"You know who's left I'm talking about goggle boy?" Boss asked the bandaged man, tapping the left side of her head as she pointed her revolver to his head, answering herself "My left."

The bandaged man held the dagger, standing one desk's length away from her gun. He didn't seem to show terror from having a stubby barrel aiming right at the temple, nor did he show anger from being challenged to such a degree. Though if he did have any emotions, it was hard to tell.

The rest of the people in the room watched the event unfold before their eyes, breathless and silent.

Aqib was sweating bullets. The man who was given the revolver held his gun tight, prepared to engage at any moment. Chen couldn't move, stuck between a rock and a hard place. The old lady stared at the scene before her, eyes widened, vigor riding the wrinkles on her face.

The bandaged man stood still and silent, staring at the barrel before his head.

Then he switched hands with the blade, holding it tight with his left palm.

Boss extended her index finger, bending it away from the trigger, "I won't count. Come at me; anytime."

The bandaged man didn't answer. He lowered his shoulders. He switched his grip with the dagger, opposing the blade with his thumb as he raised it beneath his chin.

Boss closed her finger around the trigger.

"Ready-"

The bandaged man blinked.

Chen felt a draft blow across his face.

It was the first draft he felt for hours. He'd just spent all night walking across the wasteland with his reconnaissance team. It should've been cold out at night, but it was also the time when the heat trapped in the ground during the day gets released into the air. It was boiling from the top at day and cooking from the bottom at night.

If that wasn't enough, their nightly ventures came up as always: absolutely nothing. Bandit raids are rising; caravans are going missing; the town's losing supplies. Even after all these years, no one knows where they set-up camp.

He essentially wasted his whole night in the wasteland with his team just so he could return and report back that there was absolutely nothing found; as per the usual.

Then they received radio commands that they were to take a long way around to reach for a caravan reported raided, just as they were reaching the town. It only added a measly thirty minutes to their journey but every step felt like a begrudging insult to his already fruitless efforts.

To pour salt on his wounds, bandits even had the audacity to strike whilst they were barely half an hour away. He was tired; his knees were already shambling and his vision blurring. He didn't have the energy to be mad. He could only sigh, and even that felt as if it had taken a toll on him.

Then they found the remains of the caravan, and it all spiralled down to this.

Chen was rooted to his spot. Behind him were his commander and his colleague, all tensed from crown to toe, ready to shoot at any moment with him in the crossfire. In front of him was Boss and a stranger, about to engage in close-quarter combat with the former with a snub-nosed revolver and the latter with nothing but a dagger.

He felt trapped in a box of pressure plates; any tiny movement could set off both sides, and he didn't want to be part of the aftermath.

Then came the first draft of wind he'd ever felt since last night. It brushed against his face like a light handkerchief and smelled like an unwashed handkerchief. For a moment, he felt the pores of his skin open, inviting the first sight of luxury since who knew when.

However, the sight before his eyes was too distracting for him to feel anything.

The bandaged man disappeared from his eyes. He didn't catch his footsteps, nor did he see his body move.

All he sensed was the wind in his face, tightly followed by a soft clank of metal.

Chen glanced to the side, and there the bandaged man stood, pushing his lean frame towards Boss, his goggles staring right up to her face and his dagger was lodged across the side of her head.

He was speechless. Nobody spoke a word.

Boss's face was in disbelief, hesitant to take in the sight before her eyes. The revolver was still stretched out in front of her, aiming towards the empty air. Slowly, she glanced to the dagger on her side, staring as the notches on the blade's blunt edge caressed her cheeks.

No blood came out of it.

Chen then saw a smile crack across Boss's face, grinning as she raised a finger from her free hand and pointed it towards the blade. He watched as she traced it from the base to the tip, brushing her hair aside, revealing her left air to the open air.

