Gale knew he had lived his entire life on an edge.

The edge between being a non-spirit master and walking in the world of spirit masters. It was a life he balanced well, or so he imagined, doing so most of the time.

Once in a blue moon, he found himself asking, though, if he was really managing or stumbling through this life of his.

Like now.

In front of him was a high-ranking spirit hall priest preaching to him about how much the spirit hall wanted him and the numerous advantages it would bring to be part of it for his studies. Yet he keenly remembered the one time he had approached them when he first started his studies about spirit masters and beasts, even with the grandmaster as his teacher, they had turned him away with the words.

You are not even a spirit master. Go live a mundane life, do not concern yourself with matters far above your station.

He sighed.

A glance at the man. At least he didn't go into detail over his dissertations.

"Dear Sir. May I point out that this is a mechanics store? " He gestured to the clocks, boilers, fridges, and many other things around him. "Not a sermon hall." Then he gestured to the door. "And we are currently closed, due to private reasons." Helpfully, he pointed out the small tag on the front door that stated.

Closed for today, for private reasons

The man in front of him continued preaching, undeterred. Gale sighed. Well. "Sir." He said again, this time more steadfast. Now the man stopped preaching and, for the first time, listened to him.

"Yes?"

"My sworn sister is about to walk through this door any minute." He said his voice was calm. "While I treasure and see the great mercy and prestige of Spirit Hall, I have to openly admit to being a follower of the god of outcasts, and thus my own teachings and laws dictate that I may never, under no circumstances, ever sell my skills to exclusivity. They are for everyone."

Which he knew was, in fact, the reason why they were even here. Spirit Hall was not too happy that Gale was not making tools for them, especially weapons. Still, he refused to manufacture weapons for anyone.

"You should still consider it." The man in front of him said with a smile on his lips. "It would bring so many advantages."

"Or you could just screw off and do Gale a favor right now." A clear, almost bell-like voice said, and Gale tilted his head, glancing past the spirit Hall priest, spotting a small but nevertheless imposing figure.

Tang Yin was neither tall, overly beautiful, nor particularly imposing, yet with one sentence, she dominated the room with sheer presence alone, and he grinned. Yin had changed; there was now a sense of power sticking to her, and that of a storm tightly contained as she stood in front of the spirit hall master.

Whose entire focus shifted to Tang Yin and then to Jiang, who stepped inside behind her. Tall, looming, and dangerous. He had changed only physically. But then Gale suspected that when one was as old as Jiang, change was not something that came easily or in the span of what for him had to be the blink of an eye.

Now things were about to get funny, and he loved a nice, funny happening. Pity Damian was currently torturing some poor peep from the lower city quarters who came up with the lost stellar idea to sell drugs to minors in his territory in the cellar.

He would have loved this. He mused, with the security of Tang Yin's presence, he drifted off in thought.

Life, he thought, had drastically changed for them in the last few years. For better and for worse in equal parts.

Being a Mafioso had suited Damian like a second Skin. Gale learned how to swim with the sharks of the underbelly with more difficulty, eventually. But he was neither good nor keen on doing so, hence he left that world largely to Damian and provided support whenever he could.

A trust had been built over time; he knew Damian would never betray him, just as Damian knew Gale would never tattle on him and always be on his side. Even if his personal opinion might be different.

On the drug dealer, they had agreed, though, hence, the torture. Adults were old enough to know better, selling the dangerous stuff to children and minors, though.

There was sadly no cure for idiocy.

He had not spent the last five years legalizing every single business venture of the Port Mafia for one poor fella to screw it up through carelessness, nor to see drugs being sold to minors.

For better or worse, Damian had succeeded in turning the business legal, had, in a vicious takeover, conquered his father's old company, and now led a well-known, renowned trading business that reached far beyond Vast Sea City and its limits.

Though Gale smiled. He still personally handled the books for Thousand Flowers Mechanics and pinched the pennies twice before spending them.

The store was their heart and their beginning. Without it, none of them would be anywhere now.

This line of thought brought him back to Yin and the now-retreating Spirit Hall priest, who had apparently noted that he was no longer the biggest predator in the room after Jiang had opted to join Yin and flexed his impressive musculature. The man was a behemoth, dwarfing the Spirit Hall priest that was more in Tang Yin's size category, but unlike her, held none of the sleek muscle. On top of that, Jiang disliked the Spirit Hall with passion. Which he was currently displaying through impressive bloodthirst, seeping out of every pore, combined with his threatening spirit power from Yin.

The man made a wise retreat, and Gale, knowing it was going to be a mistake, made a small, gentle wave of the hand, a cheeky bye-bye.

A quick look at his expression, and Gale knew he had not made a friend. But then he didn't care. Thanks to Damian and the nuns, or those still alive at least, he was better protected than most non-spirit masters would ever be in their entire lives.

"Gale!" Yin shouted, and he was hit by a small grenade, which hugged him tightly with one arm.

"Hey Yin." He said and hugged her back, careful not to touch the stump where her arm was supposed to be. Beneath his hands, he felt the tight muscle of hers that was outwardly more or less invisible.