Over the next few days, Logan lived a quiet, steady life at home while exchanging messages back and forth with Marsen.
The Entresol wasn't safe anymore either. The Sump was in chaos—small gangs were being driven upward to escape the chem-barons, like big fish eating small fish and small fish eating shrimp. One wave after another. Now the Entresol was packed with people, and the moment those guys came up, they started causing trouble. You could tell just from the fact that, these past few days, you barely saw any Pilties coming down to the Entresol at all.
As for going to the Promenade?
Come on. Bringing Jinx in front of the Enforcers? Even if Logan didn't know how Silco had managed to bury all the things Jinx had done, Logan wasn't about to gamble on it.
The Promenade connected directly to Piltover—cross a bridge and you were in Topside. The Enforcers held the checkpoint right there, and every day they ran patrols and inspections on Zaunites passing through the Promenade. Ridiculous as it was, that was just the reality.
In front of Piltover, Zaun had no voice—and no autonomy either. The Promenade was the clearest example of that.
Which was probably why Silco wanted Zaunites to unite and face outward together.
Getting searched, patted down, having your goods inspected in your own home turf—what the hell kind of situation was that?
And over these few days, Logan also learned the name of the little girl Jinx had picked up.
Her name was Isha—a kid born and raised in the Sump. As for why she'd run to the Entresol… no need to get into the details.
Isha was nine—one year older than Logan had guessed. And she was extremely smart. Just the way she could read an adult's emotions off their face and respond accordingly at her age proved she was more mature and sharper than most kids. Quick as a whip.
And she had a scary kind of talent, too.
The "toys" Jinx made—Logan picked them up and messed with them, and realized he couldn't even figure them out. Because those little gadgets, slapped together from trash and scrap metal, looked crude on the outside… but their internal mechanisms were insanely intricate.
Logan couldn't figure them out.
But Isha could.
Not only could she use them properly—she could even take apart Jinx's "toys" and study how they worked.
And now she was copying Jinx, starting to build her own little gadgets too.
In Jinx's words, weirdos like her and Isha were what real Zaun kids looked like. Logan and Vi were the same kind of idiot—only good at throwing punches, dumb as hell.
A Zaun kid was supposed to learn how to stitch together a future using whatever was around them.
"Jinx, Isha—dinner!" Logan called from the kitchen on the first floor as he carried the food to the table.
They were short on money, so he couldn't buy a lot of seasonings. Still, pan-fried meat patties with a bit of salt and pepper weren't going to taste bad.
For the staple, there was bread—not the Sump kind mixed with sawdust and grit, but a big chunk of wheat bread that had been sitting around a while, tough as a brick.
It was hard and dry to chew, but if you paired it with a rich mushroom soup, it was perfect. Dunk the bread in, let it soften a little, then chase it down with a bite of meat patty—decent dinner.
"Coming!" A high, bright voice rang out from the second floor.
Logan looked up and saw Jinx laughing as she ran ahead barefoot in shorts, with Isha right behind her, arms out, excited. Isha was copying Jinx, barefoot too, with that cool little expression on her face as she chased her.
Even though the house had been cleaned, this was Zaun. No matter how clean you made it, give it half a day and everything got coated in Zaun Gray again.
Jinx's feet were already dusted with blackish grime, and Logan couldn't help looking twice.
Pale. Soft-looking. Rounded toes. That sharp contrast between white skin and black dust—
How to put it…
Contrast like that was seriously great.
"Eh? We're eating this again? Awesome! I like meat!" Jinx hopped up onto a chair, sat cross-legged, grabbed her own foot in her hands, and rocked back and forth while staring at the food with an excited little grin.
Isha, the little mute, was also hilariously supportive—she picked up her knife and fork and shook them. "Ah! Ah!"
Jinx let go of her toes and reached for the meat patty.
"Smack!"
Logan slapped her hand away and stared at her sternly. "Forgot already?"
Jinx hissed, pulling her hand back and blowing on it while she muttered, "So many stupid little rules."
But even as she complained, she didn't actually hate the rules Logan had set for the house. If anything, she was a little happy.
