Chapter 64: Floor 50

’He doesn’t know me,’ he thought. ’But his loyalty to Marcus is almost full. A man like that won’t take a bribe from a stranger, even though he wants one.’

He filed the information away and turned before the captain’s eyes could drift his way.

That evening. A small street near the lift.

He didn’t plan to use the third reading. He was only standing in a doorway, waiting for a patrol to pass.

Then a hunter walked out of a shop across the street, holding a paper bag. He was a thin man in his twenties, with short red hair and a plain, forgettable face. He wore a hunter’s badge and a cheap sword. He looked like any other man buying dinner.

But he stopped. He stopped halfway across the road, and his eyes went to the poster on the wall next to him. Then they went to Dante’s hood, to the shape of his jaw, to his hands.

Dante felt it before he saw it.

[Open Profile]

[Name: Joren Tace.]

[True Rank: C-Rank.]

[Summary: Scout for the Radiant Dawn. Specializes in tracking and face recognition. Supports his mother on Floor 20.]

[Heart Reading]

Suspicion: 66

Fear: 15

Greed: 25

Loyalty to Marcus: 40

[Dominant Feeling: Suspicion.]

[Intent: Confirm identity. Then report to the nearest guild post.]

[Recognition: Dante Grey (66% certain).]

’Sixty-six,’ he thought. ’He doesn’t have it yet. But he will.’

The scout lifted one hand slowly to his ear, where a small crystal bead hung from a cord. He turned his head, as if to speak into it.

Dante had a few seconds, and that was all.

He took one step back into the doorway, so the lamp wouldn’t catch his face, and pressed his thumb against his ring.

The stone eye opened. He saw the scout’s heartbeat, the bead on his ear, and the line of energy that ran from it up toward a signal tower three streets away.

The scout’s mouth opened. "This is Tace," he whispered into the crystal. "I have a possible match on Grey. Floor 45, market side, near the north lift..."

Dante moved. He walked, quickly and quietly, straight across the road, like a man heading home. The scout turned his head too late.

"Wait, you’re..."

Dante’s left hand closed gently on the man’s wrist and pulled the bead off its cord. The crystal went dark in his fingers.

"Don’t shout," Dante said.

The scout’s eyes went wide. His mouth worked, but nothing came out. His free hand dropped to his sword and stopped, because Dante’s other hand was resting on his shoulder, very lightly, and the scout understood that he would not finish drawing.

"You’re him," the scout whispered.

"Maybe."

"The guild will find you."

"They already know where I’m going." Dante smiled a little, and it wasn’t kind. "That isn’t the question."

He looked at the man’s face again. Through the ledger, the numbers had shifted.

[Heart Reading]

Fear: 80

Suspicion: 40

Greed: 5

Loyalty to Marcus: 20

[Dominant Feeling: Fear.]

[Intent: Stay alive.]

’He’s not a killer,’ Dante thought. ’He’s a man with a mother and a job. If I scare him enough, he’ll stay quiet.’

He lowered his voice. "Joren Tace. You have a mother on Floor 20."

The scout turned white.

"I’m not going to hurt her," Dante said. "I’m not going to hurt you either. But you’re going to walk home, put the bead in a drawer, and say you saw nothing. If a report goes up, I’ll know it was you."

The scout nodded fast.

"Good."

Dante let go of his wrist. The man stood there for a second, shaking. Then he turned and walked away, down the street, without looking back.

Dante watched him go. He tucked the dead crystal into his sleeve and let out a slow breath.

He leaned against the wall. The skill had worked. It had told him that the captain was Marcus’s man to the bone, and that the scout wasn’t a killer. Both were things he’d have had to find out the hard way. But it hadn’t made the choice for him.

’It tells me what they feel,’ he thought. ’It doesn’t tell me what they will do in future and i still let him go, am i getting soft?!’

He rubbed the back of his hand where the mark had faded. Then, without meaning to, he thought of three faces.

A girl with cat ears, shivering in the snow, holding out a broken skill book.

An old man with a bone staff, saying hope scared me more than the volcano did.

A woman with gold eyes, trying her best for him.

He wondered what the ledger would say if he looked at them. Whether it would be Trust, or something worse. He pushed the thought down.

’Not yet,’ he told himself. ’I’m not ready to know.’

He pulled up his hood and walked toward the lift.

The next day.. On the Floor 50.

’Two years,’ he thought. ’Two years since I walked out of here.’

The city hadn’t changed. Tall towers of glass and gold stood in neat rows. Red banners with the winged sun hung down the front of every building, and clean white streets ran between them, swept by workers in grey. People in good clothes walked fast and talked loudly about deals.

He pulled his hood lower and started walking.

Nobody looked at him. A hooded man in a worn hoodie wasn’t worth a second glance here. They looked at the posters instead.

The posters were taller on this floor. Each one was the size of a door, glued on the side of every tower. Dante’s old face looked down from all of them, with the scar, the hard jaw, and the tired eyes.

[DANTE GREY. TRAITOR OF THE RADIANT DAWN.]

Next to each one hung the black ink sketch of a woman with gold eyes. He didn’t stop. He had learned not to look at that one.

At the end of the avenue, the buildings opened into a round plaza, and Dante stopped walking.

In the middle of the plaza stood a statue. It was carved from white stone and stood five meters tall. A man in battle armor, with a sword raised and his head lifted, faced the fake sun. The face was strong and calm. The scar on his cheek had been carved with care.

At the base, in gold letters, was a line of text.

[DANTE GREY. S-RANK. HERO OF THE RADIANT DAWN. HE GAVE HIS LIFE SO OTHERS COULD LIVE.]