Otto burst through the door the next morning with a big grin on his face. He still had bags under his eyes and a stubble, but that was overshadowed by the smile twisting his face.

“‘Morning folks. Hope y’all had a good night’s rest. Each and everyone one of you deserves it,” he crowed.

Upon spotting Mahku and Jesse who were seated at the table, his smile somehow widened. He slapped Jesse’s back as if the man were an old friend and not someone he was meeting for the first time.

“You must be Jesse, right? I know a fellow Duster when I see one. Glad to see you’re in the guild — we Dusters have to stick together y’know.”

Otto turned to Mahku. “And you must be Mahku. I’m glad to see you’re settling in well and enjoying your time back in Sanora. Unfortunately, you probably know we’ve still got work to do ‘fore the tourney.”

Stepping back a bit, he angled himself to face the entire room. Tera was yawning, still trying to wake up. Xujen was drying his hair off after his routine post-morning-training shower. Bauph was allocating funds for meals for the day. And Curt was getting himself a glass of water — they were still a bit too underfunded to afford any other beverage.

“Glad to see everyone’s looking chipper this morning,” Otto said. “Hope you’re all ready to tackle our next recruits. I’ve got another twosome for you guys.”

He pulled out a scrap of paper and handed it to Mahku, not seeming to care that the man was blind, and gestured at him to read it aloud. Curt nearly spat out the water when Mahku actually began to read.

“‘Daring Thieves Rob Last Legion’s Treasury’,” Mahku read. It seemed like Otto handed Mahku a piece from the local paper. “A pair of thieves — notoriously known as ‘the Viper’ and ‘the Shroud’ — plundered the wealthy guild’s troves last night. As with their previous heists, they left their signature in the guild’s halls: graffiti of a snake coiled around a veiled skull.”

After Mahku stopped reading, Xujen was the first to react. “You want use to recruit genuine criminals this time? Thieves nonetheless?”

“Damn good thieves too,” Otto said proudly. “I’ve heard how close that Last Legion guild holds their coins. They got top-notch security and these two cracked through that leaving none the wiser.”

“I don’t know about that. They did just basically paint their names in Last Legion’s headquarters,” Tera pointed out.

Otto shrugged. “Point still stands. They’re good.”

Xujen was shaking his head. “A guild is noble organization tasked with upholding the realm’s peace and security. It is no place for thieves.”

“Don’t say that,” Otto said. “At least pay ‘em a visit and see what they’re like. Not all thieves are bad.” Curt wondered if he imagined that hint of defensiveness in Otto’s tone or not. Or maybe he was just projecting. Curt’s hands weren’t exactly clean.

Jesse was nodding. “Otto’s right. Not everyone who’s on the wrong side of the law’s a bad person.” Curt caught Jesse staring at him when he said that. The young man looked away when he noticed Curt saw him. He should really apologize to Jesse soon. So much had been happening he never found the right time for it.

Otto seemed happy that Jesse had backed him up. He wrapped his arm around Jesse’s shoulder, giving him a side hug. “Boy’s totally right. I’m sure they’re good people.”

“With nicknames like ‘the Viper’ and ‘the Shroud’, how could they not be?” Tera said sarcastically.

“Regardless of their motivations, I am intrigued by those who are able to steal from Last Legion,” Mahku chimed in. “It is an impressive feat. I may have been an exile for the past few decades, but that doesn’t mean I am ignorant of the going-ons in Sanora. I have heard of these thieves before. They’ve never been caught. But it has been years I think since their last theft — I wonder what prompted this one.”

“Yeah, so how are we supposed to find them?” Bauph asked. “If the law can’t, what makes you think we can?”

“That’s what I’ve been up to lately,” Otto said. “The hit was two nights ago, and I’ve been doin’ my share of snoopin’ around since. I’ve got a lead.”

“A lead when these thieves have been wanted for years?” Bauph raised an eyebrow at Otto.

“I’m a bit more approachable to underworld folks than the law is. I speak their language. I even have a planned meeting with a contact at midnight tonight. They’re gonna take me to meet these two. Thing is, I can only take one other person with me.”

Otto stared at Curt. Of course it was going to be him.

----

The streets of Low Town were busy with its more nocturnal denizens, with rats scurrying through trash and lowlives moving through the shadows. Otto and Curt leaned against a wall in a narrow alleyway that was barely wider than his shoulder width. The alleyway led to a dead end, so Curt figured their contact would appear from its entrance. The place was suspiciously ideal for getting ambushed in.

“Hey Otto,” Curt said, breaking the silence. They’d been waiting for quite a while, and he wouldn’t be surprised if he started to see dawn break anytime soon. “Why’d you pick me to come along? Xujen or Tera would make better bodyguards than I do.”

