I woke up to darkness, with a throbbing headache and a violated sense of balance. Also, every single part of my body ached.

I groaned heavily and groggily felt out a hand to get a sense of my surroundings. From what I could surmise, I was in an enclosed cage of sorts. Odd, though; most cages didn't have fuzz everywhere you touched.

And then out of nowhere, the 'cage' lurched. I banged my head squarely on the roof and cried out. In addition to the throbbing headache, I had what I was pretty sure was the beginnings of a huge, stinging Kingdom Stone-shaped lump on my head, on top of the sore limbs and the quiet, angry, screaming, burning realization that no matter what happened from here on out, one thing was for sure.

I needed a freaking pay raise.

And then another, more panicky, equally loud and significantly scarier realization came to mind.

I was in the trunk of a car.

And then suddenly, I recalled everything that had happened prior to presumably being dumped in the trunk of a car. Getting dropped off at home, eating breakfast, psyching myself up, driving up to the Scarf headquarters, getting denied, metaphorically drowning my sorrows at the Roaring Dragon with food and a few shots of alcohol.

Spade putting me in a sleeper hold.

I wish I could say that I played it cool, knew that screaming was no use and to just 'enjoy' the ride until I got to the Scarf headquarters. But as I'm sure you're aware by now, I'm no goddamn action hero with 500 pound muscles, zen-like calm from years of meditating on top of a mountain, godlike reflexes and snappy one-liners.

So, yes, I panicked. I yelled out for help and banged on the trunk door with my fists and feet. All I had was a vain hope that someone somewhere would do an action hero thing, like totally punching out Spade in an epic battle of strength and wills, then opening the trunk door with some cheesy but reassuring one-liner. Maybe they'd say 'I'm Luke Skywalker and I'm here to rescue you!'

What I instead got was the screeching sound of braking tires on concrete. Then several tense moments where nothing happened. Then the trunk opened, with Spade's bored face staring down at me.

"You're making too much noise. Keep it down, or I'll keep you down until we get here."

I was cowed into silence while the trunk closed.

I was silent for the rest of the trip.

Man, I am so awesome.

When we finally got there, I was gently lifted from the trunk, and then had a blindfold slapped over my eyes while I was forcibly led by the hand. All I could hear was someone laughing at something (an oddly reptilian laugh at that), and the general noise of a lot of things being punched and kicked and stabbed to death. Also, I could surmise from several of the reactions that people were greeting Spade because he was popular and super good at what he did. But I knew that already.

After what felt like five or ten minutes, I was sat down on a chair, something cool and metal. Then my hands were placed behind my back and I felt an audible click as something hard and metal was forced on my wrists. Then the shuffling of a chair. Then hands searching me all over for something, and seemingly finding it. And then the blindfold came off.

It took my eyes a while to adjust to the sudden burst of orange light. I was in an open, empty and wooden room, presumably somewhere deep inside the Scarves headquarters. From what I could see, it had been repurposed for something; there were mats on the ground for something, as well as some punching bags, wooden and blunted weapons on the racks, target boards and posters in some obscure but distinctly Avalician script.

Spade was looking at me, with my recorder in hand. He had a vaguely quizzical expression on his face.

"This is your recorder, correct."

I rolled my eyes and nodded, not exactly sure what Mr. Assassin Man was getting at.

"And you haven't changed the tape since then."

"I was planning to, but what with being out of the house all day and having a grade-A asshole break into my house and kidnap me, I didn't exactly get a chance to change out the tape."

"And this tape has your interview with Lilac and Carol on it."

"For Avalice's sakes, who frigging cares?"

Silence.

"Yeah, it's on there. What's the point of this again?"

Spade nodded and pressed Play, fast-forwarding through the tape until he apparently found what he was looking for. In all, it took about fifteen minutes, which was impressive considering that we were talking about three and a half hours worth of audio to sift through, and I was pretty sure Spade had never listened to that tape before.

The recording crackled lightly as Carol's voice resounded. This was the part where Carol monologued about waiting for Annie Oakley for two weeks. She described the long wait in a halting, near-tears tone of voice, which subtly shifted from halting to bitter when she got to the part where Spade came back alone.

"...Anyway, he called us both ungrateful leeches who'd never amount to nothing, that he didn't help us all these years to get paid back like this. And I swear he was considering hurting me for a couple seconds, but then just stalked off."

The recording abruptly cut off as Spade pressed Pause. Then you could hear the light whir of the tapes as it rewinded.

