Ian’s prediction was slightly off. Long before the sun had even set, the tavern below their inn had already erupted into noise, loud enough to wake the group. "Everyone’s so diligent, starting from the crack of dawn," Ian quipped, sitting on the edge of his bed. As expected, the city was teeming with outsiders. The party had only found rooms on their third attempt, and even then, only the largest and most expensive suite was available. Still, for their group, that was almost preferable. The price was inflated beyond doubt, but Ian’s purse, fattened by merchants, made it no concern. "Let’s go out, Ian. This place seems like it’ll be a lot of fun," Thesaya said, urging him on from the largest bed in the center she had claimed. Her eyes sparkled as she looked out the window, where bustling sounds and flickering lights were spilling. Ian, calmly fastening his gear, answered without looking at her, "You’re staying here, Thesa." "What? Why?" Thesaya’s smile instantly vanished. "We’ll probably be moving through back alleys. I’d rather not deal with problems." "Don’t worry, Ian. I’m not the same fairy I used to be. I’ll just follow you quietly." "That won’t work. Your face is the problem." Ian replied without pausing his movements. "You stand out too much." This was a city crawling with smugglers, drifters, and criminals who lived one day at a time, not to mention drunks. On the main roads, maybe she’d pass unnoticed, but taking Thesaya into the alleys was a guarantee for trouble. And she wasn’t exactly small for a fairy either. A beat later, a smile spread across Thesaya’s face. "So in other words, you mean I’m too pretty, right?" "Wait here with Mukapa. Lucy and I will go." Ian tilted his chin toward the carriage driver without sparing her a glance. "I can’t go, but my sister can?" Thesaya’s brow furrowed again as she turned her head to the other side. Looking at Lucia, who was sitting on the adjacent bed and putting on her own gear, she added, "She’s just as pretty as I am." "Well, about that…" Lucia said with a slightly apologetic smile, picking up the Mask of the Forest Sentinel from her bedside. She also gave a slight wave of the neatly folded cloak beside it. "Ah, right, there’s that." They were perfect for hiding a conspicuous appearance. Thesaya let out a low sigh, her gaze shifting to her crumpled cloak. It was pure white and even embroidered with gold thread, making it incredibly flashy. "Ugh…" Pressing her lips together, she glanced at Lucia with conflicted eyes. She clearly wanted to ask to borrow the mask and cloak, but couldn't bring herself to say it, likely due to her pride as an older sister. "Wouldn’t it be more convenient for you to move with me?" Mukapa asked. He sat cross-legged on the floor, having chosen it over the bed the night before. Why he insisted on sleeping there when a perfectly good bed was a mystery, but Ian only shrugged. "It would. But then those two would be left alone. That worries me more." Not because of danger, but because of the trouble they might cause. Adjusting the straps on his vambrace, Ian added, "Make sure the Elder doesn’t go outside. If anyone starts a fight with you, make them regret it." Though there probably aren’t many brave enough to pick a fight with someone of that size. Mukapa nodded. "I will do so. This city is a lawless area, so please be especially careful." "I will. Don’t worry." Soon, Ian, having finished putting on his gear, stood up. He had left the Cloak of the Undying, as well as the Truesilver Steel sword and the greatsword, leaning against the wall. The same went for the leather belt with Diana’s daggers. There was no need to carry them today. Even if someone started a fight, his fists, clad in plate gauntlets, would be more than enough. Rotating his wrists and ankles, Ian looked at Lucia. "Want to grab a bite before we go?" Lucia, who had already finished putting on her gear and was stretching, shook her head. "I’m fine. We can eat when we get back." She was clearly eager to get outside as soon as possible. The deep green hooded cloak fell over her light leather gear, which she had received from Erenos. As Lucia picked up the mask, Thesaya, who had already brought a wine bottle to her lips, let out a long sigh. Ian, who had let out a chuckle as he walked to the door, said, "Let’s check on the horses, too." With Moro there, there was little to worry about, but still, he thought it best. Pulling up his hood, he stepped into the hall. Lucia, hood pulled low and mask hiding her features, followed close behind as he descended the stairs toward the tavern. "We’ve got nothing to do, so let’s drink all night again!" "Damn right. Gotta drink while you can!" The place was already bustling with people who had started their drinking parties. At the rowdy energy, rarely seen in the major cities of the Empire, the corners of Ian’s mouth