Lord of the mysteries(600-800)

722

As Silver Coin Viper Oder wasn't a pirate, there were all kinds of rumors about him, most of which could hardly be verified. Klein retracted his gaze from the staircase and walked to the bar counter. He found a seat at the counter and tapped it.

"A cup of Zarhar."

This was a locally produced malt beer. It was a lot cheaper than Southville beer that needed to be shipped over from the Northern Continent.

"3 pence." The bartender recovered from his silent state as he picked up an overturned cup.

The crowd in the bar began to break out into whispers as they were illuminated by the gas wall lamps. All of them were discussing the reason for Silver Coin Viper Oder's purchase of ten tickets.

"He's definitely being pursued by someone. Ten tickets among three ships... It's clearly to prevent his pursuers from knowing which ship they boarded!" A gang member with his sleeves rolled-up, revealing his tattoo, shared his view based on his experience from evading capture twice.

An adventurer drinking Lanti Proof scoffed.

"You don't understand Oder. If his plan was that simple, he wouldn't have the title 'Silver Coin Viper.'

"I dare bet that he won't be on any of those liners from those ten tickets!

"The only thing I can confirm is that they're heading to Pritz Harbor."

Another adventurer shook his head when he heard that.

"Perhaps the news of him heading to Pritz Harbor is fake as well."

The gang member from before was taken aback by what he heard. Refusing to be one-upped, he said, "According to your descriptions, Oder has likely thought of what you figured out. That's precisely why he's heading to Pritz Harbor and will be on one of the three ships!"

The two adventurers were about to retort him, but they decided that there was quite a nonzero chance of that happening after some careful thought. Momentarily, none of them said a word.

This made the gang member extremely happy as he downed the rest of his liquor.

Klein was holding a cup of Zarhar as he sipped it while listening to the conversation. He was waiting for the fake identification and tickets he needed.

There's another 45 minutes. I hope nothing happens. Don't make the bar into a mess... He silently prayed as he drew the crimson moon inwardly.

The light-yellow beer slowly dropped in volume while Klein would look at the wall clock from time to time, or at the entrance, hoping that time would pass faster.

Half an hour later, the door to the bar was suddenly opened with a loud thud as the evening wind gushed in.

No way... The corners of Klein's lips twitched as he held back his urge to smile wryly. He turned his body to look at the sound.

Standing by the door were five people. Their leader had black hair and brown eyes, with recessed facial features and cut facial contours. He looked Loenese and looked to be in his early forties.

His expression was cold and he exuded a natural air of dominance. It made everyone in the bar quieten down without realizing it.

And the three men and the woman behind him were in trench coats. They didn't hide the fact that they were holding revolvers, and that they would instantly aim and shoot if there was any slight sign of abnormalities.

I don't know them. They aren't on any wanted list or have any bounties on them... Klein mumbled to himself as he maintained his state as a spectator.