Black Canary lowered her body and, like a nimble black cat, slipped silently along the edge of the corridor. Her body remained completely hidden in the shadows, and the black bodysuit she had just changed into provided the best possible cover.
Her eyes stayed fixed on the man ahead. Black Canary had been following him for three minutes now, and she was certain he was a drug dealer looking to make a little extra money amid the chaos, not even a professional assassin.
The Penitent Cartel really was running out of people, Black Canary thought, a sly glint appearing in her eyes. After being chased around by those damned drug dealers for so long, it was finally time for revenge.
She moved forward another two light steps and crouched in the shadows around the stairwell corner, tightening her grip on the blade in her hand. She knew that ten steps ahead lay a woman's corpse in a gorgeous gown—the dress she had been wearing earlier, with layered skirts and a heavy Baroque collar.
The dress itself and its accessories were worth some money, but more importantly, this kind of outfit was usually worn only by gamblers participating in the game on the second floor. And the gamblers all held gold coins—real gold.
In fact, this had already caused quite a bit of chaos. More and more people realized that if today ended in utter tragedy, then only the gold coins held by those on the second floor could make up for some of their losses. There had never been any shortage of people willing to fish in troubled waters.
Greed was fine wine. Greed was poison. Black Canary had built her trap around that. She had dressed the corpse in the clothes she had changed out of, making them think