It was another bustling evening within the confines of the Zodiac Tavern, as a huge number of Don Penitente's contractors have just come back from their business trips to claim the 'commissions' for their contracts, with a number of invited clients here and there having their drinks. June has been a very busy month, and interestingly, the bulk of our clients lately have been coming from Tondo and Sta. Mesa - districts that have become opium trade hotspots after well-to-do Chinese traders have taken refuge here in the Philippines following the war that broke out between Japan and China recently. The whole place is just packed to the brim with patrons that I and my fellow hostesses just couldn't catch a break.

"Good evening, señorita. Virgo. 76." greeted one of the guests wearing a three-piece suit as he seated himself in front of the counter, sliding a silver coin towards me.

"One moment, please." I responded as I shuffled through the stack of neatly-filed brown envelopes behind my counter. "Would you like something to drink whilst you're here, Don Macaraig? By the way, you look dashing in that suit."

"Why, thank you. I just had this picked up from my tailor two days ago. I'm glad you like it." he replied with gratitude. "By the way, is there any chance you have seen Don Penitente around?"

"I'm afraid it's not within my authority to answer your question. Club regulations, sir. Sorry." I smiled apologetically as I shuffled further into the stack. "Aha. Here we are. Virgo 76. Fresh from the mail."

I took the envelope out from the stack and placed it on the counter. The parcel was packed, and the red seal barely holds the envelope shut. Don Macaraig immediately picked up the parcel and opened it to inspect the contents. He then proceeded to meticulously scan the documents one by one. The man was going through the documents thoroughly, discarding a page on the counter once he's done with its contents. However, on the 20th page he began to pause, and took a closer inspection of the document.

"Is anything the matter, señor?" I asked.

"Interesting...so that would be his offer to the bid." he muttered to himself. A few moments later, he turned to me and said with a big grin. "Thank you very much for the information, señorita. Your service has been most excellent."

"Likewise! We are grateful for giving us your full confidence on this matter. It has been a pleasure doing business with you, Don Macaraig." I said with a smile as I shook his hand. "If you would need our services in the future, please do not hesitate to send us a request."

"Oh, I definitely will, señorita. Give my regards to Don Penitente. I will definitely see you soon. Good night." the man bowed, retrieving the coin and his documents from the counter as he took his leave.

I wonder what those documents are about? He mentioned something about a bid. Is that the bid for the expansion project of the Bilibid? It has to be. Don Penitente told me once how these bids work. Bidders would have to submit their invoices separately so as to avoid...wait, is he trying to outbid Don Pelaez on the project?

"Cristina." called out one of the hostesses. "Don Penitente wants to have a word with you. He wants to see you outside."

"But who would attend to the guests?" I asked.

"I'll cover for you. The don says it's urgent. I'd hurry if I were you. Go on."

"Thank you. I'll head out now." I replied as I exited the premises. "Oh, and before I forget, we have a priority package for a group of gentlemen on the far left of the counter. Pisces. 25."

"Pisces?" she inquired, her expression showing mild shock.

The lady then turned to take a glance on the group of gentlemen wearing camisas seated round a table, playing cards and smoking cigars. "Ahh. Yes. Of course. Pisces is for-"

"Supervisors, yes. 25th package in the Pisces section, all right." I interrupted. "And don't forget the Aries is fo-"

"For contractors, yes." she continued.

"Are you sure you're going to be fine, Josefa?" I asked.

"I'll manage. I must've just gotten rusty. It's been a while since I've taken on these duties." she answered. "You go on now. Don't keep him waiting."

"All right. I'll go on ahead." I replied, bidding her farewell.

I then made my way towards the exit, squeezing through a throng of guests and contractors moving from table to table, either to greet their acquaintances or talk with the hostesses serving drinks. By the time I was outdoors, I felt the sea breeze caress my cheeks. It was oddly quiet outside, and the only noise that one can hear are the muffled voices coming from the tavern. On the other side of the street, I see Don Penitente, who seem to have just exited a carriage with his two other companions, who had the same apparel as him, less the cane.

