You don't know?" she asked, swirling her drink. "Ever since the Ragaltha family took control of this town, it's become a breeding ground for prostitution and thieves. And to top it off, the Count himself profits from it. He authorizes the crime."
"Ragaltha family, huh?" Alex muttered.
She let out a dry chuckle. "Fair? Not even close."
Alex took a slow sip from his glass. "What about the inn at the end of the street?"
"Oh, that place? Who hasn't heard about it?" She sighed, pouring herself another drink. "The Count of Ragaltha murdered the owner and his wife. Their two kids are the only ones left, trying to survive by running it on their own."
Alex's gaze darkened. "You're certain it was murder?"
"Without a doubt." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the counter. "Do you want to know why?"
Alex gave a slight nod.
"They refused to let the Count's second son enter with a prostitute."
The glass in Alex's hand cracked slightly. "Seems the Count is a rather… generous man."
"I wanted to help them, but by the time I got there, they were already dead," she said, her voice tinged with regret. "Did you know? They were good people."
She took another deep sip, while Alex barely touched his drink reflecting on his thoughts.
The weak die, crumbling at the feet of the strong. It's always like this. The world isn't a cheerful place—it's survival that matters. Only survival.
The Count killed the innkeepers. He had the authority and power to do it. The righteous sects in Murim do the same, yet they aren't called demons. I fought for myself—yes, I was selfish. But shouldn't everyone be? Greed, lust, pride, love, hunger—whether for its food or power—it doesn't matter what method a person chooses. What matters is staying true to your nature, even if death waits right beside you.
The Count is a sinner. But aren't those children at the inn sinners as well? They take life to sustain their own. Cattle, poultry, game—does the nature of the victim change the weight of the crime? Killing is killing.
My mother… she was slain by that girl's hands. But wasn't the girl simply following her nature? And when I killed her in return, wasn't I doing the same?
…But now? Whenever I think of my mother's death, something stirs within me. A feeling foreign to my past self. Agony. A thirst for revenge. And when I think of that child at the inn… I feel something else.
Pity.
What does that make me?
"You drink well," Alex noted, breaking the silence. "What's your name?"
She smirked. "Finally interested in me? You can call me Mischel."
"Can you tell me when the guild master will return?"
"He'll be back in two days. I told you already—I won't lie, Feng."
"Fine. I believe you."
"Though, why are you so interested in our guild leader?" she asked, tilting her head.
"That's none of your concern," Alex replied flatly.
"Aren't you being a little too secretive?" She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against his skin. "Tell me, or I'll kiss you."
Alex leaned back just enough to maintain distance. "If that's your price, I suppose I'll answer."
Mischel grinned.
"I want to travel to the Dragon Kingdom," Alex admitted. "I need his protection… or rather, the children with me do."
"Oh? So you want my old man to be your personal escort?" she teased, resting her chin on her hand. "You do realize he's not as strong as he once was?"
"I'm not forcing him."
The bottle was empty now.
"You drink too much, Mischel," Alex observed.
"Don't worry… I can handle it just fine," she slurred.
Then, without warning, she slumped forward with a dull
!!thud!!
her head hitting on the table as incoherent mumblings spilled from her lips.
Alex exhaled quietly. "Great. She's completely drunk."
Mischel stirred slightly, her voice no more than a whisper. "I want him… ha ha… but he'll think I'm just a prostitute…"
Alex's expression remained neutral, but inwardly, he sighed. What am I supposed to do with her now?
He stood up, locked the guild's door, and sat back down, resting his elbows on the table.
"Getting some sleep would be best," he muttered to himself.
Leaning back in his chair, he closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion seep in. The quiet hum of the room made it easy to drift off—until Mischel mumbled again, her voice carrying more weight this time.
"I can't tell him… I'm still a virgin… not even older than twenty-two…"
Alex's eyes opened.
For a moment, he simply stared at the ceiling.
Then, after a slow exhale, he closed his eyes again.
"This is going to be troublesome…"