The buyer was late.Mitya waited in a dimly lit warehouse, the smell of oil and dust thick in the air. When the man finally arrived, he wasn't alone — two others flanked him, hands in their jackets.
"Price changed," the buyer said. "Fifty percent less."
Mitya didn't move. "That's not how this works."
The man smiled. "It is today."
The System's overlay lit up — threat probability high. Vega shifted in the shadows.
Then a sound — a crate tipping over. A dockworker, wrong place, wrong time, staring wide‑eyed at the scene.
The buyer's hand twitched toward his weapon. Mitya moved first — not to kill, but to disarm, knocking the gun away and shoving the man back. Vega dropped the other two before they could react.
The dockworker bolted. The buyer lay groaning on the floor.
Operator: Profit loss — 40%. Moral load deviation: recorded.
Mitya exhaled. "We're done here."
Sable's Warning
Later, Sable found him at a café.
"You let him live," Sable said.
"He wasn't worth the bullet."
Sable shook his head. "Mercy's expensive. Sooner or later, you'll pay for it."
Mitya didn't answer. But he knew Sable was right about one thing — every choice had a cost.