The first hint of dawn painted the Buckyard sky in muted grays as Annie Charlie wiped the blood-stained knife on the dew-kissed grass. Five fully grown men lay still, a testament to her morning workout. She tucked the blade back into her boot, the familiar weight a comfort. Her clothes were straight, hair perfectly in place, only a few droplets of blood on her hands, none of it her own, betrayed the recent struggle.

“Roselyn will handle it,” she muttered, heading for the back door of Annie Food Store. The dwarf’s supernatural strength was a godsend for such clean-up duties. Inside, the familiar scent of fresh produce and her well-ordered kitchen welcomed her. Everything was as she’d left it, no break-ins. A small victory in a town like Buckyard, where criminals clawed their way up the food chain, preying on small businesses.

Annie moved with practiced efficiency, pulling out carrots and cabbages, the rhythmic chop of the knife a calming rhythm. She liked to prepare vegetables fresh daily, a small ritual in her chaotic life. Though the owner, she often handled this task herself, finding a quiet peace in it before the day’s inevitable storm.

At precisely 8 AM, the front door would open. Her workers would be arriving soon, first Lydia, then Matt, her vampire PA, likely glued to his laptop. Today, like every day, would be a test. And Annie Charlie was always ready.