The Foggy Jungle
Three slave carriages moved through the foggy jungle, heading toward the Assassin Club.
Inside the third carriage, the eight Little Robbers sat in silence.
Their moods were terrible. They knew what might happen to them if they became slaves, and none of them knew what awaited them at their destination.
After remaining silent for a long time, Nikolai Volkov finally spoke.
"Hey, guys."
Everyone looked at him.
"I'm really sorry. We're in this situation because of me. It's my fault."
Alaric von Eberhardt shook his head.
"It's okay, Nikolai. This isn't your fault."
He continued in a calm voice.
"Lady Leyi could have sold us as slaves at any time. If it hadn't happened today, it might have happened tomorrow. She had already decided what she wanted to do with us."
Alaric lowered his gaze.
"And she did it. She sold us. This is her fault, not yours."
Matthias Falkenberg suddenly spoke.
"Hey, what will happen if different masters buy us?"
The others looked at him.
"We won't be together anymore. We'll be separated."
His expression darkened.
"I don't want that to happen."
Lucien de Montclair sighed.
"I don't know what will happen to us after we reach the slave market."
He glanced toward the carriage entrance.
"We can't even escape from here because the soldiers are guarding us."
He lowered his head.
"Huh... What a painful situation."
After a moment, Lucien turned toward Nikolai.
"Oh, and I'm sorry, brother Nikolai. I said that everything was your fault, but I was wrong."
He clenched his fists.
"It's also our fault for trusting Suwon."
Aurelius Laurisber nodded.
"Yeah. Nikolai isn't the only one responsible. We all lowered our guard and trusted Suwon Blitz."
Theodor Vandenberg tried to lighten the atmosphere.
"Come on, guys. Let's stay friendly."
He looked around at his friends.
"The past is the past. We should focus on the present and the future. We'll find a way out of this situation."
He smiled faintly.
"If we stay together, we can overcome anything."
Evander Sinclair nodded, although he still looked troubled.
"Even so, I feel terrible about becoming a slave."
Leander von Falkenrath let out a long sigh.
"Huh... However, this might be our last time together."
Everyone turned toward him.
"We're getting close to our destination. We don't know what will happen after that, so I think we should forget about blaming one another."
He looked at each of his friends.
"And don't worry. I'll never forget any of you."
Leander smiled.
"We're friends, and friends make mistakes. That's normal."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then, one after another, the Little Robbers agreed with Leander.
Lucien turned toward Nikolai again.
"Yeah. Friends can make mistakes, so don't feel sad, Nikolai."
He lowered his head.
"We're friends. And I'm sorry for treating you so badly."
Nikolai shook his head.
"No. Please don't apologize. This is my fault."
His eyes moved from one friend to another.
"I'm really happy to have friends like you guys. Thank you for forgiving me."
Leander shook his head again.
"Huh... Nikolai, I already told you that this isn't your fault."
He continued gently.
"You only wanted to meet our little brother, Yein. You didn't know that asking for a holiday would lead to this situation."
He paused.
"And you certainly didn't do it intentionally. So stay positive."
The others nodded in agreement.
Nikolai looked at all of them.
"Thank you, guys."
He took a deep breath.
"No matter what happens, we'll always be friends."
The eight boys remained together inside the moving carriage, holding on to the one thing they still had.
Their friendship.
Yet none of them knew what awaited them at the end of the journey.
---
Assassin Club — The Unusual Client
Meanwhile, Verl Ouzen entered the Assassin Club.
He had disguised himself by wearing a special mask that changed the appearance of his face, making him look like a middle-aged man in his early thirties.
Verl had a particular reason for doing this.
He wanted to discover how people at the Assassin Club treated someone who behaved foolishly, asked questions without understanding the rules, or appeared to be an inexperienced customer.
He had even decided to behave rudely on purpose.
After entering the building, Verl looked around in amazement.
Oh! This place is much bigger than I imagined.
He observed the surroundings for a while before approaching the receptionist.
The receptionist looked at him.
"Do you need something, sir?"
"Ah... May I ask you a few questions?"
