Jinsei Tan, or Crackle to his friends, of which he no longer had any, tried to liberate the last few drops of precious alcohol from the stubborn rim of his flask with his tongue.

My brother’s been missing a week, my father’s dead, my fiancée was withdrawn, and my father’s company is rapidly circling the drain.

Not all was lost though. Once his brother began selling Jin’s new glass, everyone would want a piece of them.

Better armor, better weapons, and best of all, it was enchantable, unlike so much other tempered glass. With an enchantment, it would be the stuff of kings. The Hash’Maje himself would contract them.

Just a matter of time before we’re riding high again. As soon as Bur fishes himself out of whatever fancy heiress he’s gotten himself into.

Whores were better than an heiress in every respect. Kind, gentle, empathetic, down-to-Marconen, better shape, knew their way around a pole. Every respect. Well, except for money, but I’ll be the one with the money. Maybe I’ll ask Candy to marry me once this all settles down. She seems like a keeper.

It was at this moment, the curtains of his pleasure booth were yanked open, revealing two rather large bouncers. The woman pumping the bellows took this as a sign to be somewhere else, rolling away from him with a rather bouncy spring.

Candy sure is athletic.

Suddenly there was nothing between him and the bouncers, except for his winning smile.

“What can I help you wi-Ack!”

The two bouncers reached forward and hauled him off of his pillow-fort and up to his feet, dragging him out of the booth, naked as the day he was born and hard as a rock.

The excitement wasn’t helping things either.

Outside the booth was the madam of the establishment, a dour-faced foreign woman with steel grey hair, who reminded him a bit of a sand-gulper, but Jim kept that to himself.

In her youth, she’d been incredibly popular due to her exotic features, and had managed to save enough to open her own brothel.

“Ms. Kampfer, lovely to see you.” Jinsei said, strung between two heavily muscled men.

“Your tab is due,” she said staring him in the eye. “Pay up.”

“Well, you see,” Jinsei said, his eyes involuntarily sliding away from hers, “I reinvested most of my money into my business, and It’ll take a while before it comes back around to me again.”

She didn’t look surprised. The madam took a long puff of Murkweed and blew the smoke it in his face, prompting a cough.

“You’ve been a good customer in the past, Jinsei. Never caused trouble, always paid on time. A few of the girls even like you.”

“Really?” Jinsei asked eyebrows raised. “Which ones?”

“Which is why I’m not going to have my boys break your kneecaps.”

“Oh, thank the gods,” Jinsei said, relaxing in the bouncer’s arms.

“But I am taking your fine clothes in lieu of payment for the last week, and I’m blacklisting you from having credit here ever again. From now on, if you walk through my door, you’d better have cash on you, or we’ll revisit the knee-breaking idea, understood?”

Jinsei nodded emphatically.

“Get out of here.”

“What am I supposed to-“ Jinsei started to speak, but the bouncers began dragging him through the brothel at a steady clip, the dim red light giving him glimpse after glimpse of debauchery as he was dragged past the booths.

The second booth from the back showed an Ilethan girl enjoying the company of a man and a woman. Enthusiastically. She cast a blue-eyed gaze over to him and their eyes met for a frozen instant.

She winked.

I could have sworn I saw her at Gina’s Palace like, two hours ago, Jinsei thought as he was dragged past her booth, out through the lobby where scantily clad women were dancing suggestively, and finally to the massive gilded glass door.

Jinsei experienced a moment of weightlessness as he was tossed out of The House of Pleasure, right before his bare skin hit the rough glass of the street, back of his neck heating beneath the sizzling sun.

“So much for that,” Jinsei grunted as he pushed himself to his feet.

Maybe Palla’s Joy Den will take dad’s gilded cigar box in trade, he thought, pushing himself to his feet.

Heat Control.

6/8 Bent remaining.

Jinsei tapped into his Bent and warped the heat around him and down into the enchanted glass of the street, making himself cool even under the sun’s ire.

