I had another night where I struggled to sleep—only this time it was because I was too excited for what Billy could show me. Even my nightly routine of breaking bones and healing them wasn't enough to drain off my restless energy. The positive was that I was busy in the workshop so the opportunities I had to fantasise about fighting Billy were restricted to my lunch break.

The group was still being a bit weird with me because of everything that had happened but it wasn't as intense as the day before and I was able to get through the day without feeling too much like a tourist attraction for the rest of the prisoners.

I knew that people would keep growing bored of the whole thing. Even if people had died, this was a prison. That sort of thing happened often, and doubtlessly would happen again. Not to say I thought there wouldn't be further consequences. It would have been naive of me to think that Amir, Roach, and Pete didn't have other acquaintances that might cause trouble for me but at least it wouldn't be the whole prison eyeing me like a bug.

Thinking of who might come for vengeance on their behalf made me think about who would do it for me. In the past, I knew that Dillon and Morgana would have my back if something went wrong. It was the sort of belief that saw me through some of our more dangerous capers. With me locked up, I couldn't rely on their support any more and the friend group I'd found myself in wasn't the sort to defend me in a violent confrontation.

I didn't blame Tom and the crew for that because they just weren't those sort of people and I knew that. It was tough to admit to myself but there was no point denying what I knew to be true. Not that I was entirely alone any more—Mistress Maggie and Billy had proven otherwise. There were people willing to back me up when push came to shove. And after training with Billy, I hoped that when the time finally came, I'd be able to handle things myself.

With renewed resolve, I pushed my excitement to the side and focused on finishing the shift strong. Celine hadn't approached me with any special projects yet, but I was determined to earn my way onto them. That meant keeping my head down and working hard.

By the time the shift ended, I had once again broken my personal best. Today's task had been assembling a series of crates destined for businesses to store various goods. They were designed in a way that they could hold almost anything but the work was straightforward enough—mainly fitting together pre-cut pieces. The only issue was the sheer size of the crates, which posed a bit of a challenge. Still, by the end of the day, I was turning out four an hour, much to Handsy's delight.

"Excellent output today Warlock," he commented as he logged the leftover resources I was returning. "If I'm looking at this right, you're finally making three of these an hour?"

"I got four in the final one," I replied, puffing my chest out in pride.

"Not bad at all. We'll make a crafter of you yet! Assuming you don't get kicked out for fighting, anyway," he added with a wink.

"No more of that from me, Handsy. I'm focused on the work."

He gave me a look that said he didn't quite believe me. "Well, best of luck to you. Oh—and before you go, the Boss left instructions. You're joining the team on desk four tomorrow."

My eyes lit up. Desk four was working on a bespoke carriage for some rich guy. I'd seen them putting bits together recently but a lot of the work was being done outside. It was exciting to work on because there were materials I'd never picked up before, as well as crazy looking tools I'd not heard of. The chance to join in on that project was a big part of why I had been trying so hard today and I left the workshop with a huge smile on my face.

I didn't bother trying to meet Tom and the gang because I knew I would be ditching them to go see Billy anyway. Instead, I chose the quickest meal I could get and proceeded to force it down my gullet like I was a bird swallowing a whole fish. It probably wasn't the healthiest way to eat but it meant that I was ready quickly.

My nerves ramped up as I made my way over to the kitchen counter ready to return my tray. I knew it wasn't likely but a part of me suddenly worried that this was an elaborate prank by Billy to both embarrass me in front of the whole canteen, and to earn me the ire of the kitchen staff.

The nerves must have been clear on my face because the kitchen porter eyed me wearily as I approached. Looking me up and down, he put down the tray he was wiping and braced his hands on the counter, waiting for me to do something.

"Hey," I said lamely. "Erm, I'm looking to meet Billy? He said to come to someone after third meal?"

The porter squinted his eyes at me, once again looking me up and down before he pointed a thumb to the end of the row where a door to the kitchen was.

"Yeah, he said you'd be coming through. Doors over there. Try to look less shifty though. You look like you're about to try and rob the place."

I blew out a relieved breath. "Sorry," I laughed. "I've just seen you guys do some damage to people before and I didn't want to get on your bad side. Don't want to mess with the people who provide the food and all that."

"I don't care," he said dismissively, resuming his work.

