The guild's lounge had transformed into a war room overnight. Cassandra stood before a corkboard covered in convoy routes, holding a teacher's pointer stick. She pulled it to its full length with a sharp snap and the room quieted.
"From what I was able to gather," Cassandra said, smacking the board with the stick, "the trucks move here."
She dragged the pointer across the map to another location and smacked it again. "And here. They operate on a tight schedule, departures every third day at exactly O-six-hundred hours. The route takes them through the D-rank district's industrial zone before crossing into C-rank territory."
She lowered the stick and turned to face the team. "That's as far as I know. Times, routes, and general patterns. But if we miss our window, we miss the truck. They don't deviate. They don't delay. You're either there or you're not."
Rook nodded, arms crossed as he studied the board. "What about security?"
"Driver plus two guards minimum," Cassandra said. "Sometimes three. They rotate personnel at checkpoints to avoid patterns. It's smart... and paranoid."
Emma leaned back in her chair. "So we hit them between checkpoints. Fast and hard."
"Exactly," Cassandra said. "But we need a distraction. Something that forces them to stop without raising suspicion."
Paul raised a hand. "Fake roadwork? Cones, sign?"
"Too fucking obvious Paul," Emma said and Paul lowered his arm slowly.
"It's not entirely wrong," Cassandra said, pointer stick tapping her palm. "We need them to stop willingly. But roadwork is predictable." Her gaze settled on Kurt. "We need something... unexpected."
Cassandra's pointer stick lowered slightly as she studied him. "So the plan is simple... you let the truck run you over and the rest of the team uses that as an opportunity to make their move."
The room went silent for a different reason now as several people exchanged glances.
"Hold up," Kurt said, his grin faltering. "It runs me over?"
"Yes." She stepped closer, eyes brightening. "Bones shattering, organs rupturing, skull crushed under steel." Her smile widened. "And then, minutes later, you stand up like nothing happened. Extraordinary."
Kurt shifted uncomfortably. "Right. Well, when you put it like that—"
"It's perfect," Cassandra continued, almost breathless. "You'll experience death... true, violent death, and overcome it. Most people never get that opportunity."
"Lucky me," Kurt muttered.
"Exactly." She returned to the board, satisfaction evident. "Pain is a gift, Kurt."
Emma leaned forward. "Fuck that, the bitch's crazy. What if they just radio it in and keep moving?"
"They won't," Cassandra said. "Guild policy requires documentation of civilian casualties."
"Guild policy." Emma's voice conveyed her skepticism. "You're betting his life on policy?"
"He comes back."
Kurt sighed. "I love how you all are discussing my death like I'm not here."
"You'll be compensated, unless you got a better idea?" Rook said with a grin.
Kurt sighed and rubbed his face, looking at Cassandra. "Fine, fine! Don't get your knickers in a twist. I'll be the bloody speed bump."
Emma listened to the plan and snorted, leaning down to tighten the lace of her boots. "This is the dumbest plan I've ever heard."
"And yet it'll work," Rook said with a faint smirk. "Kurt's the distraction. Emma, you take the driver. Lizzie, support. Cassandra and I will cover the perimeter in case reinforcements show up."
Cassandra nodded. "They won't. Not immediately. Silver Tail doesn't expect anyone to be stupid enough to hit their convoys."
"Well," Kurt said, pushing himself fully off the wall, "lucky for us, we're exactly that stupid."
***
They moved into position just before dawn.
The industrial zone of the D-rank district was a maze of warehouses, rusted fencing, and cracked asphalt.
The convoy route cut straight through the heart of it, a wide road flanked by abandoned buildings and shipping containers.
Kurt stood by the roadside, checking his watch. It was 5:57 AM. Three minutes.
Emma's voice crackled in his ear. "You sure about this?"
"Nope," Kurt said. "But I'm doing it anyway."
Kurt stood by the edge of the road, hands in his pants pockets and he took a moment to appreciate the early morning light which casted long shadows across the road.
"This is a terrible idea," Kurt muttered to himself.
In the distance, the rumble of an engine grew louder, right on schedule. The truck appeared around the corner, a heavy transport vehicle with reinforced plating and the Silver Tail emblem painted on the side.
He timed it perfectly and jumped onto the middle of the road. The truck's horn blared immediately and driver slammed on the brakes, tires screeching, but it was going too fast to stop in time.
Kurt activated his Pain Resistance instinctively, closed his eyes, and braced for the truck that hit him like... well, a truck.
His body was laid out, bones snapping like twigs, and the massive tires climbed over him, crushing his chest and skull.
The driver jumped out of the cab, his face pale. "What the—oh shit, oh shit!"
And with perfect timing as well, Lizzie burst from the alley, sobbing hysterically. "You fucking killed him! You killed him!"
The driver rushed toward her, hands up in a panic. "I didn't see him! He just—he came out from nowhere! I tried to stop!"
Lizzie grabbed his shirt, tears streaming down her face. "That was my brother! My brother! What am I gonna do?!"