He straightened up, meeting the eye of passerby with a grin and headed across the street to the Den.

Jinsei had gotten five steps inside when a bouncer’s meaty hand clamped down around his arm. The man was obviously a Veteran, as his grip was like iron.

“Jinsei, fancy seeing you here.” Madam Palla said, from behind the desk beside the entrance. “You look less than dressed.

“A little trouble over at – “

“You’re bankrupt, son.”

“What?”

“Everyone knows you’ve got not a pinch of dust to your name,” she said, her voice seductive despite the coldness behind it.

“I was hoping…barter? My father has a cigar box that-“

“Is it on you?” She asked, frowning and looking down at his less-than-dressed physique.

“Well, no, but-“

“Then no. If you show up without money again, you’ll be blacklisted. Show him out.”

The meaty fist yanked on Jinsei’s arm and spun him around, giving him one last look at the jiggling dancers before he…

Wait a minute.

The exact same young Ilethan woman was sitting on a bench, flirting with a hostess.

Am I going crazy?

She glanced over and winked.

Yep. I’m going crazy. No more Jush for me.

The Den’s bouncer was a lot rougher, and Jinsei did a little tumble before hitting the ground, smacking his face on the street and busting his lip, getting dirt and sand in the wound as he levered himself up to his elbows.

“Not, a great…day.” He muttered to no one as he pushed himself to his feet.

Solutions…The solution was time. His brother would get back, rub elbows with all those fincy types he kept company, sell Jin’s glass, and they would be rich.

What if that doesn’t work? What then?

Maybe…freelance work? No, I owe far too much.

Jinsei could make some trinkets, but it wouldn’t make a dent in the amount his father’s business owed, and if his brother didn’t come back, it meant he owed that money.

I’m screwed. I’ll be an old man shaping children’s toys at the fair for dust at this rate.

Jinsei felt the tears well up, and he crawled into the alley and wrapped his hands around his legs and began to bawl into his knees.

The seedier element of the pleasure quarter didn’t bother him, since he obviously had nothing worth taking, and he spent the next couple minutes simply wasting water into his knees, forced to face the reality of his situation.

It was in the middle of his self-pity that a pair of fine black shoes paused in front of him, attached to a pair of fine legs, sealed into a ridiculous black leather outfit.

That seems like a great way to die of heatstroke… Sexy though. He glanced up, and spotted an exotic, fair skinned girl with wavy black hair looming over him.

A second later she dropped a silk sheet over him, and he clutched it to his chest reflexively, the shame of his nudity finally dawning on him.

“Aww, there, there,” she said sweetly, stooping down to hug him, her breasts squishing into his stubble.

“Are you an angel? I’ve been seeing you everywhere.”

“Nope, just someone with a soft spot for the downtrodden.” She said sweetly, stroking his hair.

Jinsei knew it was a trap. Nobody would show him pity now, but he couldn’t stop himself from blubbering into her chest.

She held him until he calmed down, then guided him to her room at the Sandshrew inn, where they made passionate love, and he bared his heart to her, spilling all his problems into her sympathetic ears.

…

….

……

Which lead to today.

“So this is the place, huh?” a young Malkenrovian spoke, eyeing the Tan manor as several hundred Gadveran soldiers stormed the place. He was maybe two years younger than Jinsei, and had his hands on his hips as he raided Jinsei’s entire family fortune, porting valuable books, furniture and luxury items out of the mansion and loading them into wagons.

“Yep,” Nadia said, ignoring Jinsei as she scanned the mansion, big enough to house a hundred craftsmen in it’s heyday.

“A little small, but plenty of land to expand the compound.” The boy said, nodding. “Absolutely excellent for the speed that you managed to get it.”

“I had to twist a few arms, but nothing serious. Once I worked my way up the chain, I think Murak was happy to liquidate his holdings. To him, it was a toxic debt, seeing as the mansion itself was only worth a fraction of the loan.”

