NOVGO.NET Chapter 39: Be your own Boss
Chapter 39: Be your own Boss
Rain tucked his phone into his hoodie pocket and altered his route across campus, heading toward the broad iron archway of the main gate.
The front entrance was where Nyra had dropped him off after their errands in the city district, the spot where she had added her contact ID to his terminal before pulling away in her worn utility transport. Now, as the towering wrought-iron gates came into view, Rain spotted her standing near the granite guard station, resting her back against the dark stone wall.
Even from fifty yards away, Rain immediately clocked that something was wrong.
Nyra’s usual crisp, calculated posture was gone. Her shoulders were hunched tight, her jaw clenched so hard the muscles along her cheekbones twitched, and her hands were jammed deep into the pockets of her dark grey jacket. Her head was down, her eyes fixed on the gravel beneath her boots, tapping one heel against the stone in a fast, erratic rhythm.
"Nyra," Rain said softly as he closed the distance.
She flinched slightly, her head snapping up. The moment her eyes locked onto his, the thin, rigid composure she appeared to have been fighting to hold completely broke. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her face unusually pale, and a sudden, sharp hitch cut through her breath.
"Rain," she rasped, her voice raspy and strained. She stepped forward, looking around the open plaza as if terrified someone might overhear them, before gesturing toward the shadow of the tall guard stone. "Come over here. Please."
Rain followed her into the quiet alcove behind the granite pillar, out of sight of the campus security officers stationed at the main gates.
"What happened?" Rain asked, keeping his tone calm, steady, and entirely grounded. "My roommate said you came by the dorms earlier."
Nyra pressed the back of her hand against her mouth, taking two shuddering breaths as she tried to force her voice into order. "I didn’t know where else to go. I tried calling, but I couldn’t get through, and I just needed to talk to someone who isn’t going to look at me like a liability."
"Take your time," Rain said quietly, standing three feet away, his arms resting casually at his sides, giving her space without pulling back. "I’m listening."
She let out a harsh, shaky laugh that sounded more like a cough, rubbing her forehead with her thumb. "It’s my sister’s contract. The mortuary board."
Rain remained silent, letting her piece the story together at her own pace.
"You know how I told you that my parents died in a rift breach when I was seven," Nyra said, her words coming out fast and uneven, the sentences tumbling over each other as the pressure inside her spilled out. "My older sister, she raised me after that. She took whatever contract labor she could find on the unshielded side of the lower city. Heavy salvage, raw ore sorting, unpurified dust transport. Dirt-cheap work with zero protective gear. By the time I was twelve, her lungs were completely ruined by mana rot."
She swallowed hard, her fingers clutching the lapels of her jacket so tight her knuckles turned white.
"When she died, I couldn’t afford a standard cemetery plot in the shielded zone. The city push-out zones don’t hold land for poor workers without an active payment contract. I signed a twenty-year deferred burial agreement with a private mortuary service on the unshielded side just to keep her remains in a stabilized plot."
She looked up at Rain, her eyes shining with unshed tears and raw, suffocating exhaustion.
"I fell behind on the quarterly payments two years ago," she whispered. "After I moved away trying to get closer to real fieldwork, I lost track of the interest cycles. Three months ago, the contract board sent a notice to my old residence. They gave me a sixty-day grace period to catch up on the arrears, or they’d dissolve the contract, reclaim the plot, and transfer her remains to the communal furnace."
Rain’s expression softened, a heavy, quiet weight settling into his chest as he listened to her.
"The nine thousand credits," Rain said gently, making the connection. "Your share from the Bone Widow core."
Nyra nodded bitterly, tears finally tracking down her cheeks. "I sent every single credit straight to their financial office yesterday morning. I thought it was enough. I thought it cleared the back interest and bought me another six months to find steady work." She shook her head violently. "They called me yesterday evening. They said because the payment came in forty-eight hours after the grace period closed, a five-thousand-credit late-penalty fee was applied retroactively. The nine thousand only covered the fee and the interest penalty. The primary debt balance is still open."
She wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket, her voice breaking completely. "They gave me forty-eight hours, Rain. Forty-eight hours to pay another four thousand credits, or they cancel the plot reservation on Wednesday morning."
"Four thousand," Rain repeated, his mind instantly running through numbers, balances, and deadlines.
