Cold wind bit into Leo's cheeks as he stood before the rusted iron gates of the sanctuary. Heavy boots scraped against the gravel behind him, breaking the eerie morning quiet. Maya adjusted her grip on her recurve bow, her knuckles turning a stark, bloodless white. "They're early," she whispered, her breath blooming like a small cloud in the frigid air. Leo didn't answer. He gripped the worn leather handle of his cosmic rod, the cool metal a grounding weight against his thigh. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, ready to snap at the slightest provocation. Memories of the first dungeon break—the screams of his adoptive family, the smell of burning flesh—flashed behind his eyelids. A solemn vow kept him anchored: he would never let anyone under his protection suffer like that again. Now, a new kind of predator was knocking at his door. "Are you sure we shouldn't just lock the gates?" Maya asked, her voice dropping to a tense whisper. "We have the defense turrets you fished up last week. We could end this before it starts." "No," Leo replied softly, his jaw tightening. "If we fire first, we prove we're just another gang of warlords. We must show them we are a civilized haven." "Civilized people don't survive in this world, Leo," she warned, her eyes darting to the fog. "We have to try," he insisted. Rust groaned as the massive gates swung outward, revealing the barren wasteland beyond. Three figures emerged from the gray, swirling fog that choked the ruins of the old world. Walking in the center was a man who looked entirely out of place in the apocalypse. Dressed in a pristine, charcoal-gray suit that defied the grime of the ruins, he walked with an easy, terrifying confidence. This was Vance. Rumors of the Sovereign Coalition's chief executioner had reached the sanctuary weeks ago. Frightened refugees whispered of a man who smiled while he burned down entire settlements. Behind him walked two hulking guards, their heavy armor thick with dried monster blood and reinforced with steel plates. Vance stopped ten paces away, his polished leather shoes clicking sharply on the cracked asphalt. Dark eyes, devoid of any warmth, scanned the sanctuary's defensive walls before settling on Leo. "So, this is the miracle fisher," Vance said, his voice smooth, like oil poured over broken glass. "State your business," Leo said, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous register. His jaw clamped shut so tightly his teeth ground together, a sharp pain radiating up his temples. "Business is exactly why we are here," Vance replied, flashing a smile that didn't reach his cold eyes. "Shall we take this inside, or do you prefer to negotiate your future in the dirt?" --- Leo led the way, his back stiff as he remained hyper-aware of the boots clicking behind him. Sanctuary residents peeked out from behind makeshift wooden barriers and half-ruined brick buildings. Fear hung heavy in the air, thick enough to taste. Children scurried into the shadows, their eyes wide and round as they watched the Coalition guards pass. Old women huddled together near the community soup kitchen, clutching their bowls as if they might be snatched away. A painful squeeze tightened Leo's chest at the sight. These people had finally found a home, a place where they didn't have to fight every second just to breathe. He had fished up the very stats that reinforced these walls and nourished their soil. Building this haven had cost him his own sweat, blood, and tears. Every fish he reeled from the glowing, system-infused waters brought them one step closer to rebuilding humanity. If he let the Coalition take that away, everything he had fought for would crumble. Vance looked around with an expression of mild amusement, as if touring a failing museum. "Charming," Vance murmured, flicking a speck of dust off his tailored lapel. "You've built quite a little ant farm here, Leo. It's almost cute." "Keep moving," Maya growled, her hand never straying far from her quiver. "Hostility is such a common trait among the unrefined," Vance sighed, though his eyes gleamed with sadistic delight. Leo ignored the bait, keeping his eyes locked on the path ahead. They reached the concrete administrative building, a former municipal office now serving as the sanctuary's heart. --- Metal legs scraped against the concrete floor as they sat around the heavy iron negotiation table. Leo sat on one side, flanked by Maya and two of his most trusted guards. Opposite them, Vance sat with his hands neatly folded, looking more like a corporate executive than a mass murderer. Dust motes drifted through the pale light filtering through the cracked window. "Your sanctuary is impressive, Leo," Vance began, leaning back and crossing his legs. "To carve out a safe zone in this rotting world without swearing fealty to the Coalition is... ambitious." "We don't need your Coalition," Maya spat, her hand resting on the hilt of her hunting knife. Vance didn't even look at her. His eyes remained locked on Leo, analyzing every twitch of his facial muscles, searching for weakness. "You think you don't," Vance murmured, a faint, mocking smirk playing on his lips. "But the wild is full of beasts, and the Coalition controls the borders. Our forces keep the truly monstrous things away from your little garden." "For a price," Leo said, his chest tightening as he forced his voice to remain steady. "Naturally," Vance said. