"I’ve already done it." Wilas raised his hand, his palm open. He had already anticipated that Martis would be interested in the mysterious fighter, so he took the initiative to conduct an early investigation to save time.
Nila glanced over from where she sat, one eyebrow raised. "It’s rare for you to be so diligent."
Wilas chuckled softly. "I just knew the Boss would be interested in him."
Martis did not shift his gaze from the empty wine glass in his hand. He swirled it slowly. The scrape of the glass against the polished wood was the only sound. "Say it."
Wilas leaned back on the sofa, draping his arm over the backrest. "There’s nothing on him."
Martis’s movement stopped. He placed the glass down with a soft, deliberate click. He lifted his head, his sharp eyes now staring straight at Wilas. His brow furrowed slightly. "Excuse me?"
Wilas sat up straight, leaning forward slightly as if to ensure every word was heard clearly. "He started appearing on April 17th, a Friday. After that, he started a fight with some of Kail’s members. Kail then took an interest and registered him in the tournament to be used for betting. The rest... I don’t think I need to explain."
Nila’s pupils dilated slowly. She glanced at Martis, whose expression showed that he was beginning to realize something.
"Is there no information before April 17th?" Martis asked again, his tone sharper.
Wilas shook his head. "None. There’s no information on his card. And from the information I got after torturing some of Kail’s men... he’s a Hunter. His level and sub-class are unknown." Nila shifted slightly on the plush leather of the sofa at the mention of torture.
Martis was silent. His gaze was distant, staring through the wall in front of him. In his mind, the scattered pieces of information began to move, seeking each other out, and merging to form a vague and provocative picture. The air in the room grew heavy with unspoken tension. Wilas and Nila said nothing, understanding that their leader was on the verge of a discovery.
"Nila." Martis’s voice broke the silence.
Nila flinched slightly. "What is it, Martis?"
"When did Illya Veyra arrive in this city?" Martis asked. The corners of his lips pulled up into a thin smile.
"Illya Veyra arrived in this city on April 17th with three guards," Nila answered curtly.
Martis’s smile widened. "When I met her... how many guards were protecting her?"
"Two, Martis... only two."
A true, predatory smile finally broke through his composed facade. Martis pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, covering the expression he could no longer hide. His eyes narrowed, glinting with the understanding he had just reached. A small tremor shook his shoulders.
"Pst..." A stifled hiss escaped his lips. Then, "Haha... ha..." The laughter began to be heard, soft at first then growing clearer and more unrestrained, echoing in the previously silent room. Wilas and Nila looked at each other. A wordless understanding passed between them: He’s figured it out.
Martis then stood from his chair, his laughter not yet stopping. "Hahaha... sorry, sorry... hahaha! How foolish... how foolish..."
After his breathing returned to normal, Martis sat back down in his chair and looked at his two subordinates. He gave a light cough, clearing his throat. His hand reached for the wine bottle on the table, pouring its contents into his still-empty glass. The dark red liquid gurgled into the crystal.
"I’ve realized something," he said, lifting the glass.
"What have you realized, Martis?" Nila asked.
"For the past few days, I’ve been looking for a reason why Illya Veyra suddenly came here and opposed me. She arrived with three guards on April 17th under the pretext of investing. However, when I met her, she only had two guards."
Wilas leaned forward, his eyes wide. "Boss?! Don’t tell me... you’re theorizing that that person is Illya Veyra’s third guard?"
After taking a sip of his wine, Martis answered, "He also arrived on April 17th. No adventurer card, no clear past, and immediately provoked a fight the day after arriving." Martis paused for a moment before looking at Wilas. "Why do you think that is?"
Wilas furrowed his brow. "To attract... Kail’s attention?"
Martis nodded. "Correct. And he succeeded." He then shifted his gaze to Nila. "And why did he want to attract Kail’s attention?"
Nila thought for a moment, her index finger touching her cheek. "Because... he wanted to join his gang?"
Martis chuckled. "Wrong nila."
"Wrong?" Nila repeated, slightly surprised.
"you stupid nila hahahahahah," Wilas sneered softly.
Nila’s jaw tightened as she shot Wilas an annoyed look. "Shut up!"
Martis continued, "To be registered in the tournament."
Nila frowned, confusion evident on her face. "To register for the tournament? Why would he think Kail would register him, Martis?"
Martis began to tap his finger on the surface of the wooden table, creating a slow, steady rhythm. "Because he knows Kail likes to gamble. He knows a person like Kail would see him as a perfect betting horse. Kail does like to register people for his own profit. And upon seeing that person? Of course, it was a golden opportunity."
His tapping stopped. He then narrowed his eyes slightly. "This person seems to have investigated Dark Town beforehand to know about the people’s habits here. He arrived just a few days before the tournament began. Where did he get that information, and for what purpose?"
The tapping on the table became louder and faster. "Why does he want to join the tournament? Why did he come here? Why does Illya Veyra suddenly want to wage war against me?" Martis laughed again, this time a cold, humorless laugh. "They are weak, but they dare to oppose me... There is something behind them that makes them this bold. An organization that has enough information about this city and wants to destroy me."
"Did 000 or Rituk betray us?" Wilas asked.
Martis shook his head. "Nope, not them." He fell silent, thinking more deeply. After finding the common thread, he held up one finger. "First, the reason that person attracted Kail’s attention was so he could enter the tournament. Why did he want to enter the tournament? Simple. Because he knew it was the only way to join me. And he almost succeeded."
Nila and Wilas listened intently.
Martis held up a second finger. "Second, Illya Veyra came here and openly opposed me. She is not afraid of me killing or attacking her. Illya Veyra sent her third guard to join me through the tournament. For what? To kill me? If so, that would be the most foolish action, is it?"
"So that’s not his goal?" Nila asked.
"No," Martis answered firmly. "His goal is information. He wants to join me to get information about me or the businesses I run."
Martis then looked at Nila and Wilas in turn. "In your opinion, who would benefit from getting information about me? The Vampire race? No, they need my supply of blood. The Dragon race? No, they still need my supply of artifacts and other important businesses. 000, Whitening, or Rituk? No, they all still need resources from me."
He paused for a moment, letting the terrible conclusion hang in the air. "Only one party is greatly disadvantaged by my activities."
Nila and Wilas flinched slightly as they realized who Martis meant.
"The Kingdom..." Wilas murmured. His voice was barely a whisper, the sound swallowed by the thick carpet.
Nila massaged her temples, her expression tense. "W-why only now?! Haven’t we already made an agreement with the King?"
Martis nodded slowly, his face serious. "Only they would dare to oppose me now. They have secretly sent Illya Veyra and her three subordinates to gather information and provoke me." He looked straight at Nila. "The reason why they’re doing it... my theory is because it is no longer the King who is leading."
The faces of Nila and Wilas tightened with shock.
Understanding their doubt, Martis explained, "The King would not take such a risky action. We are bound by an agreement and a magical contract that would kill him if he violates it. Has he died? I don’t know. But if he is dead, our agents in the capital would have already sent word."
"That makes sense..." Nila murmured.
"So, there’s a possibility it’s not the King who’s in control," Wilas concluded, agreeing with Martis’s theory.
"Now, why is he provoking us to attack?" Martis asked them both.
"To create a reason for the Guardians to attack us?" Wilas offered his theory.
Click!
Martis snapped his fingers. "Exactly."
Wilas let out a long sigh and leaned back against the sofa. He looked at Martis. "So... what are we going to do with that person?"
Martis smiled widely, a cold glint in his eyes promising something more than simple retribution. "Oh... I’ve already thought about that. I know exactly what we’re going to do to him."