It was a human ear, no doubt, but upon closer inspection, it started to confuse. It was too perfect of an ear, with no slight deformations usually present with normal ears one would see. Though the tip of the blade pushed against underneath the lobe, it didn't affect the flesh, not even by a fraction. The shape was perfect, even under the dagger's influence. The flesh was also suspiciously miscoloured with her normal skin. It was dark, yet seemed a tinge too peachy than it should be, with an unnatural, matte sheen that prevented any light from bouncing off it.

The bandaged man looked away, his goggles moving from Boss's face to the peculiar ear before him.

She tapped the ear with her fingernail. An odd, metal clink sounded from it.

She spoke with a smile, "Metal ear. I had it replaced in an accident. Sorry I didn't mention that."

When she finished her words the bandaged man looked down to his side, finding out she had lowered the revolver and is now jamming the barrel to his waist.

She then pulled the trigger.

A loud blast deafened every occupant in the room. It was so loud that the ringing that came after seemed to drown itself out with every loop.

The bandaged man stayed where he was, as stationary as before. He looked down towards his waist, smoke trailing from the barrel pointed to his overcoat.

Everyone else, however, was either wide-eyed or still recovering from the gunshot. Aqib and Chen were rooted on the spot, looking towards Boss and the bandaged man with an open mouth and a choked throat. The old lady was squinting her eyes, the ringing putting great strain on her limp ears. The man with the sackful of bullets had dropped the sackful of bullets, shutting his ears with both hands.

Sounds of panicked footsteps grew louder and louder from outside.

The door was kicked open with a panicked Haikal in the doorway. Following behind was the man who was with him in the hut at the entrance, panting with reddened cheeks.

"WHAT HAPPENED," Haikal screamed.

"Nothing," Boss answered, rubbing her right ear, "Nothing happened."

"What's that gunfire," Haikal demanded.

Boss pulled the gun away from the bandaged man, retracting the barrel from his waist. The overcoat was intact, with only a dirty halo of soot present upon it. She raised the revolver into the air and released the cylinder, smoke pouring out of the hole where the bullet was placed.

"Blank," she said, pushing the bullet out of the cylinder with the ejector rod.

She glanced towards the bandaged man as she pulled open the drawer and put the revolver inside.

"You can let go now,” she told the bandaged man.

The bandaged man was unresponsive at first. He then slowly retracted his dagger, pulling it to his hips. His pose seemed to stiffen, shaken up by the gunshot from before, though his reaction paled in comparison with the others.

"Chen," Boss called out as she closed the drawer.

Chen snapped out of his stunned trance as he heard his name called. He quickly answered, "Y-Yes, Boss."

She asked, "Where's the carriage now?"

"S-Still on-site," he said, "I've got two men guarding it at the moment."

"They've got radios with them?"

Chen nodded.

"Good, tell them to standby. We'll dispatch a Kertau to salvage the wreckage when we get one," she said.

Aqib chimed in, "There's a free one in the stables. From the same caravan too."

Boss shook her head, "Pick another one. Just in case it gets spooked. You go do that, Chen."

Chen nodded and stumbled out of the room in uneven steps, still rattled by the gunshot, pushing away from Haikal as he left.

"Go with him, Dharmann," she commanded, "And leave the sack to Aqib."

The man with the revolver, Dharmann, nodded, his hands still pressed against his ears. The sack was already on the floor, whereby Aqib picked it up as Dharmann rushed out, Haikal giving way.

"Return to position, Haikal," she ordered, "And close the door behind you."

Haikal was still unnerved by the event, but he nodded anyway, and shut the door as he left.

"Sit back there, goggle boy," she spoke to the bandaged man.

The bandaged man obliged, taking the dagger with the scabbard as he returned to his seat beside the old lady.

"I have an agreement to make with you goggle boy," Boss said as she leaned onto the desk.

"I can take you to Peris," she said, "But on one condition: you're gonna help me with something."

The bandaged man didn't reply.

"I'm gonna need your skills to take down the bandit group," she said.

The bandaged man remained quiet.

Boss extended an open palm, "I don't know if you're listening or not. Put a fist on my hand if you understand me."

