The morning broke with a sour-grey sky and wind that clawed through the rotting boards of the shack. The smell of salt and seaweed hadn't left Brendon's nose since he arrived. It was like the coast was trying to sink into him, peel back the layers and reach the part he'd tried to bury for years.
He stood outside now, coat billowing in the wind, a hand shielding his eyes from the briny air as Camelia closed a call on her phone and looked up at him.
Camelia:
"She's ready for you."
Brendon: "That supposed to be reassuring?"
Camelia offered no reply, only gestured inland where a coastal trail carved between sloping cliffs and rocky outcrops. They walked in silence, boots amd shoes crunching gravel and wet grass, until they reached a nondescript bunker tucked behind a knoll. Its door, half-rusted, swung open at Camelia's touch.
Inside, the air was different — dry, metallic, humming faintly with power. Fluorescent tubes buzzed overhead. The room was half war room, half server den — wires snaked across the walls, and a large monitor flickered faintly at the center.
And then she was there.
She stood near the table, waiting — a lean figure cloaked in black. A matte-black jumpsuit hugged her form, laced with purple trims along the shoulders and sleeves. A black hood cast a shadow over her brow, and a sleek black mask covered her muzzle from nose to chin. Only her eyes remained visible — sharp, violet color, and calculating.
The Ninja Fox.
Brendon instinctively straightened, not out of deference — but instinct. The presence in the room shifted. Commanding. Silent. Dangerous.
But something about her scent...
It hit him subtly. Faint traces of lavender and city smoke, a thread of sandalwood beneath it. Familiar. He didn't react, but his ears twitched slightly.
Had he known this fox?
Had they worked together before?
She said nothing at first, only looked him over — not rudely, but as though taking inventory of every part of him, every weakness. Brendon met her gaze and didn't flinch.
Ninja Fox (calm, firm):
"Brendon Wolf. Thank you for coming."
Brendon (raising a brow):
"Did I really have a choice?"
She tilted her head slightly, either amused or unimpressed. Hard to tell with the mask.
Ninja Fox:
"You always have a choice. But some paths… matter more than others."
Brendon crossed his arms.
Brendon: "Let's skip the riddles. You dragged me from my escape, brought up the worst memories of my life, and promised me answers. I'm here now. So, start the talking."
The Ninja Fox nodded once and motioned toward the center table. Laid across it were papers, maps, and printed spreadsheets. She slid a thick folder toward him.
Ninja Fox:
"I need you to keep an eye on that corrupt mayor Guerieo. Quietly. While still being in you normal life as a sheriff in Ridgecliff."
Brendon (skeptical):
"The mayor? He's a loudmouth, sure. But corruption? Do you have any proof?"
She tapped the folder.
Ninja Fox:
"That's last year's official budget for Ridgecliff's infrastructural overhaul. Endorsed and signed. Two hundred million in local and federal allocations."
Brendon flipped through the pages. Bold numbers. Multiple signatures. Brendon recognized one of them: Guerieo's.
Brendon: "And?"
Camelia stepped forward now from behind a projector station. With a click, the wall lit up with the first slide — a set of crumbling roads on the west edge of Ridgecliff, captured in grainy surveillance stills.
Camelia: "Slide one. Promised: road expansions and drainage systems in Block 9. Actual: potholes, flooding, and two collapsed pipelines."
Click.
Camelia: "Slide two. Proposed new Ridgecliff high school wing and teacher housing. Photo taken last week — it's still a dug-out lot. Never broke ground."
Click.
Camelia: "Slide three. A health center for low-income anthros in Oakridge. Allocation of 40 million. Nothing built. Not even a signboard."
Brendon stared. His eyes narrowed.
Brendon: "…All that money vanished?"
Ninja Fox:
"Not vanished. Moved. Shell companies. Looped through construction firms owned by associates of the mayor. Partial payments made. Although that's just a hypothesis for now. We have no proper proof for it."
Brendon (leaning over the table): "Are you sure?"
She tapped another document — one Camelia brought in a second later — a transfer ledger, with red-marked annotations highlighting repeating names and flagged bank accounts.
Brendon (grumbling): "This is… deliberate."
Camelia:
"No coincidence. And here's the kicker — despite all this, Guerieo's speeches this year push for more funding. Says Ridgecliff needs another 'urban renaissance.' Wants emergency grants approved next quarter."
Ninja Fox: "He's asking for another 150 million. But where did the last 200 go?"
Brendon: "Probably into someone's yacht."
Ninja Fox: "Or campaign vaults. Or private security networks. Or… something darker."
Brendon looked at her sharply.
Brendon: "You think he's building something?"
Ninja Fox: "I think he's hiding something. He has influence in both the legal and criminal underworld. I've been watching. But I can't be seen."
Brendon: "Why me?"
She hesitated, then finally said:
Ninja Fox: "Because you are just an enigma for Guerieo now. As you get back to Ridgecliff he will surely try to hide his activities. A little more effort to hide. That's when he will do the mistake."
Brendon chuckled dryly.
Brendon: "And then you will collect the evidences?"
Ninja Fox (quietly): "You know how law works. If you are not part of the system they will not believe unless you give them hard proof."
Brendon stared at her again. That scent. That voice. Familiar cadence.
Brendon: "I've worked with you before, haven't I?"
She stiffened — just barely. A tiny twitch of her gloved fingers.
Ninja Fox: "Not that I can remember of."
Brendon (suspicious): "Okay... if you say so. But I can certainly feel that that's not the case."
She didn't reply. Instead, she folded the documents back into the folder and handed it to him.
Ninja Fox: "Read it all. Then leave for Ridgecliff tomorrow. I have contacts inside who will help you. Camelia will pass their names."
Camelia stepped forward and handed Brendon a small chip card along with a phone.
Camelia: "Encrypted info. GPS trackers."
Brendon sighed and slipped the folder and card into his coat.
Brendon: "This feels like walking back into a burning house."
Ninja Fox: "Then take a fire axe."
Brendon turned to leave, but paused at the door. He glanced back at the fox in black.
Brendon: "…You could just tell me who you are."
Ninja Fox (turning away): "Not yet."
Brendon: "You smell like a liar."
Ninja Fox (without turning): "I smell like everyone you've ever trusted."
That shut him up.
---
Later That Night — Coastal Shack
Back in the shack, Brendon sat on the khatiya again. He stared at the folder in his lap, unopened.
He felt the weight of Ridgecliff again pressing on his shoulders — a city that never truly let him leave. A city that gave him a badge. He thought of the mayor, of the schools that never were, the health centers that never came, the potholes like open wounds.
Something was wrong.
And she knew it too. The Ninja Fox. Whoever she really was.
He looked at the folder again.
This time, he opened it.