I sat there like that as he replayed the tape numerous times. A constant, never-ending stream of the same sound effects. Click, whirrr, click. Click, whirrr, click. Click, whirrr, click.

And all the while, Spade had a vaguely miserable look on his face, the kind you had to look really hard to see on a person's face. He absentmindedly replayed the parts where the dynamic duo had nothing good to say about him. It felt as if he were in his own world, and this room and I were vague blips on the radar, barely registering on his subconscious. It felt creepy and uncomfortable, but also melancholic and sorrowful. I was afraid to say anything to break him out of his reverie, in part because it scared me to think of how he would react, and in part because I didn't know what to say at all.

After what felt like an eternity, the clicks and whirrrs stopped, and Spade spoke, his voice almost a murmur with how quiet it was.

"After all this time, they still blame me for Coral's death..."

He wasn't crying. I'm pretty sure all his tears dried up a long time ago. But the slow, resigned way he said that sentence, coupled with the ever so noticeable emphasis on 'still', carried so much emotion that it was hard to not feel something.

I blinked slowly as I realized what Spade's deal was. Once upon a time, he cared about these kids like an older sibling watches out for the younger siblings. But one day, everything went wrong, and the kids blamed him for it. And then they left. And several years later, after his name was mud to them, he still cared about them, in a weird, unexplainable sort of way.

Never in my life have I ever thought I would feel bad for the guy who knocked me out and brought me to a strange place against my will.

Several minutes later, Spade had left and then returned to the chair with a blank tape inside my recorder, and the interview tape labeled "Lilac/Carol". Don't ask me why the Scarves apparently have blank tapes lying around, I'm still tied to a chair here.

I wet my lips before I asked him something.

"So, uh, why are you helping me? Not that I'm complaining, but I'm pretty sure you're about to tell me some really messed up stuff, and I'm not sure I'm seeing where the benefit is for you."

Spade stared at me for a long moment. I wondered if I had pissed him off.

Instead, he drew in a breath and let it out slowly.

"Are you aware of the concept of a non-disclosure agreement?"

I nodded.

"Tell me what it is, then."

Curious, I obliged. "Uh, a non-disclosure agreement is basically a thing where once you sign it, you're forbidden to talk about sensitive information and internal affairs. You probably wouldn't want everyone knowing the trade secrets of a company, or spoiling the details of a project long before it comes out."

Spade nodded. "When you become a Red Scarf, you sign an unofficial non-disclosure agreement by default. The only difference is, in a regular business, when you leave, people won't generally leak your history to the general public. They'll only talk about your work history at best. In the Scarves, you're either a Scarf for life or you leave disgraced. The Scarves take care of their own, but once you're out, you're hardly under their protection. They'll willingly release your personal information and mission history to the authorities, and from there, what happens, happens.

"I value the Red Scarves because they were the only ones who took me in when I had no one. I would gladly die for them. But despite that, the secrets weigh on you. They become too heavy to carry. And as well liked as I am within the Scarves, I am alone when it comes to personal matters. There is not a single soul within these walls that I could trust with my personal grievances who wouldn't think me treasonous. I can hardly spill my guts to random civilians, you excluded, because they simply wouldn't understand. And the two people I know who are alive in this world would rather fight me than talk to me.

"I suppose the benefit then would be this. For once in my life, I want to tell someone a tiny bit of the truth. I have done many terrible things in my time as a Scarf. I have killed an untold number of people and created as many orphans. I don't regret that one bit. But Coral's death...I made a promise to Coral's sister that I would keep her safe, no matter what happened. I failed to keep my promise, and Carol wants nothing to do with me. And that is the one thing I regret in this world."

Spade leaned in close to stare into my face. The light had hit him thus that he looked like a sallow skeleton instead of a panda. I gulped.

"Everything I have told you so far is off the record. If you print a single word of this, no matter where you go, no matter where you hide, no matter what names you take, I will find you, and I will end you."

Ironically, if there was any heat behind these words, I would have been much more reassured. But as always, it was stated matter of fact, in a cold, calculating tone of voice. It didn't fail to make me shudder.

He leaned back in his chair.

"Now then." He laid his thumb over the Record button. "I owe you the truth."

Click.

Several seconds passed.

"It started a little over two years ago. Coral was resting up from a previous contract. She always had an unbelievable amount of endurance, considering how little regard she had for her own life. It was my responsibility to keep her from pushing so hard that she killed herself, and I only barely succeeded. Regardless, the intermediary came three days after we finished up our previous contract.