The bandaged man stared at Boss's open palm and took approximately three seconds before raising a fist and resting it on her hand.

"Good," she said, "The bandits' been a problem for a long time. It's been manageable for a while but lately, it's gotten worse. You see the crowd outside? It shouldn't be like this. Traders are taking refuge in our rooms, and we can't accommodate them all. Some are sleeping out on the streets. They're too scared to leave.

"Our supplies' been running low as well. No one's willing to come to us. It's a highway of hell between here and our outposts. A bandit's fever dream. We're eating three days' worth of supplies in one. The traders won't budge either. It's every man for their own. If we don't do something about it Sampah's as good as dead, and that's hoping the bandits won't strike us at first.

"As I said, I can get you to Peris; it's a no man's land, yes, but on the other side of Peris is a border where some religious sect runs the land. I don't know their name; never bothered with it. Every half a year we trade big with them; we send them food, water and women, they send us guns and Kertaus. It’s our main export; guns. People come here for it. It’s how we stay afloat. Our next run's scheduled for next month, which is in three weeks. It's a big deal; we're cutting half our forces just to escort the caravan. It's a week's walk, to and back, but we always end up with a lost arm or a broken leg. That's how I lost my ear. We haven't lost a guy, though; not since two years ago. Almighty bless Josar; may his soul rest in peace.

"If the attacks continue like this, we won't have enough supplies to fuel the trip across Peris, much less run the town for another month.

"These bandits are smart. They pick everything, torch everything else, cover their tracks and are gone like the wind. Though once in a while, they'll leave something behind."

Boss reached towards the shotgun resting on her desk. She flipped the stock towards the bandaged man and showed it to him.

"The skull with tits. My boys call them Tengkoda, and the name stuck. I'm not calling them that, so I'll stick with 'bandits'. Every once in a while some bozo will leave either an empty pistol or a shotgun. It'll be burnt and unusable, but the logo's still there, carved to the stock or the grip. And when I say every once in a while, I mean twice. We only found two of them, for a better half of the decade I've been running this town.

"But you, goggle boy; you're a lucky charm.

"We never had leftovers from the attacks. They're always gone when we find them; not until you came around. You not only gave us an intact piece but five more bodies to pick from.

"And here's where you come in."

Then Boss paused her words. She extended her palm again, and the bandaged man responded accordingly, but not without a three-second window in between.

"Good," she said, "Here's the deal: If we're to find any clue to the bandits' whereabouts from the bodies, you're gonna help us extinguish them. They've lost their chance for diplomacy ever since they've torched one of us. We've already got some mercs on standby in town, ready to make quick work for quick money. But I don't like them as much as you. You know your knife as well as I know my left ear. You're also good at shutting up and listening to orders. You also left us with a clue with the dead bandits, and that's extra credit in my book.

"And with that, we'll take you along for the ride across Peris. We'll even throw in a bonus for you at the end of the journey. Food, water, bullets; anything you like."

Boss then extended her palm again, resting it right in front of the bandaged man.

"Deal?"

The bandaged man stared.

One second.

He stayed silent.

Two seconds.

He shifted his shoulders.

Three seconds.

He raised his fist and placed it on Boss's palm.

"Good, good," she repeated, "Simple business; just how I like it.

"But, just for your sake, and for a sound sleep at night…”

She retracted her hand and placed both palms on the desk.

“Can I at least have a name?”

The bandaged man remained still and silent.

“You’ve got a note? Know how to write? Carved it onto your arms?”

The bandaged man kept quiet.

“Anything?”

The bandaged man reached into his overcoat.

He pulled out a small book clad in a dirty, leather cover. Scraps of yellow, dried paper stuck out from the side of the pages, all bound together with a frizzled string. The bandaged man unwound the string and opened the book. It was filled with clippings from various sources, all stuck onto the pages of the book; some were folded inwards to make for space, while others were left sticking out, its exposed areas facing the brunt of the weather.

