The underground market buzzes with hushed conversations, the scent of spice and old parchment thick in the air. Melon moves through the narrow aisles, his hands tucked into his pockets, eyes scanning the dimly lit stalls filled with rare and exotic goods.

Then, he stops.

Behind thick glass, coiled in the center of an elaborate display, is a blue viper cobra. Its scales glisten under the soft glow of the lanterns, its body relaxed but watchful. The merchant notices Melon’s gaze and steps closer with a knowing smile.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” the merchant says, tapping the glass lightly. “Deadly, too. One bite and—”

Melon holds up a hand, silencing them. His eyes remain on the snake, studying the way it moves, the way it watches.