Tuesday night. Martis’s private office.
The room was silent, lit only by a few magical lanterns that cast a dim light. Outside the large arched window, the view of the moonlit Tyelven port was laid out.
Magnus Vorlag paced back and forth in front of the large desk, his face red with anger. "Martis, this is crazy! That Veyra girl actually did it! She announced the alliance and cut prices! We’ve already lost three major contracts this morning!!"
Magnus stopped and bit his lip. "She also recruited some of the employees we fired!"
In the corner of the room, a man in black armor stood silently and motionless, his face hidden in the shadows.
Martis did not respond. He just sat in his high-backed chair, calmly swirling the red liquid in the crystal glass in his hand. He looked at Magnus with a cold gaze.
"Are you finished?" Martis finally asked, his voice calm.
Magnus stopped pacing. "Finished? Of course not! We have to destroy them! Burn their warehouses! Sink their ships!"
Martis placed his glass down slowly, the clinking sound of crystal on wood was clear in the quiet room. "You’re acting like an idiot Magnus. Didn’t you think that there’s a possibility they’re deliberately provoking us to attack?"
Magnus raised his eyebrows. "What do you mean?"
Martis leaned forward. "Isn’t it strange how she can be this bold? She comes here and immediately forms an alliance to fight me. Why does she want to invest in my rivals who are on the brink of bankruptcy, and not in me, whose company is clearly superior?" Martis tapped the desk with his index finger. "My reputation has spread to various cities, it’s impossible she doesn’t know. She’s not stupid enough to fight me openly like this." Martis paused for a moment. "Unless she has a plan... or maybe... there’s something behind her."
Martis then turned to his subordinate in black armor in the corner of the room. "We will not attack their businesses or kill them." He paused for a moment, then a thin smile formed on his face. "We will attack their reputation."
He looked back at Magnus. "Let the girl burn her family’s money with a price war. We will not play that game."
He looked back at Magnus. "Let the girl burn her family’s money. We will not play her game." Martis then gave his order. "Magnus, contact our ’friends’ at the Prefect’s office. Starting tomorrow, conduct sudden safety inspections on all ships and warehouses belonging to the ’Silver Wave’. Find any violation, no matter how small. Hold their ships in port for as long as possible."
Magnus was silent before finally nodding. "Yes, good idea, good idea!"
Martis moved his chin slightly. "Now, get out."
Magnus flinched slightly, then bowed to show respect before walking out of the room.
Martis then turned to one of his subordinates in the all-black armor. "Pay the dockworkers’ union. Make sure some important cargo belonging to the ’Silver Wave’ experiences some ’poor handling.’ Crates that are accidentally dropped, goods that get wet... small ’accidents’ that make their clients angry."
The man in the all-black armor just gave a short nod in the shadows.
Martis leaned back in his chair, picking up his glass again. "Within a month, the ’Silver Wave’ will be known as a cheap guild, but unreliable, always late, and its goods are always damaged. The clients will come back to us. Let that Veyra girl sit alone on her useless pile of money."
He sipped his drink. "Now, you may leave."
The man in the black armor bowed respectfully, then walked out of the room, closing the heavy door behind them.
Now only Martis and Nila, the blue-haired Elf girl in all-white clothing who had been standing silently near the wall, remained.
"How was the tournament today?" Martis asked.
Nila nodded. "Everything went smoothly. There were members of Whitening who came to watch."
"I see... that’s good," Martis said curtly. He then drank his wine.
"There is one thing..." Nila said softly.
Martis raised his eyebrows. "One thing?"
Nila took a long sigh and said, "Our members... lost a lot of money on gambling today... because of a mysterious fighter who slaughtered the fighters our members bet on."
Martis gave a small laugh. "They really can’t escape their gambling habit." He shook his head.
"Well, that’s how it is..." Nila said.
Martis ask again, "By the way... Nila... who’s the fighter?"
"He calls himself Starfall Martis. He managed to defeat all the fighters our members bet on. On average, they lost in less than 20 seconds," Nila reported.
"Interesting," Martis murmured. He looked out the window again, at the expanse of stars and the moon. "His level?"
Nila shook her head. "Unknown. Based on the info I got, he’s a Hunter."
"A Hunter..." Martis repeated. He then smiled at Nila. "Who is he fighting tomorrow?"
"He’s fighting the ’Red from the West’," Nila answered.
Martis chuckled. "Place a two-thousand gold coin bet on his name."
