[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-saya-and-the-dragon":3,"chapter-saya-and-the-dragon-saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-149":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"english","Saya and the Dragon",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},1705136,2177,"Chapter 143: Another Burglary","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-149",149,"\u003Cp>Another night, another opportunity dressed like a harlot and smelling faintly of roasted lamb from dinner.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I’m in the side street now—narrow, quiet, reeking of piss and wilted roses. The kind of place only strays and thieves walk after sunset. Perfect.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The townhouse is three stories, whitewashed, smug. I scouted it this morning while pretending to sell bracelets. Top floor. Balcony door slightly ajar. Some spoiled merchant’s daughter probably airing out her sheets. Or her secrets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I pull the rope from my satchel—if you can call it that. A makeshift line of tied-together silk scarves, stolen over the course of several weeks and knotted tight, with a small bronze hook twisted from an old belt buckle. Looks ridiculous. Works beautifully.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I give it a good swing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Miss. Clatters off the wall like a drunk moth.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I reel it back in. Deep breath. Second swing—clink.Hook catches on the wrought-iron railing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I tug. It holds.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I slip off my sandals—quiet is everything. My bare feet grip the cobbles one last time before I push up, toes finding the first stone hold. Fingers tighten around silk. I start climbing.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Halfway up, I pause, listening.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Nothing. Just the breeze and the sound of some poor bastard snoring in the house next door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My heart’s beating like a drum. Not from fear. From thrill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I reach the balcony, press up against it, one toe hooking the edge, and lean carefully. One hand on the rail. I test the door.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>It opens with a whisper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Alright, Saya. Here we go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I slip inside like a whisper.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Soft rug underfoot, heavy perfume in the air. Definitely someone rich and tasteless lives here. Perfect. I take three careful steps, eyes adjusting—\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And trip over something soft and warm.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ayelpexplodes near my ankle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Dog.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tiny. Furry. Now barking like it found a damn assassin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I freeze, mid-stumble.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Bed sheets rustle. A groan. Then a familiar, cursed voice, heavy with half-sleep and full of regret:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“…Who’s there?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>My stomach drops.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Are youshitting me.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Another voice now—female, young, high-born and half-panting:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“O-Ogdan? What’s going on?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Candles flare. Someone lit a match. I squint.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And there he is.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan, that smug rat-faced scoundrel, half-naked and fully tangled in the silk sheets of some plump merchant’s absurdly young wife. He’s blinking at me with the wide-eyed horror of a man who just realized the woman standing barefoot in his lover’s bedroom isme.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You havegotto be kidding,” I hiss.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Saya?” he croaks, yanking the sheet higher, which doesabsolutely nothingto improve the situation.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl beside him squeals and tries to cover herself. “Who is she?!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Itoldyou about her!” he whispers. “The one with the—uh—dragon problem!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I do not have a dragonproblem,” I snap. “I have ayouproblem.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The tiny dog is now in a full tantrum, trying to chew my ankle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan gestures weakly. “This isn’t what it looks like.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh,Ihope it is,” I say. “Because otherwise I’ve climbed three stories and nearly got mauled by a lapdog for absolutely nothing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The girl gasps. “She’s athief!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Andyou’remarried,” I shoot back.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan tries to sit up, fails, flops back down. “Can wenotdo this now?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I sigh. Loudly. Dramatically.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Relax,” I mutter. “I’m not here for your virtue. Or hers. I was robbing the place. You just happen to be part of the décor.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I turn to leave.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan’s face goes pale, then red. He scrambles off the bed, butt naked except for a dagger and poor decisions, and grabs his sword from the floor.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Saya,sit!” he barks, like I’m one of his damn horses.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I lean against the dresser, arms crossed, grinning wide.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“What are you gonna do, dickhead?” I say sweetly. “Run me through? Here? In her bedroom?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The merchant’s wife gasps, clutching the sheets tighter. “Ogdan—?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I tilt my head toward her. “Andyou, darling—how exactly are you planning to explain a hooker corpse bleeding out on your rugs? Hmm? Intruder? Jealous lover? Former associate? That won’t go over well with your husband's spice syndicate.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan hesitates. Sword still in hand, but shaking a little.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I step forward. “And what if I scream?” I whisper. “Loud. From the balcony. Wake the neighbors. Get thecity guardsto storm in here and find us likethis? You, bare-assed. Her, dripping guilt. Me, tied to the railing with a thief’s rope still swinging?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His hand tightens on the hilt.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I take another step, toe ring glinting in the candlelight. “Don’t be dumb, Ogdan. Ihaveblackmailing potential. And I’m feelingveryentrepreneurial tonight.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A long, brittle silence.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then I hold out my hand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Off with the jewelry,” I say cheerfully. “And that pretty little sun medallion you keep pretending isn’t from a knight you didn’t stab in the back.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He blinks. “That’s a family heirloom—”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Off.” I say.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The wife starts fumbling with her bracelets. Ogdan sighs, defeated, and unclasps the chain.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Quick now,” I snap. “Or Iwillstart screaming. You know I can beveryconvincing.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He drops the medallion into my hand. I wink.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Thank you, sweetheart. You’ve been sogenerous.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The merchant’s wife is still clutching the sheets, eyes wide, mouth trying to form words that just won’t come.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I flash her a grin full of teeth and sin.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Now, sweet cheeks…” I purr, tapping the sun medallion against my chin, “where do you keep thegoodstuff?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>She stammers, points with a trembling hand toward a wardrobe carved with doves and bad taste.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Bless you,” I say, already moving.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I throw open the doors—jackpot. Coin pouch. Gem-studded comb. Velvet box full of brooches shaped like birds mid-orgasm. A silk sash heavy with embroidered gold thread. I take it all. Even the little polished mirror. I want to see how fabulous I look while looting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Ogdan groans into his hands. The wife starts sobbing about curses. I ignore them both.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>One last look around—nothing left worth taking but the bedsheets and regrets.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>I toss them a wink, blow a kiss just to be petty, and climb back over the balcony like a goddess of petty vengeance and fine accessory theft.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Rope in hand. Slide down. Barefoot hit the cobbles with a slap.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And Icackle.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Loud. Joyful. Completely unhinged.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>This wasn’t just a score. This wasart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Coins in my bag, medallion at my neck, and that smug bastard Ogdan wishing he’d never dropped his pants in this town.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Pure bliss.\u003C\u002Fp>",1043,"2026-06-06T14:39:25.900Z",1,"novelbin.me","2b4f973979f60028591681c07f5d86890083810c335d76246f870fa2a614d784","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-150","saya-and-the-dragon-chapter-148",228,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fsaya-and-the-dragon-cover.jpg"]