Pin finished her last words over the communication crystal.

  She sat in a chair far too big for her—legs dangling, unable to touch the floor. In front of her was a wide glass bowl, filled with a strange white-and-red mixture. One of her experimental concoctions, something she had made in a fit of hobbyist curiosity.

  With a silver spoon, she scooped a small bite into her mouth.

  It was…

  Hmm.

  The texture was slippery. Smooth—but not quite as silky as she had wanted. A pleasant chill spread across her tongue.

  “Looks like this recipe isn’t bad either,” Pin said aloud, grinning in satisfaction.

  At her side, perched atop the counter, sat a small glass bottle. A miniature container welling with a thick black mist. The smoke writhed and twisted inside, like some venomous gas desperate to find a crack to escape through.

  It was a deadly gas.

  The communication crystal had already severed its link to Zerus and those troublesome little pests. There wasn’t much left to say on the matter. The demon slave had failed. A simple task, completely botched.

  “Always the defective ones…” Pin muttered under her breath.

  The black smoke inside the bottle thinned, fading after a few moments.

  Pin plucked the bottle up between two fingers and hopped down from her oversized chair. She padded across the room to a trash bin. Unceremoniously, she tossed the bottle onto the heap. It landed atop a pile of discarded food wrappers, empty containers, and single-use bowls—Pin’s latest collection of junk. She loved buying new utensils for every project.

  Among the trash, the bottle still glowed faintly.

  Inside, nestled at the bottom, was the shriveled corpse of a twin-coil worm. Once, it had writhed in silent agony, its body folding in on itself, its death throes invisible to all but the cruelest observer. Now… it was still. Dead.

  And with its death, came the end of its twin—the one that had been planted deep within Zerus’ body.

  The worms had been a safeguard. A failsafe for Pin’s pets. Should any of her experiments turn against her, disobey, or slip beyond her reach—she would simply kill one of the pair.

  The result?

  A lethal gas, uniquely tailored to the worms’ biological signature, would seep into the host. And shortly after—the body would detonate once it recognized the gas. It was efficient. Cruel. But also highly elegant.

  A fitting end for failures. A waste of materials, maybe. But Pin didn’t worry about such trivial things. Her living expenses—and her premiums for “research efforts”—were more than enough to cover a few lost slaves.

  “Best job ever~” Pin sang to herself, twirling once as she skipped cheerfully out of her kitchen.

  She moved over to her living room. From a shelf, she took another communication crystal and went to the center of the room. With a sigh of relief, she slid her feet out of her slippers and sank into the plush cushions of her couch.

  Turning the device on, she awaited a connection to the other side. Several beeps rang out. As she sat there and waited, a loud scream echoed from her right. She briefly glanced over, her eyes landing on a large, metal door with multiple locks. Several different layered spells bound the door; only she had access to her laboratory beyond it.

  Finally, after a minute, the connection was met.

  “Hello, Pin. I assume this call is about my favor?” came a voice—calm, but sharp.

  “Why, yes. It is, Ginne. It is most certainly about the favor I owed you,” Pin replied, her voice flat. She turned and leaned back, lying across the couch. She hummed to herself lazily.

  On the other side of the crystal, Ginne was sitting down. Not on a chair, or a luxurious couch like Pin had.

  No—his chair was much more alive. At least, it had been once.

  Ginne’s boots rested firmly on a wooden floor. His dagger sat still, pierced through the throat of his seat. The room around him was splattered in dark red.

  He had just finished taking care of one of his older commissions. It had taken a while to find the target—those of high status always had their methods, their artifacts, their passive protections. It bought them time. But no one was ever truly safe. Not with a large enough bounty on their head.

  “About the favor… you owed?” Ginne asked, casually. “Did you already finish capturing the target?”

  Outside the door to his hotel room, footsteps passed by. A pair of people, chatting idly, completely oblivious to the scene hiding just beyond the door.

  “Well, I finished my side of the favor, at least. Don’t owe you anything anymore,” Pin replied lazily.

  Ginne was quiet for a moment on the other side of the line. His fingers idly twisted the dagger buried in his chair, blood trickling lazily from the motion.

  “…Clarify for me, Pin. What exactly did you do?” His voice was calm—but that razor-thin edge he had was creeping into it.

  Pin grinned and rolled over onto her stomach, legs swinging back and forth in the air behind her like a child reading a picture book. She propped her chin up with both hands and hummed, looking towards the crystal on the table.