By the looks of it, they seem to be engaged in a serious discussion.

A few moments later, Don Penitente turned his attention towards my direction and waved his hand thriftly. I gestured likewise and smiled to reciprocate, to which he answered with a slight upward curl in his lips, and then returned to his discussion with the Supervisors.

I then walked towards him, and as I drew closer to the other side of the road, the conversation that was unintelligible earlier started to become more audible.

"Are all the guests in the house?"

"Yes, sir. All of them, just like you ordered."

"And what of Peralta?"

"He just needed to drop off our new guest at the La Venera. I'm sure he's on his way to Intramuros as we speak, sir."

"Sir, with all due respect, I am really not sure if the tulisanes will be...cooperative in this undertaking."

"I trust Peralta with my life. He's been on tougher assignments before. This will be no different. I trust your preparations for your departure are in order?"

"Y-yes, sir. We'll be leaving for Sta. Mesa tomorrow, as per the arrangement. Sir, don't you think it's a bit too much to launch an attack on Intr-"

The three men halted in their conversation upon seeing me approach. "Ahh. Why is it every time we meet you seem to grow more radiant and beautiful by the day?" greeted Don Penitente, who advanced towards me to kiss my hand. "You seem so...tired? What happened?"

"It's a bit of a mess back there." I replied with a smile. "I believe you wanted to talk about something?"

"Ahh, yes...about that..." he then gestured to the Supervisors on his left. "Be a gentleman and usher Josefa to the office behind the counter for a quick briefing. Tell the others to be on standby."

"Certainly, sir." said the Supervisor, who then immediately crossed the street and jogged towards the front door of the tavern.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"Ahh. Nothing. Just...uh, tidying things up."

My heart skipped a beat and I let out a gasp, for I know him too well that such subtle hints could only mean something sinister.

"Oh, nothing to worry about, my love. This isn't about your fellow hostess." he assured me, having taken note of my expression. "It's just that the tavern's going to get a *wee* bit messy after this, and I, uh...just want your friends to be prepared to clean the mess. Anyway, about that thing that I want to talk about...let me brief you somewhere private."

"All right. Lead the way." I nodded. He then gently led me by the hand inside the carriage, and seated me in front of him.

"So, what are we to talk about?" I asked.

"I have some bad news, actually." he started with a sigh. "I've recently uncovered a conspiracy of certain individuals planning to sell us out to the government. Some of the bastards that we've been bribing to shut up are planning to release a list of our clients and contractors to the authorities. What a shocker." he said in a sarcastic tone.

"But why?" I inquired.

"Why?" he replied with an amused smile. "More money, of course. Such a shame, to think that they have been useful to me these past few months. But ever since they tried to spite me with this nonsense - not to mention that they have been causing me a great deal of expenses in bribes - I've been biding my time to get rid of these bastards. Well, now I've set up the stage, I can finally finish them off. As we speak, Peralta's heading towards Intramuros to get rid of one of the conspirators - a field officer in the Civil Guard stationed near Ateneo Municipal."

"You sent Peralta to assassinate an officer? Aren't you worried about the danger of his actions implicating you somehow? What if he's caught?" I suggested.

"Oh, not at all. Peralta is a professional in these sorts of affairs and he accomplishes my orders to the letter. He leaves no trace. He leaves no witnesses. Besides, this assassination plan is foolproof, designed to make the murder look...natural."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"You recall Peralta's connections with the tulisanes, yes?" he asked.

"Yes." I replied. "What about it?"

"It has been brought to my attention that Peralta's old friends are facing a shortage of weapons and ammunition after suffering a major loss in an encounter near Tiani not too long ago, and I've decided to...give a show of goodwill to our friends. The plan is to lead the tulisanes within the borders of the Walled City at night under the guise of a promise of a hidden stash of obsolete weapons and ammunition near the docks west of Intramuros. Once the tulisanes have infiltrated the city, Peralta will then instigate a skirmish to draw out the Civil Guard - and with them, the target officer. Once the two forces clash, Peralta will then proceed with the assassination and...I suppose you can guess the rest."

