Chapter 35 - [35] The rat king

Navigating through the maze-like corridors of the black market, my nostrils were assaulted by an array of odors. From the tang of exotic spices to the harsh stench of raw leather, and finally the unmistakable scent of rot and damp that the rat beastkin had mentioned. It grew stronger as I neared the north corner of the market.

Arriving at my destination, I spotted a large sewer grate half-hidden behind a stack of wooden crates. With no sign of life around it, one could easily miss it if they were not specifically looking for it.

With a deep breath, I approached the grate. The rotten smell was overwhelming, but I held my composure. With a firm grip, I lifted the heavy iron cover and descended into the dark and dank tunnel, the stench of decay only becoming more prominent as I ventured deeper.

The tunnel opened up into a larger chamber lit dimly by the soft green glow of fungi clinging to the walls. Amidst the filth and grime, sitting on a makeshift throne of discarded items, was the Rat King.

He stood tall like a man, his muscular frame clad in a hodgepodge of scraps that vaguely resembled regal attire. His body was covered in a sleek coat of brown fur, and his face bore a rat's features - sharp, intelligent eyes, a twitching nose, and prominent incisors that peeked out from a manic grin.

"Yo yo, what's up?" His voice boomed throughout the chamber, the gruff, urban dialect a stark contrast to the regal throne and title. The Rat King leaned back on his throne, running a clawed hand through his tufted fur. Chains of gold and silver hung from his neck, glinting in the gloom. His eyes, the color of molten gold, fixed me with an intense gaze.

"Haven't seen you around here before," he continued, his head bobbing to an unheard beat. "Got the guts to walk into my kingdom, eh? Now that's what I like. Straightforwardness. So, what's the deal, man?" His grin widened, the sight of his sharp, yellowed teeth somewhat unnerving.

"I've come seeking information," I responded, matching his confidence with my own.

"Oh, information, huh?" The Rat King chuckled, his laugh echoing off the sewer walls. "And why should I help you?"

"Because if you do," I said, pulling out a small bag of gold, "I think we can make this worth your while."

"You think I am some sort of rat!? There is no way I will rat out anyone!" He flared up. I then pointed m sword at him, his attitude took a 180 turn:

"Whoa whoa whoa, chill, chill!" The Rat King suddenly looked less confident as I pointed my sword at him. He raised his hands in surrender, his eyes wide with shock. The intense swagger was replaced by a slightly panicked stutter. "C-Come on, man, don't do this! We were just getting to know each other, right?"

His rat-like eyes darted around, as if looking for a way out. His usual manic energy seemed to have drained out of him, leaving a desperate creature in its place. "Listen, listen, I just... I was just playing, you know? I didn't mean anything by it, alright?" His words spilled out in a rush, his normal swagger gone.

I kept the sword pointed at him, not easing up in the slightest. "I need information, Rat King," I repeated, my voice firm. "And if you won't give it to me, then I'm sure I can find other ways to get it."

"Alright, alright, fine!" He quickly relented, his hands still up in surrender. "What do you want to know?" His voice shook a little, the first sign of genuine fear I'd seen in him.

"9 Lives." I said.

"Okay, okay, listen up," the Rat King started, his voice considerably less cocky now. "So, there's this cat, right? Goes by the name of 9 Lives. Sly little shit, been a thorn in everyone's side for years. Always finds a way to land on his feet, hence the name. But I digress. He came through here a few days ago, got a hold of this pretty little gemstone, thought he'd struck gold."

He licked his lips nervously, his eyes darting between me and the sword I still held pointed at him. "Now, usually, the auctioneer, old Benny, he'll buy anything if the price is right. But this time, Benny took one look at that jewel and damn near turned white. Said it was too hot, that it was drawing too much attention. He flat out refused to have anything to do with it."

The Rat King paused, glancing at me to gauge my reaction. "9 Lives didn't take it well. Started raving about how he'd find another buyer, that Benny would regret it, all that jazz. That's all I know, man. Honest. Now, can you put that sword away? You're making me nervous..." His voice trailed off, and he gave me a pleading look.

"Where can I find this 9 lives?" I asked. The Rat king replies:

"Man, that's a tough one, ain't it?" The Rat King looked thoughtful for a moment, but I could see the fear in his eyes. He knew that giving up 9 Lives' location might mean his own doom, but the sword at his throat left him little choice. "He don't exactly have a home, ya know? He's a wanderer, always on the move."

He looked down at the ground, apparently gathering his thoughts, then quickly glanced up at me. "But there's one place he's likely to show up... if he's got something to sell and can't move it at the auction, he usually heads down to the Docks. There's a pub there, the Rusty Anchor. Low-lifes, cutthroats, and smugglers... all willing to buy just about anything, no questions asked."

The Rat King swallowed hard, taking a step back. "That's all I got. You find him there, you didn't hear it from me. You never saw me. We clear?"

I threw the 100 gold towards the Rat King, who caught them mid-air with surprising agility. "That's the spirit, boss!" he chortled, his fear seemingly evaporating with the clink of gold.

"Thanks for your business, my man!" His tone had an ironic sort of cheerfulness to it now. "But remember, you never saw me, okay? The Rat King doesn't deal with snitches."

I nodded, letting my gaze linger on him for a moment longer. "Of course, as long as you continue to provide useful information. And for the record," I paused, leaning closer to him, my voice dropping to a low whisper, "if you ever try to double-cross me, you'll be dealing with more than just snitches."

I then straightened up, turned on my heel, and began walking away from him, leaving the Rat King standing there, his grin fading as he watched me disappear into the dimly lit maze of the black market.

Q: Do you know any rats around you?