It was only when William started to train me on the basics of boxing that I realised how hopelessly out of my depth I was when I challenged him. It was a well-deserved trouncing brought about by my own personal arrogance. Who knew that learning to stand in the correct stance and throw a good punch was so complicated? Not me.

He was ruthless in his methods, and didn’t shy away from targeting me with withering nit-picks at every opportunity. It took me nearly three hours to finally satisfy him by displaying some knowledge of the basics. I didn’t have any time to rest though, because after that he dragged me over to one of the punching bags and told me to keep going until my arms stopped working.

The first punch I unloaded nearly tore the thing from the metal chain that suspended it from the ceiling. I had to hold back my own strength. I focused on going as fast as I could while still following his guidance on how to stand and unfurl my arms. William would go and speak with the other people using his basement, and then return every so often to make sure that I wasn’t slacking on posture or form.

Thanks to my endurance stat, I could last for a pretty long time before earning the [exhausted] status. I elected to finish off when I thought William was happy with me, which he signalled by commenting on how long I was going for a beginner. I rested my arms and sat down on a nearby bench to collect myself and await his next instruction.

When he came back around to me, he observed me with a trainer’s eye, “That’s good enough for now, you could probably beat most of the guys as you are now-“

But everything in the room came to a stop as the doors were pulled open from outside, a pair of long, lanky legs descending the steps and revealing a stranger. William was very quick to cross the room and pull him aside closer to me. William didn’t object as I moved up next to him to see what was going on.

“Hello Vincent,” he greeted with clenched teeth.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Trouble. That’s what he is.”

‘Vincent’ was the shiftiest looking guy I’d ever seen and I was a man who used to make a living breaking and entering. He was thin like a weed, with sunken eyes and a long nose that threatened to touch his top lip, which was warped into a seemingly permanent sneer. He was wearing black trousers, a flat cap, suspenders and a white t-shirt.

“I assume I did something terrible to be forced to see your ugly mug again.”

“Is that any way to say hello to a good friend?”

“There’s nothing good about you. You’ve got a heart as black as coal, you do.”

“I came here about my offer-“

William was incensed, he stormed into Vincent’s personal space and wagged his finger like an angry old man. “I already told you no, Vincent! Go find Adam and tell him that I don’t care what he threatens me with, I’m not doing it.”

Vincent tried to steer things his way, “But think of the money! You could do a lot for the kids around here if you’d just let go of that stubborn pride of yours!”

Ah, a classic. Any criminal telling you that they’re doing it for humanitarian reasons is someone to avoid. I’d had my own fair share of run-ins with people stealing on the behalf of orphanages and soup kitchens, who in truth were not plentiful enough to support their number. If an orphanage needs money, it’s usually the kids themselves who do all of the work…

Hell, my first memory of leaving the orphanage with some of the other boys was so we could pickpocket rich people on the main avenue through the city. I was still cute back then and had a face like a kicked puppy – so they put me on distraction duty.

“It’s not pride. It’s respect, something that you and Adam need to learn about.”

Vincent was angry that his arm-twisting hadn’t given him results, “You know what we have on you William. We hand those papers over to the Warsister and you can kiss your comfortable little life here goodbye.”

“…I’d rather that than throw a fight.”

“I don’t understand you.”

I didn’t either.

Vincent sensed that he wasn’t going to get anywhere. So he decided it was time to leave and let William stew in it, “Ah. It’s a shame though, you worked so hard to buy this house and all.”

William wasn’t having it, “You can leave now, or in a moment with a few less teeth.” Vincent took that threat seriously enough, he looked shell-shocked. He jogged back up the steps and out of the gym without another word.

I threw up my hands, “You getting extorted by some low-level guys?” William looked down to the ground crestfallen.

“Would you be willing to do a job for me?”

“Depends what it is.”

“…Come with me.”

William led me out of the basement and around to the front door of the house, letting me inside. His front room was evidence enough that he’d once worked as a soldier in the military. They usually ended up in one of two forms, a drunkard who had no time or care for cleaning, or a highly regimented nutcase who took a lot of pride in their work.

William was the latter. Armour and weapons had been mounted on either side of the living room’s fireplace. Though one thing was conspicuous by its absence, there were no banners or standards on display to go with them. A long serving soldier was usually given one by their commanding officers as a sign of enduring and dedicated service.

I took a seat in one of the plush chairs and continued, “So what’s going on? Who’s this Vincent guy?”

William sat across from me and arched his hands, “Vincent works for a local guy called Adam Briar. They’ve got all kinds of pieces in the fighting rings going on right now. When I started tearing things up and winning a lot of money, they threatened to blackmail me if I didn’t throw a few matches for them. He tries to dress it up like some kind of community service. What a load of bullshit.”

“The odds must be stacked against your opponents, if they bet everything on them…”

“Not everything – that’d make the other guys suspicious. Just enough to get a nice payday out of it. I told them no.”

“What about the blackmail?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’m not the kinda’ person who knows where to get a rogue on the payroll. And would you look at that, one of them just strolled right through my doors. I’ll tell you what it is if you agree to the job.”

“What’s the job?”