"I see." I reacted with nonchalance. "Since the incident is a skirmish between the tulisanes and the Civil Guard, the death of the field officer will be counted off as a casualty of the encounter, eliminating the possibility of a foul play. Very clever."

"Exactly! Thank you." Penitente replied, seemingly delighted by my response. "And we're going to do the same tonight, which brings us to the agenda we have at hand. Although, I'm...I'm not sure if you're up to this since...you've never done this before, but..."

"What?" I urged him to go on.

He answered with a sigh.

"I understand that you know what sort of favor I'm going to ask of you tonight, yes?"

"I do." I replied firmly. "You're going to ask me to kill someone...right?"

"To put it bluntly, yes." Placido answered, trying break a smile to humor me. "You see, I...I understand the weight of my request is not a light thing to bear. As much as possible, I don't want to place this burden upon you, as killing someone for the first time is not a very poetic experience as modern literature might advertise. If I can just assign this job to one of the contractors to spare you the trouble of going through with this, I would. Believe me. But...in order to ensure the future of the Club, I need to maintain our clients' confidence. This incident involving these two conspirators has exposed a huge hole in our organization's defenses, and we cannot allow that story to go out. If word of this reached the members, I would lose face - and the reputation of Los Desperados Club would plummet to the ground with me. Without good reputation, we could lose current and future business prospects. Nobody wants to do business with a service provider that is at risk."

"I understand the importance of keeping this scandal a secret to the survival of this organization, but what does that have to do with me doing the deed? I do not understand the necessity of having me to do the job. Why can't you just ask any contractor to do it?" I commented.

"I want to mitigate the spread of information. Contractors can be quite unruly. I mean, for goodness's sake, you can hear them talk about and brag about their contracts with each other at the tavern all the time!" he said.

"All right...point taken. If so, then why not assign the job to one of your Supervisors? Surely, they're more...manageable than contractors. I mean...the two Supervisors working for you already know about this, right?" I suggested.

"No. All that these Supervisors know is that the contracts I opened for the two targets were sanctioned by an Overseer. They are not aware of the purpose and intent of this operation. As such, they may not realize the importance of the secrecy of this mission without me divulging details. I don't want risk them digging into the case further than they should." he replied. "I don't trust these Supervisors to keep their mouths shut."

"Oh, for crying out loud Placido, they're your personal guard! If you can't trust them as well, then who the hell do you trust?!" I complained, raising my voice by a small degree.

"I trust you, Cristina." he answered firmly. "I trust you more than I would Peralta - or anybody else for that matter. I know that I can declare with full confidence that you will not speak of this incident to anyone."

"Was that supposed to make me swoon? What if I fail to accomplish this? You do realize that this is a very crucial job and I've never killed anyone before!" I complained.

"You're the only one I have, Cristina. I have faith in you. You can do this. In fact, only you can do this, as only a hostess can perform this job to make the narrative look convincing - and out of all the hostesses serving in the tavern, the only one I can fully trust to keep this a secret is you." he replied in a soothing voice.

I let out a sigh.

"All right. I'm listening. It's not like I can refuse you with everything that's going on right now. What needs to be done?" I offered.

Penitente paused, seemingly surprised at my reaction.

"My eternal gratitude." he answered as his lips broke into a smile, producing a moderately-sized vial from his coat filled with a white powdery substance. "Here, take this."

"You owe me a lot for this one." I replied as he handed me the vial. "So...what am I supposed to do with this? How does this work?"

"That bottle contains 250 grams of powdered potassium cyanide, a very potent asphyxiant produced by Dr. Basilio himself." Penitente explained.

"In casual Tagalog, please? I'm not very good at science." I replied.

He sighed.

"It's a compound that acts within a few minutes after administration to the body, simulating effects similar to a heart attack. There. Is that explanation good enough for you?"

