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Xorn-Sole Boots
The boss was shocked. For years the underground tavern had been a bastion of secrecy for his network, yet here sat a detective, badge of the city watch worn proudly on her uniform. He didn't catch what she said under her breath as she swung her legs up to rest her heavy boots on his desk, strange, slitted eyes staring at him from the heel of each. He shook himself as she spoke again.

"So, you run this place, correct?"

Attempting to regain his typical bravado, the boss said, "And so what if I do, lady? My business is an honest one, if a bit private. I swear it's all in order."

"What makes you think I was here on business? Maybe I just wanted a friendly chat."

"Last lawman to come in here 'not on business' ended up leavin' quiet. If you know what's best, you'll do the same for yourself 'fore it's done for you."

The detective smiled. The boss was used to those sorts of smiles, but only from his associates. It was the smile given to prey before its throat is ripped out.

"This won't be the last time we meet. I feel it in my soul."

And with that, the detective took her feet off the desk and walked out, the boss's guards still too stunned to react properly to her passage. The boss himself was left off-balance; nobody talked to him that way.

As she walked back up the stairs and out of the hidden tavern, the detective smiled again. Through her soles she had felt out the compartment hidden within the desk, and the stack of papers inside. The case would be closed before morning.

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