Episode 935

Screeeech.

“Spin it! Spin it! Keep it going!”

“Ahhh! I’m losing my mind!”

As they stepped through the red door, an entirely different world unfolded before them.

Under a kaleidoscope of flashing lights, people gathered as if entranced by something. The air was thick with the acrid smell of cigarette smoke, and everywhere echoed with desperate screams, shouts, and cheers.

“Ian, this way.”

This was a hell unlike the monster-infested borderlands of Bariel he’d endured for years. If that place was stained with blood and tears, this one was soaked in greed and desire.

“What’s going on here?”

“Ah.”

Ian was struck by the scene—something he’d never witnessed before. If Hans hadn’t pulled him along, he might have just stood frozen in place.

People behind them pushed forward impatiently, grumbling to hurry up. Following Hans, Ian asked, “How big is this place?”

“There are a lot of underground floors, so I’m not exactly sure. It’s definitely not the kind of place where you can easily find someone.”

From the outside, it looked big, but not this massive. Odell’s description of the Black Order member’s distinctive features had made Ian hopeful they’d find him quickly—but now, he wasn’t so sure.

“Even showing up every day wouldn’t be enough.”

Searching through the crowd was nearly impossible. Hans scanned the room, then suddenly spotted someone and waved cheerfully.

“Hey, sir!”

This was the owner of a nearby tavern from when Hans lived in Rugerspell. The man pushed aside a crate of liquor and turned to look at Hans. At first, he didn’t seem to recognize him, but then a bright smile spread across his face.

“Well, if it isn’t Hans!”

“Wow, it’s been a while.”

“Yeah, you’ve grown into quite the handsome young man. I almost didn’t recognize you. How’s Naum doing?”

“He’s been busy, as usual. How about you?”

“Doing fine. As you can see, still selling drinks late into the night. But what brings you here? You’re not just here to have fun, are you?”

When Naum awakened as a mage, Rugerspell was turned upside down. Some regretted not treating him better earlier, others were fascinated and kept visiting Hans’s house, and some, despite having no money, asked to borrow cash.

The tavern owner was the only one who came bearing congratulations and food.

“We’re not here to party. Don’t worry.”

Knowing the brothers’ situation well, the tavern owner raised his eyebrows in concern. He wondered if Hans had become lazy or fallen into indulgence because of his mage status. Hans gently pulled Ian aside and whispered.

“We came from the royal palace, and we’re looking for someone.”

“Oh? Really?”

The royal palace meant the Magic Department! That was the only department Hans had connections with. The tavern owner caught on quickly and invited them to sit at the bar, pouring them drinks.

“Who are you looking for? I’ve been here selling drinks every night for three years now. I’ve seen most of the usual faces—though remembering names is another story. Ha ha ha!”

Ian raised his glass and nodded politely. It felt more natural to hold something rather than stand empty-handed.

“We’re looking for a man with a large mole beside his nose, narrow eyes, and missing front teeth.”

“Hmm. I think I might’ve seen someone like that.”

The owner tilted his head. The description suggested a seriously ugly guy who’d stand out, but no one immediately came to mind. He offered a suggestion.

“If you want to find someone, why not put up a notice?”

“A notice?”

“Over there.”

Ian followed the owner’s finger to a wall plastered with papers—layer upon layer, so thick the wall itself was hidden.

“People post all kinds of things—loans, requests for loans, looking for partners in gambling, lost items, and so on. Some even leave nasty curses, but it’s pretty active.”

“Do you think it works?”

“Better than doing nothing, right? People desperate for quick cash scour those boards with their eyes wide open. Some even make money just from that.”

Not a bad idea. Ian nodded, and the owner handed him a napkin and pen. Ian hesitated briefly, then asked Hans.

“You write it.”

“Me? Sure, but why?”

“My handwriting’s too neat—it doesn’t fit here.”

“…Fine.”

Hans clenched his teeth as he spoke, and the owner chuckled heartily, turning away. The clinking of glasses and endless orders filled the air.

“Looking for a man who stiffed me on a debt. Male. Mole beside nose. Narrow eyes. Missing front teeth. Reward for info. Inquire at the tavern. One silver coin.”

“Make it two coins.”

“Alright, two coins.”

Hans scribbled the note and pinned it right in the center of the wall. Now, all the money-hungry types would swarm to find the Black Order member—naturally, and without any trouble.

“Let’s leave this here. Since we’re here, want to look around?”

“Do we have time? It’s already pretty late.”

“A day won’t hurt.”

“Alright, I’ll go right. Hans, you take left. Let’s meet back here.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Hans warned Ian not to take off his robe and headed left. Ian went right, weaving through the bustling crowd. Hundreds of faces passed by, but none seemed suspicious.

“Hans, any luck?”

“No sign.”

“Let’s go downstairs.”

The deeper they went, the darker it felt. Upstairs, with the tavern, the atmosphere was loud and chaotic, like half-crazed revelers. Down below, it was filled with something more dangerous and desperate.

Ian frowned amid the endless cheers and screams, then suddenly stopped.

“Hans.”

“Yeah?”

Ian nodded subtly toward a man sitting at a card table. Hans adjusted his glasses and frowned. The mole beside his nose, the narrow eyes—

“Not sure about the missing front teeth, though.”

“Let’s check.”

