The Raven: Prince of Iron and Blood.

Dvidešimt Trečias

A solitary figure emerged from the shadows of the grimy alleyway, the clack of her booted feet echoing off the damp brick walls. Rain had painted the world in shades of grey, the only colour coming from the neon lights flickering above the grimy shopfronts. The girl's eyes were sharp and focused, starkly contrasting to the bleary-eyed passersby who stumbled out of the pubs and into the night. Her breath steamed in the cold air, a silent declaration of her determination.

The man she approached was tall, his back to her, seemingly oblivious to the danger closing in. The golden ticket in his pocket burned like a beacon, a prize that had brought her here. He felt her presence before he saw her, a tickle at the back of his neck, but it was too late to react.

Her hand shot out, a glint of metal in the dim light, and the man barely had time to block before the knife bit into his arm. He roared in pain, his ring catching the blade and sending a spark into the air. The girl's grin was vicious, a twisted reflection of the joy she'd felt when she heard about the jackpot. But the man's expression was cold, and calculated, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his mouth.

He caught her by the wrist and twisted, forcing her to drop the knife. With a swift kick, he sent her sprawling onto the wet cobblestones. She rolled over, spitting a mouthful of rainwater and blood, and snarled up at him. "You think you're clever, don't you?" she growled, her eyes never leaving his pocket.

The man's smile grew wider, a flash of pearl-white teeth in the gloom. "I know I'm lucky," he said, patting his trousers. "But maybe not lucky enough to take on all five of you." He gestured to the shadows where four more figures had materialized. The girl's eyes narrowed, and she spat a crimson glob onto the ground. "Fine," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "We'll play it your way."

The four others stepped forward, forming a semi-circle around the man. They were all motley, each one uglier than the next, brutish, their breath reeking of cheap whiskey, cigarettes, rotten death, and fish meat. They were the kind of people who had been born to end up in alleys like this, preying on the unsuspecting and the weak. But tonight, they had chosen the wrong prey.

The girl climbed to her feet, her hand hovering over the switchblade at her side. "You're going to wish you'd just handed it over," she promised, her voice a mix of anger and excitement. The air grew thick with tension, the rain momentarily ceasing to fall as if even the sky held its breath in anticipation of the carnage to come.

The man's gaze swept over his attackers, his heart racing but his resolve unshaken. He had faced worse than a pack of street thugs in his life. "You're going to need more than that," he said, his voice steady. "I've got twenty million reasons to make sure you don't get your hands on this."

The girl's smile was chilling as she nodded to her comrades. "Let's see if we can't convince him otherwise," she said, flipping open her blade with a wicked snap.

The battle was swift and brutal. The man's movements were fluid, each punch and kick a deadly dance that sent his attacker staggering back. His ring glinted with each blow, leaving bruises and broken bones in its wake. But the girl was relentless, her eyes never leaving the prize. She feigned left, then swiped right, her blade grazing his cheek and leaving a hot trail of pain.

He stumbled back, blood trickling down his face, and for a moment, he felt a flicker of doubt. But then he saw her, the girl who had started it all, her arm hanging limp, her face a mask of rage and pain. The girl snarled, her fury ignited anew. In a heartbeat, she lunged at him, fists assaulting him with brutal precision. Pain exploded across his ribs and gut, sending him crashing into an overflowed bin of rotten fish, the stench a vile assault on his senses.

A wicked grin spread across her face, confidence oozing from her every pore. "Better hand it over now while you still have a face," she taunted, her eyes glinting with malicious glee.