I was a bit taken back but there were people coming up behind me so I didn't try to say anything else, choosing to head towards the door before I could say something stupid. Trying not to look shifty, I pushed the door open with feigned confidence and walked into the heat of the kitchen. There were people running about everywhere carrying pots and pans back forth from various workstations and I worried I was going to mess up the rhythm of the place. Luckily, someone saw me before I could choose a person to interrupt.

"Oi kid!" Came a shout from a stern looking tattooed man.

I looked over and pointed a thumb towards my chest.

"Yes you. Obviously you. You're Billy's right?"

I didn't quite agree with that terminology but didn't see any reason to quibble over it.

"Yeah," I shouted back.

He pointed towards a door on the far side of the kitchen, partially hidden by some stacked crates.

"He's in there. Don't fucking touch anything when you walk through." Suddenly he had a huge knife in his hand and I felt the obligation to vigorously nod my ascent.

"Get a move on then," he said with a shake of his head.

Traversing the busy kitchen was an exercise in fluidity that would rival anything I'd encountered before. I was used to busy crowds and the skill needed to move through them whilst picking pockets and avoiding capture but this was something else. Everyone worked like such a well oiled machine, I was starting to question whether they were in fact prisoners and not hired professionals.

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Dodging past hot pans, trays of food, and teetering stacks of plates, I made my way through the door the man had indicated. What awaited me inside was a store room, stacked full of goodies. Sacks of flour, crates of vegetables, hanging herbs, and barrels of things I couldn't even name. My fingers twitched with the old urge as I eyed the unsecured produce, a particularly plump tomato practically calling my name.

"Back 'ere, Brandon," Billy's voice rang out, just as my hand started to move.

I didn't think he could actually see me because of all the shelves in the way but I didn't see the point in testing my luck. I shoved my hands in my pockets to help resist temptation and made my way over to him.

"Come on," he said as I got close, exiting through a door at the back of the room.

Inside was a low-ceilinged, dingy brick room that felt more like a forgotten cellar than part of an active kitchen. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, old wood, and something faintly metallic that reminded me of rust or aged tools. A single, scarred table stood at the back of the room, its surface mottled with dark stains and knife marks, as if it had weathered a thousand tasks no one had cared enough to clean up after. The walls were lined with low shelves packed with all sorts of odds and ends: old jars with faded labels, battered crates, and what might have once been cleaning supplies long since repurposed. A single lamp was hanging from the middle of the room, casting a weak glow as the flame flickered.

"Ominous," I commented as I stepped within.

Billy let out a booming laugh.

"You're not wrong. It's where we do the butchin'," he told me, pointing towards the table.

I didn't ask what they butchered in here. The risk of hearing something other than animals wasn't one I was willing to take. Just the thought that human meat might've crossed paths with anything I'd eaten turned my stomach. I kept my face neutral and my curiosity buried. Some questions weren't worth the answers.

"I don't suppose you've got any more lights?" I asked as I looked around. Although I could easily fight in the dark, I didn't think it would be as conducive to learning as fighting in the light would be. The challenge it would pose would be best attempted when we'd got the measure of each other's abilities. To start off with, I wanted to be able to see everything Billy did so I could consume it all.

"Scared of the dark, are ya?" He asked, a sinister smile on his face. To be transparent it could have been a perfectly friendly smile but the environment didn't lend itself to positive interpretation. This grim little butchery chamber, surrounded by stone and shadow was way too foreboding for that. If Billy hadn't already proved he would kill for me, I might have had a lot more anxiety about the situation.

"I just don't think it would be fair if you couldn't see my fist before it smashes you in the face. Beating up an old man is going to be bad enough for my reputation without adding in allegations of cheap shots," I joked back.

"Oh, 'old man' am I now? We'll see if you're still singin' that tune once we get started," he shot back as he walked around the room lighting more lamps. "Better?"

"Much. Now I can see that pretty face before I bruise it up."

"You're cocky today, aren't you? 'ad a few scraps and now you fancy yourself, right? I was gonna go easy on you but with that 'ealing, maybe I'll put in a bit of effort."

Now his smile was sinister.

Still, it wasn't enough to put me off. Adrenaline had already begun pumping through my body and the thrill of the fight was building. This was what it was about. Pushing myself against a single opponent so I could see how I stacked up.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" I asked, getting into a stance.

