Adam studied the middle-aged pair before glancing at Wallace.

  They know each other.

  Wallace’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Is… is this some kind of joke?” he blurted, then broke into an uneasy laugh.

  “Mind your words, Wallace,” Igor warned sharply.

  “You don’t have the right to speak here,” Bricteva added, her tone cold.

  Wallace’s face twisted. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’re Erik Gilmore? Do you know how long I’ve—”

  “Captain,” Adam cut in with a calm smile. “Please refrain from shouting.”

  Wallace froze mid-sentence. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no more words came out. He simply stood there, staring at Erik Gilmore—his expression a tangle of betrayal and confusion.

  Adam leaned back, fingers drumming against the chipped wooden table as he regarded the duo. “It seems there’s history between you three,” he said lightly.

  Neither Igor nor Bricteva replied. They only smiled.

  “Well,” Adam continued, “I’m sure you’ll settle your business in due time. You know why I’m—”

  “Before we continue, we need to see the crest,” Bricteva interrupted.

  Adam frowned but didn’t argue. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue-black crystal, tossing it across the table. Igor caught it midair.

  The two examined it in silence, their lips moving without sound. Adam glanced at Wallace, who stood rigid, hands clenched into fists, eyes burning with barely contained anger.

  Now I’m curious what really happened between them.

  He could guess some things from Wallace’s outburst, but he was certain there was more beneath the surface.

  “Thank you for your patience,” Bricteva finally said.

  “We appreciate your courtesy,” Igor added. “Still, we can’t speak freely until we see the insignia.”

  Adam chuckled softly and retrieved a white pendant, tossing it toward Igor.

  Igor caught it but didn’t look away from Adam. “Is this really necessary?” he asked.

  “How much more do you intend to test us?” Bricteva pressed.

  With a sigh, Adam reached into his inner pocket and withdrew a silver badge.

  This time, both Igor and Bricteva reacted; eyes widening, breaths quickening, smiles breaking through their composure.

  “Happy?” Adam asked, tossing it to Igor.

  The duo bowed deeply. “Thank you for accepting our request,” Igor said as they straightened.

  “We sincerely apologize for not approaching you upon your arrival in Dratol,” Bricteva added.

  Their gazes shifted toward Wallace. Igor spoke again, voice measured. “Are you certain you want him present for this discussion?”

  Adam followed their gaze. Wallace was already stepping back, fear written across his face. The air had grown cold, Bricteva’s killing intent was unmistakable.

  “Leave him be,” Adam said casually. “I can’t say he’s trustworthy, but I don’t have time to look for another underling.”

  “Are you sure?” Bricteva pressed.

  “He can wait outside,” Adam replied. “Have one of your people keep an eye on him. After all, you already sent someone to distract the man Varidan assigned to tail me.”

  Both Igor and Bricteva froze. Their eyes flickered, and for a moment, neither spoke.

  Adam turned to Wallace. “Captain,” he said evenly, “if you don’t do anything stupid, no one will kill you. Wait outside.”

  Wallace nodded stiffly, too frightened to speak, and hurried out of the tavern.

  Only when the door shut behind him did Adam refocus on the pair. “Tell me,” he said, leaning forward, “what exactly is your role in Vicar’s organization?”

  “We’re merely humble servants,” they said in unison. “We wouldn’t dare claim to work for him directly.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Adam frowned. “You don’t work for Vicar?”

  They shook their heads.

  “Then who do you serve?”

  “We are honored to serve Madam Adelaide,” Bricteva answered.

  Adam’s brows lifted. Adelaide?

  It took him a moment to compose himself. “What about your associates in Varidan? Do they also serve Adelaide?”

  Igor and Bricteva exchanged confused looks.

  So that’s Vicar’s doing, Adam thought.

  “I’m sorry,” Igor said, “but we don’t know what you’re referring to. Our orders were to arrange your admission into Varidan Academy and ensure your stay in Dratol went smoothly.”

  “Beyond that, we can’t speak for other cells,” Bricteva added. “Only those within our organization.”

  “What organization is that?” Adam asked.

  “It’s called the Thieves of the Night,” Igor replied.

  “We finance several guilds throughout Dratol,” Bricteva continued. “About forty percent of the high-end shops near Varidan Academy and The Labyrinth of the Nameless belong to us. We also manage several inns, taverns, and brothels.”

  “The Beggars’ Association works for us as well,” Igor said with a faint smile. “We control most of the city’s information trade.”

  Adam listened in silence. “So why didn’t you approach me when I first arrived?”

  Igor’s smile faded. His lips tightened. “We were threatened,” he said quietly.

  Adam’s gaze sharpened. “By whom?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t divulge that person’s identity,” Bricteva said evenly.

  Adam’s eyes flicked between the two, arms folded across his chest.

  I don’t like this. Vicar must’ve had a hand in it.

