Chapter 7: Hazard Zone

Without waiting for him to reply, she turned back to her plate, calmly cutting another piece of steak as if nothing had happened. Travis stood there for three agonizing seconds, utterly humiliated, before turning on his heel and retreating to the far side of the hall, his entourage scurrying behind him like startled mice.

Across the booth, Instructor Dan sat frozen, staring at the small, deep slit in the mahogany table, then up at Phoenix, who was happily chewing her food with a contented smile.

Dan slowly reached out, grabbed his glass of water, and took a massive gulp.

​"Miss Wraith," Dan muttered, his voice trembling slightly.

​"Yes, Dan?"

​"I think I'm going to need a stronger drink."

--

The next morning, Phoenix stood in the center of the outer sector’s abandoned courtyard, staring up at her new residence with a slow, appreciative nod.

It was a crumbling, four-story concrete relic with shattered windows, rusty iron fire escapes, and a roof that looked like it had survived a direct mortar strike. The grass had been overtaken by knee-high weeds, and a massive yellow sign bolted to the rusted fence read: HAZARD ZONE – OUT OF BOUNDS FOR ACADEMY PERSONNEL.

"Perfection," Phoenix murmured, breathing in the crisp morning air.

No roommates. No velvet curtains. No scent of suffocating lavender perfume. Just pure, unadulterated, tactical bliss.

She tossed her duffel bag onto the porch, unzipped it, and pulled out a stack of stolen cafeteria steak knives she had liberated during her victory lunch with Instructor Dan. She spent the next twenty minutes happily embedding three tripwires across the front steps, setting up a deadfall trap above the main entrance using a loose piece of concrete header, and sharpening the metal cutlery against a flat stone.

A woman’s home is her castle, Phoenix thought contentedly, testing the tension on a wire that would drop a heavy metal beam onto any unwelcome guest's toes. And my castle is going to be a death trap for uninvited glow-sticks.

Suddenly, the rustling of leaves broke her concentration.

Phoenix’s hand twitched instantly, a sharpened steak knife slipping into her palm with practiced, lethal ease. Her dark brown eyes narrowed, locking onto a clump of overgrown bushes near the broken perimeter fence.

"Show yourself," she called out, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp, dangerous quiet. "You have three seconds before I pin your foot to that oak tree."

"Wait! Wait! Don't throw! I'm unarmed! Well—mostly unarmed!"

The bushes parted, and a young man tumbled out onto the gravel path, scrambling to his feet with his hands held high in the air. He was wearing an oversized cadet uniform, round glasses crooked on his nose, and a messenger bag slung across his chest that was bulging with electronic parts, wires, and glowing blue crystals.

Phoenix didn't lower the knife. "State your name, rank, and why you’re trespassing on my sovereign territory."

"I'm Toby!" the boy squeaked, hastily straightening his glasses. "Toby Lin! Third-year Logistics and Crafting department! E-rank Support Cadet!" He gulped, eyeing the steak knife hovering inches from his face. "I heard someone actually took the outer sector quarters, and I… I came to see if the rumors were true!"

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. "What rumors?"

"That an F-rank Guide broke the academy running record, extorted Instructor Dan for lobster, stabbed a table right next to Lord Travis's hand, and moved into the death-trap building!" Toby’s eyes shone with pure, unadulterated fanboy worship. "You're a legend! The whole lower-rank sector is talking about you!"

Phoenix paused, letting out a small, amused huff. "Word travels fast."

"Are you kidding? Travis's fan club is furious, but all the dregs and washouts think you're a god!" Toby stepped closer, completely oblivious to the tripwire three inches from his boot, before pulling a strange, metallic contraption out of his bag. "I brought a peace offering! It's a localized mana-grid booster! I rigged it from scrapped academy drones. If we hook it to your breaker box, you’ll actually have hot water and electricity!"

Phoenix’s dark brown eyes instantly lit up. Hot water?!

She immediately sheathed the knife back into her belt, stepping forward and clapping Toby on the shoulder with enough force to make his teeth rattle.

"Toby, my boy," Phoenix beamed, pointing toward the front door. "You just earned yourself a permanent seat at my kitchen table. Watch your step on the second step—it drops a cinderblock on your head—and let's go turn this dump into a luxury fortress."

Toby blinked, staring at the terrifying tripwire he had almost stepped on, then back at Phoenix’s radiant, terrifying smile.

"I think," Toby whispered, shivering with equal parts awe and absolute terror, "I'm going to like working for you."