"It was a simple job, or so we thought. Someone had stole an important object and fled to the Outer Kingdoms, and we were tasked to retrieve the object and bring in the thief, if possible. If not for the absurd amount of money, I wouldn't have thought twice about it. But while Coral was coiled like a spring and raring to go, that amount of money nagged me for the longest time. Why pay so much for a simple search-and-retrieve job?

"We flew out to the Outer Kingdoms at dawn. We were told only that the thief was hiding out on an island nation called Nam Dinh. Now, before the Kingdom Vortex came into being, the Outer Kingdoms had a massive energy problem. The Kingdom Stone gave the Three Kingdoms more or less unlimited clean energy, but it had started to fade in recent years. But at least we had clean energy. The Outer Kingdoms were far from the reach of the Kingdom Stone, and so were unable to use the clean energy to their advantage.

"It took a toll on their economy and business, to say the least. The waters were polluted with chemicals, and the streets and buildings had a very distinct run-down look to them. But despite all that, the basics were still in play; gather information, figure out the best plan of action, then execute.

"But we didn't need to do a lot of looking. As it turned out, the thief was the de-facto leader of Nam Dinh, and he had gone insane. I'm told that a long time ago, he was a tireless scientist who wanted nothing more than to give the Outer Kingdoms a viable source of clean energy. But something had broke him, and he had turned into a dictator who had lost sight of his original goal. Instead, he was bent on blowing the Three Kingdoms to kingdom come, with the object he had stolen from them.

"That contract made up the longest two weeks of my life. Instead of a simple search-and-retrieve, the focus had shifted into stopping a megalomaniac dictator who had a legitimate weapon of mass destruction. We fought almost non-stop against him, with only a few hours of rest between each of us. And finally, we came up with a way to destroy the WMD and stop him once and for all.

'The WMD had a glaring weak spot; if you flew a plane through that spot and it blew up, it would shut down the WMD for good. The problem was, there was no way to do so without also killing yourself in the process. And the only planes we could find was on a building several thousand feet high. I volunteered to do it, since at the time, I had nothing to lose. But Coral wouldn't have it. She wanted to be the one to sacrifice herself. I remember the last things she said.

" 'Spade, you know damn well I'm the best person for this job. You've been on so many missions with me, and you're the only one who knows so much about me. So you know that I'm not normal. I can't turn off my killer instinct, and it's killing me. You're the best damn handler I've ever had; you know my limits, and you've always kept me from killing myself. If you die here and I survive, I'll just find something to keep fighting until I either kill myself or there's nothing left to fight. It's going to consume me so much, and I can't do that to my own sister, Spade. Let me do this, and no matter what happens, you better watch out for Lilac and Carol.'

"I protested, told her that she was a fool, that she still had a lot to live for, that I wouldn't let her sacrifice herself. She went silent, and then quietly admitted I was right, shortly before she apologized, shoved a parachute into my arms and kicked me off. I was too shocked to do anything but scramble to fire the chute, and by then, it was too late.

"Coral had flown a plane into the WMD. It self-destructed and fell into the ocean. She saved the world, in addition to me. And it only took her life to do it.

"I was a wreck after that contract, professionalism be damned. I flew back to Shang Tu, collected the contract money, and drove back to the Scarf headquarters. Lilac and Carol were waiting outside, anxious to hear the news. But how do you tell a kid that you broke your promise in the end?

"I couldn't do it. Carol and Lilac got angry at me, perhaps rightfully so. A lot of things were said that night that couldn't be taken back. I lost my temper. I was wrong to do so, but it was like I became a different person and I had little control over my actions. And after they left, I had became a different person. I threw myself into the Scarf lifestyle so that I wouldn't have to think about anything. But that damn contract ate at me every day.

"Against regulations, I asked questions about the job. I wish I hadn't. That would have made things simpler. But I got answers that I couldn't come to terms with.

"The Magister was the one who commissioned the work for the weapon of mass destruction. And he was the one who sent the contract to the Red Scarves."

The recorder clicked as Spade pressed Stop.

I sat there with my mouth open.

Holy shit. That was messed up.

We sat there in silence for several minutes before the door burst open. A small red panda with crimson red royal clothes, a goofy hat and avaricious money-green eyes barged in, flanked by two featureless armored turtle guards who were carrying a large red chest between each other. The red panda was immediately familiar to me, and he was clearly pissed about something.

"What the hell, Spade?!"

Spade had rose from his chair. It was like he didn't just drop a huge bomb that screwed with everything I had known about Shang Tu. Instead, he had a false smile on his face.

