Liu Shen arrived at dawn as instructed.
The man looked worse than he had the night before—unwashed, eyes red from lack of sleep, carrying the defeated posture of someone who'd stopped fighting fate. The contract had ensured his compliance, but Kael noted with clinical interest that Liu Shen would have come anyway. Guilt was a powerful motivator.
"What do you need me to do?" Liu Shen's voice was hoarse.
"Information first. List every merchant contact you maintained when you ran your shop. Names, locations, what they trade, who owes whom favors." Kael gestured to a corner of the warehouse where he'd arranged a makeshift workspace. "Write it all down. Complete inventory."
"That'll take hours."
"Then start now."
Liu Shen moved to comply, the contract providing gentle encouragement. Kael watched him settle into the work, then turned his attention to Chen Wei.
"The injured person you mentioned. Where do I find them?"
Chen Wei had stopped resisting the contract's pull. It was easier to cooperate than fight invisible chains. "There's a woman, Yin Hua. Works at the textile mill. Caught her hand in machinery three days ago. Can't afford a healer, can't work with one hand. She'll be desperate."
"Location?"
"Northern district. The mill owner tolerates her living in the storage room until she recovers. If she recovers."
Kael nodded. "And the person who wants something they can't afford?"
"That's half the outer district. You'll need to be more specific."
"Someone with visible ambition. Someone close to achieving something but lacking final resources." Kael's eyes tracked the warehouse activity. "Someone like her."
He pointed to the woman he'd noticed yesterday—the one who'd been sharpening knives while watching Boss Feng. She was doing it again now, her movements precise, professional. But her eyes never stopped calculating.
"Mei Xing," Chen Wei said quietly. "She wants to run her own operation. Has the skills, has the connections, lacks the capital to break from the Iron Fist and go independent.
Feng knows but doesn't care—figures she'll never save enough to leave."
"Perfect." Kael filed all three targets away. "We'll approach Yin Hua first. Injured people are time-sensitive."
They left the warehouse as the outer district stirred to life. The morning was cold, mist clinging to the narrow streets. Kael moved through the crowds with practiced invisibility—head down, posture submissive, nothing to mark him as worth noticing.
A survival skill learned over twenty-three years of being worthless.
They were three streets from the textile mill when Kael felt it.
A ripple. Not physical—something else. Like a string being plucked in a dimension slightly adjacent to normal reality. His marked hand pulsed once, sharp and urgent.
"Stop," Kael said.
Chen Wei halted immediately, the contract enforcing instant obedience. "What—"
"Someone's here. Someone who can sense contracts." Kael's mind worked rapidly, analyzing possibilities. The Chain Order. It had to be. They'd tracked him faster than expected.
The mist ahead shifted unnaturally, parting like a curtain drawn aside.
A woman stepped through.
She wore dark robes marked with silver runes that seemed to move when not directly observed. Her mask was pale, elegant, covering the upper half of her face. Only her mouth and chin were visible—the expression neutral, professional. At her hip hung a sword, the scabbard engraved with patterns that hurt to look at directly.
Kael recognized the design from sect records. Chain Order. High rank.
"Kael Yuan," the woman said. Her voice was cold, crystalline. "You're coming with me."
Chen Wei made a strangled sound, starting to back away. The contract kept him from running entirely, but fear overrode discipline.
Kael's hand shot out, gripping Chen Wei's arm. "Stay. Running marks us as guilty."
"We are guilty!"
"Guilty and smart is better than guilty and stupid." Kael kept his voice low, then addressed the woman directly. "Chain Order. I'm honored. They usually send multiple hunters for confirmed pact-bearers. You came alone. That suggests either extreme confidence or you're observing, not capturing."
The woman's expression didn't change, but Kael caught a slight shift in her posture. Interest, perhaps. Or reassessment.
"You're well-informed for a mortal who awakened three days ago."
"I spent twenty-three years reading sect records. Your organization appears frequently in historical documentation. You hunt pact-bearers, study them, and occasionally—when political conditions align—execute them publicly as cautionary examples." Kael kept his tone analytical, factual. "You're Sequence 6 minimum, judging by the confidence and the solo approach. Probably Rune Warden specialization based on the sword engravings."
"Sequence 6, yes. Rune Warden, correct." The woman took one step closer. "You've done your research. But research won't save you. You violated the seals. You took power from the Pathway of Binding. That makes you a threat to the ten-thousand-year peace."
"Peace built on sealed gods and controlled cultivation. Very stable until it isn't." Kael felt his marked hand pulse again, stronger now. The Pathway responding to proximity to another power. "You're not here to capture me. Not yet. You're here to assess. To determine if I'm a threat worth the resources to eliminate, or if I'm small enough to ignore while the Chain Order handles larger problems."
The woman's mouth curved slightly. Not quite a smile. "You think highly of your importance."