“Shadow that arsehole and find out where he’s keeping it. I don’t care what you have to do – as long as he doesn’t have those documents anymore. Call it payment for the training and invitation to the fight club, and some extra cash on top of that.”

He seemed well off enough to pay me for a robbery, so I held out my hand and we shook on it.

“What are these documents?”

“Commission papers from when I was in the army.”

I shrugged, “I don’t see why that’d be a problem.”

“From when I lived back in Sull,” he emphasised, “If the locals found out about it; well I don’t know what would happen to me. I’d lose my house at least, if not my life too.”

I understood implicitly. It was unofficial Federation policy to keep current and former military officers from Sull out of their borders. I got the impression that William had lived here for much longer than the current war had been going on – but that didn’t change public opinion. There was no love lost between the two sides when young citizens were dying on the battlefield.

“How did he even get those papers?” I asked.

“I don’t know. He knows somebody who knows somebody. They keep those records for a very long time, and it’s easy enough for a skilled thief to break in and steal one without the keepers noticing. Even when I was there I heard about it happening several times; mostly juniors trying to desert before being deployed, paying a local to grab them.”

“He needs those papers to make you throw the fight.”

“I’m not doing it even if he has them!” William yelled suddenly, “I’d rather die than throw a fight!”

I stared at him as he leapt from his chair and thumped his chest. I wasn’t going to say it to his face, but I was feeling Vincent on this one. Pride didn’t pay the bills, though William hadn’t told me if he was going to get paid for throwing the fight. If he was, then I couldn’t understand his perspective. I had my own limits – but there was a very scant chance of him facing consequences for doing it. That’s why he and I were different creatures. I would have taken the money.

But people like William could afford to protect their pride, pride’s damn expensive. He already had a comfortable house and a chest full of gold from his army days. If I started acting like he did I would have died out on the streets years ago. It’s funny how being raised in different environments created people who were so different like that.

“Do you have any other information to go on?”

“Adam’s the leader of a gang called the Well’s Street Boys. Name’s self-explanatory, it’s a street running down the east side of the city. I think he has a house down there where they meet up. I’d say that he’s likely keeping them in there.”

I nodded, that was pretty handy to know.

“But just a word of warning, Adam’s a household name down there. His boys like to pretend that they’re guardsmen keeping things in order. People swallow that line without question – they’re willing to let him off as long as they think he represents them.”

I couldn’t just go in and start punching then. I’d managed to get this far without having my face and name pinned up on every bounty board on the continent, which was a surprise to me considering that I decapitated Bell in front of multiple witnesses. They must have thought it wasn’t worth the effort to find me.

I was a ghost, I wanted to keep it that way. Adam and Vincent were hiding behind a wall of well-meaning civilians who felt that they helped protect the neighbourhood. Some rogues would go in and raise hell, but I didn’t need a mob of people chasing me down and pinning extra heat on my back. That meant it was time to dust off my old thieving skills.

First, I needed to confirm where the papers were. It would be extremely stupid of me to break into the house without knowing where they were being kept. If Adam’s house served as their HQ, it was likely that they kept their important stuff inside a safe. If they were cheap, they’d have bought an iron one that didn’t come with a combination lock. It would use a key, and they came with two – one spare in case you lost the other.

That was all hypothetical, but it did present several different angles of attack.

“I’ll do it then. Enlistment papers delivered…”

“No, no. No need to deliver them to me. Destroy them if you have to – just get them away from Adam and his gang.”

I clapped my hands together, “Alright. I’ll scrub any mention of you being in the Sull army. First step is getting close to Vincent so I can gather information.”

“Vincent? But he knows you’re training with me.”

I smirked, “Yeah, and he knows that you’re a prideful old goat, and that I’m a rogue looking to make a quick profit. If I walk up to him and ask to get in on the scam, he’s likely to accept in exchange for some proof of my worth.”

“I see…”

“Assuming you can get me into the next fight meet, I can promise to win the first few rounds of the contest if he bets on me. You feel like I can win that much?”

“Yes. A lot of the fighters in the opening rounds are people who wandered into the building and asked for a match. On any given meeting you’re likely to find drunkards and vagrants who’ve never fought in their life.”

It was all coming together in my head now, “I’ll need to make myself look like the biggest bum possible then, so the odds are good. I win those matches, pay off the debt, and show him that I’m worth keeping around. From then on I can start prying for information from him.”

William sighed and rubbed his fur covered brow, “Do you do this often?”

“Dealing with blackmail? That’s bread and butter stuff for a good rogue. I need to get Vincent into a tavern, there’s nothing someone won’t spill if you get them drunk enough.”

It was a little more complicated than I was letting on, but I was sparing him the long-winded explanations about the various psychological tricks I used to get info out of people. The point was that low-down criminals had plenty of weak points that you could exploit, and I knew most of them.

All I needed now was my in, “Is Vincent usually down on Well’s Street?”

“Yes.”

“And when’s the next fight meet?”

“Tomorrow, come find me when the sun gets out of sight. I’ll bring you there.”

I stood back up from the (very comfortable) chair and headed to the front door, “Thanks for the pointers William. I’ll get those documents back for you.”

“Thank you!”

He didn’t need to thank me, he was paying for it.