Dark Town, Kail’s Headquarters
Fyar stared at Kail’s smiling face from across the scratched table.
Fyar leaned his body forward slightly. "Since you said I might get recruited by Martis..." He paused for a moment, letting his words hang in the air.
Kail did not respond, only raising an eyebrow slightly, waiting for Fyar to continue.
Fyar continued, "Tell me what he does... really... maybe it’ll give me some extra motivation to win if I know what I’ll actually be doing later, right?"
Kail leaned back slightly in his chair. He stared at Fyar for a long time, his eyes narrowed, as if trying to read the expression behind the mask. His fingers tapped on the surface of the table with a slow rhythm.
"Thirty gold coins," Fyar said, holding up three fingers.
Kail remained silent.
"Sixty gold coins, or I’ll find out on my own," Fyar said, starting to get up from his chair.
Kail raised his hand, palm open, gesturing for Fyar to sit back down. Once Fyar was seated, Kail gave a light cough and folded his hands on the table. "Don’t tell anyone I told you this, kid."
Fyar gave a slight nod.
Kail began, "aright Where should I start..... What does he do? Heh, hunts criminals here, sometimes hires us for dirty jobs or to kill his business rivals, he’s the one who pays us to cover for his fucking dirty crimes, he even pays some criminals to behave well towards certain people..."
He paused for a moment. "He’s the one who funds the fighting tournament... he funds several businesses here, but well... but if you get in his way he’ll kill you without hesitation and the kingdom or the guards here?! Eh, sometimes Martis pays them to kill you!" Kail gave a wry smile. "He... Lord Martis might also be indirectly keeping this place stable."
"Keeps it stable?" Fyar asked.
Kail nodded. "He’s the one who suppresses the crime rate by telling the citizens to report if they’re bothered by us. We’re very afraid of him. Working with him is probably a small dream for the people here."
Fyar leaned his back against the chair, crossing his arms. "But you guys still commit crimes, right? I doubt you obey him completely."
Kail gave a small laugh. " haha That’s just how it looks!. In fact, we now more often offer ’protection’ to certain businesses for a fee of gold coins. If we’re caught killing someone here, we could be made into slaves and sold to another kingdom. I don’t want that!"
He turns criminals into slaves whoa....this shit geting weird Fyar leaned his body forward slightly. "What do you mean, made into slaves?"
Kail nodded, his expression turning grim. "There were some of my members... a few...," his eyes narrowed and his fists on the table clenched, "who were kidnapped and sold to other kingdoms."
Fyar nodded slowly, his eyes scanning Kail’s body language and reading his facial expression, trying to guess the emotion Kail was feeling. "What did you do when... that happened?"
Kail bit his lip. "What do you expect? Fight him no fucking way! Hahah, I’m not that crazy you know!"
Fyar nodded again. He tilted his head. "Besides slaves... what else does he do?"
Kael sighed "I hear he has connections with several criminal organizations like 000... Whitening... or even kingdoms like the vampire race... dragon race... dwarves... orcs... or demi-humans... or.. maybe..the demon nation..." .
Fyar’s pupils widened slightly when he heard the name 000.
So, there’s a possibility 000 is here... fuck! He maintained his flat expression. "Do you know what makes him have connections with them?"
"I... don’t know." Kail averted his gaze for a moment, then looked back at Fyar. "That’s all I know kid."
He’s lying, Fyar thought. He sighed and asked again, "I have one last question. I’ll give you an extra ten gold coins if you answer it honestly, Kail."
Kail nodded. "Go ahead."
"I’ve never heard of Whitening.... What is that?" Fyar asked.
Kail narrowed his brow and looked at Fyar with surprise. "What? You?... wait, wait.. you don’t know? Seriously? I thought a street person like you would know." He gave a small laugh. "Turns out you’re naive..."
Fyar did not respond.
Kail cleared his throat. "They are an independent organization. They are usually hired to kill, as mercenaries, or to destroy any organization as long as the pay is right. If you see a group of people in white clothes walking toward you kid... Haha, you’re finished you death, finish, done." Kail glanced around the empty room. "According to rumors, they once demanded the life of a king as payment that fucking crazy right?."
yeah indeed thats fucking crazy...So basically there’s still some other bullshit here besides 000... what kind of mission is this, really... Fyar complained internally. He then looked at Kail for a few seconds, his eyes scanning Kail’s expression from behind his mask.
