Keller circled Kaz, making sure to stay at a safe distance. "Mr. Brekker – you have certainly been a very troublesome man. Now that it is just you and me, I hope you'll be a bit more cooperative."

"Why don't you come a little closer so that we can find the answer to that question," Kaz sneered at Keller, wishing Keller would make a miscalculation that brought him within striking distance.

Keller temper flared again. "Gah, I am starting to regret ever starting this business! By now my clients will usually be cowering in a corner or begging for release, offering up whatever secrets they can to make the fear and pain stop, but you refuse to yield!" Keller paused, taking a deep breath. "I guess I should expect nothing less from the so-called bastard of the Barrel as you call yourself. How about we play one last round before bedtime?" Keller smirked, finding his equilibrium once more. "For every question of mine you fail to answer, you'll be dealt a punishment."

Kaz only scowled at Keller, knowing he would need to prepare for more pain if his own plan was to succeed.

Keller position himself in front of Kaz. "What is your name?"

"To you I am Dirtyhands, demon bastard of the Barrel" Kaz spat.

A punch to his side knocked Kaz off balance causing him to yerk in his chains, fresh rivulets of blood dripping from his wrists, but he quickly recovered.

"No, your real name," Keller huffed, annoyance growing.

"Kaz Brekker."

"Ah, and here I thought you were supposed to be a smart one. I mean your real name, not your Barrel name!".

"I have no other name," Kaz replied coldly, determined to not reveal any secrets to this psychopath.

"No? Mr. Gergel." Another punch to the side. This time Kaz was prepared, not letting it jar his balance, keeping himself upright.

Keller started walking in a small circle in front of him, irritation growing. "Something else then. How did you become Dirtyhands, as you are dubbed?"

"The Barrel made me," Kaz answered curtly.

"So born and bred in the barrel?"

"Yes." Technically it wasn't even a lie. Kaz Brekker, also known as Dirtyhands, had been born in the Barrel that night he lost Jordie. Kaz Rietveld had not, but he had died in the Barrel that very same night, and existed no more.

Keller sighed. "So I am guessing you have a boring standard back story, most likely involving loss of ones family and home, being forced to live and survive on the street, and fighting your way through the ranks. Nothing special there. But by the look of you, you probably weren't the biggest boy on the street, forcing you to use your wits rather than your brawn, as you so deftly proved in your morning fight. Classic origin story. Anything I missed?"

There were plenty of pieces Keller had missed, but Kaz wasn't going to enlighten him.

"Just as talkative as usual I see? Moving on, how did you become the lieutenant of Per Haskell and his Dregs? A scrawny kid like you don't normally make it that far," Keller queried.

Kaz had done it by doing all the dirty work no one else wanted. To survive he had been forced to do atrocious actions, forced to build up a persona on doing whatever it took, no matter how horrible. To survive ha had to lock away his heart, become callous and cold, ignoring whether the pain he inflicted on others was deserved or not. If someone needed killing, torturing, a beating or in general any kind of violence or job done, Kaz had accepted the mission and preformed it perfectly. He had not asked questions, and had not cared who they were or what was asked of him, he just followed whatever order Haskell gave him. He hadn't enjoyed it, and only done what was necessary to finish the job, never more, escaping to the shadows as soon as he could.

It had made him a perfect soldier, ensuing him protection from the bruisers and letting him rise quickly in the ranks. Another element that had cemented his rise was that he had never let anyone mock him without consequences. He made sure to get vengeance, and deal out bloody punishments for anyone who had the nerve to stand in his way, his reputation soon making sure that no one dared cross him. He had lost count of how many times he'd had to wash other people's blood off his gloves and clothes, but he had learned early on it beat washing off his own blood.

After he had become the leader of the Dregs, no longer under other people's thumb, he had changed the rules. They were only to hurt the ones that deserved it, and to only steal what people could afford to lose, or everything from people who deserved it. He was not Pekka Rollins, he didn't torture, murder and steal out of lust or need, he did it to build his empire. The Dregs protested at first, believing it would lead to their doom, but they soon learned it was good for business as it meant fewer enemies, and resulted in more coin as it brought more customers to their establishments. He was slowly becoming a business owner, not just Dirtyhands. He sometimes wondered if it was Inej who was responsible for his wish to change, to be something more then just righteous fury and vengance. But if people still told rumours or exaggerated his evil actions he let them, knowing it would make him less of a target and make his threats more dangerous when people both feared and respected him.