She liked the feeling of being "kept in line," of being "looked after."
It made her feel like she mattered.
So she called Isha over and took the kid to wash their hands.
When they came back to the table, Logan said, "Dig in," and all three of them lowered their heads to eat while chatting.
"Logan, I finished the newest batch of weapons," Jinx said with her mouth full, eating with absolutely zero manners. "No promises on quality. But for shooting idiots, they'll work."
Isha nodded along and made a couple of agreeing sounds.
"And against real gang professionals?" Logan asked.
"Don't make it hard for me, okay? We don't even have decent tools here. You really think I can take junk I picked up from a scrapyard, slap it together, and have it beat weapons other people spent a fortune making? Don't be dumb."
Jinx rolled her eyes at him. "I might be a genius, but you're definitely broke."
She was already doing amazing, alright?
She'd assembled a whole batch of weapons from pure scrap: simple iron launchers that fired sharp metal slugs, grappling hooks that shot out fast (not very accurate, but crazy speed), and rope traps that would snag someone when they hit something after being thrown. The stuff she'd cobbled together was already impressive.
But to take that gear and fight a professional gang, against their proper weapons? For that, she'd have to go back to Silco—because Logan was so broke he couldn't even provide halfway decent materials.
So it wasn't that she sucked.
Logan sucked.
Isha clearly agreed with Jinx. She even hopped down from her chair, ran over to Logan, pulled something out, and handed it to him.
"This is…?" Logan asked.
Jinx explained from the side, "Isha made that. Smoke bomb. See the button on the metal ball? Press it, throw it, and it sprays out a thick cloud of colored paint."
"You can make weapons too?" Logan was genuinely surprised.
He didn't really understand Isha.
In all the Runeterra lore Logan knew—and even in the Twin Cities' war—he'd never seen a character named Isha. He'd briefly wondered if she was someone who showed up in Season 2, but he immediately dismissed the thought.
No way it'd be that perfect.
Still… Logan liked Isha.
She was quiet, smart, considerate—and with her around, Jinx's mental state was better.
Not that Jinx was unstable with Logan. She'd only had two real episodes since he'd been with her. But Logan was an adult; he couldn't truly calm down and play the little games with her the way she wanted.
Isha could. She liked playing with Jinx.
Back and forth like that, Jinx really had become something like a big sister to Isha.
Put it this way: if Logan gave Jinx a sense of safety, then Isha gave her a sense of being understood.
And why did Isha like Jinx so much?
Well… Logan figured, if he'd been through what Isha had as a kid—saved by a pretty, slightly unhinged older girl, then helped with bathing, sleeping together under the same roof… yeah, he'd probably cling to her too.
"That's impressive," Logan said with a smile, reaching out to ruffle Isha's head.
Isha looked up, smiled back, then ran—tap tap tap—back to her seat, climbed onto the chair, and started eating again.
But the moment she got back to the table, Isha froze, staring at her plate.
All that was on it was a chunk of bread with a jagged bite taken out.
"Hm?"
Where's my huge meat patty?
Isha looked at Jinx and saw Jinx turned slightly away, showing only her side profile—her jaw moving as she silently chewed.
"Ah!" Isha instantly realized what happened and reached out to shove Jinx.
Jinx giggled. "That's what you get for running around everywhere. I confiscated your meat patty~"
Logan watched the scene and laughed too.
It felt a little weird, but it was really nice.
In a strange, dangerous environment, with Isha and Jinx beside him, Logan actually felt a hint of "home."
Was the place he used to live "home"?
No. Not really.
Logan smiled and shook his head, then split his own meat patty in half and put it on Isha's plate.
Isha's little angry face immediately softened.
Logan looked at her. "Eat up."
Touched, right?
This household still ran on Logan, obviously.
But then Isha did something that made Logan's smile freeze in place.
She speared half the meat patty with her fork and patted Jinx on the back.
Jinx turned around and looked at her.
Isha tipped her chin up—cool as ever.
Jinx opened her mouth, and Isha fed her the meat.
The little kid beamed, delighted.
And Logan, watching from the side: "???"
What about me?