  He took a moment to collect his thoughts. “You haven’t told me the most important part,” he said finally. “Why am I supposed to meet you?”

  Igor hesitated. “We don’t know. We were only—”

  Adam slammed his fist against the table, the sound cracking through the silence. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

  Bricteva’s smile faltered. From a hidden pocket, she drew out an envelope. “Master asked us to give you this,” she said, offering it forward.

  Adam took the blue envelope. A soft, peachy fragrance rose from it as he held it to his nose. When he looked up again, Igor and Bricteva had already stepped back, far enough that even if they wanted to, they couldn’t pry.

  He unsealed the letter.

  Adam, if you’re reading this, it means you haven’t died yet. That’s an achievement on your part.

  Adam’s lips twitched. That lunatic wrote this. There’s no way Adelaide penned it herself.

  He kept reading.

  As it’s mandatory for Varidan students to complete missions before graduation, so too is it required to become a full-fledged member of our organization. Hand all mundane tasks to Erik Gilmore, Adelaide trained him well.

  I hope you’ve conquered the demonic half of your soul; its power will be essential in your quest to defeat Korgrath. You’ll be contacted through Erik Gilmore once your first mission is decided. Be careless, and you’ll die.

  This letter will explode when the paper turns red.

  The paper flushed crimson. Adam dropped it immediately. It burst into ash with a muted hiss.

  He frowned, staring at the faint traces of smoke. When did I ever say I wanted to join that lunatic’s group?

  Still, he knew that any task Vicar arranged would be beyond ordinary means, and that he had no choice in the matter.

  Footsteps drew his attention. Igor and Bricteva had returned, bowing low.

  “From this moment onward, we acknowledge you as our leader,” they said in unison. “What are your orders?”

  Adam said nothing for a while, his fingers tapping softly against the table as he thought.

  When he finally spoke, his tone was calm. “I have no interest in personally running your organization. Handle your affairs as you see fit. If I need you, I’ll reach out.”

  He rose to his feet. “Admit Wallace into the organization, I prefer dealing through him. If a message comes for me, send him to Varidan Academy. For now, you may leave. Bring him back; I need a word.”

  Without a word, the pair slipped through the back door. Moments later, Wallace stumbled into the room, his face pale and uncertain.

  “Captain,” Adam said, smiling faintly. “Why are you standing there? Sit down.”

  Wallace hesitated, eyes darting around the tavern.

  “Captain,” Adam repeated, voice calm but firm, “are you really not going to sit?”

  Swallowing hard, Wallace shuffled forward, glancing over his shoulder before easing into the chair.

  Adam chuckled. What exactly did they do to him?

  “Boss… is that really you?” Wallace asked, voice trembling.

  “What nonsense are you spouting?” Adam said with a scoff. “You’ve had too much to drink, haven’t you?”

  Wallace scratched the back of his head, avoiding Adam’s gaze.

  “Feeling guilty, Captain?” Adam asked lightly.

  The words had barely left his lips before Wallace dropped to his knees. “Boss, please don’t kill me! I was wrong!” He slammed his forehead against the table. “I swear, I’ve never seen that much gold before—”

  “So you’re saying it’s my fault for tempting you?” Adam interrupted.

  “Yes!” Wallace blurted, then froze. “No! That’s not what I meant!” His voice cracked. “I didn’t even get the chance to spend it—it was stolen! All of it!”

  Adam’s brow rose. Erik Gilmore again, I’d bet.

  “Boss, please, give me another chance,” Wallace begged. “I’m resourceful, I swear! I won’t let you down again.”

  “People tend to make promises when their lives are on the line,” Adam said, smiling faintly. “Tell me, how is this any different?”

  Wallace looked up, mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out.

  “I’ll give you two choices,” Adam said, hands clasped behind his back. “One; work for me, and I’ll pay you well. Two; walk away now, and I’ll forget everything that happened. Think carefully. If you choose the first option and betray me… there will be consequences.”

  He waited.

  Something tells me he’s not going to pick the smart option.

  “Captain,” he prompted, “your decision?”

  Wallace swallowed hard. “Boss… I’ll work for you. I won’t fail again.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Boss.”

  “Good. Erik Gilmore will tell you what to do.” Adam turned toward the door. “Until next time, take care of yourself, Captain.”

  He left without looking back.

  Wallace watched him go, then slumped to the floor, trembling.

  He let out a shaky laugh. I thought I was going to die.

  After a few deep breaths, he forced himself upright. The world shimmered around him, and suddenly the tavern looked… normal again.

  The regulars were back in their seats, laughing, eating, dancing, drinking without care.

  Wallace gawked. “What the hell…”

  “Oi! Laddie, ya blocking the way.”

  He turned to see Bricteva standing there, wiping a mug with a rag.

  “Are those tears in ya eyes?” she teased. “Did Igor steal your drink again? Come on then, I’ll give you another bottle on the house. You look pitiful, ya fat bastard.”