The Wastrel Prince Becomes Ruthless

Chapter 139

Chapter 139

A flower blooming in the desert, and an oasis. Valaris, the most prosperous territory in the southern part of the Aphahiel Empire. Representing the South, Valaris was one of the great cities that ranked within the top ten of the Empire.

With the desert above and the Great Jungle below, Valaris was, in truth, not an environment particularly suited for human habitation. However, the other southern cities were not much different in that regard, and under the mission of protecting the Empire from the monstrous creatures of the Great Jungle, Valaris established itself as the city representing the South.

Where there was light, there was also darkness. As was the case everywhere in the world, where people gathered, money flowed, and Valaris was no different. Where people gathered, money gathered as well, and once money gathered, filthy fellows who could smell it swarmed in.

People and money attracted filthy people, and once filthy people gathered, filthy money was born. Money earned through dishonest means required a market befitting it, and thus the filthy money that accumulated naturally gave rise to a foul-smelling market.

The place created that way was the stolen goods market tucked away in the back alleys on the outskirts of Valaris’s bustling district. In the dark of night, Hastings was trudging along that road alone.

‘If Master left something behind for the next Raven, there’s no way it can be found through ordinary means.’

Shadow Marcellus, who had spent his entire life posing as a double agent while guarding the Fifth Prince’s side. As far as Hastings knew, his master Marcellus was a man who lived as if he kept a hundred serpents coiled inside him.

‘If I were Master… would I hide a jewel among other jewels, or hide it in a cesspit?’

Logically, it seemed he would have hidden a jewel among jewels, but for some reason, psychologically, his heart was drawn to the latter.

‘Fine. This time, I’ll trust my intuition.’

In the end, Hastings stepped first into the filthiest cesspit in all of Valaris. And so, when less than two hours had passed since Hastings began wandering aimlessly through Valaris’s back alleys—

“Hey, mister.”

“…?”

A gang of thugs appeared in front of Hastings. Filthy places naturally gathered filthy people.

“I don’t know if you even know where you walked into, but you took a wrong turn. Before you get into something ugly somewhere, pay us the toll and quietly head back.”

“Are you talking to me right now?”

“Then who else is here besides you?”

They were the type who had likely fleeced more than a few people just by having those hulking bronze-colored muscular bodies and carrying swords at their waists, but today, they had picked the wrong opponent. Even if a thousand back-alley thugs like them rushed in, they would not be a match for Hastings.

“Hm… judging by your level, it doesn’t look like you know much… Well, starting from the bottom and digging upward isn’t a bad idea either.”

The words and tone looked down on them from far above. The pups who couldn’t even recognize the difference in their levels bristled at Hastings’s remark and finally drew their blades.

“What the hell is this bastard saying when I was trying to let him off easy? I was just going to scare him a bit and send him back…!”

Perhaps feeling insulted, the one who looked like the leader of the gang flew into a rage and drew his sword.

Chang—! Chaejaeng!

With a harsh clang, a curved blade was drawn and pointed at Hastings. Seeing the clumsy way he held the sword, Hastings merely formed an emotionless smile beneath the robe he wore pulled low.

“If you’ve drawn your sword, you should try swinging it. What are you doing? Why aren’t you coming?”

“You little…! Who do you think you’re looking down on…! What are you standing around for! Beat him until he’s not dead!”

Provoked by Hastings, the thugs charged all at once.

“Uwoooah—!”

And about two minutes later.

“W-we should’ve… told you earlier… To not recognize such a noble person….”

The assailants, now beaten to a pulp, knelt in a row before Hastings. From the start, punks who strutted around market back alleys with a single sword at their waist could never be Hastings’s match.

“From now on, you only answer what I ask.”

“Y-yes! Big brother! We dared to run wild without knowing our place, yet you looked upon us so kindly, we’re truly grateful! Please, ask anything! I’ll report everything I know in as much detail as possible!”

Even if they lacked the skill to live by the blade, they seemed to have survived quite well on reading the room. The leader of the gang saved both his own life and those of his subordinates with an appropriate response.

“Who are you under.”

“Um… are you asking which organization we work for?”

“Yes. This place must be someone’s business ground too. Though calling fleecing people in the back alleys a business is a bit much.”

“Well, that’s… we don’t really have anything like that… we just… kind of band together and move around on our own….”

At the nonsensical answer, Hastings’s expression twisted.

“What? You expect me to believe that?”

“I-it’s really true! As you can see for yourself, big brother, we honestly don’t have the skills to survive properly in this line of work… so, like you said earlier, we avoid the eyes of the groups who truly see this place as a business and occasionally target people who look like outsiders… no, I mean, take a little money… th-that’s what we do.”

He didn’t seem to be lying. Hastings, who had been putting on an act of anger, withdrew it.

“So you’re saying you just earn pocket money off outsiders.”

“Y-yes! Yes!”

“Hmmm… Thugs wouldn’t be the type to just let other groups take bites out of their business territory….”

“Big brother, may I say something?”

