Akamir walked inside only to find a muscular woman lying half-naked on the bed...
...along with some weak-looking men.
The bunker-like door closed behind him with a loud thud.
The woman lounged across a plush bed like a lioness basking in the sun after a feast.
Her skin was marked with scars and tattoos.
She raised her head lazily, short crimson hair sticking to her sweat-soaked brow.
The weak-looking men beside her flinched at the intrusion, some trying to cover themselves.
"Well, well," she purred. "If it isn't the little merchant come crawling back."
Her crimson eyes locked onto Akamir with interest.
"And who the hell are you?" Her voice was raspy, raw, and held the coarse confidence of someone used to violence.
"I don't recall ordering a masked boy."
Akamir didn't speak, he just stared at her without a word.
"I'm not here to crawl," Nerco said, his voice firm.
"You destroyed our goods. Attacked us twice. You've overstepped."