  “Oh, you know,” she said airily. “I sent someone to go pick up your precious little target. Alive. Like you asked. I even picked one of my cutest projects. Zerus. She was… hm… serviceable.”

  There was a pause. A long one.

  Ginne’s voice came through, a little harder, pressing. “And?”

  “And,” Pin chirped, tapping her bare heels together, “they died. Maybe.”

  “What?” Ginne said sharply.

  Pin continued to hum. She grabbed a free, soft, couch cushion and laid it down in front of her. She settled her head on it. “Mmm. Yeah. I had Zerus rigged with a lovely little failsafe. Twin-coil worms! Very effective, as I’m sure you know. I killed the one on my end... which means—pop! The other one inside her went boom.”

  “You detonated the demon?! With the girl near her?!” Ginne snapped, rising from his bloodied chair.

  “Uh-huh.” Pin rocked side to side lazily. “They might have gotten caught in the blast. Or maybe not! Whoever they were—kinda strong, actually. At least, someone with her, was. If they were good enough to kill my poor, defective Zerus, they’re probably fast enough to have dodged it too. Maybe a few burns. Maybe a missing limb or two. A head is also technically a limb, I suppose.”

  The sound Ginne made wasn’t quite a growl. But it was close.

  “You’re telling me,” he said slowly, “that the target could be… dead?”

  “They might be,” Pin said, rolling lazily onto her back. She stared up at the ceiling. “Or just very, very crispy. Hard to say for sure. If they’re smart—and I think they might be—they probably ran before they were severely injured. The bombs inside my creations are powerful, but not strong enough to kill mortally kill something on par with Zerus’ level, unless they took the blast directly.”

  The line crackled as Ginne cursed under his breath. He paced a short step, boots dragging across the bloody floor. He remembered the commission all too well.

  Lia Empyria.

  The youngest daughter of the Empyrian house—the bloodline that once reigned like monarchs across a good portion of the Fifth Layer. Their fall had been brutal. A complete totality. No guards, no loyalists, no family left. There shouldn’t have been anyone to protect her.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Unless… she found others. Or she was much more capable than anyone had realized.

  “This commission wasn’t supposed to be complicated,” Ginne muttered darkly, running a hand through his hair, streaking it with blood. “Mrs. Veraine herself issued the request. Capture the girl. Deliver her to the Fifth Layer. High payout. Clean job.”

  Now it was a mess. And Mrs. Veraine didn’t tolerate messes.

  Pin, meanwhile, had grabbed the crystal, and was spinning it in slow circles on the floor, watching it wobble and tilt like a child playing with a toy. She exaggerated a pout briefly—before quickly smoothing her face back to a sly smirk.

  “Well, accidents happen,” she said lightly. “And I don’t owe you anymore, so you’ll have to figure it out yourself.”

  Ginne grit his teeth harder, the muscles in his jaw ticking.

  The favor had been used. There was no pulling her back in. And if the girl was still alive, she would be much harder to catch now.

  “I can’t just go down to the Second Layer myself,” he muttered. “It would break too many damn agreements.”

  Pin only chuckled, low and to herself.

  “Well,” she said, voice sing-song but quiet, “you better hope whoever it is down there didn’t get too far. Or your nice, tidy commission might just slip right out of your fingers.”

  The crystal pulsed faintly between them. Ginne didn’t reply right away.

  Pin yawned dramatically and stretched her arms overhead, like she was getting ready for a nap. Then, mid-stretch, she tilted her head slightly, curiosity flickering across her face.

  “So,” she said casually, as if she were asking about the weather, “who exactly is this girl you’re after, anyway? Must be someone very interesting for you to go calling me for a favor.”

  Ginne’s voice came back, clipped and agitated. “None of your business.”

  Pin stuck her tongue against the inside of her cheek, pretending to pout, but it didn’t last long. She rolled and rolled, trying to find comfort on her couch. She kept going until she was onto her stomach again, idly kicking her legs in the air. “Aww, come on. You already roped me into cleaning up part of your mess. At least give me a hint.”

  A long breath hissed through the crystal.

  After a moment, Ginne relented—just a little. “She’s important. Connected to a house that’s supposed to be gone.”

  Pin blinked. Then laughed under her breath. “Ohh. A little lost royal? Fallen nobility?” She traced a meaningless circle on the couch cushion with her finger. “That’s always messy. Always so tragic.”