The driver stammered, completely overwhelmed. "I—I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"
While Lizzie distracted, Emma made her move.
She slipped around the truck's blind side, silent and fast, and climbed into the cab through the open door.
One of the guards inside turned, eyes widening in shock, but Emma was already swinging. The side of her palm connected with his throat in a precise strike that fractured his larynx, and he collapsed, choking and paralyzed.
She kicked him out the passenger door and turned to face the two remaining guards in the back with a grin that was sharp and wicked.
"Hi, boys."
One of them lunged and Emma dodged, grabbing his arm and snapping it quickly before using his momentum to slam him into the wall of the truck so fast that he passed out before he got the chance to scream out in pain.
The second guard pulled a knife, but Emma was faster. She disarmed him with a brutal twist that also dislocated bone and drove her knee into his forehead from behind in a move that required an absurd level of flexibility, then finished him with an elbow to the back of the head.
Both guards were on the floor of the truck, unconscious and the third guard, who'd been sitting in the corner, scrambled backward, hands raised. "Wait, wait, please—"
Emma grabbed him by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "Sit the fuck down."
She tied him up quickly like a professional bull wrangler, gagged him, and shoved him into the corner then threw the unconscious guards out the truck.
Outside, Lizzie was still clinging to the driver, and when he tried to turn, her sobs increased into hiccupping gasps. "Your arms," she gasped, gripping his bicep. "They're so strong. I need something strong to hold on to right now."
The driver, flustered and blushing, patted her shoulder awkwardly, staring at his arms. "Yeah, I—I do work out from time to time."
"I bet you do," she gripped his arm tighter and his face turned red as he forgot why he was even out here, forgot the body under his truck, forgot everything except the pretty girl crying into his chest.
He kept consoling Lizzy with his 'strong' arms and for a second he turned to check on the truck and froze. Someone was in the driver's seat.
"What the—"
Before he could piece together what was going on, Lizzie blew a pink cloud of powder into his face and his eyes rolled back, collapsing into the floor right next to Kurt.
"There we go," Lizzie said brightly, wiping fake tears from her face as she walked over the unconscious guard like he was furniture.
She grabbed Kurt's body by the arms and started dragging him toward the back of the truck. "Emma! A little help here!"
Emma leaned out the driver's side window and watched Lizzie's small frame struggle to pull Kurt to the truck. "Hurry it up!"
"You try dragging a grown-ass man into a van!" Lizzie snapped.
Emma sighed, hopped out, and lifted Kurt's body like he weighed nothing. She tossed him into the back of the truck where he landed with a heavy thud next to the tied-up guard.
"Show-off," Lizzie scoffed and climbed into the passenger seat.
Emma slid into the driver's seat, slammed the door, and hit the gas, sending the truck hurtling forward as it sped down the road.
A few minutes later, Kurt gasped awake, inches away from the tied-up guard who stared at him, eyes wide with muffled sounds coming from behind the gag.
Kurt sat up, rubbed his jaw, and looked at the guard. "Hi there, mate. Lovely morning, innit?"
"Mmmmmm!!" The guard's muffled screaming intensified and Kurt's attention shifted from him when he heard his system chime.
[RESURRECTION COMPLETE]
[Deaths: 11]
New Ability Unlocked: [Gasakinesis - F Rank]
- Generate and control different gases
- Improve range and control next rank (E): 5 points
+3 points awarded [Common Death]
Available Points: 33
[Reaper Detection: DORMANT (5 days)]
Kurt dismissed the screen quickly, clearly in denial about the timer that ran down with each death. He stretched his aching body, though the pain was fading fast and pulled out a cigarette.
The cigarette was lit with a flicker of fire from his index finger and he exhaled smoke that swirled unnaturally around his fingers."That's the stuff..." he sighed in relief.
Up front, Emma called back, not taking her eyes off the road. "You alive yet?"
"Unfortunately," Kurt replied and Lizzie giggled, staring at him from the rearview mirror.
Emma pushed the truck to its limits, weaving through industrial streets. Behind them, no sirens or pursuit yet.
"We clear?" Lizzie asked.
Emma checked the mirrors. "For now."
Kurt sat up in the back, brushing dust off his coat, while the tied-up guard hyperventilated in the corner.
"Relax, mate," Kurt said with a smile. "Bad part's over for you."
The guard's muffled screaming suggested he disagreed.
The truck pulled into an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the district where Rook and Cassandra were already waiting, along with a few other guild members.
They unloaded the truck quickly, hauling out crates filled with monster cores, weapons, and bags of gold.
Rook opened a crate and whistled low. "Two million credits worth of cores, easy. Maybe more." He looked at Kurt. "Getting run over ever feel this good?"
"Not even close," Kurt said.
Rook grinned. "Then you're doing it wrong."
***
Silver Tail Guild headquarters sat in the heart of the B-rank district, a fortress of steel and glass. Inside, on the top floor, Braun Ironside stood at the window, arms crossed, staring down at the city below.
