There were two kinds of silences in the world. One that made you feel alone and free, and another that made you feel as if it were a fog so thick it was oppressive and heavy.

Sitting alone with the criminal that was with the rebels created a third kind of silence in the room. Roth couldn’t decide what it felt like, but it felt tense, though not oppressive. Like lions sizing each other up before pouncing. The silence stretched on, neither giving in to the anticipation. That was a sign of someone competent, but not necessarily of the kind of criminal he usually worked with. For all he knew, the man was nothing but a low-level pick-pocket.

The man covered his own face with a metal mask of a miner. Not uncommon, of course, for people to walk around in their work masks. Sometimes, it was easier to wear them than to carry them around, especially when workers lugged their tools with them.

“Ardthena?” Roth said.

In Roth’s head, Jeff was surprised at the realization of how complex and well-structured the crime scene was in Taisao. Roth had reverted to the crypt that only the highest circles knew of. A few exceptional men and women who garnered reputation and infamy by their aliases, or were leaders of organized crime were the only ones privy to the language. They consisted of single words that translated into whole sentences. There were not a lot of words, but there were enough to convey important messages. In essence, Roth just asked the man what line of work he was in.

“Capa,” the man said. Retired. It could also mean dead.

Despite a correct answer, Roth wasn’t impressed. He could have learned it from somewhere. Of course, someone else learning it was highly unlikely. Passing on the knowledge was part of the rite of passage, burned into their very memories the moment a member retired and embedded the jade shard from his body to his successor.

Jeff could hardly wrap his mind around the concept. It was like inserting a flash drive from one person to another and downloading the entire vocabulary. That was one thing electricity couldn’t do. Or if it could, his world had yet to discover it.

“I mean before,” Roth said. There was nothing in the vocabulary for that.

“Minkha.” It was the all-encompassing title for those who plan jobs, or were mercenary strategists.

Roth couldn’t help but be skeptical. In all, there were only four minkha in Taisao. And yes, one had been replaced six years ago, but that still didn’t mean it was all lined up. Asking for his alias was an easy question, so he thought of a different track. “Jbar?” Job. Or in this context, what notable job he had done.

The man nodded. “The Kalimar mines owned by the Karmal family. I…procured it in behalf of the Lyoness family.”

“How?” Roth’s brows crinkled. How that was accomplished was certainly not common knowledge even in the high circles. The only reason Roth knew about it was that WindWhisper took him as a partner for the job, along with Caravan. The payout made sure that the three of them would live comfortably doing nothing for three years. But there was one caveat to the story. WindWhisper died there. He saw it with his own eyes—how he was crushed in a grinding machine. The machine eating him slowly from the foot up to the leg. Roth, of course, didn’t help. Between him and WindWhisper was a line of soldiers. To go there was suicide.

“We planted enough discontent and fixed the books. Caravan created the mechanisms to funnel the jade out and created pathways and explosions. You created havoc within the mines, delayed the family from coming with a family crisis, and I sowed discontent among the ranks and promptly died,” he said without skipping a beat. “You, I remember, walked away from me.”

‘Okay, so the man is not dead,’ Jeff said trying to remove the memory when Roth saw WindWhisper being crushed. Even Jeff could still hear the screams and the crunch of bones that accompanied the blood.

The man—WindWhisper—laughed. “Oh, come on Shadow. I’m not going to crucify you for that. I understand. I would have done the same thing if our roles were reversed. But you see, that was also part of an elaborate plan to retire. Though I really did not expect my legs to be crushed.” He stretched out a leg and pulled up his pants revealing a metal leg with gears, cogs and tubes running through, with a green glow radiating from seams. “I don’t feel a thing, but it works as well as a leg.”

Roth looked from the leg to WindWhisper’s face, which, he surprisingly uncovered. It was the first time he had seen WindWhisper’s face. The man had sandy hair and piercing blue eyes. His scar-less face radiated handsomeness with intimidation mixed in. Roth also knew who he was. Mandu. The General of the peace force in Taisao.

“I’m certain you don’t expect me to uncover my face as well?” It wasn’t a question. Of course, there were a few who knew the faces behind the aliases of the top criminals. Like how Idris knew Shadow. But even they didn’t reveal themselves to one another. “I’m surprised you’re risking your identity.”

“Because I want you to help the rebels.”

“You know, we all keep calling your group, rebels. Do you have a name? Rebels don’t exactly inspire confidence,” Roth said echoing Jeff’s concern.

“We’re working on that,” Mandu said. “I know you’re fine with the system. You profit from it very well. In fact, you are getting most of the contracts from the families themselves as they try to pull each other down. But your life has to be more than that.”

“What, and be like you?” Roth snorted. “Lackey to someone else?”

‘You know, you may be right,’ Jeff said. ‘You’re not a nice man.’

“Maybe,” Mandu shrugged. “But being retired is only the official statement.”

The gears in Roth’s head suddenly began turning. Only the official statement? That meant that WindWhisper was still running a job that began from his “death.” A six-year job that he was patiently working on.

“To be honest, I didn’t expect you to get caught. But when you were, well, plans formed in my head. Ever wonder why your mask was only taken off when you were alone with a single soldier? I chose him exactly for his horrible memory in people’s faces.

“Truth to be told, we can continue with or without you, and I won’t expect you feel any need to recompense me for leaving me to die. But I won’t lie when I say that your expertise will increase our chances for success. All plans always fall on execution and I’m working with the most crude of resources. Miners, workers, farmers…honest people who only want to do good, but have had enough of the cruelty dealt them. Ask them to do a simple pickpocket job and 99 out a hundred times, they will fail.”

Roth leaned on the armrest. “Why are you doing this? You could’ve continued as WindWhisper for another ten years and then retire. Do whatever you want with your life.”

“Suffice to say, I have my reasons,” Mandu said. “And you have yours as well. You practically offered your services. Against your clients. Seems to me, it’s more than protecting your identity and your profession.”

‘I hate you, Jeff,’ Roth growled internally.

Jeff snorted in return. ‘I did not have anything to do with you laughing your ass off at their plans, and giving a crude skeleton of what to do. That was all you, you pompous thief.’

‘You unearthed my past. Rifling through my memories like that. It’s a tender spot,’ Roth muttered.

‘Pfft! I unearthed it, but you could’ve just run away and laughed after. I did give you your body back that time.’

Roth simmered in silence, wanting to scream at Jeff, but couldn’t. Not with Mandu in the room with him. Instead, he took a deep breath and told Jeff, ‘Shut up.’

Thankfully, Jeff did as he was told.

“You have your reasons and I have mine. I won’t ask, and you won’t pry. Law of Crime.” Mandu stood. “If you want to be paid, fine. But also, remember: you’re working with me and my resources. I think we can drive the price down, don’t you think?” He put his mask back on and opened the door, speaking softly to one of the serving men before closing the door and sitting back in silence.

Roth chewed on the thought. Working with WindWhisper meant that plans would be perfect and that the perfect people would be put in the perfect job. Among all minkha, he was a legend. He had a perfect track record, considering that his “death” was included in the plan all along. And he had a knack for getting people to follow him. And the man was only two years his senior, a year or two into his thirties.

A few more moments and Nadia and Dai came in, settling themselves in the negotiating table.

This time, the negotiations tilted more against him. WindWhisper was an ace that he did not see coming.