curled up slightly. Now this feels familiar. Of course, even so, his gaze was carefully scanning the room. The majority were outsiders, but there were locals mixed in here and there. Finally, Ian’s gaze stopped on a group of men sitting together in a corner. A group that looked like thugs sat there, half-dressed and bristling with blades. Their scarred, tattooed bodies reeked of violence. Are they the ones who keep the peace in this tavern? Ian walked over without a moment’s hesitation. The Vantruian with a scar splitting his upper lip and the one-armed Kurdian sitting next to him didn’t even glance Ian’s way as Ian approached. Finally stopping in front of their table, Ian said, "I have a question for you." At last, the scarred man and the one-armed Kurdian glanced up. The bald one, seated with his back turned, turned around, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell do you think you are, talking to us like…" It was impossible to tell if it was because of the full plate armor, covered in scratches and dents, or Ian’s expressionless, sunken eyes. It was likely both. "What can I do for you, sir?" the bald man finally asked with a reluctant smile after scanning Ian from head to toe and taking in the masked Lucia standing behind him. From his appearance and speech, this one was an Imperial. Are they sitting in order of skin color? Maintaining a straight face despite the absurd thought, Ian said, "Do you know a man named Sanford Plum?" "Sanford? Hmm… Sounds familiar somehow," the bald man hummed lowly, looking at his friends sitting across from him. The scarred man and the one-armed man were also tilting their heads with strange expressions. It was a look that said they knew but were pretending not to. Instead of leaving a handprint on the back of the bald man’s head, Ian took out a silver coin he had prepared beforehand and placed it on the table. "Perhaps this will jog your memory." He didn’t want to make things tiring from the start. Violence was a tool to be used when peaceful methods failed. Without touching the coin, the bald man added, "What business do you have with that fellow?" "I have a debt to collect," Ian replied calmly. He had sensed that the question was meant to create a pretext for answering. Thugs, despite having no loyalty, hated being treated as snitches or traitors more than anything else. "Debts should be repaid. Nothing unusual in that." With a crooked grin, the bald man finally slid the coin toward himself. "You’ll likely find him in one of the gambling dens." "Where are the gambling dens?" The scarred and the one-armed men snickered knowingly while the bald man stroked the coin with a finger, missing its top joint. "There are a few scattered throughout the city." "Then I’d like you to take me there." "I’m afraid I can’t do that, sir," the bald man replied, scratching his chin with the silver coin. Seeing Ian’s brow twitch, he quickly added, "It’s not about the money. The city is divided into territories managed by different organizations. The gambling dens aren’t in our territory." "It wouldn’t be a problem if we went ourselves for a drink, but taking an outsider with us is a different story. And didn’t you say you were going to collect a debt?" Ian let out a short hum. It was unlikely he was just making up excuses. He’d seen the same thing often enough in the frontier and the North. Follow the chain far enough up and you’d reach a city noble, a priest, maybe a guard captain. Perhaps a high-ranking official from the archipelago was behind it all. It wouldn’t be strange if there were many organizations but only one head. Of course, Ian’s gaze remained cold. It was a silent pressure to offer an alternative if he wanted to earn his money. Of course, if none came, he would collect with his fists instead. "Try the beggars," the scarred man cut in. As Ian looked at him, the man added, his scarred lips twitching, "There are guys who go around begging. They’re not bound by territory, and they see a lot. They’ll find the fellow’s location for you." As Ian let out a hum of interest, the scarred man continued, "Of course, it’s not for free, but it’ll be better than wandering around and asking continuously. There aren’t many guys as kind as we are." He wasn’t wrong, especially in these grim back alleys. "Excellent advice. I’ll do that." Ian nodded and finally turned away. As he walked away, the thugs’ laughter-filled voices followed him. "We’ll put this to good use, sir!" Ian let out a low snort and glanced at Lucia. "A good start. We got information without even using our fists." "Indeed," Lucia murmured, though the faint disappointment in her tone was unmistakable. She wasn’t the type to shy away from a good brawl with thugs. "We’ll see how long that lasts," muttering this as if to himself, Ian opened the tavern door. A lively street scene, utterly different from the day, stretched out before them. Torches burned bright, and the streets swarmed with people. Locals were easy to pick out in the crowd. "Everyone’s eyes are sparkling." Some were busy luring passersby, others huddled in dark corners whispering conspiracies, but all of them had that same glitter in their gaze. Unlike the main street, the small alleys branching off to the left and right were shrouded in darkness. The city seemed bright as day in places, which only made the darkness feel deeper still. The true face of this city would be in those shadows. "In any case, it seems not a single smuggling ship has set sail yet. