novelraw Chapter 529
Chapter 529
Is this kid some runaway noble from Demacia?
Vander couldn’t help thinking it as he stacked the single gold ingot back onto the nine Rowan had conjured.
"This isn’t about money," he said seriously. "Those stones came from the upper city. If we don’t return them, it won’t just be trouble for us. It’ll come down on you too."
Rowan smiled faintly. "If that’s how it is, fine."
He swept all ten gold ingots away and handed over the bag of Hextech crystals.
Would returning them really solve anything?
Vander, future crime lord of the Undercity, was sometimes painfully naïve.
The people in Piltover didn’t care about the crystals themselves. They hadn’t even realized their true value yet.
What they cared about was this: Zaunites had dared to steal from the upper city.
That was a challenge.
And challenges had to be punished, or they’d happen again.
Even if Vander returned everything, Piltover wouldn’t let this go.
Which was exactly what Rowan wanted.
Conflict was useful.
Conflict created leverage.
"Thanks," Vander said, visibly relieved. "If you’re staying in Black Lane for a while, come to me if you run into trouble."
By Black Lane rules, a deal was final. No refunds. No forced takebacks.
If Rowan had refused, Vander couldn’t have done anything.
The rules were Vander’s rules.
He couldn’t break his own law.
"I hear the grapefruit rum at the Last Drop is famous," Rowan said casually. "Think I could get a glass?"
Vi and Powder waved at him as he followed Vander inside.
Vander laughed. "Of course. I’ll make you a special one. But it’s strong. You sure you can handle it?"
Rowan grinned. "Don’t underestimate me. I’m legendary at drinking."
Three hours later.
The Last Drop looked like a battlefield.
Vander lay unconscious on a table.
Empty glasses were stacked like a monument beside him.
Across the table, Rowan sat slumped, face flushed, eyes unfocused, but still technically awake.
Vi and Powder gave him matching thumbs-ups.
They had never seen Vander drunk.
Not once.
And this kid had dropped him.
The regulars stared at Rowan like he was a myth.
"Absolute monster," someone muttered.
"Forget fists. This kid wins wars with booze."
Laughter filled the bar.
Rowan’s reputation skyrocketed.
Then the front door was kicked open.
Two figures stepped inside, dressed in sharp blue uniforms and wearing gas masks.
The room went dead silent.
"Enforcers," someone hissed.
Vi swore under her breath and pulled Powder into the crowd.
"Where’s Vander?" the male officer demanded, ripping off his mask.
His voice dripped with contempt.
Several men in the bar reached for their weapons.
"Enough."
The woman beside him raised a hand.
She scanned the room and walked over to the unconscious Vander, frowning.
Her name was Grayson.
Head of Piltover’s Enforcers.
She’d been ordered by the Council to make an example of the thieves who’d hit the Academy District.
Quietly.
Before it turned into another war.
"Vander’s drunk," said Benzo, the shopkeeper, stepping forward. "What do you need?"
"We’re here for suspects," Grayson replied.
The male Enforcer sneered. "Some gutter trash broke into the Academy. Hand them over, or we burn this dump to the ground."
Weapons came out.
A pistol was raised.
"Stop!" Benzo and Grayson shouted at the same time.
Benzo produced the bag of Hextech crystals and handed it over.
"These are what you lost. The kids will be punished. They won’t go back to Piltover. Let’s end it here."
Grayson took the bag.
Then shook her head.
"No. This time, I need the kids."
She met Benzo’s eyes.
"Or next time, I bring the entire Enforcer division."