"So you're saying your meeting with her was just an accident?"
Marsen glanced at Jinx, then back at Logan, and the more he looked, the more something felt… off.
This was weird. Really weird.
First of all—why was Logan suddenly so strong? He'd wiped out the guys Marsen was terrified of in just a few moves. And second—how the hell was Jinx, that terrifying lunatic, actually behaving and sticking close to Logan?
No—wait. Compared to Logan suddenly getting stronger, the truly mind-blowing part was that Jinx was actually listening to him, okay?!
Among the gangs in the Lanes, who didn't know that Zaun's godfather had a blue-haired psychopath under his thumb?
How many gangs, how many chem-barons, how many undercity thugs had gotten themselves killed by that woman? The Firelights had flat-out said she was a maniac, and they'd clashed with her more than once.
And the underworld also whispered that whenever Piltover "up top" had some huge incident, there was an eighty-percent chance that crazy woman was involved.
And now?
That same crazy woman was leaning against Logan's back, calmly pinching a tiny snack between her fingers and popping it into her mouth.
Marsen genuinely couldn't imagine how Logan had pulled off something like this—making a lunatic quiet down.
"Jinx, take her to get a bath first," Logan said. He had no idea what was going through Marsen's head. He just reached back and patted Jinx on the shoulder.
Because the little kid sitting quietly on the couch kept tipping forward, then swaying back, her face screaming I'm about to pass out. Logan checked the time—already past nine at night.
"Give her a bath?" Jinx immediately wanted to argue on reflex, but then—like she remembered something—she actually nodded. "Fine, fine. I'll do it."
As if she'd found something amusing in the idea, she hopped off her stool and waved at the little girl.
"Hey, brat. Come here."
The little girl slid off the couch without a word, tugged her cap lower over her head, and hurried after Jinx.
She moved in like she was about to hug Jinx's leg, but Jinx pressed a hand on top of her head to stop her.
"Don't get that close. I showered yesterday."
The little girl froze, her eyes dimming for a moment.
But then Jinx's next words and the way she moved made the kid's eyes light up again.
"Hey, mute kid—do you like the stuff on me? Here's a secret: these 'tattoos' aren't real. But if you like them, I can draw one on you too. Same style as mine."
Jinx rubbed the cloud design on her abdomen. With a bit of pressure, the pattern faded noticeably.
"I really like drawing."
Then she reached out and scrubbed the little girl's head hard, messing up her damp hair.
Logan, hearing that, immediately looked shocked.
Wait—those were drawn on?
Seriously, Logan hadn't known Jinx's "tattoos" were just painted on. He'd assumed they were real tattoos—because in Zaun, tattoos weren't exactly forbidden. Seeing a kid with a few wasn't strange at all.
But if they were drawn on, that was great.
Logan's expression went a little weird as his thoughts drifted off into the distance.
Honestly, Logan didn't even like tattoos in general. What kind of decent person would want to cosplay Ryze the Rune Mage on their skin?
But temporary tattoo stickers were different. Those were basically a bonus "fun" point.
With Jinx gone, Marsen's courage finally came creeping back. He took a deep breath, then looked straight at Logan.
"Logan. There's something I want to say."
"Go ahead."
"I don't know how you became this strong," Marsen said seriously. He hesitated, then forced the words out. "But Logan… I want to ask you for something."
"I want to work for you."
"Work for me?" Logan understood immediately. He opened his mouth to respond, but Marsen cut in first.
"You saw it yourself. The Blinding Gang is finished. Mark died by your hand, and me? I can't survive in the Lanes alone. Guys like me can only huddle together with others, do whatever it takes just to keep breathing."
"Otherwise we end up as a screw that the people in power tighten and loosen whenever they feel like it. And I'm sick of it, Logan. I'm really sick of that life."
Marsen's good hand went to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as he squeezed out the next words.
"You're different. With the strength you have now, you can take territory. You can stand on your own and become a boss."
Zaun was the kind of place where the bigger your fist, the louder your voice. Money and authority were controlled by one thing:
Power.
"Just me?" Logan frowned. "And you?"
Logan looked at Marsen—and saw streams of emotional energy spilling off him, steadily filling the Spirit Blossom energy bar.
The amount and quality were nowhere near what Jinx had been providing… but it was still far beyond what Logan absorbed from most people.
A thought hit him.
Maybe the more intensely someone directed their emotions at him, the more the Spirit Blossom bar increased?
If that was true, then it wasn't strange that Jinx gave so much.
Jinx was… too "pure."