"Yes. That's a lot better." I answered nonchalantly. "So basically, you want me to poison this man, am I correct?"

"Yes. Correct." Penitente affirmed.

He then paused for a few seconds, as if considering the words he's going to use next to reply.

"You know, I have to be honest with you...you're surprisingly calm for someone who's about to kill somebody for the first time. One moment, you were all jittery. Now...this. What gives?" he commented, his eyes reeking of curiosity.

"You thought I was recoiling at the thought of killing a man? I have been working for you for two years, talking about death and dealing with it as if it's a casual subject. I do not fear taking a man's life. I fear that in trying to do so, I would fail. This is my first time doing this kind of job for you."

At this, Penitente's smile grew into a grin.

"This is why I like you so much, Cristina. Ever the modern and practical woman, unlike other women here in the Philippines." he commended. "You can do this. I have faith in you."

"So...how should I proceed with the poison?" I asked.

"It has to be either inhaled or ingested for it to work effectively. You're the barkeep. You know what to do with it." Penitente explained as he pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. "Here's a list of wines that you can use to mix the poison with. Dr. Basilio was kind enough to give me this list a while back. We worked together back in the day we were in Hong Kong. He says that these wines mask the odor of the chemical."

"Really? I wasn't aware of that." I said, perplexed by this revelation as I received the paper from him.

"Oh, I haven't told this one to you? Well, yes, we once worked together there doing jobs for a secret Chinese society from Shandong - they were called "Boxers" by the British authorities if I recall correctly. Basilio was a hell of a poisoner back then."

"Hold on. If you've done this before, then why don't you do it? If delivering the poison is all that it takes to do the job, then surely someone with experience doing it such as yourself will ensure its success." I commented.

"No, I can't be the one to do the deed. It'll be too conspicuous, and I can't be implicated in this. What do you think people will think of me if the person I gave the drink to dies of a 'heart attack' in front of me, with all the other clients present?"

"Ahh, I get it. So you want me to take the blame for the crime, is that it?!" I answered in a higher tone of voice, enraged by his response.

"No, you silly. You're missing my point." he retorted. "I'm assigning you this job because you're less likely to be implicated in a foul play. We want to make this look like he died of natural causes. To the investigators, you're just an innocent barmaid serving drinks to a lot of customers, and it just so happens that one of your customers had a heart attack while drinking. What motives would you have in killing him, anyway? None! That is why it has to be you, because only you can make the narrative look convincing. Besides, we've tested this poison in Hong Kong many, many times. The substance is barely traceable. A lot of British investigators who took the cases of our victims attributed their deaths to natural causes."

I paused for a moment, trying to absorb what Placido has just said.

"And...what happened to those cases that they didn't rule as a natural death?" I asked.

"It didn't stick, as there was a lack of evidence of a foul play."

"All right...so what's the plan?" I asked him.

"Your target is a man named Vicente Parico, a government clerk working for a Club member from Manila. I've hired this man in the past to...'help' mask major Club transactions across the city. The other Club members from Manila vouched for him, so naturally I'd hand over the task of 'fixing' our financial statements to this guy. The bastard got greedy, and so he plans to sell a list of Club members along with his ledgers to the authorities through one of his contacts. As we speak, he's inside the tavern drinking with his employer. I've instructed Josefa to stall him for as long as she can, so you need to hurry. I've arranged for a Supervisor to be on standby inside the tavern to introduce you to the target, as I'm aware that you have no way of identifying him. "

"I see." I acknowledged. "By the way, how did you get him to come here in Batangas again?"

"I asked his employer to bring him along here to assist with the transaction, as it's their job to inspect the rice produce bound for Manila next week. Bilibid Prison is requiring a restock, as their rice supplies are running low and their prison guards are starting to complain. It's a golden opportunity, so I'm not about to pass it up." he replied. "Well, you better run along now. The target's not going to poison itself."

"All right. I'll be on my way now." I answered as I took my leave, clasping the vial tightly. But as I was exiting the carriage, Placido took me by the hand.