"'old on their 'otshot, strip down first. We don' want our uniforms getting torn."

He took off his shirt first, revealing a muscular body a man of his age shouldn't have. It wasn't the most toned I'd ever seen but you could tell he was powerful. Not wanting to be shown up, I threw my own shirt into a corner.

"Right, rules. Stay in the middle of the room so we don' break anythin'. We shouldn' be interrupted but try not to make too much noise. Oh, and make sure you 'eal whatever damage I do to ya." The final sentence he said with another wide grin but I wasn't intimidated.

Once again I squared my stance, only this time, Billy mirrored me.

"On your count," I said, causing him to smirk.

I was confident in my speed. It was something I'd drilled over and over on the training dummies, chaining explosive starts from a standstill. That practice had taught me a key lesson: the best way to predict a fighter's movement was to watch their feet. So I dropped my gaze, waiting for the subtle shift that would signal Billy's first move. I brought my eyes back up… only to have my vision filled with a fist.

The next thing I knew, I was on the floor, dazed, with Billy standing over me, splashing water on my face.

"There you are. Sorry lad, did I overdo it there?"

I blinked the stars out of my eyes as I tried to recall how I ended up on the ground. There was a small throbbing pain in my temple but I could feel my power working and it lessened with each moment.

"How—What?" I groaned as I realised he'd knocked me out in a single attack.

"You alright?" He asked with a little more concern in his voice.

I waved him off. "Yeah, I'll be okay in a moment. How did you do that though? You covered so much ground in a glance."

He offered me one of his massive hands and pulled me to my feet.

"You thought I was slow because I was big, didn't you?" He chuckled. "Lesson number one: don't underestimate your opponent."

I rolled my eyes. "Obviously. You moved way too quickly though. Wait… do you… do you have a power?" I asked, hesitantly.

"Nah, I'm not so blessed. Mine just comes from 'ard work and natural born skill," he punctuated his statement with a flex of his biceps.

"Alright, I'm ready, let's go again."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," I nodded, once again settling into a ready stance.

"You can 'ave the first 'it this time. Let me see what you've got."

I didn't wait for a further invitation, choosing to attack instantly. I threw a quick left jab followed by a strong right, hoping to now use my speed to land some damage.

Neither hit.

Billy slipped out of range like a dancer, fluid and controlled, tapping me on the side of the face as he moved past.

"You'll need to do better than that," he teased.

Recognising that I was getting flustered, I grounded myself and took a step back. He was fast, he was strong, and he had the experience. It was never going to be easy—even if it was just a spar—but that didn't mean I should be stupid. He was still giving me the initiative, so I pressed forward again with a jab. This time, I expected the dodge and followed up with a low kick, catching him clean on the thigh.

"Yes!" I blurted out, pleased that I could actually touch him. I knew I was speaking too soon though and backed away as one of his fists glanced off my guard. Even a blocked hit from this mountain of a man was felt though and after getting a bit of distance, I shook my arms to shake the pain away. "Ow."

"Good, you're not a total chump," he told me, pulling his hands up. "That kick wasn't bad, but show me what else you've got."

I nodded, feeling more confident in myself now that I had actually landed a hit, and blocked one of his.

Launching forward with speed, I leapt into a flying knee expecting to be blocked. When it came, I pivoted my momentum to an elbow drop on Billy's head. He was quick enough to push me off course and I scrambled to get out the way of a return blow. Not looking to continue the stop-start nature of the spar so far, I continued the pressure trying to only throw hits that could turn into another move if he blocked or dodged.

It was a few more exchanges before I landed another good attack. This time I'd managed to hit him with a punch after faking a kick. It was a sweet connection to his chin that I thought would have done some actual damage. This caused me to panic a little because it was meant to be a friendly bout and leaving damage on him could lead to awkward questions.

"Shit, sorry Billy. I got carried away because you're so hard to catch."

Billy rubbed his jaw a moment and then nodded to himself. "It'll take more than that to put me down lad, don't worry. You're not bad though. I can see why you've managed in the fights you've 'ad. You all good on magic?"

Hesitantly, I nodded. That question felt very much like a trap and left me with a feeling that I was about to be punished for my punch.

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