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many people. Maybe sailing is prohibited here, too," Lucia murmured as she walked beside him. "Better for us, isn’t it? At least now we don’t have to worry about missing that captain. Let’s meet him and hear the exact situation." Ian looked at Lucia and tilted his head to the side. Lucia’s gaze shifted to where Ian was pointing. A Vantruian boy, his upper body almost bare, was weaving through the crowd, holding a small pot in both hands. Ian took a silver coin from his pouch and approached the boy. "Spare a coin for your mercy, sir," the beggar boy said, holding out his pot. The motion was smooth, ingrained by habit. Slowly extending his hand over the pot, Ian said, "I’m looking for a man named Sanford Plum. Can you guide me?" The boy, his eyes fixed on the shining silver coin between Ian’s fingers, replied, "I’ve never heard that name, sir." "Ah, is that so? That’s unfortunate, then." Ian shrugged and withdrew his outstretched hand. "But I can help you. Could you give me a few more clues?" "They said he’s in one of the gambling dens." As Ian spoke, the boy’s eyes hardened. "Leave it to me, sir. I’ll find him for you!" "You just said you didn’t know him. How?" "I’m not the only beggar in this city. Besides, I know the streets very well. I’ll take the coin after I’ve found him!" A kid who knows how to make a deal. Ian let out a chuckle and finally nodded. "Fine then. Lead the way." The boy, clutching the pot of coins to his side, spun around. Ian met Lucia’s eyes, shrugged, and followed. The boy, who had pushed his way through the crowd, soon entered a dark alley. Though small lanterns flickered here and there, the surroundings instantly became dark and gloomy. "You have to be careful from here on out. Don’t fall too far behind me," whispered the beggar boy. At his serious expression, Ian swallowed a laugh and nodded. Of course, he wasn't tense at all. The same was true for Lucia, who was following beside him. In fact, her eyes were shining suggestively, as if she were hoping for something to happen. Right, you must be itching for a fight. Ian continued walking. After passing by drunkards and thugs, vagrants and half-dressed women, the beggar boy finally quickened his pace. This update ıs available on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝⚫𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖⚫𝕟𝕖𝕥 Approaching a beggar who was sitting in the gap between two buildings, the boy bent down and whispered something. As Ian stopped at a reasonable distance, Lucia tilted her masked face slightly. "What is he saying?" "He’s asking about Sanford’s whereabouts," Ian replied, not even glancing at the locals in the alley who were eyeing them. "He’s saying he’ll share the money he gets from me if he tells him." "Ah, and do they know anything?" At her subsequent question, Ian tilted his chin instead of answering. The boy was already on his way back. "It seems he’s not in this area. I will take you to the next alley," said the boy. As Ian nodded, the beggar boy, clutching the pot to his chest, retraced his steps and quickened his pace, even faster than when they had come in. Ian followed without a word. He was now certain the boy truly meant to find Sanford for him, and he even found himself liking the kid’s clean way of handling things. After crossing the main street, they soon entered another alley. "Heh heh… cough. Kheh heh…" It was a place where people who were clearly high on something other than alcohol were sprawled everywhere. The complexions of the half-dressed women were also pale. The eyes of those who were walking around sober were also strangely eerie. Do most of the illegal immigrants end up , unable to leave? From the dark recesses of the alley, sharper gazes pricked at them. They were likely the ones who managed this area. Of course, Ian continued walking without paying them any mind. Honestly, he didn't think he would die even if all the criminals in this alley attacked him at once. The boy, who had gone deeper into the alley than before, approached a beggar who was dozing off, leaning against a wall. After a brief whisper, the boy returned with a much brighter expression. "He’s in there, sir."