Keller rolled his eyes at Kaz. "Nothing? I'm starting to wonder if I got the wrong man. Again."

This time the blow didn't come as expected. He felt a sharp pain in his side as Gergel twisted and pushed Inej's knife, left by Turnboat, deeper into his side. He couldn't stop his face from scrunched up in pain, but he clenched his jaw shut to avoid screaming out, breathing through the waves of pain the wound sent through his system. He needed to make this end soon, or he wouldn't be able to keep himself standing much longer, his remaining strength leaking out of him along with his life blood.

"I'll try again, how did you take over the Dregs from Haskell?"

Working hard to control his breathing, he answered in a low tone. "He was weak, I wasn't", hatred filling his voice.

Keller threw out his arms in exasperation. "For heaven's sake! If this is to work, I am going to need a great deal more from you. These almost one-word sentence answers of yours are giving me little to no satisfaction. I want details, like how you took out Per Haskell and won the Dregs to your side, how you tricked the throne from Pekka Rollins and the take down of the rich man Van Eyck. Has it all been dumb luck, or is there an actual working brain in that stubborn head of yours? You must know by now that the pain will end once you start playing along with my game? I really don't care if must beat, torture, drug or cut you open to get the answers, I will have them, no matter what!"

Kaz didn't respond, only stared back defiantly.

Keller let his arms fall back down, head bowing in defeat. "But not tonight. I am tired, and this terrible place is filling my lungs with dust and mold. This environment is not conductive to my body or brains health. Some proper food and sleep in my mansion is sure to do me well, and will help me solve the conundrum that is you, Mr. Brekker. Be prepared for a long day of fun tomorrow, especially if you do not start collaborating. I do hope that brain of yours decides to switch on and have an epiphany during the night so that we can move our talks to the mansion. I promise you it will be much more pleasant than this old dump," Mr Keller offered.

Keller turned to the last remaining thug. "Mr. Gergel. Get rid of your dead friend there, and then guard the building. I'll send over a few extra men seeing as we seem to be running short. As for Mr. Brekker, don't release him. I think he'll enjoy spending some more time in his shackles. Ta ta, for now," Keller said with a small bow and lift of his hat. He turned on his heels and walked off with a wave, taking Kaz's cane with him and leaving Kaz alone with the last thug.

Kaz let out a breath, satisfied that his tactic of frustrating and wearing out Keller had worked. It was a dangerous game as the man had a short temper, and was likely to snap if pushed to far, but it had kept his secrets safe. He knew tomorrow would need a different plan, if not it would likely end in his death.

Kaz's attention was drawn to Gergel as he walked in front of him, careful to also keep out of striking distance, a maniacal smile on his face. "Only too bad you have to be alive tomorrow, if not I could have had some real fun with you, but a bit of play must be allowed".

Kaz didn't like where this was going, knowing his body had already reached his limit.

As soon as they heard the outer door shut, Gergel darted in behind Kaz. Kaz tried to move to meet him, but he was too slow. Gergel grabbed the knife again, and twisted it while pulling it out in one swift move. This time Kaz couldn't hold back the scream as the white, hot pain lanced through him, blood spilling from the wound. Gergel circled back to the front. Kaz tried to follow, but was listing bad and struggling to pay attention, exhaustion and blood loss taking over, his strength and adrenaline fading fast. Gergel seized his chance, and started hammering at Kaz's exposed mid section.

The first punch knocked the breath out of Kaz. Between his tight throat, the constant punches and the skin-to-skin contact, he was back to drowning in his nightmares. There was no Inej to fight for or protect, no escape in sight, only pain and possibly death waited for him. He let himself succumb to the darkness that pulled at him, letting himself sink underneath the waves with Jordie's rotting corpse and dead staring eyes, disappearing in the dark sea.