Prostitution was a perfectly valid occupation of this new city's state of desperation, in her eyes. And she viewed it with a perspective older than any building which stood. Her discreet grace took her through these winding streets, their triumphs and miseries, with none the wiser of her presence.

Which is, of course, when she spotted precisely the sort of John which a desperate lady might choose to entertain, but would later regret. He was just in control of his imminent misbehavior that many might miss such a foulness of temperament entirely. She missed nothing.

So Ms Chang endeavored to beckon him away from a naive young thing before he noticed her, and proceeded to ruin her night, or more. Everyone was so damned predictable in every environment she had the time to observe, and perhaps that was why such an unsocial creature as she could memorize the steps of every performance, counting down to every motion's appearance.

And as he stepped towards her facade of tolerance, she guided him out of sight, out of mind, even if he were a blundering and obvious monster who stumbled through her streets. Because now, these streets were hers, and so was he.

She spared him, of course, from death, no matter how much she doubted his ability to reform; she levied only the punishments for those crimes he was so very guilty of. She took as much from his carcass as he should be able to survive, and he did ever so resemble the wrong side of a drunken brawl amid his bruises and blood loss. It must have merely been the fire in his veins which led him to act so woozy, for he did not at all appear to have been cut. Maybe a miracle prevented such liberal measures of liquor from ending him right there?

But she indeed endeavored to exercise every ounce of restraint and precision. He would live through the next day, that he might have an opportunity to change. Not that he was truly capable of it, but at least this way, he should prove less capable of causing grief for a few days. She also levied the appropriate monetary fines, and deposited them discretely into the possession of that girl he had almost punished with his repulsive presence. Another ample portion found itself inside the door of a woman whose sister was still rather badly bruised from some unspeakable incident nights passed. The tax collector herself merely retained such a sum as required to cover bureaucratic expenses, in particular, to mend the damage to her left sleeve's crisp white perfection.

And perhaps she hid from sunrise with matters just a bit closer to justice in her corner of the world.