I can't help tilt my head at those last words, but for now I express no such confusion and instead accept Dia overcoming this momentary doubt. I take hold of her hand, letting go only as I approach the bar. Such a strong, visible bond between each other could easily turn into a weak point for enemies to exploit, and I'm not putting my sister in so much danger...
Yes, Diana understood the seriousness of the situation just as well as I did... The potentially menacing act of finding work from the same Mafia family we'd been undermining all this time. For better or worse though, Mafia families paid good money for good work, often far more than the job's difficulty. As far as I'm concerned, it's worth the risk... And keeping your composure is key. If I sweat too much, if I look too jittery... The guy will know something's up, and before we know it we'll have a bullseye on our heads. Every so often I look at Diana, the only risk I'd rather not take.
Her well being, mental and physical, matters more than anything... But we still need to put food on the table.
So when the mafioso explains he wants needs us to intimidate a shop owner into paying up, all I can think of is "Easy money". Thus, I stand upright and urge Diana after me with a simple nod:
"He'll be paying shortly.", I reassure the client, taking my sister and walking towards the shop. Unlike our last job, this one seems almost... Peaceful... By comparison at least. We'll have to shake down a shopkeeper into paying, but at least we have only to scare him. Surely Diana will deal with this one a bit better? I'd ask to come alone, but she'd never allow it. No... We're in this together, "Watch the door, Dia..."
As we enter the shop, we find ourselves alone with our target. I wasted no time pushing him around, or asking him questions when I already knew the answer. Once the man confirmed to be the shopkeeper they were looking for, I moved on instinct, striking him in the throat a silencing him. As he gasped for desperate breath, I grabbed him by the scruff and held the edge of my sword against his neck, just enough to draw a thin line of blood:
"Now, here's what you're gonna do. Your gonna reassure your creditor, and conjure up the money yesterday... Luckily for you, he doesn't care where you get it, so use your imagination.", not so much a threat or a command, but a statement as I glare into his eyes. He's in no position to disagree, and I make it quite clear I'd have no qualms cutting him before running away from the authorities, "And if I have to come here a second time, you'll get more than just a scratch."
Painful it may be, I didn't strike hard enough to kill him, and before long he could breathe properly again. The startling, frightening struggle for air might have shaved a few years off his lifespan, yet that's no concern of mine. As long as he's still alive next week, I'll have done my job. Whether he holds up the written promise he'd soon make also depends on how my client deals with this...
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