"Of course. You can."
"Oh, thank you."
Verl cleared his throat.
"First, are there any Dark Shade Rank assassins available right now?"
"Yes, there are."
The receptionist looked at him.
"Would you like to know the location of one of them?"
"Yes."
The receptionist answered immediately.
"An assassin named Kyling Berg is currently in his personal room. You can visit him there."
"Oh! Thank you!"
Verl turned around and began walking away.
However, before he could leave the reception area, the receptionist stopped him.
"Hey, mister!"
Verl turned back.
"You asked me two questions. Pay two gold coins."
Verl stared at her.
"What?"
He frowned.
"I only asked two questions! How does that cost two gold coins?"
He crossed his arms.
"And nobody told me that I had to pay for asking questions. What are you talking about?"
The receptionist sighed impatiently.
"Ah, shut up, mister. I just want the coins. Give them to me and leave."
Verl's expression changed.
"Why are you demanding money from me like this?"
The receptionist wore a bunny mask and a matching cap. She looked at him for a moment before speaking.
"Looks like I need to be rude to you."
She cracked her knuckles.
"How many days has it been since I last beat someone?"
Verl looked at her in disbelief.
"Don't tell me you're going to fight me. You're just a girl!"
The receptionist suddenly moved.
She drove her knee toward Verl, launching a surprise attack.
Verl managed to block it with his hand, but the impact still caused considerable pain.
"Damn! How much strength do you have?"
The receptionist gave him a mocking look.
"Did you think I attacked you with my full power?"
Before Verl could respond, she launched a rapid series of attacks.
Her movements were so fast that Verl struggled to defend himself. Within seconds, he was overwhelmed.
Several customers and assassins stopped to watch the fight.
Verl noticed them.
Damn it! Everyone is watching me.
I know I'm wearing a disguise, but if this continues, someone might discover who I really am.
The receptionist's name was Miwi Zalmonv.
Miwi delivered a powerful kick that sent Verl flying backward into a wall.
Verl struggled to stand.
She's really strong!
Miwi looked at him with disappointment.
"How weak are you?"
Verl gritted his teeth.
I need to do something.
He rushed toward Miwi and attempted to kick her leg.
However, Miwi easily caught his leg and threw him aside.
Verl crashed against the wall again.
"Ahhh! How is she so strong?"
Miwi sighed.
"Huh... I'm getting bored."
She shook her head.
"Fighting you feels like fighting a child."
Verl's expression darkened.
He refused to accept her insult.
Instead of attacking recklessly again, he changed his fighting style.
"Have you ever heard of a mysterious Chinese man who taught me a martial art?"
Miwi looked at him.
Verl continued.
"I met that man while travelling. He taught me his fighting style because I carried his bag up a mountain."
He paused.
"At the time, I thought learning his martial art was a waste of time. I didn't believe he knew anything particularly useful."
Verl clenched his fists.
"But I was wrong."
"When I used that fighting style against a bear, I managed to injure its leg badly."
He looked directly at Miwi.
"However, I can tell that you're much stronger than that bear."
His gaze sharpened.
"And it seems you know magic, too."
Verl took a fighting stance.
"You've disrespected me countless times. You even indirectly called me a child."
He narrowed his eyes.
"I'll make you take those words back."
Miwi sighed.
"Huh... I don't know why I'm even listening to your story."
She crossed her arms.
"I don't believe in your strange martial art or your ridiculous words."
She looked at Verl with amusement.
"You're just a child who knows how to give long speeches."
However, inside her mind, Miwi was thinking differently.
His fighting spirit has changed.
I can feel it.
Verl suddenly moved.
This time, his attacks were different.
Miwi tried to anticipate his movements, but his unfamiliar fighting style disrupted her predictions.
Verl landed two punches against her face before following up with a kick aimed at her legs.
Miwi briefly lost her balance.
Taking advantage of the opening, Verl drove his knee toward her, forcing her to retreat several steps.
Miwi steadied herself.
"Hmm."
She touched her face.
"Not bad. This is getting interesting."
