Kingdom Come [Yona of the Dawn]

An Expensive Pride

-

"I don't wanna. Stick to short-term contracts."

    By the way the brunet man waved her off, his posture and demeanor really did explain why she was stuck in the situation now. She could talk all she want. He wasn't listening to her. "Don't be so reserved. Name your price. I'll add however much I need too. Double, triple... I'll even multiply by five if that's what you desire."

    Miok popped her knuckles impatiently at her sides. "Sorry. Find someone else."

    Juming was... well, he requested for her often, but it made her uneasy. Sometimes the assassinations felt pointless, so she denied taking them, but he still offered her large sums and remained a loyal client. Asking her to be his personal arm had become more frequent lately, and it grate her nerves like crazy.

    "Miok-chan," and she cringed at the overly familiar suffix, "This isn't just because of your skill set as an assassin. But your voice is such a curious thing, and I wish to research it. Don't you wish to learn more about it to? Don't you lie wondering if you have truly used your powers to the fullest or if there's more you can achieve? Something so powerful that— forget assassination— your name will be heralded by all of Kouka? Even,"

    "You lost a screw or something?" interrupted the girl sharply, resisting slamming her fists on the long table before her. The room, murky and dark with smoke and dim in the dying evening light, hid her irritated eyes. "No offense to you, but you aren't the sort I'd kill for. Your targets don't always make sense; sometimes they seem more like indiscriminate killings. I refuse to give up my powers and our pride for your study."

    Her client lounged at the end calmly, breathing out that cursed smoke crowding up her vision and stinging her nose. "They aren't indiscriminate. They're carefully chosen to elicit a different reaction out of your powers. They're sacrifices for knowledge. You'll be a historic figure, Miok-chan."

    "You mean you will, crackpot," she corrected, "As I thought, they are pointless targets. Don't make light of our trade."

    Juming laughed curls of vapor. "No more 'Juming-san'?"

    "That's reserved for people I consider as clients or potential clients," bit Miok, chains rattling coldly as she turned on her heels, "I don't work for loonies."

    Attendants staggered out of her way as she marched for the exit (the footsteps might've sounded angry and heavy, had she not fallen into the habit of treading silently). She pulled back the dark curtain—

    A long blade jumped off her chained arm she used to guard, barely missing her wrist as she fended off the weapon. Retreating back a few steps, the girl sent a look that, if she had eyes like Shin-ah, would've buried Juming six feet under. "What's this for?"