Her eyes narrowed. "And? You here to arrest me? Collect a bounty? Because I should warn you, I'm not going quietly."

"If I wanted you arrested, I would've just pointed the guards in your direction. But I'm just curious."

I tilted my head slightly.

"That mark on your neck was a... slave brand, right?"

Her eyes widened, and she immediately clutched her cloak tighter around her neck, pulling the fabric up defensively.

"W-What are you talking about? It's nothing like that."

Just as I thought. She's a runaway slave.

I'd read from the books, that mentioned about slave marks. They glowed when a slave was separated beyond a certain distance from their master, a built-in tracking mechanism. The glow alerted the master and made it obvious to anyone nearby that the person was branded property.

Which meant she'd recently escaped. And she was desperate.

"I know exactly what that mark is," I said evenly. "I've seen them before. You can't hide it from me."

She took a few steps back, her body language shifting from defensive to something more dangerous.

"What do you want?" Her voice dropped lower, harder. "Money? Information? Whatever it is, I don't have it."

Then her expression crumbled.

"Please." Her voice broke, tears welling up in her green eyes. "Please don't tell anyone. They'll capture me, and they... they'll..." She covered her face with her hands, shoulders shaking with sobs. "I can't go back. I can't—"

I felt a flicker of sympathy.

Then my instincts screamed.

She lurched at me, the sobbing cutting off instantly, replaced by a feral growl.

"Die!"

But I was already moving.

Should've known better than to trust someone like her.

I stepped aside, her clawed hand passing inches from my throat. But I wasn't quite fast enough, her nails, now visibly longer and sharper, caught my cheek, carving a thin line across my skin.

Blood ran down warm and wet.

I raised an eyebrow. Beastkin.

She didn't give me time to recover and attacked again, a feline growl rumbling from her throat, her movements predatory and fast.

My hand moved to my hip instinctively, reaching for my sword—

But it was empty.

Fuck.

She was closing in fast. I grabbed an empty barrel from beside the alley wall and threw it at her, then rolled to the side.

She smashed through it with one clawed swipe, splinters exploding outward.

Then I pulled the knife from my boot and threw it in one smooth motion, already stepping back.

Though she deflected it with her forearm, the blade clattering harmlessly to the ground, and launched herself at me with frightening speed.

I hit the wall behind me.

She grinned, landing in a crouch between me and the only exit, her nails extending further into proper claws.

"Dead end, boy."

Not quite.

I activated my debug vision, scanning the environment rapidly.

[Target: Cobblestone Block - Position: Beneath Target]

[Gravity: Reduced]

She lunged forward—

And as her foot hit the edited cobblestone, she suddenly felt lighter, her trajectory shifting upward more than she'd intended.

Her eyes widened in confusion.

Taking in the chance, I performed a rolling kick, catching her mid-air, but right before the impact connected, I made another edit.

[Leg Mass: Standard —> Increased (3x)]

[Duration: 0.5 seconds]

The weight multiplied instantly. My kick connected with three times the force she'd been expecting, momentum and mass combining into a devastating impact.

She went flying, her body slamming into the opposite wall with a sickening crack.

She groaned, slumping to the ground.

But she recovered faster than I expected and was on her feet in seconds, shaking off the impact, and coming at me again.

We exchanged blows.

She was fast. Strong. Every movement precise and deadly.

I got scratches along my arms and shoulder. But I managed to land a few hits.

She's strong. And fast. Way more than I expected.

I activated my debug vision fully, focusing on her.

[Entity Analysis]

entity_id: "scarlet_fang"

race: "foxkin"

level: 27

combat_role: "high_mobility_meele_combatant"

threat_level: "high"

combat_stats: {

physical_strength: "high"

agility: "exceptional"

}

psychological_profile: {

mental_resilience: "low"

stress_tolerance: "poor"

}

Her mental resistance is weak.

I opened another edit window while dodging her next swipe.

[Target: Scarlet Fang]

[Effect: Perception Distortion - Subject perceives opponent as 50% larger and more threatening]

[Duration: 30 seconds]

I confirmed the edit.

Her next attack faltered mid-swing. She blinked, her eyes widening as she looked at me, and suddenly flinched backward like I'd grown three feet taller.

It worked.

I didn't waste the opening. I dove for my knife where it had fallen, snatched it up, and closed the distance before she could recover.

The blade pressed against her throat, cold steel against warm skin.

We froze.

Her breathing was ragged, eyes still wide with residual fear from the mental debuff. My own breathing wasn't much better, the fight had taken more out of me than I wanted to admit.

"If I wanted to hand you over or do something else," I said, my voice neutral and controlled, "I would've done it by now. So just stop resisting and listen."

She stared at me, the fear slowly fading as the debuff wore off.

"You're a runaway slave," I continued. "You know what that means?"

She flinched, her eyes dropping.

"Once they know who you are, if anyone finds out, you'll be hunted. Handed over to the authorities. And you know what they do to runaways, right?"

I watched her reaction carefully. The way her jaw tightened, the flash of genuine terror in her eyes.

"They don't just return you to your master," I said quietly. "They make an example. Public punishment. Magical bindings that make the slave mark look gentle."

Her whole body trembled.

"If you want..." I lowered the knife slightly, though I kept it ready. "I can help you with that."

She froze. Blinked. Looked up at me with confusion and desperate hope warring in her expression.

"What?"

I smiled behind my scarf, though she couldn't see it.

"But you have to do something for me too."

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