  Ginne didn’t correct her. He didn’t need to.

  Pin’s mind spun quickly behind her laid-back posture. Fifth Layer politics. If it’s a fallen house, and someone’s paying that much to retrieve a stray child… then this wasn’t a casual bounty.

  “And you can’t go after her yourself because of...” Pin let the sentence trail, baiting him.

  “The Accords,” Ginne said bluntly. “You know that already. Fifth-Layer residents can’t descend into the Second without clearance. Too many watchdogs. Too many interests.”

  Pin gave a lazy shrug, cheek pressed into her pillow. “I know, I know. Just like how climbing the Layers is treated like a sacred pilgrimage.” She stifled a giggle. “Up? Enlightenment! Down? Treason.”

  Ginne’s voice remained flat. “You can afford to mock it. You’re not bound by the same contracts.”

  Pin twirled a lock of hair around her finger again. “Sucks for you, then.”

  A beat passed.

  She propped herself up on her elbows, fake playfulness dropping slightly as the schemer underneath peeked through. “…That said,” Pin mused, “I do hate leaving an experiment half-done.”

  Ginne said nothing, but Pin could almost feel his focus sharpen through the crystal.

  She tapped her lip thoughtfully. “Let’s see. You can’t come down yourself. Your target is loose somewhere on the Second Layer. She might have help. And thanks to me, you at least know which general region she was last seen in.”

  She smiled slyly. “You could hire someone else to hunt her.”

  “Too slow,” Ginne said immediately.

  Pin nodded absentmindedly. “True. Mercenaries down there are unreliable. And word of a noble bloodline survivor running around? That’ll leak faster than a sieve if you aren’t careful.”

  Another pause.

  Pin’s eyes gleamed. “Or,” she continued sweetly, “you could lure her upward.”

  That got Ginne’s attention.

  “How?” he asked.

  Pin sat up fully now, crossing her legs criss-cross atop the couch like a lounging cat. “You don’t have to descend if she willingly climbs up, do you?”

  Ginne’s silence was a quiet agreement.

  Pin drummed her fingers lightly against the couch arm. “She’s young. Probably scared. If she’s smart enough to survive a demon attack, she’s smart enough to realize she’s being hunted. But she’s desperate. She’ll look for protection.”

  “So?” Ginne pressed.

  “So,” Pin sang, “you set bait. Make her think there’s safety waiting for her if she moves up. Whisper rumors. Plant information. A city gate, a transfer ritual—some group she thinks she can trust.”

  Ginne’s mind was already racing.

  Get her to climb.

  If she appeared on the fifth layer, it would become insurmountably easier to capture her. A little girl like that would be found within a week, no matter who it was—especially without the resources of her family backing her.

  “That’ll take time,” Ginne muttered.

  Pin smirked, flopping back onto the couch. “Ohhh yes. But patience is a virtue, Ginny. Even for hunters like you.”

  “Don’t call me Ginny, Pinwheel,” he retorted.

  Pin clicked her tongue, not a fan of her nickname, either.

  He didn’t argue, however. Because she was right. This wasn’t a job that could be finished in a day. Not anymore.

  “You’ll owe me another favor for this advice,” Pin added lazily, flipping the communication crystal up into the air and catching it.

  Ginne’s teeth ground audibly across the channel. “Not a chance.”

  Pin grinned wide, teeth sharp behind the girlish facade.

  “Well,” Pin said, voice sing-song but quiet, “you better hope whoever it is down there didn’t get too far. Or your nice, tidy commission might just slip right out of your fingers.”

  The crystal’s faint hum filled the air for a few long beats.

  Then Ginne broke the silence. “…You’re still on the Third Layer, right?” he asked.

  Pin let her head flop dramatically back onto the couch. “Mhm. Still here. Still terribly bored. Quite peaceful though.”

  Ginne’s voice tightened. “You could still keep an eye on her.”

  She laughed once—sharp and amused.

  “I could,” she agreed easily. “But the favor’s already done. You said you wanted her captured. I sent someone. Never promised I’d get the job done, though. I did my best. If she’s dead now, well…” She clicked her tongue playfully. “Not my fault your little prize couldn’t survive a bump in the road.”

  A beat of heavy silence.

  Pin lay flat. Her voice turned more languid. “Still… I am mildly annoyed. Killing Zerus was a waste of decent raw material. Even the defective ones are a pain to replace.”