"Good evening to you too, Zao."

Vitriol spilled from the mayor's mouth. "It's MAYOR Zao to you, you fricking half-blood bastard, and don't change the subject on me. What. The. Hell?!"

"I suspect you'll have to walk me through it."

The mayor growled out loud.

"Oh! You want to be walked through it. Like a nice, relaxing walk in the ARE YOU STUPID OR SOMETHING?! Did you not call me at four in the morning to ask me to smuggle in contraband from the Outer Kingdoms? Didn't you?!"

"I have a vague recollection of that phone call, yes."

I unwisely decided to interject. "Uh, should I even be-"

Zao stomped the ground and pointed at me. "Shut up! This doesn't concern you at all!"

His attention refocused instantly on Spade. "And did I not drop literally everything to fly out there because I owe Lord Spade a favor? Literally everything, dammit! I had a nice date with a smoking hot cougar who actually likes me for more than my money later tonight, and instead of dinner, I'm in the middle of frigging nowhere! Do you know how hard it is to find a woman that actually gives half a damn about me instead of my money?! I'd rather not have an heir by a crystal digger!"

Spade raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Fascinating. I didn't realize you had a love life with anything except your money."

Zao's eyes widened. I could swear the money green eyes had tinted a shade of red.

"Fascinating? Fascinating?! Screw you! I spent the last seventeen hours flying back and forth from Shang Mu to the Outer Kingdoms, throwing around thousands of my hard-earned crystals to make sure these assholes actually do something instead of lounging around doing nothing! And you can't even be assed to meet me personally! I had to yell at a whole bunch of people before anyone would even say where you were! Do you even know how hard it is to do this on the down low? I could lose my job for this, Spade!"

"A great loss, I'm sure," Spade said in an insincere tone of voice.

Zao threw his hands up and angrily pointed at him, using his finger to punctuate for emphasis.

"You know what? You better be paying me fat stacks of crystals or I swear on my mother, I will take a hammer to this piece of crap place and bring it all crumbling down on your head! You hear me?!"

Spade chuckled lightly and smiled.

"Show me the goods first, and then we can discuss compensation."

Zao gestured wildly to the guards. "Hey, assholes! Get over here!"

The guards looked at each other for a few seconds, then shrugged and resigned themselves to the task of lugging the chest over to Zao and Spade, then unlocking it. Several clicks later, the chest unraveled into several shelves that neatly displayed each piece, and had pockets on the sides to store things that I couldn't see from my chair. I let my mouth fall open as I realized what I was looking at.

Guns. Spade had just asked Mayor Zao to smuggle in guns. I had heard of such things from the Outer Kingdoms, but this was my first time seeing them up close. I broke out in a sweat; a half-remembered declaration several years ago came to mind. The Magister had expressly banned guns and blasters for sale, making it so that only law enforcement and security were allowed to carry blasters. This had extended into the other kingdoms of Shang Mu and Shuigang. Most of the people, politicians and general public alike, in Shang Tu, Shang Mu and Shuigang had no idea what a gun looked like.

Spade picked up a small gun and inspected it. It was a combined wood and metal affair, hardly impressive-looking on its own. It had a spike at the bottom and two arrow-like things sticking out upwards from the base of the gun.

Mayor Zao shook his head. "Seriously, Spade, I have no idea why you asked specifically for these...things. They're so small, and blasters already exist. Or you could just throw cards at people. Isn't that your thing?"

"Not reliable enough."

Spade ignored Zao after that statement. Instead, he gathered a lead ball, a marked powder pouch, a bottle of liquid and a piece of paper from the chest pockets, then took out the metal spike and idly worked on the gun. A tense minute passed where the only things you could hear were Zao's impatient foot-taps on the floor and the muted sounds of Spade prepping the gun. Finally, Spade made a satisfied noise, pulled back one of the arrow-like things—the hammer?-and pointed at the target board with one hand, then pulled the trigger slowly. It went off with a loud bang and a lot of smoke that startled both the mayor and I, and there was a small gaping hole right in the middle of the target board. Bulls-eye.

Zao was stammering. "Wh-wh-what the hell was that?!"

Spade blew the smoke from the barrel and grinned, saying nothing in all his smug glory.

Zao's mouth was gaping open while Spade carefully placed the gun back on the chest rack.

"It works like a charm. Loading time leaves a lot to be desired, but I'll have to distribute these out to the senior Scarves, make sure the apprentices are taught how to use a gun properly," he said, speaking mostly to himself.