But before Verl could continue his attack, Miwi reached for her weapon.
A flexible steel rope appeared in her hand.
Verl rushed toward her again.
Miwi swung the rope with precise movements, catching him before he could close the distance.
The rope wrapped around Verl and restrained him.
Verl struggled.
"Huh? What is this?!"
Miwi examined him for a moment.
"Hmm. I like your attitude and your fighting style."
She gave him a small smile.
"You're interesting."
Then she asked an unexpected question.
"Would you like to work with me?"
Verl remained silent.
He already understood that he couldn't defeat Miwi.
Her combat experience was far greater than his, and she had mastered both her weapon and her fighting techniques.
Huh...
If I say no, she'll probably keep me here and beat me again.
And I'm restrained by her weapon. I can't simply walk away.
Before Verl could answer, another voice interrupted them.
"This isn't a fighting arena."
Both of them turned toward the entrance.
Julian Arkwright had arrived.
He approached Miwi and cut through the steel rope with one hand, freeing Verl.
Verl immediately noticed something unusual.
This aura...
It's even stronger than Miwi's.
He looked at Julian.
So this is the difference between them.
Julian turned toward the receptionist.
"Miwi, why are you bullying a new client?"
Miwi returned to her desk.
"I only wanted the payment for his two questions."
Julian looked at her incredulously.
"You fought him over two gold coins?"
He sighed.
"I think you already know that new clients don't understand the Assassin Club's rules."
He continued in a firm voice.
"You're supposed to explain the system to them and establish a good relationship first. Only after that should you ask for payment if they refuse to follow the rules."
Julian paused.
"And you should know that new clients are allowed to ask the receptionist questions without paying on their first day."
Miwi lowered her head.
"I'm sorry, Sir Julian."
Julian looked at her.
"Now, release him completely."
Miwi immediately obeyed.
Julian then turned toward Verl.
"Mr. New Client, there's something you should know."
Verl looked at him.
"You should wear a black face mask or something similar. You don't need to wear a mask that changes your entire appearance."
Verl froze.
What?!
How does he know that I'm wearing a face-changing mask?
He had been careful to disguise himself, yet Julian had identified the trick almost immediately.
Verl quickly answered.
"Yes. I'll be more careful next time."
He bowed his head slightly.
"And thank you for helping me."
Miwi was equally surprised.
Wait... He's wearing a face-changing mask?
She looked at Verl again, realizing that she hadn't known his true appearance either.
After freeing him, Miwi returned to her desk.
However, before Verl could leave, she took a piece of paper and wrote something on it.
She handed it to him.
This time, her expression was unexpectedly kind.
Verl looked down at the paper.
It contained a short message.
Please meet me at 1 a.m.
I promise I won't attack you or force you to do anything.
Verl stared at the message.
What?
She really wants to meet me and talk about something?
He glanced toward Miwi.
Should I trust her or not?
For the first time since entering the Assassin Club, Verl found himself facing a question he couldn't answer easily.
---
The Five-Star Restaurant — Fenhert Greygrious
Meanwhile, Black ViSage had changed his appearance.
He was no longer wearing his usual black knight attire.
Instead, he wore ordinary clothes: a brown overcoat, a brown hat, circular black sunglasses, and a simple black mask that concealed his face.
However, he remained Black ViSage beneath the disguise.
The wedding ceremony between Ashryn Mordelle and Ariya Dukenben had not yet taken place.
Ashryn had simply invited all the Highers of the Nightglass Covenant to a five-star restaurant that he owned.
He had called the gathering because he wanted to discuss something with them.
Meanwhile, Black ViSage was on his way to the restaurant.
As he walked, he thought about the name he would have to use.
Hmm... Today, I'm not Black ViSage.
Today, I'm Fenhert Greygrious.
He sighed.
Huh... This is really irritating.
He adjusted his brown hat.
I hate having to become Fenhert Greygrious.
Nevertheless, he continued toward the restaurant.
After all, Ashryn was his friend, and Black ViSage had already agreed to attend the gathering.
Even if he disliked the name, he would keep his promise.