  Ginne grunted lowly. “You’re the one who detonated her.”

  She gave an exaggerated shrug, twirling a strand of her hair. “And? Safety precautions. You know how it is. Once a slave slips the leash, it’s just good manners to blow them up.”

  On the other end, Ginne’s voice dropped low. “You killed the target.”

  “Possibly,” Pin sang. “She was standing awfully close when the worm triggered. But if she had anyone half-competent with her, I’m sure they scrambled away in time.”

  Ginne exhaled sharply. “You were supposed to bring her in. Alive.”

  Pin yawned, long and pointedly fake, her mouth stretching wide. “Relax. She’s probably still alive. If she had the skill—or had someone with her—to take down Zerus, then an explosion’s not what’s going to finish her off. She's most definitely alive, so relax and stop asking. Be a bit more optimistic, will you?”

  “That wasn’t the agreement,” he said through gritted teeth.

  “It was a favor,” Pin corrected. “And it’s done. I sent your precious target a welcome party. That she survived means the party was too small. Not my problem anymore.”

  She let the silence continue. Then, softer, she continued. “She really is something, though, huh? That girl.”

  Ginne didn’t answer immediately.

  Pin’s tone shifted slightly. It was still casual, but edged with curiosity. “You’ve got that tone. Same one as all the client-hounds sniffing after something special. So who is she, really?”

  “She’s my commission,” Ginne said curtly.

  “Ugh, boring.” Pin flopped onto her back again, arms sprawled over the couch cushions like a starfish. “Can’t you give me anything? I’ve already lost one perfectly unstable demon over this.”

  “You don’t care about her.”

  “I don’t,” she said, and she meant it. “But I do care about getting something back for the trouble.”

  Ginne sighed. “She’s some high-noble girl that Mrs. Veraine was asked to capture. Someone much higher up than her requested it. Probably higher than any of the major high-noble heads over here. Aside from that—I have no idea why they want her. That’s all I know.”

  Some silence stretched as Pin considered the explanation. He had said a lot, but at the same time, almost nothing was gained.

  She stared back up at the ceiling, considering her next words carefully.

  “…I could help you,” she said at last, voice lazy. “Keep watch. Stir the pot with a bit of poison. Maybe spread a few little rumors here and there. Get her moving where you want her.”

  “What kind of rumors?” Ginne asked warily.

  Pin’s smile grew.

  “Hopeful ones. Whispers of surviving family. Loyal retainers waiting at the Layer Gates. Tales of the Empyria bloodline not being as… extinct as everyone thinks.”

  She could practically hear Ginne calculating on the other side.

  “She’s young, right?” Pin added lightly. “Young and naive. Easy to bait upward if she thinks something’s waiting for her.”

  Ginne exhaled through his nose. “…How much?” he asked at last.

  Pin rolled the crystal between her palms, savoring the moment. “Compensation for inconvenience, hazard, and emotional distress,” she said sweetly. “Since you just cost me one defective—but still very valuable—experiment.”

  “I paid you nothing for the favor.”

  “Exactly. That debt’s clear. But this?” She lifted the crystal in the air. “This is business.”

  “What do you want?” Ginne asked, resigned at the conversation.

  Pin licked her lips thoughtfully. “Haven’t decided yet. Something useful. Maybe you find out a way to send a higher-demon down here. I’m in no rush, but if you can do that, I’d be happy to help you.”

  “A higher-demon? Are you right in the head? Even I wouldn’t want to mess with one of them.”

  She grinned. “Just find a way to get me one. Even a young one would work. The demons over here aren’t durable enough for some of my tests.”

  Another long silence stretched between them.

  Ginne’s voice came low, controlled. “Fine. But as a favor, I won’t guarantee I can get you one. At least—not intact.”

  Pin kicked her legs over the couch, standing with a twirl too graceful to be purely childish. “That’s all I can ask for. We have a deal, then, Ginny.”

  She cut the connection before he could growl a response, letting the crystal clatter to the floor.

  For a moment, she stood there, quiet, the faint hum of her lab beyond the locked metal doors buzzing in the distance.

  “A noble from the enchanted layers down here, huh…,” she whispered, smiling to herself. “I wonder how the system would respond to those with high-nobility…”

  And with that, she sauntered toward her workspace; there were three more demons, much better than the failed scraps she had. Her next project would be complete, very, very soon.