“You’re not here as a bodyguard,” Otto replied. “Like I said before Curt, I need a guy I can trust in this guild. You’re trustworthy.”

Curt felt a stab of guilt. Curt thought about last night when he told Mahku he wasn’t sure if Otto could be trusted. Evidently he didn’t return the feelings that Otto had for him.

If he and Otto made it out of Low Town alive, Curt would tell Mahku to get Otto up to speed.

“Why do you think that anyways? I’m no stranger to lying, you know.”

Otto flicked some ash off the end of his dying cigarette. “You might be a liar, but you ain’t a backstabber.” Before Otto could elaborate, a figure stumbled into their alleyway. Curt reached for his guns, but came up empty. His mind panicked as he tried to figure how where they were. Then he remembered his revolvers exploded yesterday. He couldn’t believe he had been letting himself walk around unarmed.

Luckily, Otto had already drawn his, pointed at the dark silhouette at the entrance of the alleyway. Still, Curt felt exposed, and helpless. Once again, he questioned why Otto decided to bring him here.

Curt couldn’t make the figure’s face, or even build. They wore a formless cloak that covered most of their body, and they were hunched forward, making it difficult to tell their height. They took a shaky step forward, dragging one of their legs behind them.

Otto kept the guns trained on the stranger, his face puzzled. A metallic smell filled the alleyway — the scent of blood. The figure seemed to try and reach out toward them, then collapsed.

For a brief moment, both Otto and Curt were too stunned to make a move. Recovering his senses first, Curt cautiously approached the fallen form. Otto kept his guns drawn, pointed at the unmoving body.

The person was faced down, one hand stretched out toward them, and in the faint moonlight, Curt could see the shine of a trail of blood behind them. One of their legs looked torn up, gleaming with blood. Whoever this was, they weren’t in good shape. Now that he was close, he could hear their fluttering breath. They were still alive.

“Hey, are you okay?” Curt asked.

The outstretched hand quivered as the person tried to lift it, pointing further into the alleyway. Curt had to crouch closer to hear as the person rasped, “Take… me… secret door…”

Curt conveyed what he heard to Otto. Otto’s eyes flicked to the pooling blood under the body; he nodded at Curt. The two of them knew whoever this was didn’t have long. They had lost a lot of blood already. Curt leaned down and wrapped the stranger’s arm around his shoulder. Otto came over to the other side to help.

The stranger gasped as they were hoisted up by the two Dusters. Otto glanced at the stranger’s now exposed face. His eyes widened with recognition as he stared at the face of an old man. Curt figured this was their contact. The blood flowing freely on the streets were probably why he was delayed.

The narrow alleyway made it difficult to maneuver in, but they managed to bring the stranger to the dead-end. The old man was breathing hard.

“What happened?” Otto asked.

“Attacked… Blood Moon… got to warn… them,” the old man whispered. He raised a shaking arm, and traced some kind of symbol against the wall. Pushing himself up, the old man lurched forward and passed through the wall as if it wasn’t there. Curt and Otto glanced at each other.

“You first?” Otto gestured for Curt to go.

Curt sighed, but went toward what looked like a very solid wall with a hand out, just in case. Curt watched as his hand got swallowed up by the wall. It really wasn’t there anymore. He ducked through the wall, with Otto close behind.

Wherever he just entered, it was dark. Pitch black, in fact. Curt couldn’t see a thing and he didn’t like it, especially now that he was aware he was unarmed. He could hear the harsh breathing of the old man who had gone through first just in front of him.

“Where are we?” Otto’s voice came from behind Curt.

“Who’s there?” A hostile voice rang out from somewhere. Curt could hear the click of Otto’s revolvers getting ready.

“Oleander,” the old man wheezed in reply.

The darkness lifted. It was like someone removed a hood over his head that he didn’t realize was there. Curt could now see they were in some kind of narrow hallway that sloped steeply downwards into the earth. The old man, Oleander, was slumped against the wall, his torn leg limp and still bleeding profusely.

A cold blade pressed up against Curt’s neck. He couldn’t even turn to see who was holding it. Judging by Otto’s silence, he was also being held at knifepoint. The old man raised one of his hands weakly.

“They’re… help,” Oleander said. Oleander coughed, sending droplets of blood flying. The dagger disappeared from Curt’s neck. A woman appeared by Oleander’s side as if she materialized out of nowhere. She knelt beside him, one of her hands resting lighting on his arm. The blade of a dagger shone in the other.

