The gates of the Tenth-Floor City loomed like the jaws of a beast. Beyond them, the air shimmered with ash and gold, thick with the scent of burning resin and the metallic tang of beast cores being refined.
Luciel stood by the half-lit market terrace, his cloak drawn against the rising wind. His dark eyes scanned the gathered traders — hostesses in veiled silks, hunters with blood still drying on their vambraces, and one woman whose composure seemed far too deliberate.
Liyi Yi.
She stood opposite him, her gloved hands folded at her waist, eyes cold and brilliant like green jade under lamplight.
"How many beast cores," Luciel asked quietly, "could you carry out of this city… without alerting them?"
Waldo and his men shifted behind her, exchanging looks. The name of the Tenth-Floor City carried weight — a fortress of power, greed, and surveillance. Few smuggled anything out of it and lived.
But Liyi Yi didn't flinch.
