Of Hunters and Immortals

Jiang stared steadily across the polished desk, meeting the Broker's masked gaze without flinching.

"I'll take the contract on Huo Jin."

The Broker leaned back slightly, and Jiang could practically feel the satisfaction radiating through the ornate mask.

"An excellent choice," the Broker said smoothly, steepling his gloved fingers. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd reconsider."

"I didn't come here for your approval," Jiang replied coldly. "Just give me the information."

If the Broker was offended, he didn't show it. Instead, he chuckled softly, reaching smoothly into the drawer to his right. He withdrew a small packet of neatly folded parchment and slid it across the desk, tapping it lightly with one finger.

"Everything you'll need is right here. Huo Jin's habits, favourite haunts, and the routes he takes when conducting his… business."

Jiang picked up the packet, quickly flipping through the pages. His jaw tightened slightly when his gaze fell upon a meticulously detailed physical description. Every scar, every identifying tattoo – it was all neatly spelled out.

His eyes flicked up sharply, accusation clear on his face. "You seem to have included every relevant detail this time."

The Broker inclined his head slightly, the mask hiding his expression, but not the faint note of amusement in his voice. "Of course. I always give you everything you need to complete any task I offer."

Jiang's fists tightened around the parchment, anger simmering quietly beneath the surface. He'd always known the Broker wasn't to be trusted, at least not personally – but until now, he'd assumed the man at least had a professional code. Clearly, Liang Shen's missing description had been intentional, designed solely to manipulate him.

"You left details out before," Jiang pressed, voice low and dangerous. "Conveniently."

A pause hung between them, the tension thickening.

"I gave you exactly the information you paid for," the Broker replied calmly, waving one hand dismissively. "You requested a name, you received one. I even threw in a location for free. No need to thank me."

Jiang bit back a retort, forcing himself to take a steadying breath. There was no point arguing that he had paid for information on a single person, not just a name – but there was no point. The Broker was an opportunist, and Jiang had technically only asked for a name. Trying to get him to stick to the spirit of an agreement instead of the letter would be a waste of time – and if nothing else, Jiang would consider the money well spent, considering it had shown him to be more cautious in his dealings with the man in future. He'd managed without the description anyway.

Without another word, Jiang rose abruptly, slipping the packet into his robes.

Behind him, the Broker spoke again, voice soft and measured. "When the job is complete, your payment will be waiting. Be cautious. Huo Jin is more dangerous than he appears."

Jiang paused briefly at the door, glancing back over his shoulder. "That makes two of us."

Then he stepped out into the hallway, leaving the Broker's quiet laughter to fade into silence behind him.

— — —

Jiang crouched at the edge of the rooftop, bow resting comfortably in his grip, his gaze trained on the sprawling, ramshackle building that served as the Iron Dogs' headquarters. He'd spent nearly an hour methodically working his way around the perimeter, carefully noting potential escape routes and blind spots from which to shoot.

Already, he was becoming comfortable moving across the rooftops. Far more comfortable than he'd expected, really – though perhaps that wasn't surprising. Navigating crowded city streets had never felt natural to him, but up here, it was just open sky, quiet rooftops, and clear sightlines. It wasn't quite the same, but it was the closest thing he'd felt to hunting in months. Familiar, reassuringly simple.

He'd missed it.

Below, a half-dozen Iron Dogs lounged outside the building, leaning casually against battered wooden posts and smoking pipes, crude weapons close at hand. More drifted through nearby alleys or loitered near a cart laden with sacks – another four there, easily. He'd counted at least fifteen distinct individuals just on the exterior, all armed and all looking decidedly dangerous. Lin hadn't been exaggerating.

He scowled faintly at the thought of her nervous warnings earlier that day. She'd grown visibly spooked when he told her about the contract on Hou Jin. Apparently, she'd expected something along the lines of stealing from the man, which was bad enough. On learning that he was intending to kill him, she'd freaked out a little, eyes wide as she described the sheer number of gang members protecting Huo Jin. Too many blades, too many eyes, she'd said. She'd begged him to reconsider – at least, until she'd caught herself and gone abruptly silent, withdrawing into quiet disapproval instead.

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Jiang couldn't really blame her. She'd begun pulling away ever since the revelation about the raven, Old Nan, and everything that marked him clearly as something more dangerous than a simple outsider. The interrogation of Liang Shen had only accelerated it, his casual use of shadows unsettling her even further. She'd guided him to the Iron Dog's hideout without comment, but unlike the last few times hadn't stuck around to wait for him to finish, simply muttering something about meeting him back at Old Nan's.

Fortunately, he'd gotten familiar enough with the city over the last few days to not be completely helpless when it came to navigation.

He wasn't happy about it, but perhaps it was for the best. She'd been helpful – more than helpful, really – but there was no future in relying on her guidance. When the time came to track down his family, he'd likely be hunting more dangerous prey than slavers or gangsters. She would be a liability, or worse, another person he couldn't protect.

