Vilest Things

I’ll be honest: *Vilest Things* frustrated me in the best way possible. After the breakneck pace of *Foul Lady Fortune*, I expected more of the same—another high-octane game of survival. Instead, Gong forces you to sit with the fallout. The first third is a masterful, *slow* burn of political parrying, where Calla’s paranoia feels like your own. I found myself rewinding Yi’s narration just to catch the subtext in a glance or a paused breath—her performance is *that* layered. When the violence finally erupts, it’s not cathartic; it’s exhausting, because Gong makes you understand the cost of every life taken. That’s the book’s genius: it refuses to let you glamourize revolution. That said, the middle act drags. There’s a stretch where the intrigue loops back on itself, and even Yi’s dynamic voice can’t fully mask the repetition in Calla’s internal debates. And while the magic system remains one of the most inventive in modern fantasy, its rules feel fuzzier here, used more for atmospheric dread than tactical stakes. But the finale? Worth the slog. The last two hours had me gripping my headphones, thanks in part to Yi’s ability to pivot from icy detachment to raw vulnerability in a single line. This isn’t a book for listeners who want easy heroes or neat endings—it’s for those who crave fantasy that *hurts*, in all the right ways.