"Wait. I forgot to tell you something." he said.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I know I don't tell you this much, but...thank you, Cristina. Thank you for doing this." he spoke softly. "Vicente Parico doesn't know about you or the tavern being an organizational asset, so he won't be suspecting anything. Be at ease. Good luck, Cristina."

I chose not to answer, as I had none to give him.

He let go of my hand as I exited the coach, and I started to make my way towards the tavern once more.

Inside the building, I was greeted by the Supervisor that Placido sent in beforehand. He courteously pointed me towards one of the tables in the far end of the tavern, and in the distance, I can see Josefa chatting with one of the men seated there.

"I suppose it's you who's going to perform the deed?" the Supervisor asked casually.

"Yes." I thriftly replied. "Who's the target?"

"You see that man talking to your fellow hostess, wearing that fine brown suit? That's the man." he said as he discreetly pointed the target with his lips. "I'm not sure why Don Penitente wanted you to do the job, but that's an easy kill right there. Congratulations."

"Umm...thank you." I replied out of impulse, unsure what is the right thing to say to the Supervisor.

Without delay, I immediately walked towards the counter and approached the new hostess behind it. "I need a tray and five glasses of amontillado for the gentlemen on the far corner please."

"¡Un momento." she answered as she was preparing my request. "You don't seem like yourself, Cristina. You look...rattled. Are you all right?"

"I...I'm fine, thank you." I replied to dismiss her.

"If you say so." she said as she fills the last glass with wine and places it on top of the tray along with the other glasses. "Here you go."

"Thank you." I muttered as she turned her back and returned to her duties, arranging the wine bottles in their proper order.

I then discreetly removed the cork plugged into the opening of the vial and poured the contents into one of the glasses, I then lifted the glass and rock it carefully in a counter-clockwise manner for a few seconds to stir it.

When the white powder has completely dissolved, I set it down on the tray along with the other glasses, sliding it over my palm and went my way towards the table of my target.

A mix of laughs and happy chatter can be heard at the table where my mark is sat, as a red-faced Josefa cracked jokes with the men while they drank and played cards. The men took notice of my presence as I approach, and they abruptly stopped playing as I was about to close in on the table.

"Ah, what do we have here?" commented one of the men as he turned his head towards me, his eyes scanning the entirety of my features. "Oh, my apologies. Where are my manners? My name is Señor Pasta, and I believe we haven't been introduced señorita...?"

"Dela Cruz. Cristina Dela Cruz, seńor. A pleasure to meet you." I answered as I stretched out my free hand.

"Ah, an Ind-...Filipina with European class. Or perhaps a Spanish mestiza? I may be mistaken." he answered as he kissed my hand.

"A mestiza, señor. Como esta tu noche? (How is your night?)" I asked out of courtesy.

"Wonderful, wonderful. Muy bien." he replied with a satisfied tone. "Ahh! Allow me to introduce you to my fellow guests here at the table. This is Seńor Laruja, my business partner. This old gentleman over here is the retired lieutenant-general Miguel Guevarra. The bald man over there is Señor Faustino Eleazar, one of the administrative officer for the logistics in Bilibid, and lastly, Vicente Parico, his certified accountant."

"A pleasure to meet you all, gentlemen." I greeted as I bowed, to which they responded with positive replies. "The night is still long. Would you like to try our vintage amontillado to brighten up the mood of the night? Courtesy of the tavern for our faithful patrons."

"Oh, did you say vintage? Well, I would like to try one please." he said as he tried to pick the poisoned one off the tray.

"Please. Allow me." I said as I placed my hand over his to stop him. I then proceeded to place a glass on each of the men's hand, handing out the last and the poisoned one to Vicente Parico as I looked intently in his eyes and gave him a sweet smile.

"Forgive me for my ignorance, but is this the first time you've been in our establishment, Señor Parico? I know the patrons by face, and to be honest, this is the first time I have seen yours." I remarked.