"I tried calling around," Nyra said, her chest heaving as she fought for control. "Guys I’d worked short contracts with before, people who knew I could hold my own. Most of them have already moved on, formed their own tight little crews, three, four man teams that don’t want a fifth cut on the split. And the ones who are still looking for bodies." She let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Half of them won’t run with a woman in the party unless she’s cooking or carrying gear. I got told that twice this afternoon. Nobody’s got room, and nobody’s in a hurry to make room for me."
She stepped closer to Rain, grabbing his forearm with both hands. Her grip was tight, her eyes wide with a mixture of terror and fierce, desperate hope.
"Rain," she said, her voice dropping to an urgent whisper. "Form a party with me."
Rain didn’t move, keeping his posture easy while his mind registered her words. "A party?"
"A real party," Nyra urged, her breath coming fast. "A legal, independent clearing party. Just you and me to start. We register through the municipal portal exchange tomorrow morning. Independent parties get access to low-tier legal rift clearing contracts, D-ranks, basic anomaly sweeps, core reclamation runs. The pay is steady, and nobody’s taking a guild cut off the top!"
She stared into his eyes, her fingers tightening on his sleeve. "You’re strong, Rain. I saw how you moved inside that cave. You have spatial awareness, you don’t panic under pressure, and you actually know how to survive. And I’m a trained scout. I can map terrain, track mana signatures, and spot hazards before we step into them. We can earn four thousand credits in three good runs if we keep all the harvest for ourselves!"
She let go of his arm, stepping back half a pace, her breathing still erratic as she looked at him, waiting for his response.
"I don’t want to beg anyone else for a spot on their roster," she added softly, her voice carrying a quiet, wounded resolve. "I want to be my own boss. And I don’t want to face any of this alone anymore."
Rain stood in the cool afternoon shadow of the guard station, looking down at her.
He felt a deep, genuine wave of sympathy for the girl standing in front of him. Her pain was real, her anger was justified, and her desperation was forged by a system that treated low-rank workers like disposable fuel. He understood the burn of institutional pressure all too well.
But he also knew what was waiting for him tonight at nine o’clock. He knew Corwin, Petrov, Dax, and Reeve were expecting him in the basement of Dorm Block A. He knew he was about to step into an illegal black-market theft operation inside an active rift, standing in for a fake fifty-thousand-credit debt.
He couldn’t take on an independent party contract right this second, not until he saw how tonight played out.
"Nyra," Rain said, his voice warm, low, and completely lacking any trace of pity or judgment. "I hear you. And I want to help you."
Nyra looked up, a flicker of light returning to her eyes.
"I can’t give you a final answer right this minute," Rain continued, resting a light, reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I have a commitment coming up tonight, something I have to clear off my board before I can commit to anything else."
Nyra’s face fell slightly, her shoulders tensing. "Rain, I only have forty-eight hours."
"I know," Rain interrupted smoothly, his thumb pressing lightly against her jacket shoulder in a calm, steady rhythm. "I haven’t forgotten the deadline. Let me handle my business tonight. Tomorrow morning, I will text you my answer. First thing. We will sit down, look at the numbers, and figure out how to handle the four thousand credits. Okay?"
Nyra stared at him for three long seconds. Looking into Rain’s steady eyes, the suffocating terror that had been clutching her throat all afternoon began to loosen its grip. He wasn’t blowing her off. He wasn’t turning her down. He was offering a calm, unshakeable anchor in the middle of her storm.
She let out a long, slow breath, nodding her head once. "Okay. Tomorrow morning."
"Go back to home and rest," Rain said gently, giving her shoulder a firm, supportive squeeze before letting his hand drop. "Get some sleep, Nyra. We’ll talk tomorrow."
"Thank you, Rain," she whispered, her voice sincere and quiet. "Seriously."
She turned, adjusting the collar of her grey jacket, and walked out through the main gates, entered her car and drove toward the city. Rain stood near the granite guard station, watching her car vanish into the afternoon traffic.
He stood there for a long moment, a quiet, genuine sense of goodwill toward her filling his mind. ’Four thousand credits,’ Rain thought as he turned back toward the campus paths. ’If the crate swap tonight goes clean, there might be a way to resolve both problems at once.’