"M-Martis, you want to gamble too?" Nila was a little surprised by what Martis said.
"Send Wilas to watch him," Martis said, ignoring Nila’s question.
He let out a long sigh. "I wanted to watch it myself, actually, but tomorrow I have a schedule to meet with the Vampire representative and some of our business partners."
Nila’s face turned a little worried. "I... I think... I think this is the right time to end your cooperation with them, Martis."
Nila was silent for a moment before continuing, "Your legal business is big enough, Martis. You don’t need to do this anymore... you can start a normal life. It’s not too late to leave that world."
Martis’s gaze shifted to the bottle of liquor in front of him. He said in a low, calm voice, "This is the path I chose, Nila. I can’t turn back. I’m already too deep in it."
Nila’s face looked a little sad. "But..."
Martis stood from his seat, walked over to Nila, and gently stroked the blue-haired elf’s hair. "There, there, don’t worry too much."
Nila gave a soft nod. "Alright..."
Martis pinched Nila’s cheeks with both hands, forcing her to smile. "Smile."
Nila, with a thin smile forced by Martis, murmured, "You’re the one who should be smiling, you weirdo."
Tuesday night, after the fight. Dark Town District.
Fyar walked back through the narrow, muddy alleys toward his shabby inn. The roar from the fighting arena slowly faded behind him, replaced by the silence of the alley, broken only by the sound of his footsteps and water dripping from leaky roofs.
When he arrived in front of the Inn, the few thugs who usually loitered by the door now moved aside to let him pass, some of them even bowing their heads slightly.
Even though it’s only been 5 hours... Fyar thought as he continued inside.
Inside the dim tavern, the atmosphere was different. The people who had previously looked at him with suspicion now looked at him with a mixture of respect and fear. Kail, the gang leader, was sitting at his favorite table, surrounded by his men. When he saw Fyar, he raised his glass high with a wide grin. "Woaaaa, kid!!! Good work!!!!!!"
Huh, he’s back already? That was fast. Was it on purpose? Well, it seems he’s quite humble, drinking in a bar like this,
He then gave a short nod in reply, then walked up the stairs to his room.
In his small room, he took off his coat and his white mask, placing them on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed.
Today’s fight went well... Just tomorrow... my opponent is the ’Red from the West’, huh... huff, I’m tired today, Fyar sighed.
Fyar then opened the heavy leather pouch at his waist. The winnings from the bets on his name, Kail’s share, and the prize money. The total was 220 gold coins.
Not bad, not bad... now my money is almost at 800 gold coins... huff, finally... Fyar thought to himself.
He then stood up and began to clean himself. He could feel small bruises on his arms from blocking attacks. Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. Fyar immediately grabbed a dagger from under his pillow, his body on alert.
"Who is it?" he asked, his voice cold.
"It’s me, kid, Kail!" a hoarse voice answered from outside.
"Wait," Fyar said curtly. He then put on his clothes and the mask on his face.
Fyar opened the door slightly. Kail stood there alone, his smile still not gone. He was holding a paper scroll.
"Good work tonight, Starfall," Kail said. "You made me very rich, hahaha."
Fyar didn’t answer, just looked at him.
Kail handed the scroll to Fyar. "This is information on your next opponent in the round of 16. I want you to study it. The next fight won’t be this easy."
Fyar took the scroll. "Who?"
Kail’s smile faded slightly. "His name is Crixus Daviacus, ’The Red Wall’. He’s the champion of the Red Fox Gang. He’s level 16 and is a berserker."
A berserker... I feel this won’t be easy... Fyar’s brow furrowed slightly.
Kail leaned a little closer. "Listen, kid. This guy is a little crazy. He doesn’t dodge. He takes all the hits, then crushes his opponent with a single swing of his giant axe. He’s nicknamed ’The Red Wall’ because the arena is always wet with his opponent’s blood after the fight is over."
Fyar read the information on the scroll: Crixus’s win list, his fighting style, and his weapon.
Berserker... Rage Mode... Strength increases when injured. Attacking him head-on is a stupid idea. Aghhh, it looks like I’ll have to pull an all-nighter today... damn.
"My bet on you will be much bigger in the next fight," Kail said. "Don’t you die, kid!!!,"
Kail patted Fyar’s shoulder once, then turned and left.
Fyar closed his door. He sat back down on the edge of the bed, now staring at the scroll in his hand. The name "Crixus" and his brutal reputation. The silence of his room now felt heavier.