"Ahh, yes. Actually, I was brought along by Señor Eleazar on matters of business." he answered as he received the glass.

"Ahh, I see. Well, I do hope you find this place to your liking." I answered as I lowered the tray and stowed it off on top of my lap."If you ever need anything gentlemen, I'll be on the counter."

"Let's do a toast!" Josefa abruptly announced in her somewhat groggy voice. "Let's do that fancy whateveritis thing the ilustrados do up North! Come, Cristina! Come, join us!"

The men were dead silent for a moment, with judging eyes directed at Josefa. Then, a few seconds later, the once quiet crowd broke into a fit of laughter.

"To what shall we toast to, huh, Josefa?" Señor Eleazar asked as he wrapped his arms around her, with Josefa reciprocating with a lean on his shoulder.

"Uhhh...I dunno, to being drunk, I guess...for all I care. Let's just do the damn thing, for goodness's saaaake..." was her sloshed reply.

"Señorita, come join us!" Vicente invited.

"Forgive me, but I have to return to my-"

"Nonsense!" Josefa interrupted. "Faustino, can you get me that clean glass over there?"

"Certainly, dear." he complied, handing me the glass and pouring a generous amount of the red wine left over on the bottle.

Señor Faustino then raised his amontillado, and the rest of us followed suit. "A toast...to being drunk!" he announced.

"Hear!" we responded in chorus as they raised their glasses. Señor Faustino then crossed arms with Josefa, downing their drinks as their elbows interlocked.

"This vintage wine is good! Very...smooth and rich." Señor Pasta commented as he placed his glass on the table.

"Can we get another round, Cristina?" Josefa abruptly requested as she placed her glass on the table.

"That's...that's vintage wine, Josefa." I replied hesitantly.

"Oh, don't worry. I'll foot the bill. Bring us a bottle of that vintage amontillado." Señor Faustino volunteered, pulling Josefa closer to him.

"Oh, I see. Well, in that case, excuse me, I'll be back-"

I was interrupted by the sound of glass breaking on the floor. Vicente Parico, who was quite lively when I came, was now getting a little pale and struggling to prop himself upright.

"Are you all right, señor?" I asked to fake empathy. "You don't look so good."

"Vicente, talk to me." Señor Faustino demanded as he took hold of his subordinate. "Vicente, don't-...doctor! Doctor! Is there a doctor here?! Help!"

The entire tavern just stopped at this very pitiful sight as Vicente dropped to the floor, struggling to breathe.

"Out of the way! I am a physician!" announced a Spanish gentleman in a fine tophat and frock coat. He then began to examine the victim, starting with the eyes all the way to his pulse.

"He's having a heart attack." he said. The people at the table were all awe-stricken as the doctor attempted to revive my mark with his medical tools and chest compressions.

"I-I'm going to get help!" I declared as I made my way outside.

"Wait a minute, señorita!" he yelled, stopping me in my tracks as he was resuscitating him. "What did you give him? What did he drink?"

"I...I only gave him a glass of vintage amontillado. That's all, señor!" I replied in panic.

The doctor continued doing chest compressions, interjected with the occassional leaning of his head on the victim's chest. He did this for a few minutes until finally he stopped with a last lean on the victim's head.

"He's dead." he declared as he took out his pocket watch with his left hand and made a sign of the cross with his right. "Time of death, 12:56 PM. Cause of death still unknown. May God have mercy on your soul. Requiescat in pace." he declared as he stored his pocket watch and produced a notebook from his coat to jot down notes.

"Shall I call for a wagon, sir?" I asked the doctor.

"Yes...please. Thank you, señorita." he replied in a very frustrated tone.

"Vicente..." Señor Faustino said under his breath, his hand shaking as he struggled to complete the sign of the cross.

I made my way out of the tavern and once more into the street and went straight to the house of a nearby cochero.

In the distance, I saw Placido peek from his carriage, glancing a smile towards my direction before ordering his cochero to move, his grin slowly dissolving into the shadows.