Dominic woke to voices.
Not loud. Not panicked. Controlled, murmured, layered over one another in the half-light of early morning. The courtyard was already stirring. People rose quietly, stretching stiff limbs, checking injuries, counting belongings.
No one wasted movement.
Dominic opened his eyes without shifting his body. He lay still, breathing slow, letting the sounds paint a picture of the space around him.
Two people arguing softly near the eastern wall.
Someone coughing, deep and wet.
Footsteps pacing a short loop, repeating at steady intervals.
A watch.
Good.
He sat up slowly. The ache in his chest answered, sharp but manageable. The warmth he had coaxed into his body the day before had not vanished overnight. That was encouraging.
Lysa was already awake. She sat with her back against the wall, splint braced carefully, eyes alert.
"You missed nothing," she said quietly. "No one bothered us."
"Yet," Dominic replied.
They shared a brief look. Neither expected the calm to last.
The scarred man from the night before approached as the light strengthened. He carried a ledger of some sort, little more than a bundle of tied pages stained with dirt and ink.
"Name," he said, stopping a few steps away.
Dominic met his gaze. "Dominic."
The man waited.
Lysa hesitated, then spoke. "Lysa."
The man nodded and marked something on the page. "I am Harn. I keep track of who eats and who works. Lie to me, and you will regret it."
Dominic nodded once. "What work."
Harn gestured toward the center of the courtyard. "Cleanup. Hauling. Guarding, if you can fight."
Dominic did not look away. "I can."
Harn's eyes flicked to Dominic's injuries. "You look like you cannot."
Dominic smiled faintly. It did not reach his eyes.
"I look like I am still alive," he said. "That usually means something."
A few nearby listeners glanced over. Harn studied him for a long moment, then nodded.
"You get hauling," he said. "Guard duty later, if you earn it."
Dominic accepted the decision without comment.
He spent the morning moving rubble.
Broken stone. Rotten wood. Ash-caked debris. He worked steadily, conserving motion, keeping his breathing controlled. Each lift sent pain through his ribs. He adjusted, changed angles, slowed pace.
No one helped him. No one interfered.
That was how places like this worked.
As he worked, he listened.
People talked when they thought no one important was listening.
"Three dead last night," someone muttered.
"Near the outer slums."
"Knives."
"Fast."
Dominic kept his head down.
Another voice, quieter. "Iron Fang is angry."
That made him pause, just for a fraction of a second.
He resumed immediately.
By midday, sweat soaked his clothes and his arms shook with fatigue. The warmth in his body pulsed weakly, keeping him upright. Barely.
Harn watched him from a distance.
Eventually, Harn approached again. "You fight," he said, not a question.
"Yes," Dominic replied.
"Who trained you."
"No one."
Harn snorted. "That is a lie."
"Yes," Dominic agreed.
Harn studied his face, then surprised him by smiling. "Good. Liars last longer than honest fools."
That was the first lie Dominic told in the courtyard.
It would not be the last.
Later, a disturbance rippled through the group. Voices rose. People shifted. Hands went to weapons.
Dominic looked up.
Two men stood at the courtyard entrance. Better fed. Better armed. Cleaner. Their eyes moved with lazy confidence.
Scavengers.
Not Iron Fang. Smaller. Independent.
One of them spoke loudly. "We are collecting."
Harn stepped forward. "You are late."
The man shrugged. "We are still here."
Eyes turned toward Dominic. Toward Lysa. Toward others who looked weak or injured.
Dominic felt the system presence sharpen.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Social threat detected
Conflict likelihood: Moderate
Observation priority elevated
The scavenger's gaze settled on Lysa's leg. He smiled. "That one. And the boy."
Dominic did not move.
Harn's jaw tightened. "They work."
"They breathe," the scavenger replied. "That is enough."
Silence stretched.
Dominic stepped forward.
"I will replace her," he said.
Several heads snapped toward him.
The scavenger laughed. "You."
"Yes."
"You do not look valuable."
"I am," Dominic said calmly. "You just do not know why."
The man took a step closer. "And what makes you think we will not take both."
Dominic met his eyes. "Because if you try, you lose men. And Iron Fang hears about it."
That was the second lie.
Iron Fang did not need to hear. The implication was enough.
The scavenger's smile faltered. Just slightly.
"You know Iron Fang," he said.
"I know how they respond to competition," Dominic replied.
That part was true.
The man hesitated. Calculated.
Risk versus reward.
Finally, he spat on the ground. "Next time."
He turned and left.
The courtyard exhaled.
Harn stared at Dominic. "You should not have said that."
"Yes," Dominic replied. "But you would be dead otherwise."
Harn was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded.
"You can stay," he said. "Both of you."
Lysa's hand shook slightly as she grabbed Dominic's arm. "You lied."
"Yes."
"You could have been killed."
"Yes."
She stared at him. "Why risk that."
Dominic looked at the people around them. At the courtyard. At the thin line between safety and slaughter.
"Because fear moves faster than truth," he said. "And lies travel farther."
Behind his eyes, the system presence surfaced again.
[Continuum Evaluation System]
Behavioral adaptation confirmed
Method: Strategic deception
Outcome: Environmental stability increased
Dominic felt no pride.
Only clarity.
In this world, survival was not about strength alone.
It was about knowing when to lie.
And knowing who would believe it.