The Price of Truth

The sub-basement air tasted of damp concrete and the metallic tang of stripped wiring, a sharp, suffocating scent that clung to the back of Lin Mei’s throat. She kept the master ledger pressed against her ribs, its weight a grounding, jagged anchor. Ahead, a single fluorescent tube flickered, casting frantic, rhythmic shadows over the three elders waiting in the gloom. They were the remnant of a protection chain systematically dismantled by the Clearing House, their authority now reduced to this forgotten hollow.

“You shouldn't have brought that here,” Elder Wei said, his voice a dry rasp. He didn't look at her face; he stared at the ledger, his gnarled fingers twitching. “The Clearing House tracks the energy

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