How does one take down a criminal organization?

Well, the smartest approach would probably be to not mess with them in the first place. Walk away. Move to another city. Change your name. Buy a cottage somewhere remote and take up gardening.

But since that option was thoroughly out the window—thanks to a tracking spell and two attempts on his life—Adom had to consider alternatives.

He could go to the authorities, except, according to Cisco, the Children of the Moon had their tendrils deep in local law enforcement. He could try to bankrupt them, but that would take years he didn't have. He could challenge their leader to single combat... Actually, nevermind. That was stupid. That'd definitely get him killed.

Adom's approach was simpler: identify the weak points and press until something broke. It wasn't elegant, but then again, neither was he. What he did have was a frighteningly practical mind, a talent for magic that surprised even himself sometimes, and the kind of cunning that came from spending too much time thinking about how things could go wrong.

It turned out those were exactly the right qualities for bringing down a criminal empire. Who knew?

"You've caused quite the mess in the Undertow," Cisco said, his tiny paw now adjusting the silver-headed cane. "The Children haven't had time to properly hunt you - too busy fighting a war on six fronts."

"Me?"

"Hmm." His whiskers twitched. "Bad blood runs deep in the Undertow. The Silver Circle never forgot how the Children muscled into their shipping routes five years ago. The River Kings still remember the warehouse massacre. Even the Shadow Market holds a grudge over a business with some artifact smuggling." The mouse's dark eyes glinted. "All it needed was a spark. A spark that you caused."

"And now?"

"Now?" Cisco's tail curved with satisfaction. "The Children are losing territory by the day. Their allies - the few they had - are suddenly developing selective memory when it comes to old agreements. No one wants to back a losing side." He gestured at his ledger. "My profits are up thirty percent - turns out a lot of people were waiting for an excuse to move against them."

"They made enemies of everyone who mattered in the Undertow," Adom noted.

"Arrogance." Cisco shrugged. "They thought fear would keep everyone in line. But fear only works until something scarier comes along." He paused. "Or until someone shows that the monster can bleed."

"In that case," Adom said, "I don't suppose I could get a discount?"

Cisco's deep laugh filled the office. "No."

"That–"

"Now, about the Children of the Moon." Cisco's voice cut through Adom's budding protest. "They're vulnerable. Their attention is split, resources stretched thin. Perfect time to strike."

He tapped his cane against the desk. "First, we identify their income streams. Protection money, smuggling routes, gambling dens. Interrupt those, their soldiers don't get paid. Unpaid soldiers get... creative with their loyalties. Then we target their information network. Bad intel leads to poor decisions. Poor decisions..." He gestured with one tiny paw. "Well."

"And you know all their weak points."

"Naturally. Complete intelligence package: locations, contacts, schedules. Everything you need to dismantle their operation." He paused. "For a price."

"Which would be?"

"Eighty thousand."

"That's—" Adom stopped. "Hold on. This benefits you too. You said they have been a thorn in your side for years."

"True."

"And I've already helped increase your profits."

"Also true."

"So really, you should give me a discount."

Cisco's tail curved thoughtfully. "Fifty percent."

"Ninety-five. Plus you still owe me that twenty-seven point five percent reduction on the assassin, as Marco calculated that day."

Marco adjusted his glasses.

"Ninety percent. And fifteen off the assassin."

"You know," Cisco said, each word measured like drops of poison, "most people who sit in that chair understand the delicate nature of our relationship. The careful balance between..." His tail coiled. "...favor and necessity."

"I understand perfectly. I'm still not paying full price for something that benefits me so little."

"So little?" Dark eyes fixed on Adom. "Tell me, what do you think happens to the territory once the Children fall? The wealth? The connections?" His deep voice grew softer, more dangerous. "Have you considered that perhaps I already have plans for all of it?"

"Keep it," Adom said flatly. "I don't want their territory, their money, or their people. I want them gone."

Cisco went very still. "No profit?" A pause. "Just destruction?"

"Just destruction."

The mouse's expression shifted - something between appreciation and curiosity. "Five percent of operational costs. You cover your own expenses."

"Deal."

Marco adjusted his glasses again, probably calculating how many headaches this partnership would cause him.

Cisco lifted his absurdly tiny coffee cup. "We start today. The Children have a shipment coming in at midnight - weapons, mostly. Would be a shame if someone tipped off the city guard about illegal cargo at dock thirteen."

"And you're just now mentioning this?"

"Information has a shelf life." He took a delicate sip. "I'll keep you updated on similar opportunities. And I'll be expecting that five percent soon." His dark eyes shifted. "Marco, what's the exact figure?"

"Forty thousand gold pieces, accounting for operational costs, minus the previously discussed reductions, factoring in current market variables and anticipated resource allocation," Marco said without looking up from his ledger, "comes to thirty-nine thousand, seven hundred and twenty-two gold pieces and four silvers."

Adom looked at Marco. "I still say you're making these numbers up."

Marco adjusted his glasses.

"He always does that," Cisco said, setting down his cup. "It's either extremely impressive or extremely annoying. I haven't decided which."