Ian sat down in the empty seat at the table. Hans whispered nervously.

“If you sit, you have to play.”

“Then I’ll play. I just exchanged some chips earlier.”

“What? When?”

A few unfamiliar, young-looking players whispered among themselves, casting suspicious glances. Noticing this, Hans cautiously stepped back. Fortunately, the man with the mole kept his mouth shut, focused on his cards.

“No cigarettes, no drinks.”

Ian signaled Hans with his eyes.

“Send some drinks over here.”

Hans nodded reluctantly and hurried upstairs. Suddenly, he wondered why he was so anxious. Ian was a mage, wasn’t he? He could blow the whole building sky-high if things went south. So why the worry?

“Would you like to join the game?”

“Yes.”

Ah, right. Hans was worried Ian might lose all his money.

No matter how rich you are, the gambling table treats everyone the same. Money melts away like ice in summer, evaporates like desert steam. How many stories had Hans heard of people losing their homes and families to gamblers?

“Ian, just hold on a bit longer!”

Please, take it slow! Does he even know the rules? Does he know how much each chip is worth? Hans felt dizzy as he ran up the stairs two at a time.

Meanwhile, Ian checked his cards and slowly scanned the other players.

“Did a kid like this really come here?”

“Why does his face look familiar? Not one you forget easily.”

Though the robe cast shadows, his complexion wasn’t something to hide. Ian said nothing and pushed chips toward the dealer.

“Call.”

“Rude. I call too.”

“Gotta follow suit. Ahem.”

The others exchanged a few words, but the man in question kept his mouth shut, focused on the game. When he glanced at Ian, Ian casually looked away toward the dealer.

---

“Ian! Ian! Ian!”

Hans came rushing down the stairs, arms full of drinks. Orders had piled up at the tavern, delaying him more than expected. What about Ian? Had he checked the man’s front teeth?

Crash!

Clatter!

“Damn it! This can’t be happening!”

“That bastard just cheated!”

“Give me my money back! I said give it back!”

Shouts rang out somewhere nearby. The gamblers briefly lost interest as a commotion broke out, and staff rushed in to calm the angry crowd.

“Hey, keep it down.”

“Damn it, open your eyes and look! Does this make any sense?”

Hans spilled more than half his drinks as he pushed through the crowd. Unlike the calm Ian, the men who had been sitting with him were now on their feet, raging wildly.

“Ian—”

Hans opened his eyes wide, utterly baffled. Piled high before him were chips—three times, no, maybe five times more than before. Meanwhile, the other players’ stacks were completely empty.

“Uh, Hans.”

“W-what happened?”

“As you can see.”

Ian said casually, as if it were no big deal, “I took them all.” The man beside him pointed fingers and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“You’re definitely cheating!”

“Hey, did you see that?”

A staff member asked the dealer, but the dealer just shook his head—no sign of anything suspicious.

Ian leaned back in his chair, staring at the man with the mole by his nose, who still refused to say a word even now.

“Grrrrraaaah!”

Suddenly, the man let out a wild, guttural scream.

“…!”

Ian was just as startled by the outburst. But then, as if satisfied with the outcome, he stood up.

“Hans, buy a round for everyone at this table.”

“Uh? Oh, yeah. Here, if you’re feeling hot, drink this.”

Hans set down the drinks roughly on the table and started gathering the chips in Ian’s place. Ian glanced toward the stairs leading down and then suggested,

“Shall we go down one more floor? The arena’s on the lower level, right?”

“What about that guy from before?”

“He’s got a full set of front teeth.”

“Ah.”

Ian had seen the man’s front teeth clearly when he was screaming. Since he wasn’t the person they were looking for, there was no reason to linger on this floor.

“But Ian, did you know how to play the game?”

What on earth do they teach at the Ministry of Magic?

Hans, already bewildered, was about to hear an even more baffling answer.

“No.”

“…Then how did you win?”

“Just by watching and guessing.”

He learned the rules and won money just by reading the room? Hans was left speechless.

“Hey—!”

The people who had lost money to Ian earlier had caught up and were threatening him like they were about to throw punches.

“Give us our money, you damn cheat!”

“Hey, why are you doing this?”

Hans tried to step in, but there was no way he could stand up to a half-crazed man’s strength. The gambling staff just watched, clearly annoyed, and the others didn’t want to get involved in a pointless fight. Or rather, they simply didn’t care.

“My money—!”

“Ugh!”

As Hans was pushed back, Ian instinctively clenched his fist. He couldn’t use magic, but he could at least try to hold the guy down—

Bam!

Suddenly, someone kicked the man’s back from behind, sending him flying.

Thud, thud, thud!

The man tumbled down the stairs with heavy thuds. His companions lunged forward reflexively but were easily subdued with one hand.

“Damn bastards. I gotta make money, not deal with this crap. Move, will ya?”

The stranger cursed irritably. His face was bruised and torn, his eyes fierce, and when he spoke, Ian caught a glimpse of his crooked teeth. And—

Red hair.

“Beric, you wanna use some muscle before heading up to the arena?”

“Don’t know. They won’t move. It’s already cramped enough to die in here.”

Beric spat and headed down the stairs. Far below, an arena awaited him.

“…”

Ian stepped back to give way, and Beric glanced sharply at him as they passed. Their eyes met for the first time.