Chapter 59: Chapter 59

The sound of the creaking, cracked wooden door drew all eyes inside the tavern to the entrance.

The interior was dim, almost oppressively so. Coming from the bright sunlight outside, stepping in felt like descending into a basement. The distinct smell of whiskey hung heavily in the air. Luke, who wasn’t much of a drinker, wrinkled his nose and scanned the room.

The tavern wasn’t large—only four wooden tables in total. One group occupied all of them, seated together. Following Theo, Luke walked to the bar counter attached to the kitchen and sat down.

The tavern owner emerged from the back, finally noticing his new customers. He was a burly man, larger even than Theo, with a prominent scar slashed across his right cheek.

"What can I get you?" the owner asked curtly, his eyes fixed on the two. His gaze, sharp and calculating, felt like it was drilling into their scalps. It was clear he wasn’t just taking their drink orders—he was scrutinizing them.

"That one," Theo said, pointing to a cabinet behind the bar. His finger landed on the lowest shelf, where a transparent whiskey bottle sat haphazardly. Its label was peeling, the bottle itself looking as unappealing as possible—a drink that practically screamed low quality.

"And I’d like to see some… other goods," Theo added, his voice smooth and relaxed.

Luke, sipping the water the owner had given him, turned to Theo with curious eyes. Despite his usual stern demeanor, Theo was remarkably adept at playing a role. Before entering, Theo had stopped Luke from rushing in.

"Luke, let’s go over the plan first. We’ll act like customers."

"What?" Luke had blinked, confused. He’d expected Theo to storm in and apprehend the smugglers immediately.

"It’s better to approach them disguised as potential buyers."

Theo explained that if these smugglers were operating openly in a plaza, they were likely cautious and highly organized. Calon had mentioned how long it had taken just to confirm their presence, and even then, their high level of vigilance made them difficult to approach. Furthermore, the military hadn’t acted yet due to a lack of information about the tavern’s layout.

For criminals this careful, they’d undoubtedly have escape routes prepared. Charging in recklessly would risk failure—and worse, civilians could get caught in the crossfire since the plaza was connected to the city’s central district.

"First, we’ll confirm if these guys are dealing with monsters like the one we found," Theo had said, glancing at the fluffy creature hidden inside his cloak. The little monster, seemingly fond of Theo, nestled snugly within.

"You’ll pose as a noble looking to buy a monster, and I’ll be your bodyguard," Theo had suggested.

"Why am I the noble? Do I look weaker than you?"

Theo had smirked, pulling the hood of Luke’s robe over his head. "You’ve got a fine face; it suits the role. Let’s go."

Fine face? Was that a backhanded insult? Luke, belatedly offended, had scowled and emptied his glass of water as if to wash down the bitter aftertaste of the comment.

Now, seated at the bar, Luke watched Theo point to the bottle. It was an unmistakable signal. Regular customers wouldn’t go out of their way to order such a shabby drink. Wanting it indicated a special purpose—this was code. Adding to that, Theo’s deliberate choice of words—"goods" instead of "drinks"—made their intentions clear.

"What’s the purpose of your goods?" the owner asked cautiously.

"My master desires them," Theo replied smoothly.

The word master startled Luke so much that he dropped his glass. It hit the floor with a dull thud, causing everyone in the tavern to look his way. Even Theo’s sharp gaze pierced through him.

Luke muttered internally, I’m a noble. Theo is my loyal bodyguard. This is just a performance for the mission.

"My apologies," Luke said aloud, not looking particularly sorry. "I’ll compensate for the glass."

He knew all too well how nobles behaved—he’d seen enough of them during his military days. Dropping someone’s belongings and offering money instead of an apology was as “noble” as it got.

The owner, initially suspicious, leaned in closer to peer beneath Luke’s hood. Bright silver hair, even partially obscured, immediately caught the light. But what drew the most attention was Luke’s face—sharp, aristocratic features, with large eyes, a smooth jawline, and a nose as prominent as a mountain ridge.

"That won’t be necessary," the owner finally said, straightening up.

Perhaps it was because Luke looked convincingly like a noble, or perhaps his earlier words had allayed some of the owner’s suspicions. The man unfolded his crossed arms, but his sharp gaze remained.

"What’s the purpose of the goods?" the owner asked.