“What are you doing!?” Jinsei shouted, struggling in the grip of the Gadveran soldiers holding his arms. “Nadia! How could you do this?”

“This the guy?” the malkenrovian boy asked.

“Yep, Jinsei Tan, last scion of the Tan family, a talentless hack, according to public opinion.” She gave jinsei an appraising look, and a hint of a smile crossed her lips. “Well, mostly talentless.”

“After that night… What we shared…you said you loved me!”

“You slept with him?” the boy asked.

Nadia shrugged. “So? I’ve been sleeping with whoever I want with my off time. It’s not like I have to worry about family, social status, getting knocked up, getting a disease, getting married, or any of a thousand things that used to matter to me.”

She ticked off each of the things on one of her fingers as she spoke.

The boy’s brows raised, then he tilted his head and shrugged. “Fair enough. Although I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell Kala about your exploits. I don’t need her getting ideas.”

He fished in his vest pocket for a moment, then pulled out an aged piece of paper, showing it to Jinsei. It had his father’s signature, and a lot of zeros on it.

“You know what this is?”

“It’s the loan my father took to stay in business, five years ago.”

“Indeed it is,” The boy said, putting it back in his vest. “And this mansion was collateral, which means it’s my mansion now.”

Jinsei felt his stomach drop, as if the world had fallen out from under him.

“No. this is my home. This is where I grew up!” he shouted, struggling in the hands of the massive soldier holding him still.

“Jinsei. Jinsei!” the boy shouted in Jinsei’s face, catching his attention.

“My name’s Calvin, and it’s my mansion now, there’s no arguing about that, and I’m going to fill it with big, sweaty Gadveran soldiers for the forseeable future.”

“Noooo…” Jinsei cried, tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Now the good news.” Calvin put a hand on Jinsei’s shoulder and forced him to look him in the eye.

“You don’t owe anyone, anything. You could walk out here right now and bring your skills as a glassworker to bear and rebuild your family fortune, if you wanted to. Or even leave, make the trip to Gadvera, Iletha, or Bole. There’s nothing keeping you here, and Master Glassworkers are in high demand.”

Jinsei blinked. The worst had happened. He couldn’t actually lose anything more, and the boy was right. It could only get better.

“Now, a slutty bird told me that you claim to be both a master glassworker, and the inventor of a new technique that will put everyone else to shame.”

“I did say that.” Jinsei said, glaring at the traitor hussy, who grinned back at him.

“Now this is really important, because lying will get you killed.” Calvin said, glaring at him with an intensity that outstripped his age.

How many has this boy killed?

“Were you telling the truth, or were you trying to impress Nadia?”

“…It was the truth. My brother’s better with people, more reliable, so he claims he crafted it, makes it sell better.”

“More reliable?” Calvin asked, raising a brow.

“I’m pretty sure he’s got low Stability and Will, makes him flighty and prone to excess.” Nadia said.

“Nuh-uh!”

“I tracked you through three brothels, until you landed naked in a gutter!”

The massive thug holding Jinsei still chuckled, “At least he’s not a sadistic bitch. I had to stop you from taking that banker’s finger off.”

“I’m sure it seemed like that.”

Calvin seemed to ignore the bickering and focus on Jinsei. “What’s your Mind?” he asked.

“Fourteen.”

“How many Breaks?”

“Two.”

“How many skills?

“Five.”

Calvin clasped Jinsei on either side of his head.

“You are like a raw diamond with a great big flaw, but with the right effort, we can cut around it and polish you into something worthwhile.” The Malkenrovian said with a bit of a crazed look in his eyes, boring into Jinsei’s soul.

“Cutting…doesn’t sound great.” Jinsei said.

“It’s a metaphor.”

He let go of Jinsei’s head and pointed at his father’s workshop.

“Jinsei, I just recently came into possession of a glassworks…How would you like to earn your family home back?”