Twilight Street in Marienburg wasn't considered an upscale commercial area. On the contrary, it was a favorite haunt for many mercenaries and merchants. Here, three copper coins could get you the cheapest barley beer, and many workers liked to stop by for a drink before heading home.
As night deepened, the once dense crowd thinned out a bit, and while there were still many people on the street, it was no longer crowded.
Ryan walked step by step down the street, feeling the stares of many people whispering about his clean and neat appearance. The street was very dim, lit only by weak candlelight and magical lights. Many shady characters lurked in the darkness, and seeing Ryan, quite a few began to make their move.
The first to approach was an old man, trembling as he drew near, reaching out to Ryan. "Sir, please help me. I haven't eaten in three days!"
"Whether you've eaten or not is none of my business. Get lost, or don't blame me for being ruthless," Ryan said, squinting his eyes.
"Please, don't be like that. Don't bully an old man, sir... Oh, my legs aren't too steady..." The old man kept moving closer to Ryan, looking like he was going to fall on him due to his frailty.
At the corner of the street, two young and strong men were ready.
If the old man fell on Ryan and Ryan reached out to help, they would rush over, pretending to assist and taking the opportunity to steal from him.
If Ryan pushed him away or dodged, the two young men would use this as an excuse to pull Ryan back, accusing him of bullying the old man and then pickpocketing him.
If Ryan dared to hit him, even better. They would immediately call the patrol guards, acting as "witnesses" to accuse Ryan of bullying the old man, and then negotiate a private settlement to extort him.
However, what happened next was beyond their expectations. Ryan sneered, directly taking off the wig from the old man's head, then grabbing the old man and throwing him into the night sky. The old man disappeared into the darkness before the two young men's astonished eyes, not knowing where he had been thrown.
"Ahhhhh!" Only the scream echoed in the air.
"Hahahaha!" Laughter erupted from the various street vendors and workers around. It was clear that this young man was not to be trifled with and was well-versed in the tricks of the dark. The thieves quickly lost interest in him and started looking for their next easy target.
A passerby was called over by Ryan. "Mr. Falk? What are you doing here?"
"Oh! My goodness, it's you!" Falk, holding a large plate of roasted bread and meat, was so scared he nearly dropped everything. "What brings you to a place like this?"
"What are you doing?" Ryan asked, patting Falk on the shoulder when he saw no one was paying attention.
"My boss is drinking in the bar up ahead. He asked me to get some snacks." Falk quickly explained.
"Interesting. Lead the way, I want to check out the bar too!" Ryan thought it was a good idea and motioned for Falk to lead the way.
"Of course!" Without hesitation, the guard opened the door of a nearby tavern for Ryan.
The tavern was called the Slug Tavern, and its black, rotting wooden sign was polished clean, featuring a large slug logo and a small line indicating it was a bar.
The lighting inside the bar was dim, with only simple candlelight and the sound of whispers. There weren't many people in the bar, with most of the patrons chatting casually with the burly bartender at the counter, venting their frustrations about life.
Under Falk's guidance, Ryan found Oliver drinking alone in a corner. "Mr. Oliver?"
In the corner of the bar, the imperial merchant sat alone in a small booth, his chubby round face illuminated by a candle on the sturdy wooden table, which held two glasses of apple wine and pear wine.
"Mr. Oliver? We meet again!" Ryan appeared before the surprised merchant and gestured for him to be quiet. "Low profile, low profile."
"Mr. Ryan?" Oliver was surprised to see Ryan there, but quickly realized Ryan didn't want to reveal his identity, so he didn't ask much. "Care for a drink? My treat."
"Alright, I'll have an apple wine." Ryan told the waiter, handing over a silver coin. The waiter took the coin and soon returned with three glasses of apple wine without giving any change.
"Huh, so that's how it is?" Ryan was puzzled by the three glasses, while Oliver laughed heartily. "Forgot to tell you, Mr. Ryan, in places like this, if you don't specify, the waiter won't give you change. The amount of money you give determines how much you get. These greedy owners won't give back any coin once it's in their pocket."
"Alright." Ryan picked up a glass. "To our health!"
"To our wallets!" Oliver lifted his large wooden mug.
After a few drinks, paired with freshly baked bread and roasted meat, the two men soon struck up a conversation.
Unlike his confident demeanor at the city hall, Oliver now looked dejected and in a very bad mood. After chatting for a while, Ryan learned that shortly after leaving the banquet, the families of his deceased guards blocked him at the city hall entrance, demanding large compensation. Marienburg merchants valued their reputation, so Oliver had no choice but to pay up, nearly emptying his pockets of every gold coin.
"A heavy loss, Mr. Ryan. You know, this trip to Norsca cost me dearly. Losing the goods was minor because I could offset some of the losses by selling them in Marienburg. But losing so many people on the journey required a large amount of compensation. I can tell you, Mr. Ryan, I worked for nothing this year." Oliver seized the opportunity to pour out his woes to Ryan. "Luckily, I still have my life. At least I didn't lose everything."
"Staying alive is the best business. If you lose money, you can make more, but if you lose your life, there's no saving it." Ryan laughed, and Oliver nodded repeatedly, his gloom lifting a bit. "Yes, yes! Mr. Ryan, you speak the truth!"
"Recently, our emperor won a great victory against the barbarian army. The merchants who lent him money made a fortune. The imperial army seized a lot of gold and silver from the barbarians, creating another chance to make money, which I missed." Oliver became sad again as he spoke, leaning back in his chair in frustration. "Such a big business opportunity right in front of me, and I missed it. The shares have been taken by those big merchants, leaving no chance for me. I lost a lot of money again! Oh, Lady of Fortune, have you abandoned me?"
