Page 39 of Corrado

Requests, not always obvious.

Lessons, found between the lines.

They got their point across.

But he still had his pride.

Corrado followed whoever was controlling the doors, and guiding him. His steps were far too slow, and painful. But he pushed through it because if anything, those rooms downstairs taught him he could handle a hell of a lot more than a little bit of pain.

Pain would pass.

Or he would get used to it.

One or the other.

Soon, he started to recognize the corridors, even though the doors to the rooms were still tightly shut as he passed them. Only one—the first room he’d spent any amount of time in when he first arrived at The League—was open.

The knife room.

Corrado stood in the doorway, and watched the man standing about twenty feet from the target blocks. He either didn’t care that Corrado was behind him, or he hadn’t noticed his arrival. Flicking his wrist back, Alessio tossed a knife that spun through the air so fast, it was nothing more than a blur before it embedded itself directly into the middle of the red circle on the target.

“Good shot,” Corrado mumbled.

Alessio didn’t startle at his words, simply glanced over his shoulder with a kind gaze that drifted over him like he was taking him in without judgement or comment. “Takes practice—you’ll learn, too, if you excel in it.”

Huh.

Corrado swallowed the thickness in his throat, managing to ask, “Is letting me out to wander the halls part of the process, too?”

Alessio picked up another knife from the table beside him, but instead of throwing that one, he flipped it over and over in his palm. “Possibly. It all depends on the prospect, and what they need, I think.”

Ah.

Corrado understood.

He didn’t need to be explicitly told.

They were going to kill him down there trying to take from him what he wouldn’t give, and so, someone decided that it was better to compromise. And here he was, out.

“Want to try?” Alessio asked, holding out the knife for Corrado to take.

He didn’t move.

His body hurt too much.

“What happens now?”

Alessio arched a brow. “Phase two.”

“What is—”

“Recovery for a short bit, then the tests begin to find where you excel the most, so they can focus, and hone your skills.”

“Well, all right.”

What could he say to that?

“Corrado.”