"No. I think accurately about probability. The seal in Red Mist Valley beneath the Azure Sky Sect is deteriorating—I know because my awakening is linked to it. If one seal is weakening, others might be as well. The Chain Order has finite resources. You're triaging threats." Kael took a calculated risk. "I'm Sequence 9. I've made maybe ten contracts total. I'm barely worth a footnote in your organization's threat assessment."
"Ten contracts in three days is accelerated progression."
"Survival-driven acceleration. I'm stabilizing stolen cultivation, not pursuing power for its own sake. There's a distinction."
The woman studied him for a long moment. Chen Wei stood frozen between them, barely breathing.
"What's your name?" Kael asked.
"Names have power in contract magic. I'm not giving you leverage."
"Then I'll call you Pale Blade until you tell me otherwise." Kael gestured to his marked hand. "You're deciding whether to kill me now or track me for future action. If you were going to kill me, you'd have struck already. Optimal assassination window was when you first appeared—I was unprepared, distracted. But you initiated dialogue. That suggests you're interested in what I might do next."
"Or I'm gathering intelligence before I act."
"Possible. But inefficient. Chain Order doctrine emphasizes swift elimination of confirmed threats. Conversation extends risk unnecessarily." Kael paused. "Unless you're not following doctrine. Unless you have questions doctrine doesn't answer."
The woman's expression finally shifted—a flicker of something that might have been uncertainty. "You're unusually analytical for someone three days into corruption."
"The corruption hasn't reached my logic centers yet. Just my emotions. I can still think clearly." Kael took his own calculated risk. "You're wondering if I'm different from previous bearers. If there's something about my approach that's worth studying before I'm eliminated. The answer is yes—I'm treating this like a math problem, not a power fantasy. That's probably unusual."
"It is."
"Then here's my proposal. You don't kill me today. I continue my work stabilizing my cultivation. In exchange, I provide you information about how the Pathway of Binding functions from a bearer's perspective. Real-time data your organization can't get from corpses or sealed artifacts."
The woman's hand moved to her sword hilt. Not drawing it. Just resting there. "You're offering to betray your Pathway?"
"I'm offering information exchange. The Pathway doesn't care about my loyalty—it cares about its own freedom. If my observations help your organization understand the threat better, that serves my interest in not being immediately killed."
"Why would you help us contain something you rely on for power?"
"Because I'm pragmatic. I need thirty more days to stabilize. After that, I'm not actively dying. If helping you extends my survival timeline, it's net positive for me." Kael's expression remained neutral. "And because I suspect you're going to track me regardless of this conversation. Better to establish cooperation than force conflict."
Silence stretched. The mist continued its unnatural stillness, as if the world was holding its breath.
Finally, the woman spoke. "You have thirty days. I'll be watching. If your contract rate accelerates beyond survival needs, if you show signs of pursuing higher Sequences aggressively, I'll return. And next time, I won't talk first."
"Understood."
"And Kael Yuan? Don't mistake this for mercy. I'm treating you as a research subject, not an ally. The moment you stop being interesting, you stop breathing."
She turned, walking back into the mist. Within three steps, she'd vanished completely.
Chen Wei collapsed against the wall, gasping. "What the hell was that?"
"Exactly what I said. Assessment, not assassination." Kael's heart was racing, but his voice remained steady. "We need to move. She's watching, which means we need to appear non-threatening. Continue with the plan. Find Yin Hua, make the contract, establish pattern of survival-focused behavior."
"You just negotiated with a Chain Order hunter!"
"I provided logical arguments to someone capable of understanding cost-benefit analysis. She's not stupid—killing me now wastes potential intelligence value. I gave her a reason to postpone." Kael started walking toward the textile mill. "Now move. We're losing daylight."
Chen Wei followed, still shaking. "Does nothing scare you?"
"Terror is biochemically inefficient. It clouds judgment." Kael's marked hand still pulsed faintly, the Pathway agitated by proximity to another power. "Besides, fear implies I have something to lose beyond my life. I've already calculated that outcome. If I die, I stop experiencing problems. That's not frightening—it's just probability."
"That's insane."
"No. That's optimization." They turned down the alley leading to the mill. "Now help me find Yin Hua. I have thirty-four contracts remaining and twenty-eight days to complete them. The mathematics just got more challenging."
Behind them, invisible in the mist, Seris—the Pale Blade—watched from a rooftop.
In her hand, she held a jade token that recorded conversation. Evidence for her superiors. Proof that Kael Yuan was perhaps the most dangerous kind of pact-bearer: one who thought clearly, adapted quickly, and showed no emotional vulnerability to exploit.
She should kill him.
But he was right—he was more valuable alive. For now.
She marked his location on her mental map and vanished into the morning, leaving only the faintest trace of silver light in the mist.
The hunt had begun in earnest.
But the prey was negotiating the rules.
That hadn't happened before.
It wouldn't end well.
But it would be interesting to watch.