He turned to Zao. "As for your compensation...I believe fifty million crystals will suffice for tonight. It'll be wired to your bank account as soon as possible."

And here I thought crime didn't pay. Damn you, grade school morality.

Zao blinked rapidly and nodded. His irises had disappeared; in their place were white circles with black outlines. "...yeah...sure…"

And then something akin to a light bulb went off over Zao's head. Coincidentally, his eyes had returned at about the same time.

He walked over to me. We were eye-level despite that I was tied to a chair. I was confident that I had at least two feet on Zao while standing.

"You there. What are you even doing here?"

"Uh..."

Spade shook his head at me. I ignored him.

"My name is Samuel Swift, and I'm a journalist for the-"

Zao's eyes widened. I could swear that his eyes were about to pop out of their sockets."Wait. What did you just say?"

Spade sighed and lightly smacked his hand against his head.

"Uh. I'm a journalist?" I smiled awkwardly.

Zao slowly, slowly turned to Spade, murder in his eyes.

"Are you telling me that this entire time, a journalist, a frigging journalist, has been in this room, sitting here, listening to us, and he saw this entire deal go down?"

Spade shrugged. "I would've introduced you to him, but you seemed a bit too worked up."

Zao laughed out loud for several seconds while Spade, the guards and I sat there impassively.

Then the laughter stopped. What then followed was the most impressive string of expletives I have ever heard a person scream out in my life. I cringed out loud at the volume and the fact at several points, he effortlessly transitioned from Avalician to a Shang Mu dialect that I had never heard before in my life. Spade just raised an eyebrow and seemed to be suppressing laughter, which was hilarious in retrospect.

A minute of this passed, and the mayor huffed and puffed before he launched into another tirade.

"Dammit, Spade! You know how much I hate journalists! They're all nasty, thieving assholes that aren't happy until they're finished digging into every single thing you've ever done! So what if I have money?! I came from nothing, a poor family, and everyone shat all over me for not having money! Now I have money and I'm not free to spend it as I wish in this damn world?! And you let me do a deal in front of a journalist?! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Because for some reason, I had a knack for opening my mouth at bad times, I decided to interject.

"Uh, I'm only a tabloid journ-"

"I DON'T CARE! All you damn journalists are all the damn same!"

Suddenly, I had a very good idea of why Barry moved out of Shang Mu.

Zao angrily paced around, making angry noises. Finally, he marched up to Spade.

"We have to waste him. I cannot risk any of this getting out. I need my damn job, Spade!"

Spade looked down at him and shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Spade walked over to the chest, looked around the bottom shelf and apparently found what he was looking for; yet another gun that didn't look very different from the one he was brandishing not long ago. Something about it struck me as false-looking, though I had no idea why. There was a piece of paper attached to it. Spade tore it off and crumpled the paper, then offered the gun to Zao.

"Use this one. All you have to do is point at him and pull the trigger."

Zao laughed derisively. "Me? Are you serious? Do I look like an idiot?"

His gaze shifted from Spade to the guards. "Hey, dumbasses! Whoever wastes this asshole gets a 5% pay raise!"

The guards once again traded uncomfortable looks between each other. One of them stepped forward, speaking in a slow, drawling and uncertain voice.

"I don't think this is a good idea, sir."

Zao's eye twitched.

"I didn't hire you so you could look pretty or 'think', you blithering moron! I hired you so you could follow orders. This is an order. Are you saying you're disobeying my orders?"

There was a long moment. "No, sir."

"Good! So what's the problem?"

"No problem, sir." I could swear he waited a half-second longer to append that honorific than he needed to.

Zao laughed joyously while Spade shrugged and handed the gun to the guard. That was unsettling.

Then they marched up to my chair. That was scary.

The guard pointed the gun at me. I was staring down the barrel.

Zao put his face up against mine. He was enjoying this too much for his own good.

"Any last words, punk?"

Panic took over, and I struggled against my bonds.

"Oh please, don't kill me! I have a family!"

Zao shrugged, having the audacity to look disappointed. "Whatever. Can we get this over with?"

I was fairly certain I was about to die here, to the frigging Mayor Zao of all people, because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

They say that just before you die, your life literally flashes before your eyes. I wasn't sure about that, but what did run through my head was a couple of things, most of them really stupid.

I would never be able to eat out at the Roaring Dragon again.

I would never be able to watch cheesy TV shows.

I had never gotten to try out bacon-flavored ale.