Still a shame, though. He hadn't really known what he was getting into when he'd first vowed to hunt down the Hollow Fangs and save his family, but he certainly hadn't expected it to take quite this long.

Silly of him, in hindsight – but then, that was often the nature of hindsight.

Either way, her company had been… appreciated. Someone who wasn't able to kill him with a flick of a finger, someone who didn't have uncertain goals or motivations. Someone who was willing to snark at him, but still willing to help. As long as she was paid for it, granted, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He sighed softly, pushing the thought away. This wasn't the time to dwell on what-ifs and distant futures. He had work to do, and it demanded his full attention.

He crept silently around the rooftop, shifting his position slightly to study the southern side of the building. The information packet from the Broker had been thorough in all the ways the last one wasn't; it described Huo Jin as a tall, lean man with a prominent scar stretching from his right ear down across his throat, unmistakable and easy to identify.

Despite his resolve, Lin's concerns had crept into his thoughts more than once, nearly causing him to doubt himself. He'd wondered briefly if his bow alone was enough, if he should have replaced the sword he'd lost beneath the waves along with the Dawn's Fortune. He'd started wondering how he might fight his way through twenty angry men and still escape.

Then he'd remembered – he wasn't a warrior, wasn't a swordsman. Not really. He'd trained a little, yes, and the physical abilities granted by his cultivation made him more dangerous than most, but his strength had always been in his bow and his patience. He wasn't a cultivator – not in the way the Sects thought about it, anyway. Why had he let their way of thinking worm its way into his mind?

He was a hunter. This was nothing more than another hunt. Dangerous prey, certainly, but he was dangerous in his own right, now. Besides, he didn't have to fight through dozens of gangsters; he simply needed one clean shot.

Slowly, he stood, shifting once more to another vantage point. He had yet to actually spot Huo Jin, though in fairness, he'd only been watching for a couple of hours so far. The building had more than a few exits, but he was willing to bet that Huo Jin wasn't going to be sneaking out the back. If nothing else, Lin assured him that the man had a reputation for arrogance.

That left two possible exits he had to watch, at opposite ends of the building. His vantage point was high enough that he could see both, but only one of them was close enough that he would be comfortable taking a shot. A little irritating, but there wasn't much he could do about it besides being ready to move quickly if he lost the coin toss and Hou Jin exited from whichever exit he wasn't watching.

Fortunately, luck was with him this time.

A few hours after he'd settled into his watch, the main doors swung open, spilling warm lantern light into the dim street. Jiang's eyes narrowed sharply, pulse quickening as a group of men stepped out. He spotted Huo Jin immediately, identifiable even from this distance and in the fading light. It wasn't just that the man matched the description the Broker provided, but the way the other men clearly deferred to him.

The gang leader moved with an air of casual arrogance, laughing loudly at something one of his men had said.

Jiang slowly raised his bow, the familiar weight comforting in his grip as he drew the arrow smoothly back. For just a moment, he considered channelling a thread of Qi into his arms, enhancing his strength – but he hesitated, uncertain. He'd never practised shooting with reinforcement before, and the risk of throwing off his shot was unacceptable.

Still, a tiny whisper of Qi slipped out anyway, flowing unconsciously into the polished wood of the bow itself. Jiang almost released the arrow prematurely, surprise jolting through him, but quickly steadied himself. The bow felt no different, no heavier or lighter – and fortunately didn't seem like it was about to break – but he could sense his Qi faintly humming within it, a strange resonance he hadn't felt before. Interesting, but a curiosity best saved for later.

He exhaled softly, clearing his mind, letting the world shrink to just him, his target, and the space between. The faint sounds of the gang leader's laughter echoed off the cobblestones, unaware of the danger perched silently above.

Jiang loosed.

The arrow hissed through the air, perfectly placed, striking Huo Jin cleanly in the side of the neck. The man didn't stagger dramatically or roar in fury – he simply collapsed, legs folding under him as he hit the ground without so much as a cry. His men stared stupidly at their fallen leader, slow to realise what had happened.

'Shockingly anticlimactic,' Jiang thought, almost numbly. It felt like the moment should be… significant, in some way. Instead, it was just like any one of his hunts – hours of patience distilled into a single perfect shot.

He didn't linger, already turning away from the scene, running lightly across the rooftops. The first cries of alarm rose behind him, confusion quickly shifting into panic as the gang members tried to figure out where the arrow had come from. Someone shouted orders, another screamed threats into the empty night – but by the time they thought to look upwards, Jiang had already vanished, blending seamlessly into the comforting darkness.

He'd known from the start that reclaiming his family would require crossing lines he could never uncross – lines that no longer seemed quite as distinct as they once had.

He just hadn't expected it to be so… easy.