The streets near the outer district had already started emptying by the time Riven and Leah parted ways.
Neither of them dragged the conversation longer than necessary after seeing the body hanging above the alley entrance. The message behind it was obvious enough that words would only repeat what both of them already understood. Someone had decided fear worked better when displayed publicly, and judging from the way pedestrians avoided even glancing upward while passing beneath it, the tactic seemed effective enough.
Riven continued walking alone after Leah disappeared into another lane, his pace unhurried despite the thoughts occupying his mind.
The retaliation itself didn't surprise him. Groups protecting valuable routes were always going to answer disruption with violence once enough money became involved. What interested him more was how quickly things had escalated after a single shipment went missing. The instability beneath the city felt much worse than he initially assumed.
And instability created demand. Not only for fighters, but for information, coordination, and people capable of moving through dangerous spaces without drawing attention to themselves.
That last thought brought Leah back into his mind.
During their conversation near the alley, he had noticed several small inconsistencies in her behavior that didn't fit the composed image she usually maintained. They were subtle enough that most people would dismiss them entirely. A delayed response when multiple voices overlapped nearby. Her gaze losing focus briefly before settling again. The repeated habit of pressing her thumb lightly against her wrist whenever the surrounding noise became too dense.
'Mental fatigue'. Or more specifically, strain connected to perception processing.
Riven didn't know the exact mechanics of her ability, but he understood enough about skills to recognize the symptoms of overload when he saw them. Skills affecting perception rarely came without drawbacks, especially ones designed around gathering information across multiple environments.
He kept turning the thought over while navigating through the quieter side roads leading back toward his room.
Until now, his focus had remained almost entirely on individual growth. Better movement. Better stealth. Better combat utility. Every decision revolved around survival and keeping himself ahead of whatever came next. But organizations weren't built around a single person endlessly compensating for everyone else's weaknesses.
If Leah became an important part of his operations moving forward, then her limitations mattered almost as much as his own. That realization stayed with him long enough that he changed direction halfway through the street instead of returning home.
Daris's section of the market remained open despite the late hour. The broker sat behind his cluttered table surrounded by stacked ledgers and half-opened storage cases while several lanterns cast uneven light across the stall.
He glanced up the moment Riven approached.
"You've developed terrible timing recently," Daris muttered while sorting through a pile of papers. "The district's half a step away from stabbing itself apart and suddenly everyone remembers I exist."
"Why do you say that like your business is suffering?" Riven asked rhetorically.
"It would suffer less if people stopped asking for impossible things." He sighed.
Riven rested one arm against the side of the stall. "How difficult is it to find skills related to mental protection?"
That earned more attention than he expected. Daris stopped organizing the papers in front of him and looked up properly this time.
"Mental protection in what sense?"
"Perception strain. Cognitive interference. Anything that helps reduce overload caused by sensory processing."
The broker studied him for a moment before leaning back slightly in his chair with an amused look on his face.
"That's specialized enough that I should probably start charging fees just to tell you instead of getting it for you," He said jokingly.
"You already charge enough for everything else."
"As you know, it's a cutthroat business. I have to take wherever I can."
Riven ignored the comment and waited while Daris thought through the request more seriously.
"Mental barrier skills exist," the broker said eventually, "but most people avoid them unless they work in very specific fields. Interrogators use them sometimes. Certain perception users too, depending on how their skills function." He paused briefly before adding, "The compatibility problems are usually what make them difficult."
"How bad?"
"Bad enough that blindly absorbing the wrong one can create more problems than it solves."
It was as Riven expected. Mental-type skills weren't like basic physical enhancement where imperfect compatibility only reduced efficiency. Interference affecting cognition or perception could destabilize other skills entirely if the functions clashed badly enough.
"Can you find one?" he asked.
Daris exhaled slowly through his nose while rubbing at his temple.
"I can try. But you're asking for a niche category during the middle of an underworld conflict where every broker is already hoarding anything remotely useful." His eyes narrowed slightly afterward. "And since you clearly aren't asking for yourself, you can't even be sure which one will be compatible."
Riven didn't respond to that part.
Daris noticed anyway.
"You know," he continued, "most people involved in dangerous business usually solve these problems by replacing whoever can't keep up."
"That's quite a cynical way to get along in your life." He said humourlessly.
"It's just efficient. People are always replaceable."
Riven zoned out for a second like he was thinking about how to move ahead from there.
"I believe people who think like that can never build something that lasts."
Daris let out a quiet laugh at that, though the amusement faded quickly.
"Your ambitions are getting bigger every day."
"I'm not getting into this ring to stay at the bottom forever." Riven said with a resolute expression.
That answer seemed to satisfy him enough. The broker reached beneath the table and pulled out a small notebook before scribbling something across one of the pages.
"I'll ask around," he said. "No promises on quality or price until I see what's available. Mental skills aren't exactly stacked in bargain bins."
"That's fine." Riven pushed away from the stall after the conversation ended, leaving Daris to his paperwork and complaints.
The market remained noisy around him, but the atmosphere had shifted noticeably compared to previous nights. When even civilians felt something wrong was going on behind the scenes, it means the bubble was going to burst at any moment. All it needed was one strong wind.
The underworld had started tightening in response to the conflict. Which meant opportunities would eventually start appearing for smaller operators willing to move carefully through the gaps.
Riven walked the rest of the distance back to his room while his thoughts gradually shifted away from Leah and toward a different problem entirely.
The vibrating blade technique he witnessed during the alley execution continued replaying itself in his mind. The courier's shield had not failed because of overwhelming force. The structure itself collapsed before the blade fully passed through it. That meant the attack carried some kind of destabilizing property rather than simple cutting power.
By the time he entered his room, the idea had already rooted itself deeply enough that ignoring it became impossible. He placed the [Glass Edge] stone onto the table beside the fractured strand recovered from the alley and sat down quietly.
For several minutes, he simply observed both of them beneath the dim lantern light. The strand still carried faint traces of instability along its structure. Whatever skill produced that vibrating effect had forced energy through the pathways at an absurd frequency. Inefficient for prolonged combat perhaps, but devastating against defensive skills relying on structural cohesion or physical enhancements.
Riven reached toward the Glass Edge stone slowly, his fingers brushing across the strands inside while the memory replayed itself again in his head.
He had a strong feeling that the resulting skill from this combination would give him a pleasant surprise he very much needed.