I'd never get to publish my article about Coral Tea.

Oh man.

The trigger clicked. I shut my eyes hard at the fatal moment, imagining a small piece of lead going through my head.

A loud, explosive BANG permeated my senses.

An agonizing second had passed. Then two. Then three.

I didn't feel any different from three seconds ago.

I experimentally decided to open one eye. That one worked. Then I opened the other.

I blinked twice as I realized that I was still alive.

Mayor Zao was flabbergasted, while the guard looked puzzled but relieved. He turned the gun to its side.

There was a red flag that said "BANG!" in explosive yellow comic-book text, its pole protruding from the barrel.

Spade had looked like he was trying to suppress laughter before. But now he was genuinely laughing. The sound was foreign to me. I didn't think Mr. Assassin Man was even capable of the simple act of laughter. It confused me greatly. And confusion turned to indignation.

Zao turned to him angrily, while the guard looked at Spade with a bemused expression.

"You stupid son of a BITCH! This isn't funny!"

Despite that he had just ordered my assassination literal seconds ago, I found myself vigorously agreeing with Mayor Zao.

Spade had gotten himself under control remarkably fast.

"My sincerest apologies, but I didn't see the point in taking him out."

Zao's voice had increased by about two pitches or so. "B-but-the dealllll! The everythiiiing!"

"Calm down, Zao. If he becomes a problem, I'll take care of him personally. But right now, he and I have an understanding."

I wisely decided to keep my mouth shut this time around. I wasn't comfortable with the casual way he mentioned 'taking care of me', but I valued my life much more than semantics right now.

"Arghwhatingasdsadgrrrr I'm getting the hell out of here! Screw you, Spade. I hope you die a fiery, painful, long, slow death."

"Good night to you too, Zao."

Zao balled up a fist, then thought better of it and stalked off in a rage. The guard who had just stayed behind to watch the 'spectacle' nodded to me and followed after Zao.

The guy holding the false gun spoke to me in that same slow, drawling voice.

"Sorry. The mayor is...impulsive. No hard feelings?"

"No hard feelings," I half-lied. In truth, I was feeling resentful, but only a little of it was directed at the guy who had pulled the trigger. He was just doing his job, after all.

The guard nodded and placed the gun on the floor, then left.

Spade walked over to my chair and unlocked my cuffs, then picked up the gun and stuffed it down one of his pockets. I groaned as the pressure was lifted off my wrists and the pain of having my arms stuck in the same position for hours on end kicked in. I rubbed my wrists vigorously, half-remembering that it was supposed to restore circulation.

"Apologies, but it had to play out this way so Zao would feel like he had power."

"Whatever, man. Why in the hell do you have a fake gun in that chest, of all the things you could've asked for?"

Spade put on a false smile. "It was a gift."

I rolled my eyes. "Last time I checked, a gift was like chocolates or a book, not a frigging real-looking gun. You got a real warped definition of a 'gift', you know?"

Spade ignored that comment. "You're free to go. I'll be giving you a ride back to your place."

"...lemme guess, you're going to blindfold me first and stuff me in the trunk."

"Yes, that's right."

I rolled my eyes so hard and sighed out loud at that statement.

"Also, I meant what I said before. If you become a problem, I know where you live. And as much as I think I like your pluck, make no mistake about it; I will end you. No hard feelings."

"Yeah. Thanks," I said with maybe a trace of vitriol. "This is making me feel so much better right now."

"It's just professional courtesy."

"I bet you say that to all the people you've literally ended before."

Spade shrugged. "Suit yourself. Just don't get yourself killed first."

I took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I had regained some feeling in my arms.

"Hey, Spade."

"Yes?"

I rose up slowly from the chair, turned to face him, and then punched the panda man square in the face.

My right fist exploded into a sensation of pain. I grimaced really hard. No one had ever told me that punching people in the face hurt so much.

Through the pain, I gritted out words.

"That's for knocking me out, trashing my place, stuffing me in a trunk, and almost getting me killed with that stupid stunt you pulled."

The asshole didn't even looked fazed by the punch. He drew in a breath.

"I suppose I deserved that. Though, if you're going to punch someone in the face without protecting your fists first, you want to aim for just above the jaw. Hurts less and does more damage."

He nodded to my fist. "Lay off it for a few, then put ice on it when you get home."

Then, Spade stuffed my recorder and interview tape down my pocket, and in another motion, slapped another blindfold over my eyes.

"By the way, we're even. Best of luck with the article."

Dick.