Perhaps because the places he’d been hit hurt badly, he was now answering smoothly even without being asked.

“Go on.”

“It’s just that, big brother doesn’t seem like someone who makes a living off this kind of work, and since you’re also an outsider, you probably don’t know… but actually… compared to the money circulating inside, the tolls and spot fees in these back alleys are basically scraps… so unless someone openly pokes around in the actual business, the big organizations more or less let it slide. Those guys grow bigger and eventually come under an organization anyway….”

At the answer, Hastings let out a hollow laugh, as if dumbfounded.

“Hah, a bunch of punks who live by fleecing people, yet you even care about nurturing future talent… If it’s money, they’d kill people without batting an eye, so there’s no way they’d do that for no reason. So I guess the money earned from that so-called ‘business’ is enormous?”

They said the rich were the greediest.

‘There’s no way people who make money through dirty work would reduce their profits for such a trivial reason….’

Hastings caught a scent.

“Good. Tell me everything you know.”

A faint smile hung at the corner of Hastings’s mouth beneath the robe pulled low. Hastings could instinctively tell. He had caught hold of the tail of his target.

Four days ago, the moment Hastings arrived in Valaris, he followed Yuwon’s orders and began searching for traces of Marcellus. Of course, the task was far from easy. After all, it was something he had started with no information whatsoever.

As he began his investigation, Hastings deliberately let his presence leak while moving through the back alleys on the outskirts of Valaris. Not openly, as if begging to be noticed, but extremely subtly, as though this level of concealment was the best Hastings could manage. Immediately, suspicious figures began tailing him.

‘Already…? That reaction was faster than expected.’

They, too, were hiding their presence, but Hastings, who had always been sensitive to such things and had now even awakened his sixth sense in the Great Jungle, could not be fooled.

‘To think that special-grade assassins, hard to find even in the Capital, are crawling all over a place where petty riffraff would normally only gamble with money. It stinks. Something about this is suspicious….’

Every single one of them was a master who could hold their own anywhere. Rather than growing impatient under their gazes, Hastings deliberately continued to leak more traces. As if thoroughly sweeping the back-alley floor from the ground up, clearly showing that he had business here.

Under their surveillance, Hastings carefully searched for traces step by step from the bottom up. And today, four days later, Hastings finally reached his destination.

‘…Is it here.’

A shabby pawnshop on the verge of collapse, a place that looked like it was rarely visited even among the market’s back alleys.

The traces Hastings had gathered while rummaging through the back alleys led his steps here. Without hesitation, Hastings pulled open the pawnshop’s door.

Creeeak—

Behind the hinge’s crying sound that suited the rundown pawnshop all too well, Hastings’s footsteps echoed softly in the strangely quiet interior.

Thud, thud—

The inside of the shop, which seemed like it could use a few more magic lamps, showed no sign of anyone. Hastings raised his voice and called for the owner.

“Is anyone here? Shopkeeper?”

At Hastings’s call, an elderly man suddenly poked his head out from behind the dark counter where the light barely reached.

“Oh my, a customer at such a late hour. What did you come to sell? Or perhaps you’re looking for something…?”

His head was mostly bald, and his already frail frame was bent at the waist, unable to hide his age. No aura could be felt from the old man. But that was by the standards from before Hastings awakened his sixth sense. The senses of the monstrous creatures he had learned in the Great Jungle were different. His intuition sent a sharp warning of danger.

‘This person… is strong…! To think there’s someone like this even outside the Great Jungle…!’

Goosebumps rose all over his body. Startled, Hastings realized that the old man before him was no ordinary elderly man.

‘If this old man were to become hostile toward me… I can’t be sure of victory.’

Even while such grave thoughts crossed his mind, Hastings’s expression remained indifferent. It was the composure befitting the new successor of the Raven chosen by Marcellus. Hastings calmly continued with his business.

“I have something to sell, and something to buy as well. It’ll probably be worth quite a bit… I’m not sure if you’ll be able to afford it.”

“Oh! To think I failed to recognize such a distinguished guest… Then let’s start with what you’re selling. Go ahead and take it out.”

“No. Let’s start with what I’m buying.”

“Ah, as you prefer.”

“What I’m looking for is… information.”

Information from a fence, not even the Thieves’ Guild. At Hastings’s words, the fence tilted his head as if he couldn’t understand.

“Information? Why information here…?”

Hastings pulled a raven dagger from his robes and placed it squarely on the counter before the shopkeeper.

“Does that change the story?”

Without a word, the shopkeeper examined only the dagger with the raven engraved in relief. It didn’t take long to determine whether it was genuine or a forgery.

The deeply wrinkled eyes of the old man, the gaze within them, suddenly gleamed like a finely honed blade as they pierced through Hastings.

“…Where did you find this.”

The old man’s gaze and tone both changed. Hastings drew a smile at the corner of his mouth.

“Looks like I came to the right place today.”

An assassination cult of the southern desert that had long vanished from the pages of history. They had begun to stir once more.