He flipped the book to its front cover and opened the first page. He showed it to Boss. She leaned in for a closer look.

“Subjek?”

The bandaged man gave no response.

“Subjek, huh.”

The bandaged man, Subjek, closed the book and wound it with the string before stuffing it back into his overcoat.

“Aqib, take Subject and find a vacant room. We need him in top condition,” Boss commanded.

Aqib glanced towards Subjek, suspicion still present in his gaze. He hoisted Subjek by his armpits and dragged him out of the chair.

“Take the bullets with you,” Boss ordered, “Give it to him as spending money; enough for a month. We’ll put the rest in our reservoir.”

Aqib ducked down to get the sack, dragging Subjek down with him. He stood back up, arching Subjek’s back as he rose. He pulled Subjek out of the room, closing the door behind him. Subjek was silent throughout the whole ordeal.

Then Aqib suddenly stopped. He let go of Subjek and looked towards him.

“Stay here, and if I don’t see you when I come back you better wish I don’t find you,” he threatened.

Subjek replied with silence and an empty expression.

Aqib rushed back to the room. He swung open the door, seeing Boss in the exact same spot where she stood.

She looked up towards Aqib “Yes?”

“You called me earlier, Boss,” he said, “What was it?”

“Ah, right,” Boss left her desk and walked towards Aqib.

She swung her arms over his burly neck and brought her face close to his, pushing her hips close to his waist.

“I just wanted to see you,” she whispered.

“We see each other every night,” he replied softly.

“Couldn’t help myself,” she whispered.

“Try,” he answered, “And that freak outside. You sure about this?”

“He’s just a kid. His moves are amateur, but he’s a well of potential. It’ll be beneficial to have him around,” she said, “Train him around in your free time. I got a feeling you’ll like him a lot.”

“That freak?”

“You complained about the recruits before, maybe this one’s up to speed. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy to complain too,” Boss said, “You also said you were losing touch, didn’t you.”

“I told you to keep that to yourself,” Aqib said.

“And I’m saying I don’t need to,” she said, “If the guy is what I think he is, he might pull you out of that rut.”

Aqib stood in place, silent.

Boss leaned in and gave him a peck on his sweat-covered cheek, “Give it a shot.”

“Right,” he said, “Sure, Boss.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said, “No one’s around now.”

Aqib sighed and repeated himself.

“Yes, Hawa,” he said.

“Now go do your job,” Hawa said, “And be back be-”

“Before ten,” he said, “When have I ever forgotten?”

“Last week,” she said.

Aqib defended himself, “I told you, that was something urgent at the northern gates-”

“Go,” Hawa said.

“Fine,” he broke away from her embrace and held the door as he stepped out, “See you at ten.”

Hawa watched Aqib shut the door behind him as he left. She stretched her heels and pulled the arms to the ceiling. It was a tiring day today. She had all sorts of issues to deal with since the break of dawn. Conflict between rival traders, complaints from lack of supplies, overcrowding, survey team spotting faults in the western walls, and now this. It was barely late into the afternoon. She figured she could catch a power nap in her office until the next sweaty private comes knocking at her door with more problems to deal with.

She turned around to her desk, pulling a yawn.

A voice sounded off from the side, “You’ve forgotten about me, haven’t you.”

Hawa turned her head towards the source of the voice.

There sat the old lady.

“My lips are sealed,” the old lady said, “Nothing in this room goes out.”

Hawa stared at her for a moment before pulling a sigh, “Sorry about that.”

“So, do I get a room myself? Some spending money, at least,” the old lady asked.

Hawa took a slow walk towards her desk and took a seat. She plopped herself down, keeping an eye on the old lady for quite a while. The old lady was silent too, shifting comfortably in her thick, drab clothes as she looked back towards Hawa.

Then Hawa spoke out, “I got more questions for you.”

“I see,” the old lady answered, “And what would they be?”

Hawa squinted her eyes, “Who are you, really?”