Zain and Velra quickly moved underground.
The narrow tunnel behind the market stall gave way to a dim corridor.
The first group they passed didn't even glance at them.
Down here, everyone looked dangerous. No one asked questions.
"They think we're just more villains," Zain muttered under his breath.
Velra didn't look at them. "Good. Keep walking."
They passed another corridor where two men were arguing over stolen gear.
A third man, half-drunk and bleeding from his shoulder, glared at Velra and raised his chin.
"New faces. You work for Kurn?"
Zain didn't slow down. "Does it look like we answer to Kurn?"
The man hesitated, then looked away. "Tch. Whatever."
Once they'd pushed past another hallway marked with red Xs, Zain leaned closer to Velra.
"Where are we headed?"
Velra jerked her chin forward.
"Below the scrap pit. There's a maintenance shaft that leads to an abandoned zone."
"It's dead space—no one bothers patrolling it."