"I’ve been a little bored lately." Luke shrugged, fully leaning into the role of a spoiled aristocrat’s son. He added just the right amount of nonchalance to his tone.@@novelbin@@

"It’s rare for someone as refined as yourself to show up in person…"

But the owner wasn’t completely won over. While he seemed to accept Luke’s noble status and his supposed intent to purchase a monster, his guarded demeanor persisted.

"I’ve always been curious about the kind of people who make their living in dirty businesses," Luke said, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "I’m naturally inquisitive, so I followed my servant here."

The owner’s eyebrows furrowed deeply. Luke’s brazen arrogance, his casual dismissal of others’ feelings, and his superiority-laden remarks clearly rubbed the man the wrong way. Yet, after clicking his tongue, the owner nodded.

"I’ll show you the goods," he said curtly.

The owner tapped the bar twice. The three men seated at the table in the back slowly rose, their deliberate movements signaling that they weren’t ordinary patrons.

One man bolted the door. Another headed to a corner and crouched, fiddling with something on the floor. The last stood firmly behind Luke and Theo, as if to block any escape. The atmosphere in the tavern shifted, growing oppressive. What had seemed like an unassuming, quiet bar now exuded a chilling tension.

It felt like standing at the edge of a precipice, one wrong move away from falling into an abyss. Luke couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his lips—the thrill of danger was a feeling he hadn’t experienced in a while.

"This way," called the man crouching in the corner. With a grunt, he lifted a section of the floor, releasing a cloud of dust. Beneath it, a staircase led down into darkness. The owner nodded toward the opening, motioning for Luke and Theo to descend.

"You’re quite the actor," Luke murmured as they approached.

"Coming from you, that’s rich," Theo retorted, smirking.

The two exchanged their hushed remarks as they began descending the staircase. One of the men stayed upstairs to guard the entrance, while Luke, Theo, the owner, and two of his subordinates made their way down.

Despite the tavern’s modest size, the staircase seemed to plunge much deeper than expected. The air became heavier, tinged with the unmistakable scent of illicit activities. Luke’s irritation simmered as he thought about the contrast: people risking their lives to subdue monsters while criminals like these profited off the trade, selling even weak monsters for exorbitant sums. He had to suppress the urge to bring the whole place crashing down.

A sharp gaze broke his train of thought. Turning his head, he found one of the subordinates grinning at him with a disconcerting expression.

"What?" Luke asked, his tone sharp.

"I was just imagining something," the man replied, his grin widening.

Luke raised an eyebrow, not liking where this was going.

"With a face like yours, even men would fall for you," the man added, his voice dripping with lewd insinuation.

What is this lunatic saying? Luke’s brows furrowed deeply, and his expression darkened as the man reached toward his face.

"Ah!"

Theo, walking ahead, turned sharply. Like a predator striking its prey, his hand shot out to grab the subordinate’s wrist. His grip was so tight that veins bulged across the back of Theo’s hand, a silent testament to his strength.

"It hurts! Let go!" the man cried.

"Don’t touch him," Theo growled, his voice as icy and cutting as the air in the underground space. Even Luke flinched slightly at the sheer venom in Theo’s tone. It was clear Theo had become deeply immersed in his role—or perhaps this was just Theo being Theo. Luke briefly entertained the thought that, had Theo not been a soldier, he might have excelled as an actor in a prestigious theater troupe. But the mental image of Theo on stage was so absurd that Luke quickly abandoned the idea.

"My apologies," the owner interjected, addressing the offending subordinate with a sharp reprimand. Only then did Theo release his grip, and the man staggered back, clutching his wrist in humiliation.

"Lu— I mean, my lord," Theo said, turning to Luke.

"What?" Luke asked, slightly startled by the sudden formal tone.

"Please step ahead of me."

Theo switched their positions, putting himself between the guards and Luke. Luke followed behind the owner, thinking that having Theo speak so respectfully wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

At the bottom of the staircase, the owner produced a key and unlocked a large door, revealing a sprawling underground chamber. The two subordinates stepped inside first, one stomping loudly, clearly still nursing his bruised pride from earlier.

They lit the sconces affixed to the walls with practiced efficiency. The flickering orange glow spread slowly, illuminating the expansive space. Gradually, details of the hidden chamber came into view.