In the city of Wangward, a man dressed in rags leaned against a wall, his face hidden beneath a hood.
The dim light couldn't fully conceal the serpent tattoo stretching across his face. His right hand clutched a dagger under his cloak, fingers stiff from gripping it for too long. He stayed motionless, eyes locked on the bustling pub across the street, waiting for his targets to appear.
Several figures approached from behind, their footsteps barely making a sound. "My lord, should we go in?" one of them asked in a hushed voice. The man turned and shot him a glare. "Didn't I tell you to call me boss?" he snapped.
"S-sorry, boss! I'm still getting used to it," the man stammered. Albert Altross sneered. "Get used to it fast unless you want to end up captured with me."
He knew failure wasn't an option. The Serpent Fang wouldn't waste time on the weak. They had to prove themselves or be discarded like trash.