He was a mountain of a man, seven foot, shoulders broad enough to block doorways, with iron-gray hair cropped military-short. Scars crisscrossed his knuckles and forearms, and his presence filled the room.
A lieutenant with dark red hair and red eyes stood behind him in a shirt, tie and vest. He shifted nervously, gloved hands holding a tablet. "Sir, we've received word. One of the convoys was hit. The cargo's gone."
Braun didn't turn. His reflection in the glass was dark, and his expression menacing. "Who."
"Unknown. But the timing, the route knowledge..." Eli's jaw tightened. "It can only be Cassandra."
For a long moment, Braun said nothing. Then he turned slowly, his eyes cold. "That bitch." His voice was controlled, but filled with rage. "She thinks she can steal from me?"
"Sir—"
"She thinks because I didn't kill her myself, she's safe." Braun stepped forward, and the temperature in the room seemed to drop. "She thinks because I trained her, I'm weak."
He stopped in front of Eli, close enough that the lieutenant had to look up. "Do you think I'm weak, Eli?"
"No, sir." Eli's grin was sharp and eager. "Never, sir."
"Good." Braun's hand shot out, gripping Eli's shoulder strongly, but the lieutenant didn't flinch. "Then you'll prove it. Find her. Find whoever helped her. And bring them to me."
Eli's grin widened. "Raven's Crow won't be easy to find."
"Nothing ever worthwhile is." Braun's grip tightened. "But Cassandra... she comes back breathing. I want her to see what happens to traitors before I kill her myself."
"Yes, sir." Eli's eyes gleamed with anticipation. "It'll be my pleasure."
Braun released him, turning back to the window. "Double the guard rotations. Change the convoy routes, randomize them. And Eli?" He didn't look back. "I want everyone to see what happens when you steal from Silver Tail."
"Understood." Eli straightened, tablet forgotten, already imagining the hunt.
***
Back at the warehouse, the team finished loading the loot into their transport. The tied-up guard, still gagged, was left in the corner, his eyes darting frantically between Kurt and the others.
Emma closed the door on him and dusted off her hands. "So. What do we do with him?"
"Question him," Rook answered. "See what he knows."
The guard's muffled screaming grew louder as Emma stepped closer, cracking her knuckles. "This is gonna be fun," she said with a grin.
Emma dragged the guard into the side room and Kurt followed, leaning against the doorframe.
"Silver Tail operations," Emma said, holding up five needles. "Where do they run from?"
"I don't—I don't know, I just drive—"
She drove one of the needle through the tip of his finger nail slowly and his scream was muffled by the gag she hadn't removed yet.
"Wrong answer." She pushed another needle deeper into his second nail. "Try again."
"Checkpoints!" he gasped. "They rotate at checkpoints! That's all I know, Jesus fucking Christ!"
Emma studied him for a long moment, then yanked out one of the needles. "He doesn't know shit," she called back to Rook. "They rotate at checkpoints like Cassandra said."
Kurt watched her walk past, expression flat. This was the Emma who'd killed dozens in the dungeon without blinking.
Cassandra watched Emma emerge from the interrogation room, and smiled approvingly.
"Efficient," she murmured. "Though you could've taken longer. Fear ripens with time."
With a brow raised, Emma shot her a look. "The fuck's wrong with you?"
"Nothing." Cassandra's smile didn't falter. "I simply appreciate craftsmanship."
Meanwhile, the guard kept screaming even after torture. "JUST FUCKING KILL ME!" Until it finally died down to choked sobs.
The silence that followed was only broken by Kurt's wince and snarky voice, "Emma doesn't mess around."
Rook walked past him and settled by a stool. "She never does." He nodded to Emma then shifted his gaze to the team. "Pack it up, everyone. We're moving this haul before Silver Tail traces the truck."
The team moved quickly, hauling crates into their vans. Cores, weapons, gold—months of funding in one score.
As Kurt lifted the last crate, Rook caught his arm and pulled him aside. "Kurt," Rook said, his tone serious. "You need to take the test."
Kurt raised an eyebrow. "The test?"
Rook's expression didn't change. "Yeah. The test."
Kurt waited for more, but Rook just stared at him.
"...Right," Kurt said slowly. "You gonna tell me what that means, or are we doing the mysterious leader thing?"
"My bad. Forgot about your little amnesia problem," Rook said, his expression hardening for a split second before reverting to neutral.
"No worries mate," Kurt muttered, placing his hands into the pockets of his trench coat. "So what's this bloody test?"
"The rank assessment test," Rook clarified. "You've been F-rank since you joined. But after what I've seen..." He gestured vaguely at the truck, the heist, Kurt's growing abilities. "You're not F-rank anymore. You need to get officially ranked."
Kurt blinked. "Oh. That test," he said sarcastically.
"Yeah. That test." Rook's expression was firm. "If you want to move up in the guild, if you want access to better districts, better pay, you need the certification."
Kurt grinned and pulled out his hand from his pocket, generating a swirling mist around his fingers. "Well then. When do we do this?"
"Tomorrow," Rook said. "I'll set it up."