"Kidnapping?"
Rowan rcer had been drifting through the night sky, half-expecting to stumble across a cultist or two.
Instead, he saw sothing far more mundane.
And no less ugly.
In a narrow, poorly lit alley below, a thickset man in a leather coat clamped a hand over a young girl’s mouth and dragged her toward a waiting carriage.
Rowan sighed.
"Fine. I’ll play hero tonight."
Beckland, especially the poorer districts, swallowed cris like this every day.
If Rowan tried to stop them all, he’d never sleep again.
Normally, he wouldn’t intervene.
Tonight, though, he was in a good mood.
A spark of fla flickered.
Rowan vanished.
Inside the carriage, the man slapped the girl twice.
"Don’t scream. Don’t fight. Or I cut your throat."
He pressed a dagger against her skin.
The girl froze, clutching her stinging cheek, tears streaming down her face.
She was the daughter of a laundry worker.
By day she scrubbed clothes beside her mother.
By night she attended a free church school, slowly learning how to read and write.
She had dread of escaping this life.
She hadn’t even made it ho.
"P-Please... I have money..." she whispered.
Her shaking hands produced four copper coins.
Every coin she owned.
Savings ant for a notebook so she could take class notes.
The man sneered.
"If it weren’t for orders, I’d enjoy you right here. Money’s worthless. Your body’s what sells."
His hand reached toward her.
Then stopped.
A small fla ignited beside the girl.
An infant appeared.
The man t Rowan’s eyes.
Terror crushed his chest.
"An awakened—!"
The warning died in his throat.
His body stiffened.
His mind went blank.
He beca a puppet.
Unaware that the driver outside had already suffered the sa fate.
Rowan glanced at him.
"A street thug who knows about awakened beings? Interesting."
He placed a finger on the man’s forehead.
mories poured in.
Nas.
Routes.
Warehouses.
Clients.
Rowan’s expression darkened.
"So that’s how it works."
Kapin.
A famous Beckland tycoon on the surface.
The largest human trafficker in the city beneath it.
And behind Kapin stood three enforcers.
Parker.
Katie.
Heras.
All awakened.
All part of the sa judicial-based mystical tradition.
Heras was the strongest. Roughly mid-tier.
The pieces fit too well.
That tradition was tightly controlled by the royal family, the military, and old noble houses.
Ordinary people couldn’t access it.
Three practitioners appearing together, backed by political protection, ant only one thing.
Soone high up was shielding them.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
This wasn’t just a kidnapping.
It was an industrial operation.
And that made it valuable.
Very valuable.
If he dug deep enough, the information alone could be exchanged with the Night Church for major rewards.
Rowan turned to the girl.
She was shaking so badly she could barely stand.
"These are your compensation," Rowan said.
He flicked his fingers.
Gold coins spilled from both kidnappers’ pockets and landed in her hands.
Before she could speak, warm fire wrapped around her body.
The world blurred.
She reappeared on the street where she had been taken.
Safe.
Alone.
Holding a heavy stack of bills.
She stared.
"Twenty... pounds?"
Her knees nearly gave out.
That amount of money could lift her entire family out of starvation.
Not into luxury.
But into stability.
Into breathing room.
So people were born standing on mountains.
So were born at the bottom of pits.
Tonight, a small rope had been lowered.
And sowhere above the rooftops, Rowan rcer drifted onward, already thinking about how deep this trafficking ring truly went.
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