In her world, there were only three kinds of people: strangers, the dead, and family.
She didn't care about strangers. She couldn't interact with the dead. Which meant the only place she could pour her emotions was family.
Was that why Jinx had become Logan's number-one supporter?
If Logan's guess about the Spirit Blossom bar was right… then maybe Marsen's proposal really was something he needed to think about.
Building a faction meant expanding his influence, increasing the Spirit Blossom bar, and gaining more chances to "descend."
The only reason Logan could sit here safely right now was because of Spirit Blossom. That was his foundation.
If he was right, then yeah—he really should start preparing his own crew.
Because Logan didn't plan on working for Silco. He wasn't going to join Silco's side just because he had a good relationship with Jinx.
But at the same time, Logan also wasn't going to join Piltover like Vi did.
Whether Silco was right or wrong—people argued about it endlessly online. Scroll through a few discussion boards and you'd see posts judging Silco everywhere. Opinions were polarized, but the summary was always the same:
Silco really did want to lead Zaun to reclaim its dignity, but his extreme methods also brought disaster to Zaun. He let the chem-barons oppress the common people. He stared at the distant future, while ignoring the cries for help right beside him.
Yeah. Big shots only looked at "the long term" and "results."
But Logan wasn't a big shot.
He cared more about right now.
Logan lifted his head and sat up straighter, looking at Marsen.
"Tell me your plan, Marsen. I'm listening."
"You're not alone," Marsen said quickly. "You remember Willa and the others? And Manzu. They're still alive. They're out there struggling inside different gangs. I can find them. We'll all be yours—we'll work for you. We can rebuild a new Lanes."
He added seriously, "This whole thing taught me something. Maybe the Firelights were right. We can learn from what they stand for."
"But just having people isn't enough," Logan shook his head.
Zaun didn't lack people willing to risk their lives.
What it lacked was power.
Weapons were what mattered most.
Marsen narrowed his eyes, thinking. "You mean weapons?"
"What else?"
Marsen's expression turned odd. "But… you've already got her, don't you? In Zaun, is there anyone smarter—or a better weapons maker—than her?"
Right.
He had Jinx.
Logan nodded. He told Marsen to gather people first. If the numbers were big enough, Logan would seriously consider it.
Marsen immediately stood up.
"Marsen, your injuries aren't even healed. You're not going to rest for a couple of days?" Logan tried to stop him.
Marsen refused.
His reason was simple:
"No. Logan—did you see the way Powder was looking at me earlier? If I stay here, there's a real chance she comes out at night and puts a bullet in me."
"Powder's changed. She's not that greedy little kid we knew anymore. She's Jinx now—Silco's Jinx. I don't know how you deal with her, but you need to be caref—"
"Enough, Marsen."
Logan cut him off, impatient now, his voice low.
"Powder or Jinx—what does it matter? She's good to me, so I'm good to her. Does it matter what name she uses, who she belongs to, what she's done?"
"Even Vander—Jinx would still love him."
"You can go now. When you've handled it, come back and find me."
Logan didn't feel like explaining further.
He knew Jinx had done a lot of wrong things.
But was Marsen's ass clean?
Was Logan's?
In Zaun, almost nobody's was clean.
Even Vander had made plenty of stupid mistakes.
And besides… there was still time.
If even Vi could forgive Jinx, then who was Marsen to say it couldn't be done?
Marsen looked at Logan, saw how serious he was, swallowed the rest of his words, nodded, and left.
At the same time, up on the second floor around the corner, Jinx—who'd been eavesdropping for a while—heard the first floor go quiet.
She lowered her head and looked at the little kid beside her, now dressed in Jinx's T-shirt. On her tiny body, it looked like a dress, hanging all the way down to her calves.
She was skinny, but Jinx wasn't short either—she was about 164 cm.
The little kid was staring up at her. Jinx made a couple of quiet huffing sounds, then reached out and aggressively messed up the kid's wet hair, stopping her from seeing Jinx's face.
The little girl tried to lift her head harder, not understanding why Jinx suddenly did that.
She was smart—otherwise she never would've escaped from a chem-baron. After just one day together, she'd already learned something:
Jinx only ruffled her hair when she was happy.
And right now, she was ruffling it.
The little girl saw Jinx smiling—gentle, eyes clear—so she opened her mouth too and gave Jinx a grin, revealing the gap where one tooth was missing.
Jinx frowned and put on an annoyed expression.
"That smile is ugly. Where's your front tooth?"
Even as she said it, the hand on the little girl's head rubbed even harder—twice more, like she couldn't stop herself.