* * *
I followed quietly.
The place he arrived at wasn’t a gambling den.
Instead, Gaspar met someone there.
I kept my distance, observing.
The man had a large scar on his face and was dressed far too roughly to be an ordinary citizen.
He looked like the type to wield power in the backstreets.
Why?
Something felt off.
I edged closer until I could hear their voices.
“It’s almost done. You know who I am, right? The mentor of the Adventurer King!”
“Fuck, yeah, that’s why I waited this long. But? You said ‘soon’ last time too.”
“Why do you keep running your mouth?”
Wait a minute.
Was he seriously here to beg for an extension on his gambling debt?
I thought he already paid it off.
“It’s really almost done this time. That guy—he’d never refuse me if we met in person.”
Gaspar spoke with absolute confidence.
“I’ve greased the right wheels, so just wait a little longer. It’s not like this is our first deal. You know I always deliver.”
My mind went blank.
The man with the scar and a shaved head spat on the ground aggressively.
“Cut the bullshit and tell me when you’ll actually pay up.”
“We’ve done plenty of deals before, yeah. But this is the first time it’s taking this long. If you keep stalling like this, what happens if you just up and disappear? That’d be real inconvenient for us.”
I knew something was off.
That’s why I followed him.
But I never expected to hear something this raw and unfiltered.
Because to me, Gaspar was still supposed to be the god-given opportunity that arrived at just the right time.
For my mission, I wanted to believe that.
But this…
This was worse than I could have imagined.
“Word around town is that you got rejected by that monster. What, are we the only idiots still waiting around for you?”
The scarred man prodded Gaspar’s side with the sheath of his dagger.
Even with that blatant disrespect, Gaspar didn’t so much as blink.
He just smiled, that same charming smile as always.
“Rejected? He was just shaken for a moment.”
I was furious.
“He’s still Batista ‘Zerbin’.”
I was furious because it was true.
Because Batista still had feelings for Gaspar—because, despite everything, he was softer than people thought.
And because that bastard knew it and was using Batista’s heart like a tool.
I was so angry I could barely stand it.
“He still belongs to me.”
I wanted to kill him.
‘Belongs to you?’
How dare he?
Batista was far too noble and courageous for a piece of trash like him to even touch his shadow.
My vision went black.
My patience snapped, and pure instinct took over.
There was no way I could let this bastard keep running his mouth.
No way I could let him be a parasite clinging to Batista’s future.
Without hesitation, I threw my dagger.
I aimed for Gaspar’s pretty face, but unfortunately, he wasn’t just some random conman.
He dodged at the last second, and the blade missed.
“Who’s there?!”
It wasn’t even Gaspar who yelled—it was the thugs.
Guess they had plenty of skeletons in their closets, too.
But I didn’t care about them.
Revealing myself, I stepped out of the shadows.
With a flick of my fingers, the dagger embedded in the wall spun back into my palm, tracing a dark arc through the air.
I pointed the blade at them.
“An assassin?!”
I’d lived a decent life, so being mistaken for one stung a little.
But considering how I had just hidden in the dark and thrown a knife, I couldn’t blame them.
“Relax. I’m not here to kill you.”
I still sounded pissed, though.
That part was unavoidable.
“The only one I’m after is him. You don’t want to get involved.”
I tossed the dagger into the air and caught it again.
The blade gleamed, reflecting golden light.
Not many back-alley thugs had the guts to stand their ground after seeing sword energy like that.
“Shit…”
One of them groaned.
“That’s Raul Florenti.”
‘That?’
“The Shadow Claw? You asshole, why didn’t you say so earlier?!”
The bald guy grabbed his buddy by the collar.
“S-Sorry! We’ll leave you to it!”
The two of them bolted without a second thought.
Smart move.
But I also noticed Gaspar trying to use the chaos to escape.
That sneaky, annoying bastard.
Before he could slip out of the alley, I grabbed his wrist and threw him back inside.
His lean, well-built body hit the ground and rolled through the dirt.
Before he could crawl away, I stepped in front of him.
“We have some things to talk about, don’t we?”
Gaspar’s usually slick expression twisted with frustration.
But surprisingly, the emotion only flashed for a moment.
He quickly masked it, forcing a smile back onto his face.
Slowly, he pushed himself up.
“Haha… You heard that, huh?”
This bastard just won’t quit with his tricks.
“You’re not misunderstanding, right? It’s not like I actually think about Bati that way. I just… don’t have any money right now…”
A truly troubled expression, a voice dripping with sincerity, eyes full of desperation.
If I had even a shred of goodwill toward him, I might’ve wanted to be fooled.
Anyone taken in by his smooth looks, or anyone who owed him even the smallest favor, would’ve fallen for it completely.
“I only said that because I knew you’d listen! I just needed to buy some time until I could get my hands on extra funds!”
But I wasn’t falling for it.
Not a chance.
“Argh!”
I punched that shameless face of his.
The body he’d barely managed to lift crumpled back down.
Just because I let him off a few times out of respect for his position as Batista’s former teacher, did he really think I was an idiot?
He’s already exposed every last bit of his rotten personality—does he really think slapping on a mask now is going to fool me?
I’m not some naive seventeen-year-old like Batista, and I’m certainly not some grateful civilian he once did a favor for.
I’m a veteran, beaten and worn down by years of scraping by in the rough world of adventurers.
Does he think I haven’t dealt with bastards like him before?
“From now on, every time you lie, you get hit.”
Gaspar’s head jerked to the side, and he gasped for air.
If I’d put my full strength into that punch, his jawbone would’ve shattered.
But I needed him to talk, so I held back.
Even so, his cheek was already swelling bright red.
Staggering, he pushed himself up.
He clutched the back of his head, as if his skull was still ringing, then spat out a mouthful of blood.
It splattered onto the ground in thick droplets.
His lip had split, too.
But for an adventurer, this was nothing.
If he kept running his mouth, I was more than ready to knock out a few of his teeth.
Gaspar wiped the blood off his lips with his sleeve, his movements rough.
“Of all places, you just had to hit the face…”
Realizing now that I wasn’t going to fall for his act, he dropped the fake charm and snapped irritably.
“How the hell am I supposed to do business like this? I don’t even have a fucking potion to fix it! You gonna pay for one?”
How the hell is an adventurer’s “business” dependent on their face?
It should be about skill.
But he just admitted it himself—his real profession is scamming people.
Before I could even bother answering, Gaspar lunged.
His sword was drawn in a flash.
To be fair, he wasn’t entirely talentless.
His blade grazed the edge of my cloak—if I had been just a little slower, it would’ve sliced through my arm.
The cold bite of steel brushed my skin, but that was it.
A sharp sword alone isn’t enough.
That chill—I didn’t even register it as a real fight.
My blood didn’t even stir.
* * *
