Baterry blow

Previously

…Kai reached for his wallet, left money on the bar, and stepped into the evening air. Something had shifted. The inspector's glance, the Madam's hard expression, the envelope exchanged behind closed doors — pieces moving on a board he couldn't see clearly yet. He headed home through streets that smelled like exhaust and rain, passing shuttered storefronts and open windows spilling blue television light onto the pavement. Somewhere behind him, the market hummed along, doing what markets do: connecting buyers to sellers, desire to supply, loneliness to commerce. And somewhere in the tangle of transactions and performances and carefully maintained fictions, Kai sensed a thread pulling loose.