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a rolled piece of parchment, bound with a thick, crimson wax seal. Sliding it across the cold iron table, he let it rest right in front of Leo's hands. "A simple protection treaty," Vance explained. "Our organization will guarantee the safety of your sanctuary. In exchange, we require a small tithe." Leo unrolled the parchment. Black ink spelled out terms that made his blood run cold. "Eighty percent," Leo whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and growing rage. "You demand eighty percent of everything we harvest from the waters," Leo clarified, his grip on the parchment tightening until the edges crumpled. "That is not a tithe. That is slavery." "A massive eighty percent keeps our armies fed and our hunters strong," Vance replied smoothly. "We are fighting a war to reclaim the planet, Leo. You should be honored to contribute to the greater good." "Honored to watch my people starve?" Leo retorted, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the edge of the table. "Without those shards, we cannot upgrade our barriers. We cannot protect our fields." "Then you will rely on our soldiers," Vance countered, his voice dripping with icy certainty. "Of course, our protection is only guaranteed as long as you remain useful." Vance shrugged, a casual gesture that made Leo's temples throb with heat. "Call it what you wish," the executioner said. "We call it the cost of survival. Without our protection, this place will be flattened within a month." "My people rely on those shards to defend themselves," Leo growled, standing up slowly. "You want to strip them of their defenses and leave them at your mercy." "They are safe under our banner," Vance insisted, his tone dripping with false benevolence. "Our boots will keep them safe," Maya corrected, her voice sharp as glass. Vance finally glanced at her, his eyes darkening to a predatory pitch. "Quiet, little bird," he whispered, a dangerous edge slicing through his smooth demeanor. "Grown-ups are speaking." Leo's vision swam with a sudden, violent heat. Unable to contain the boiling fury inside him, he brought his fist down onto the iron table. A deafening CRACK echoed through the room. Massive iron buckled under his enhanced strength. Deep and jagged, a dent deformed the center of the table, dust erupting from the seams. "Get out," Leo snarled, his voice vibrating with a primal power that made the glass windows rattle. "Tell your Coalition that we will not yield a single shard. If you want our strength, you will have to take it by force." Maya stepped up, her bow half-drawn, her eyes burning with defiance. Vance didn't flinch. Slowly, he looked down at the ruined metal table, then back up at Leo. Mockery danced in Vance's eyes as a slow, terrifying smile stretched across his face, revealing teeth that were too straight, too white. "You have a lot of heart, Leo," Vance whispered, leaning over the dented iron. "It's a pity that heart makes you so incredibly blind." --- Chills ran down Leo's spine as Vance's words hung in the dusty air. "What is that supposed to mean?" Leo demanded, his fingers twitching near his weapon. Vance leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a breathy murmur meant only for Leo's ears. "You think you've built a fortress," Vance whispered, his breath smelling faintly of copper and mint. "Believing every soul inside these walls is loyal is your greatest mistake." "But hunger is a powerful motivator, Leo. So is fear." "We don't need to break down your gates." "Our eyes are already inside. Our ears are already listening." Vance chuckled, a dry, rattling sound that made Leo's stomach churn. "An insider is already pulling your threads," Vance breathed. Leo's heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped beast. Fury clashed with a cold, paralyzing dread that seeped into his bones. Who? Was it one of the refugees he had saved from the river? Could it be one of his trusted guards? He looked at Maya, but forced himself to look away, terrified that even a glance would betray his rising suspicion. "You're trying to divide us," Leo spat, trying to keep his voice from shaking. "You want us to tear ourselves apart from the inside so you can just walk in and take what's left." "A clever theory," Vance said, his smile widening. "But you and I both know that humans are fragile, greedy creatures. All it takes is a little pressure, and the strongest bonds snap." "Get out," Leo repeated, his voice low and dangerous. "Believe what helps you sleep at night," Vance said, straightening up and brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. "But remember, the clock is ticking." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small, ornate glass object. Placing it gently on the dented iron table, he slid it forward. "I'll leave you with a small reminder of our generous offer," Vance said, turning on his heel. "You have until the glass empties to sign the treaty." "After that, the Coalition will reclaim this territory, starting from the inside out." His guards fell in behind him, their heavy steps echoing down the concrete corridor as they departed. --- Silence descended on the room like a suffocating weight. Leo stared at the object left on the table. Maya stepped closer, her eyes wide with horror as she looked at the glass. "Leo... look at it," she whispered, her voice trembling. It was a delicate hourglass, blown from clear glass and framed in dark, twisted iron. Inside, there was no sand. Thick, crimson liquid filled the bottom bulb. Fresh human blood swirled within the glass chamber. Slowly, against every law of nature, a single drop detached from the pool at the bottom. It drifted upward. Another drop followed, defying gravity as it rose toward the empty upper bulb, painting the glass in a sickening, reverse countdown.

Chapter 37: A Contract in Blood