Chapter 636: Something About a Fence

"Take off your dress and turn your back to me."

[Okay... this situation again] Benjamin thought, watching the size of that fist without shifting his weight. [I can’t believe people live here and treat this as ordinary. If I truly were a young, innocent woman walking these streets alone, I would be in serious trouble right now].

He let his gaze drop to the packed dirt at his feet.

A thin line of ants was moving along a narrow crack in the ground, each one following the one ahead in a steady, unhurried procession.

They carried tiny fragments of something—food, building material, the ordinary currency of their small lives—and they moved with purpose, with direction.

The ordinary industry of the insects stood in contrast to the larger, heavier presence only a few steps away.

"I understand." Benjamin said at last. His voice stayed conversational, as if he were discussing the condition of the road. "You are horny, and you have power, so instead of trying to do things the right way—instead of finding someone willing or walking away—you would rather just force it."

He kept his eyes on the ants for another beat before looking up again. "Okay. I will comply. But you must undress me yourself."

The smile on the man’s face widened, the expression spreading slowly and with palpable satisfaction.

The man’s gaze moved with deliberate care across Benjamin’s face.

He lingered on the blue crystal eyes, the soft pink of the full lips, the unusually light skin, and the overall delicate lines of the figure standing only a short distance away.

His eyes traveled slowly, taking in each detail as though he were memorizing it, as though he were cataloging the features of something rare and unexpected.

Something in that combination caught and held him—perhaps the contradiction of it, the way the softness of the face sat atop a frame that held itself with confidence.

His hands began to rise from his sides, moving slowly and thoughtfully, toward the lower edge of Benjamin’s garment.

The fingers were thick and calloused. The palms were broad enough to cover most of a person’s ribs.

***

"Oh geez, Erica... Why did you have to show up right now?"

Benjamin’s voice had a clear, theatrical pout as he stared at the furious green-haired elf who now stood with one boot planted firmly on the bald head of the muscular man.

The man himself lay half-curled on the packed dirt of the alley, breath shallow, body still after the sudden and decisive violence that had interrupted everything.

His massive frame looked smaller now, crumpled against the ground, the hard lines of his muscles slack and useless.

One arm was twisted beneath him at an angle that suggested something had been broken.

His eyes were closed. His chest rose and fell in short, uneven movements. A thin line of blood ran from one nostril down across his lip and disappeared into the dirt.

Erica had turned the corner only moments earlier.

She had been scanning the quieter stretches of street for any sign of where Benjamin had gone, her green eyes moving methodically from doorway to doorway, from alley to alley, from shadow to shadow.

Her steps had been light and careful, the steps of someone who was used to watching for trouble.

What she found instead was a heavily built stranger with one large hand already closed around Benjamin’s waist, the other beginning to reach lower.

She did not shout a warning, and she did not call Benjamin’s name. She simply bolted.

The first swing of her fist landed with clean, focused force against the man’s midsection.

Something inside the dense muscle and bone seemed to give way under the impact—a dull internal crack that traveled upward through his frame.

The sound was wet and final. Before he could straighten or draw a proper breath, she followed with a sharp round kick that caught him squarely across the face and dropped him hard onto the ground.

For a few brief seconds, the careful traveler disappeared and a pure delinquent stood in her place.

Her movements were short, efficient, and entirely without mercy. Her fists knew where to go.

Her feet knew where to land, and there was no hesitation in her, no pause for thought: just the clean, practiced violence of someone who had done this before and had never regretted it.

After the beating, she left the man where he lay and stepped back to Benjamin’s side.

The two of them began walking away from the mouth of the alley without looking back.

The sounds of the wider street returned gradually: distant voices, the occasional creak of a shutter, the soft scrape of boots on uneven dirt.

"Well," Erica said, her voice still having the residual heat of the fight, "I told you I was going to protect you.... And I realized your palms were glowing behind your back. Better me than you."

Benjamin rolled his eyes as they put steady distance between themselves and the quiet, crumpled form in the shadows.

"Ugh, so you were protecting him, then?" The question came out dry, edged with mild exasperation. "Whatever. I was coming to get you in the first place before any of that happened."

Erica glanced sideways at him, the green of her eyes still sharp.

"Did you get any information?"

"I did. And I have a plan as well." Benjamin turned his face fully toward her, one brow lifted in clear challenge. "Did YOU get any information besides the taste of their beer?"

Erica kept her expression carefully straight and solemn.

"That not all the people in the Lot district are bad people? Yes. Information on the rat? No."

"Don’t even try to escape it with such a straight face!!" Benjamin nudged her with his elbow, the motion light but pointed enough to make his meaning clear.

Erica clasped her hands together in a small gesture of mock mercy as they followed another turn of the narrow street.

The buildings on either side leaned a little closer here, their worn surfaces and sagging roofs casting longer, cooler shadows across the packed dirt.

The air still had the subtle sour undertone that seemed to belong to the whole district.

"Forgive me," she said, the apology light and suspiciously unrepentant. "The smell of beer after the long walk was too seductive. What is the plan now?"

Benjamin’s expression settled into something more serious. The playful edge left his voice.

"I have discovered a number of lairs where forbidden, and very likely illegal, experiments are going on." He glanced at her again, measuring the shift in her posture. "Is human or demi-human experiment okay in Thaad?"

Erica’s green eyes lost some of their usual light. The frown that crossed her face was slow and deep, the kind that belonged to an argument settled long ago and still carrying significance.

"It was banned around a century ago," she answered, each word measured. "And I was one of the people who led the cause. Why?"

Benjamin’s face took on a deliberately apologetic shape, the corners of his mouth turning down in a small, regretful curve.

"Well, you won’t be happy with the places we will be visiting." He looked forward again, watching the next stretch of uneven road as it dropped slightly toward another cluster of low, poorly maintained buildings.

"Eighty percent of the experiments here include humans and demi-humans. Very nasty ones too. But if they are happening here without the supervision of Thaad’s authorities, could it be okay in Lot district?"

Erica’s voice dropped to a hush that barely carried above the soft sound of their boots on the dirt. The words came out tight, controlled.

"Lot district is a ’no-law’ zone, Benjamin. I know we’re looking for the rat now, but can we slaughter all of them when we are done? You can leave the execution to me."

Benjamin spoke the next question more to the open air than to her, his eyes following the line of the street as it curved out of sight between two leaning walls.

"Why is it lawless...?"

He let the silence sit for a moment, the quiet of the district pressing in around the question.

When he continued, the words were measured and thoughtful, carrying the substance of something he had considered before.

"Erica, there is a great saying where I’m from: ’If you see a fence in the middle of a field, do not remove it: discover the origin and history of the fence first, before making a decision.’ No authority or monarch will ever want a place like the Lot district to exist when they don’t follow the rules. Is that not treason?"