Introduction

"They call her Viper. Whether that's a name or a warning depends on who's telling the story."
No one seems to know where she came from. Some claim she walks the Overworld as a mercenary. Others insist she belongs to the Underworld and only crosses into the light when someone powerful has angered the wrong people. The stories never agree, except on one thing.
If you see the woman in green, someone nearby is about to die.
She's said to move without wasting a step, every motion measured, every strike deliberate. They say she doesn't fight like soldiers do. She hunts. Patiently. Quietly. Like she's already decided how your story ends before you've even noticed her.
The old caravan guards laugh at tales of monsters and demons. They stop laughing when Viper's name is mentioned.
"Fast?" one survivor supposedly muttered. "No... fast is what your eyes tell you afterward. What she is... is already behind you."
Those who claim to have survived describe a tall woman with long black hair that hides one eye, dressed head to toe in emerald armor that shines like polished scales. She carries pistols, knives, and enough poisons that even experienced healers refuse to treat her victims without gloves.
Others swear she doesn't always kill.
Sometimes she leaves one witness alive.
Just one.
Long enough to make sure the next town hears her name.
There are stranger rumors still. That she can disappear into a crowd without changing her pace. That she has walked through fortified keeps without raising an alarm. That nobles, crime lords, and generals have all awakened to find a green serpent carved into their bedroom door—only to be dead before the next sunrise.
Whether any of it is true hardly matters anymore.
The stories have become enough.
Even among seasoned bounty hunters there's an unspoken rule: if the contract mentions a woman in green, return the advance and find work elsewhere.
Because people disappear.
Bodies are found.
But no one remembers seeing her leave.
And that's why, in the border towns at the edge of the Underworld, mothers don't threaten unruly children with monsters.
They whisper only one name.
"Be quiet... or the Viper will know you're here."

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