The hum of the contract in his mind was a physical presence, a cold brand that constantly reminded him of the price he had agreed to pay. Leo stood still for a long moment, the crowd of the Night Market flowing around him like a river of nightmares, but his world had narrowed to the information the Broker had given him: The Regulator. The Hermit of the Crossroads.
He had a name and a goal. It was more than he had ten minutes ago, but the knowledge brought him no comfort, only the crushing weight of an impossible task. He felt like a man who had just been given a map to a treasure at the bottom of the ocean but didn't know how to swim.
He had to get out of there. Every second he spent in the market was a risk. Kael might have agreed to the contract, but that didn't stop him from making Leo's life a living hell in other ways. And his mortal aura was an open invitation to all sorts of predators. He felt their gazes linger on him, assessing him, measuring his value in memories and his fragility in flesh and bone.
He looked at the dock where Charon's gondola had been. It was empty. He couldn't go back the way he came. He started walking, searching for another exit, an escape route from this port of souls. He saw smaller boats, some offering passage in exchange for "years of luck" or "happy regrets." He had none of that to give; his luck was spent, and his regrets were anything but happy.
Finally, in a decrepit corner of the market, where the light from the soul lanterns barely reached, he found a small raft made of floating planks and empty barrels, tied to a dock that threatened to fall apart with every movement of the dark water. A small, wrinkled goblin, with large, liquid eyes that seemed too big for its face, sat at the helm, gnawing on something Leo preferred not to identify. A poorly written sign, painted with what Leo hoped was ink, read: "Styx Crossings. Cheap. No questions."
"I need to get back to the other side," Leo said to the goblin, his voice sounding louder than he intended in the relative quiet of that corner.
The goblin looked up at him, its gaze sizing up every inch of Leo, from his worn clothes to the tension in his shoulders. "Passage costs," it rasped, its voice like grinding gravel.
"I don't have souls or memories to trade," Leo said, already feeling defeated.
"Ferryman doesn't want souls," the goblin said, a smile revealing needle-sharp teeth. "Ferryman wants things. Shiny things. Things from the world above. Things that don't belong here."
Leo thought for a moment. He had his smartphone, but he needed it. He had his new suit, but it was his only piece of armor. Then, he remembered. His scooter. It was from his world. And more importantly, it had a headlight. A piece of mortal technology, useless to most of the denizens here, but for a goblin living in perpetual darkness, a light that didn't feed on souls was a rare novelty.
He pointed to his electric scooter, which he had left near Charon's dock. "That. The front light. It runs on an energy cell. It shines brighter than any of these soul lanterns."
The goblin's eyes widened with greed. "The shiny eye... Yes. The shiny eye for passage. Bring it."
Ten minutes later, Leo was back at the raft, minus his scooter's headlight and with an ugly hole in its fairing. The goblin took the headlight with reverence, hooked it up to a makeshift battery made of glass jars and copper wires, and cackled with glee as the bright, white LED light cut through the Underworld's gloom, making the souls in the river recoil.
The journey back was far less dignified than the trip in. The raft was unstable, and the souls in the river seemed closer, their ghostly hands brushing the bottom of the boat, their whispers now audible, words of regret and pain. But the goblin kept his word. He didn't take him back to the Pier of Lost Souls, but to a "service exit"—a damp cave that ended at an iron sewer grate in the middle of a familiar alley.
Leo was back in his world. Exhausted, terrified, but with a mission. The smell of garbage and rain had never been so comforting.
He went straight to the "Sabor do Limiar." This time, he knocked.
The door opened, and Yuki looked at him, her expression a mixture of relief and anger. "You're alive."
"For now," Leo said, stepping inside. The restaurant was pristine, with no sign of the Syndicate Agent's visit.
"The Agent left shortly after you vanished," she said, her voice tense. "They leave no trace. But the message was clear. My establishment is now marked." She looked at him intently. "What happened?"
Leo told her everything. The market. The Whisper Broker. The monstrous contract he'd made. The information he'd bought. Kael.
When he finished, Yuki was silent for a long time, processing it all. She walked to the window, looking out at the rain streaking down the glass, her silhouette framed against the neon lights.
"The Hermit of the Crossroads," she said finally, her voice a whisper. "I've heard that name. A legend. A boogeyman story to scare rookie couriers who think they're smarter than the system."
"Is he real?" Leo asked.
"Legends in this business usually are," Yuki replied, turning to face him. "The Crossroads is real. It's a nexus of unstable portals, a place where a thousand realities intersect and collide. It's a graveyard of failed delivery routes. Navigating it is suicide. If someone survived and lives there, he won't just be mad. He'll be incredibly powerful."
"I have to find him," Leo said with determination. "The Broker said he's the only one who can help me get to the Regulator."
Yuki looked at him, a new light of respect in her eyes. The scared courier she had met was disappearing, replaced by someone harder, more determined. Someone who was willing to sell his own future for a chance to fight back.
"I don't know how to get to the Crossroads," she admitted. "No reliable map exists. But I know who might have one."
She turned and went into her kitchen, returning with a small object wrapped in a silk cloth. She placed it on the counter.
"This is a [Compass of Intentions]," she said. "It doesn't point north. It points to what you desire most. But it's fickle. To calibrate it, you need a catalyst. An item that is attuned to your destiny, that resonates with your path."
She glanced at Leo's bag. "Your rivalry with Kael. Your contract with the Broker. Your quest for the Hermit. It's all connected now. Your destiny and his are intertwined."
Leo understood. He opened his bag and took out his newest item, the prize from his victory. The [Fragment of Forbidden Knowledge].
He placed the glowing crystal next to the compass. The moment the two objects came close, the air between them crackled with energy. The Fragment began to pulse with an inner light, and the compass needle, which had been spinning wildly, began to turn faster and faster, becoming a blur of motion. A low hum filled the restaurant.
Then, with a sharp click, the needle stopped. It quivered and pointed in a fixed direction.
It wasn't pointing to a city or a country. It was pointing up, at the ceiling, at an empty spot between the rain clouds.
"It seems your next delivery," Yuki said, her voice grim, "isn't to another world. It's to the space between them."