1 Work in Bandi/Juragan (Halfworlds)
The voice on the phone sounded light. Nothing indicated anger or even any kind of fluctuation in the tone of voice. But Gusti knew that tone. Juragan only used it when he was really angry.
He sighed. It was his fault, he knew, clutching the knife wound on his left bicep. He failed to protect Sarah, which he was sure was some kind of insurance or important figure to Juragan, letting those insufferable duo kidnapped her, even earning the wound in the process. It was only a graze, but it hurt nonetheless, the gaping slash still bleeding sluggishly as he wrapped it tightly with his handkerchief. It’ll have to do for now. Boss didn’t like waiting.
Wiping his hands on his pants, making sure no blood would dirty Juragan’s expensive–looking door, he pushed on the handle and went in. Inside, Juragan stood stiffly behind his mahogany desk. Yeah. You’re fucked, Gusti.
- Part 1 of The Halfworlders