No hesitation

The short man from before snorted. He didn't reach more than half of Atrox's size, but he still managed to look down on him. "Of course they don't bother to conceal it! Look at yourself! What can you do about it?"

Slya snorted. "That's the truth, though."

Atrox looked at the three of them. They seemed to be the sanest of the entire wing. "So you already know who did it."

It wasn't a question, and they just shrugged. Atrox wasn't angry at that; this was the Borderland, after all. He shouldn't expect the rules of the Clans to apply here. "Very well, then. Will you be witness to what's about to happen?"

Tiber's eyes widened. He didn't think that Atrox had the guts to confront the person. What was he going to do now?

The short man rubbed his hands together. "I am Eron! You should at least know that before you die. And yes, let's go. I must watch this!"

Slya sighed. "Nothing good will come out of this."

But she followed him with the others as Atrox made his way over to his tunnel and began to trace the cart prints and fallen starsalt. It led him two tunnels away from his own. The tunnel between them was unused, but the other one had the sound of pickaxes coming from it.

Atrox hesitated, hefted his pickaxe, then strode inside, picking his way carefully over the rocky ground. The others followed him, and they hadn't gone far before they saw a pile of starsalt.

"Is this yours?" Short man Eron asked.

Atrox shrugged. "Maybe. Come on, we'll know soon enough."

The sound of pickaxes grew closer and closer, mixed with laughter and talking. The glowing walls illuminated the space, and soon they all saw what was happening.

At first, Atrox thought one of the overseers was there because two workers, a man and a woman, were slamming away at the rock while a tall man sat nearby on a rock. Two others stood by his sides, talking and joking.

They must have noticed Atrox and the others, but they simply ignored them. Atrox looked at the situation closely and noticed what was going on. The two workers were obviously being bullied, flinching and cowering whenever the men behind them raised their voices.

Tiber grunted. "It's Torin. I should have expected this. Sorry, Atrox, but there really isn't anything you can do about this."

Slya nodded as well. "Well... he belongs to a gang."

Short man Eron snorted. "I thought I'd be entertained, but it's this guy. A shame, or I'd really see what all your bluster is about, eh, lad!"

"He belongs to a gang?" Atrox smiled, his eyes intense. He knew Torin was watching him out of the corner of his eye, pretending they weren't there. So, he bent down, picked up a rough rock that fit his fist, stood up, drew his hand back, and hurled it.

Not at Torin directly, but at one of his goons. The man wasn't expecting it, much less able to avoid it. Crack! The rock slammed into him full force in the face. The man screamed and fell, clutching his nose as blood dripped.

A shocked silence followed, and Torin turned to him with a face full of surprise and anger. Atrox nodded and said, "I believe you can see us now, right, Torin?"

"What?" Torin bellowed, standing up and grabbing the metal rod by his side. The other goon flanked him, raising a shovel. The two workers cowered and scrambled back, whimpering.

"All that stealing has made your ears just as bad as your eyes. Can you see my presence now?" Atrox asked, the old authority creeping back into his voice.

"Oh, shit," Tiber whispered, then dragged Slya back with him to create space. "We can't involve ourselves with whatever is about to happen."

Slya grumbled and glared but didn't make a move either. Even short man Eron moved back, twisting his beard as he watched with interest.

Atrox was focused on the man. Torin was tall and muscular; he didn't fit the role of a worker at all. He sneered. "You're dead meat, you skinny rat. How dare you come here and try to mess with me?"

Atrox raised his brows and said flatly, "You're a thief, and you want me to knock before entering here? Besides," he nodded at the fallen man trying to stop his bleeding, "I did announce my presence."

Torin clenched his jaw, his muscles flexing. Atrox subtly tensed, waiting for him to attack. But he was a bit taken aback when the man smiled. "Very well. I will honor you. What do you want?"

'So, he wants to play with me like a cat with a mouse? Does he think himself the cat here?'

Atrox smiled with amusement. "Someone stole my pile of starsalt, and I tracked it here," he said simply.

Torin nodded and pretended to be thoughtful. "I see. Well, I didn't do it, but maybe one of my two slaves did."

With that, he aimed a kick in their direction, and the two shouted and scrambled back on the ground in fear. Torin found that funny and laughed out loud. "Ah! They're like rats running away at any slight movement, don't you think so?"

Atrox twitched. He'd once been compared to a rat but nodded and played along. "You're right. So, they're the ones who did it?"

Torin shrugged. "I don't know. Why don't you ask them?"

Atrox did, and the two workers shot Torin a fearful glance before nodding. He sighed. 'So, Torin is trying to use them as a test to see what I'll do? To gauge my reaction?'

He remembered one thing his father used to say: 'Once you decide something, never hesitate. Hesitation is only for when making the decision.'