Behind Curt, Otto let out a sigh of relief. Another woman stepped away from Otto, and Curt saw she had bladed claws over her hands. Each blade was curved to be wicked sharp, like a snake’s fangs. The Viper and the Shroud. So their contact wasn’t lying about taking them to the thieves. But Curt bet Oleander didn’t count on getting mauled on the way.

“What happened?” The woman with the dagger asked. Curt realized he recognized her. Auburn skin, dark hair cut short, lithe build, and pointed face — she was one of the trainees who passed Jinpuhn’s test at Sahnju Dojo. To think even thieves took lessons there.

“Blood Moon,” Oleander rasped. He looked like he was about to say more, but the woman wielding claws hushed him. She took out a small vial of red colored liquid, and brought it to his lips, prompting him to drink. Probably medicine, Curt hoped.

“Is he going to be okay?” Curt asked. He felt a bit helpless just standing there. He also wanted to know what the hell was going on. Otto looked just as confused as he did, so he guessed this wasn’t something Otto planned on either.

Oleander drank the entirety of the vial, and he seemed to relax. His shoulders slumped, his breathing slowed, and his eyes finally closed. He looked like he was asleep. Curt hoped that he was just sleeping.

“Mostly a painkiller,” the woman who Curt supposed was the Viper said in response. “Whoever did this to Oleander intended to make his death slow and painful.” The venom in her voice was almost palpable. The Shroud made a makeshift tourniquet from the rags of the old man’s cloak to help stop the bleeding in his leg.

“We have a guy who knows some healing spells,” Curt offered, thinking about Bauph. In a world with magic so readily available, surely a wound like this wasn’t fatal.

The Viper was shaking her head. “This wound was made to not be healable.”

“A Blood Moon speciality,” the Shroud said.

“Uh.” Curt didn’t really know what to say. He barely knew the old guy, and if it weren’t for Otto’s insistence, he wouldn’t be here by choice. He looked towards Otto. He was the guild leader; he should be taking charge.

Curt wasn’t the only one. Both the Viper and the Shroud were also directing their gazes towards Otto.

“I’m guessing you’re Otto, the one Oleander was supposed to bring?” the Viper asked. Otto nodded. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “Not sure. We planned to meet at midnight so Curt n’ I have been standing in that alleyway since then. Thought I was stood up ’til he stumbled into the alley like that. Didn’t see anybody else.”

The Viper scowled, not at them in particular. But still, Curt had a feeling if he and Otto didn’t seem useful, they might not be around much longer. The fact that Oleander was now unconscious probably didn’t help. If anyone knew what happened to him, he probably did.

“Who’s Blood Moon anyways?” Curt decided to ask. He was gunless and clueless here, but at least he could change the latter.

“You don’t know?” The Shroud regarded him with distrust.

“We’re new here,” Otto explained.

“Aren’t you from a guild? I’m surprised you’ve never heard of them — any guild worth their salt should know the name ‘Blood Moon’. I’m guessing you guys didn’t actually win against Ancient World after all. So, how big was the bribe?”

The Viper stepped between the glaring Shroud and Otto. “Oleander vouched for them,” she said. “I trust his judgement.”

The Viper turned towards Otto and Curt, looking like she was sizing them up despite what she said about trusting Oleander. Unlike the Shroud, her skin was pale, making the bright purple tattoos that covered her right leg and left arm stand out all the more.

“Blood Moon is an A-rank guild,” the Viper explained. “They specialize in assassination.”

“Hold up,” Otto interrupted. “Assassinations? I signed the new guild paperwork not too long ago, and I’m pretty sure one of the rules I signed off on included killing people being illegal, even for a guild.”

“Publicly they don’t kill,” the Viper said. “Privately, it’s an open secret they do killings for a fee. Of course they get away with it, after all, some of their clientele are the very enforcers of those guild laws.”

“And I’m guessing the Last Legion put them up to this,” the Shroud sighed. “Oleander was right — Last Legion was a bad hit.”

The Viper was shaking her head. “We had no choice.” Then, looking at Otto and Curt again. “You wanted to recruit us into Point Blank, right?”

Otto nodded, slowly. Curt had a feeling Otto knew what was coming.

“Find out who in Blood Moon cursed Oleander,” the Viper said. “Get him cured, and we’ll actually join your guild.”

“And get Blood Moon off our backs,” the Shroud added. “We probably won’t be very useful dead, otherwise.”

“You have at most three days.” The Viper glanced at Oleander. “Potions can only do so much.”

“Of course,” Otto said, agreeing to the request. “We’ll help the old man, promise.”

Curt paused before going back through the false wall.

“’Actually join’ our guild,” Curt echoed. “What were you guys planning on doing before?”

The Shroud sent him a cold smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”