A moment later, Fyar nodded. "I understand."
He then took out a leather pouch from his pocket and threw it onto the table. A heavy clinking of coins was heard. "One hundred gold coins."
"See you on Tuesday." Fyar stood from his seat and walked out of the room.
Sunday night. The Prefect’s Official Residence.
The main hall of the Prefect’s residence was filled with the city’s elite. The room was vast, with white marble floors polished to a shine, reflecting the light from three giant crystal chandeliers on its high, vaulted ceiling. Sturdy stone pillars supported the structure, and on one side, a series of large arched doors opened to a balcony that directly overlooked the sea at night. The air in the room carried the scent of expensive wine and various luxurious dishes served on long tables. In a corner, a few musicians played a calm melody on a harp and flute. The atmosphere there was filled with low chatter and polite smiles.
In one corner, Martis and Magnus Vorlag stood like a center of gravity. They were surrounded by nobles and merchants laughing at their jokes, including Baroness Evangeline who stood near Martis with an adoring gaze.
In another corner, separate and seemingly alone, stood Lord Emeric. The old man just held his glass, staring at the crowd with a tired face. Not far from him, Mr. Valerius and Lady Amara were also in their respective groups, looking isolated.
Illya, in her elegant light blue gown, moved calmly through the crowd. She occasionally stopped to nod or return a greeting, playing her role as an honored guest. Behind her, Zaefal and Rasie followed in silence, their eyes constantly scanning every corner of the room.
After observing Amara, Emeric, and Valerius for a few minutes, Illya gave a nearly imperceptible nod to Zaefal.
Zaefal returned the nod briefly, then moved toward the three individuals. He first approached Lord Emeric. "Sir, Lady Illya would like to discuss a business proposal that might interest you in the library. Please follow me."
Lord Emeric looked surprised. "Illya?" He then nodded hesitantly.
Zaefal then did the same with Mr. Valerius and Lady Amara. One by one, with a few minutes’ interval, the three individuals slipped out of the hall toward the Prefect’s private library.
Inside the library...
The room was silent, The air smelled of old paper and varnished wood. Only a few dim crystal lamps were lit. Rasie stood silently in front of the now-closed entrance, her arms crossed.
Illya was already waiting inside, standing near a large globe. Lord Emeric, Mr. Valerius, and Lady Amara entered, looking at each other awkwardly.
Illya walked slowly to the center of the room. "Thank you for coming." She turned to Emeric, "Lord Emeric," then to Amara, "Lady Amara," and finally to Valerius, "Mr. Valerius." Illya bowed slightly.
After that, she sat in one of the empty chairs and looked at them in turn. "Sirs, my lady, I believe you all share the same fate here. We know your businesses are suffering because of the monopoly at the port."
The three of them looked shocked, glancing at one another.
Illya smiled and continued. "You are all short on funds, your routes are being disrupted, and your businesses are on the verge of bankruptcy. Am I wrong... sirs... my lady?"
The three of them were startled. Lady Amara stared sharply. "How do you know all of that, Lady Illya?"
Illya turned to her, her expression calm, wrapped in a smile. "I am an investor, Lady Amara. It is my duty to know the financial statements of every key player in this city before I invest a single coin. And all of your financial statements... are red."
She paused, letting her words sink in. "I am here to offer the solution: an independent trade alliance, fully funded by the Veyra family."
Lord Emeric shook his head. "This is madness. It’s tantamount to declaring war on Martis. He’ll crush us!"
Illya let out a soft, laugh. "Oh, ’declare war,’ Lord Emeric? Such a dramatic turn of phrase." She placed her glass down, her smile never faltering. "Forgive my forwardness, but isn’t he already crushing you Lord Emeric? My family’s ledgers project that your guilds will be entirely bankrupt within six months." She leaned forward slightly, her voice dropping to a confidential whisper. "This isn’t a declaration of war, sir. This is your only chance to survive one."