"Hehe~" Ryan suddenly laughed, taking a big gulp of the apple wine. The quality of the Slug Tavern's apple wine was mediocre, with a sour and astringent taste overpowering the fruit's sweetness. Smacking his lips, Ryan thought that Oliver's failed trading trip was partly due to his own involvement and partly due to Oliver's bad luck. Though Ryan didn't feel guilty, he suddenly thought he could give Oliver a hand. Adjusting his collar, he spoke softly, "But Mr. Oliver, you're going to lose even more next."
"What?!"
"Next, the merchants who supported the emperor's war will make a fortune. They can buy the spoils from His Majesty at a reasonable price, causing the futures market to soar with the emperor's repayment of large sums. Copper and iron prices will also rise, making many merchants rich. Mr. Oliver, due to lack of information, has missed this valuable opportunity and will lose even more." Ryan whispered the harsh truth.
"Oh! No! Don't say that!" Oliver covered his eyes in pain, feeling the wealth slipping through his fingers, the worst thing for a merchant. To a merchant, all potential earnings were theirs to lose.
"You can't sit and wait any longer, my friend. You must act, or you'll lose even more." Ryan whispered suddenly. "The villages of Norsca are in ruins. The abandoned and destroyed towns need rebuilding..."
"Yes... Yes!!!" Oliver immediately understood Ryan's hint, recognizing another huge business opportunity. The imperial merchant smelled gold. "I need to act. I can't just focus on my current losses, or the long-term losses will be even greater."
The candle on the wooden table flickered with Oliver's excitement.
After the initial excitement passed, Oliver was quickly struck by reality again. "But I have a fatal problem, Mr. Ryan. I don't have enough funds. I still have two deals in hand. While taking on the land's reconstruction is lucrative, but..."
"I can lend you some." Ryan's words were like music to Oliver's ears.
"Really?!" Oliver felt the happiness was too sudden.
"I don't like lying, and this is a business partnership. Mr. Oliver, in Norsca, my name carries more weight than many lords' seals." Ryan squinted, a smile on his face. "So this is a deal. You need money and trust from the lords, and I need profit and your business skills. We need each other, right?"
"Your words have won me over. Indeed, Mr. Ryan, I will prove my abilities and business acumen to you." With a clear goal, Oliver lost interest in drinking, eager to start preparing goods and hiring mercenaries. Norsca's ports were about to close for the winter, and he couldn't miss this opportunity.
After finishing their discussion, the two men were about to leave when several women suddenly burst through the tavern door.
These
women wore heavy makeup and revealing clothes, swaying provocatively. The low-grade perfume they wore was particularly nauseating.
They were the streetwalkers of this area.
These women shared a common trait—they weren't pretty. They either had small eyes, high nose bridges, or large mouths, but they still approached Ryan and Oliver, clearly with a plan.
Ryan noticed that the bar's waiters and bartenders showed no reaction to these streetwalkers' arrival, so the women walked right up to Ryan and Oliver. "Gentlemen, need some company for a drink? Or perhaps some companionship to get through the lonely night? Just drinking isn't a good idea!"
"Sorry, I'm not interested. I have a lot of important things to do. Falk? Let's go." Oliver immediately waved his hand, indicating he wasn't interested and needed to gather his men immediately.
"Mr. Ryan, will you join us?" Oliver asked, clearly trying to help him get rid of the streetwalkers.
"No, I'll handle it myself." Ryan waved, signaling Oliver not to worry about him.
"Then Mr. Ryan, see you later!" With that, Oliver hurried away with his guard.
"Hello, ladies. How about I buy three lucky ones a drink?" Ryan's eyes darted around, then he pointed at three streetwalkers. "You, you, and you. You three, stay."
The three streetwalkers sat down, and the waiter took the copper coins from Ryan, serving each a glass of barley beer.
The lead streetwalker was named Sarah. She had large hands and hard facial features, but otherwise, she was passable. "Handsome, are you alone? Calling for three at once, you must be confident in yourself."
"Of course, haha!" Ryan's handsome appearance and clean attire made him stand out in this area.
"Where are you from?" Sarah took a big gulp of barley beer.
"I'm from Altdorf, a merchant. My name is Rod." Ryan said casually. "I'm friends with Mr. Oliver, who just left."
Ryan's appearance wasn't the typical blond, blue-eyed look of a Nord. His black hair and blue eyes were typical of the Empire's core people—the Aachens. The imperial family and some high nobles were Aachens. Ryan's standard Low Gothic accent made his claim of being an Imperial feel natural.
After a few drinks, Ryan suggested moving to a hotel. "I think we can continue our 'chat'. I have a treasure I'd like to show you."
"Oh! Of course!" The streetwalkers were eager for business.
So the group set out to find a hotel.
Ryan's eyes narrowed slightly, sensing a holy white glow in his consciousness.
"Ryan, my champion, what are you doing? Do you truly believe these indulgent people are worth engaging with?" The beautiful figure of the Lady of the Lake appeared in Ryan's mind. Her tone was emotionless yet carried a hint of danger. "Or do you have another purpose?"
"Of course, I have another purpose, my lady. I have no interest in these streetwalkers, but..." Ryan's blue eyes sparkled with confidence.
"I believe that to uncover the connection between the fallen hunter and the Association of Aesthetics, and to understand what the Association truly is, these streetwalkers are key!" Ryan's tone was firm. "Interested in watching, my lady?"
"Interesting. Then I shall witness it all."
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