The Fine Print✔️

Chapter 17

After three weeks of fighting injustice in the villages surrounding the inner city, I had unexpectedly found myself in an inner-city brothel. When Weredra had told me that the boots would take me to places where trouble was brewing, I had presumed that it would take me right to it. And for the most part, it had proved right, that is until today. For the first time, it seemed that it had taken me in the vicinity of trouble. The exact nature and cause was up to me to identify.

Something is better than nothing, I guess.  

Since I was still in the inner city and did not have my temporary permit at hand, I decide to cover most of my body with the cloak. I take refuge behind a group of men entering the entertainment house and follow them. Lucky for me, the men look to be nobles and regular visitors. When the guard at the entrance bows to them, I sneak past them and enter the establishment. I watch as the nobles hand over a maroon circular object, about three-inch in diameter, to the guard, who stuffs it in a cubby hole by the entrance. "Thank you for your cooperation." The guard bows again and welcomes them inside.

I creep closer to the entrance trying my best to hide myself completely. It was the first time I had found myself in a crowded location. I slouch and drop on all fours and crawl towards the guard and strategically place myself in such a way that I can hear them talk.

After about ten minutes of eavesdropping on their conversation, I had gathered that the circular object was the sacred 'royal permit' that I had seen hanging from Lung Chi's waist. The permit was like a deposit of sorts as well. All expenses incurred during the visit to the establishment were 'charged' to it. I also hear my name: 'The masked bandit' getting mentioned in passing. It sounded like a word of my antics had reached the inner-city and made nobles anxious.

I leave the area and venture inside. I find beautiful men and women, all sparsely dressed, hover and cling to impeccably dressed men, both young and old, who I concluded, were the customers.

I look around and spot the familiar faces I had taken refuge behind; I crawl over to them as they look at the goods on offer. It was nothing out of the ordinary, I presumed, for everyone looked to be in good spirits. 

 I spot the men I had entered with, and sneaking past the other customers, go to them.

I watch the older one settle down for a drink while the younger refuses the beverage and looks past the entertainers towards a door at the end of a massive, elaborately decorated hall.

 The older drowns a drink and gets handsy with a lovely delicate lady, pulling her into his lap and offering her the next drink; it's disgusting how the man's hands caress the lady's cheek and trail down to her bosom. Concluding that the lady was probably forced to work here and needed saving, I keep my eyes glued to the woman. Why else would the boots have lead me here? But even after observing the woman for a few minutes, it doesn't look like she was doing something she did not want to do.

'So that's not why I am here.' I realize and shift my attention to the young man who had suddenly left and walked towards the place he had been eyeing. Halfway there, however, he meets a young man who hands a white square object half the size of my palm to him. After receiving it, the lord gives the young man some money and promptly walks towards the door at the end of the hall.

It must be this, the reason I am here.

I sprint. With barely a second to spare, I cross the threshold behind the young man. And am standing beside him as the door shut from the outside.

A heavy familiar scent hangs in the dimly lit room. It takes me a few seconds to get used to the lighting and the fragrance, which is the same one I had come across on the day I had set foot in the inner city.