The tavern's interior sank into a chill as if it had been doused in ice water but Osian, the person involved in the situation, was enjoying the food.
It was so good that even the people who had ordered the sa food were wondering, "Was that dish really that delicious?”
However, they were soon forced to abandon such lighthearted thoughts.
A fight broke out.
Fighting inside taverns is a common occurrence, but this was no ordinary tavern.
It was a trading post, a place where back-alley fixers and rcenaries ca to buy and sell information.
Naturally, it had its own underworld rules.
Fighting was allowed, but not inside.
If you had to fight, you had to do it outside.
Of course, even with that, there are still occasional confrontations and fights. They were flexible and let them off the hook to a certain extent.
But when a knight ca out of nowhere and beat up three people, it was hard to be flexible.
It was unprecedented.
The Dutri brothers were the first to argue, but it was Osian who struck first.
The heads inside the tavern rolled quickly.
According to the rules, Osian could be attacked by everyone right here and right now and still have nothing to say.
Even if he ca here unknowingly there was no excuse for ignorance in this industry. If you didn't know, you deserved to die.
However the rcenaries hesitated because of the unbelievable strength Osian had just displayed.
‘I didn't see him draw his sword.’
Osian blows away the eldest, and then takes on the second and third.
Before they could draw their guns, Osian swung his sword.
They couldn't see when he grabbed the sword or when he swung it.
All they saw was a sawed-off shotgun that had already been cut down.
‘He tossed that eldest Dutri brother like a rag doll.’
‘How the hell is he physically capable of that?’
It was Osian's unbelievable physical abilities that made everyone hesitate.
They thought he was just a weirdo with a bad haircut, but his skills were real.
Naturally, the people inside the bar couldn't help but have a common thought.
'That guy. Is he a body-enhancing mutant?’
‘If he's a mutant, he's dangerous, but if we don’t go through with it, we're breaking the rules.’
As the guests deliberated, so of them slowly put their hands on their waistbands to calm themselves.
They realized that it might be possible to shoot him from a distance without approaching him.
At that mont, Osian, who had finished the lamb and gulped down the soup in one gulp, set his plate down with a clatter and opened his mouth.
“I’m warning you, I hope you don’t pull out your gun.”
The rcenaries who'd been reaching for their guns flinched at the words.
Osian spoke as if he knew their intentions even though he didn't look their way.
"I beat up those three n just now because they insulted first and tried to argue with . I let them off with a punch, but if you draw your weapons here again, you can expect no rcy from my sword."
Osian's warning, his deanor, the way he said he'd let his previous behavior slide, could be taken literally as a bluff.
However, the distinctive urgency in his voice made it impossible for anyone to mistake his words for bluster.
Gulp.
The rcenaries swallowed, rolled their eyes, and looked at each other.
To do or not to do?
They seed to be debating who would shoot first, or if they would all just walk away as if nothing had happened.
In the end, though, the decision tipped in favor of enforcing the rules.
Osian sighed as the animosity slowly began to boil over, like bubbles rising from the surface of the water.
He never thought he'd see blood here again after such a delicious al but running away was not chivalrous.
Osian readied his sword and just like that, the atmosphere reached a fever pitch.
"I personally recomnd not drawing your guns."
The sudden voice turned everyone's gaze to a table in the corner of the tavern.
A young man sat in front of it, quietly sipping wine.
The dark-eyed man smiled softly at the countless stares that flew his way.
Unlike the rough-looking, dirty-dressed n in the tavern, the young man wore a neat, wrinkle-free suit.
No matter how you looked at him, he was far from a man of fists and violence.
The young man gently sipped his wine, then set the glass on the table and spoke.
"You could all draw your guns but you won’t be able to touch a hair on his head."
At first glance, those words were enough to scratch the pride of the rcenaries here, but no one got angry at those words.
On the contrary, so of them seed surprised and sincere.
"Hmm.”
Osian also looked at the snowy-eyed young man with curiosity.
The other rcenaries were listening intently to the man who seed to be far from violent.
'A man of action.’
At least he had a na in this business.
"Ronan Rolland."
One of the rcenaries who had been listening spoke up.
Ronan Rolland. The dark-eyed young man who was called that smiled and replied.
"Yes, Mr. Jas."
"Is that true? It's hard to accept, to be honest. Not that we're taking you at your word, of course. It's just that......."
"I understand, you're asking if it's credible."
At Ronan's words, the rcenary nad Jas nodded.
Everyone's attention naturally shifted away from Osian and toward Ronan.
"Because I just heard so interesting news."
"What news?"
"You know about the recent strike in the 43rd Precinct?"
Jas' reaction to the question was that he didn't know.
Then so of the rcenaries who had heard about it said they had.
"You an the cotton mill strike."
"Well, that'll make it easier to talk about it. Apparently, a worker was seriously injured in that factory, and the employer kicked him out without compensation, so the workers went on strike."
"What does that have to do with what's happening now?"
"Well, you'll see when you hear more. To make a long story short, the employer didn't let the workers go on strike. He threw money at them and hired gangsters...so dangerous ones."
"Gangs."
Soone muttered sothing, and Ronan nodded as if he was right.
"Yes. A gang of forty n attacked the laborers in the night. The laborers fought back, but it was no use, because they had guns, of course."
"So what the hell does that have to do with what's going on right now.......?"
"Well, they say that those forty gangsters were defeated by one man who ca out of nowhere."
Ronan looked at Osian as he said that.
The gazes of the people in the tavern also turned to Osian.
"They say he was wearing armor and wielding a single sword, and he was unbelievably invincible against over forty gangsters. They say he parried bullets with his sword and dodged bullets flying into his eyes."
"......!"
The n gathered in the tavern squinted at the words.
The rcenaries knew better than anyone that Ronan would not lie about sothing like this and the information he brought back was never less than reliable.
Everything Ronan said now was the truth.
All eyes turned to Ronan, then back to Osian.
Osian ignored their stares and stared at Ronan.
"News travels fast."
The words confird Ronan's words.
Osian was quite surprised, to say the least.
He hadn't been without his peripheral vision, but he had to admire Ronan's intelligence for realizing what had just happened so quickly.
Ronan inclined his head at Osian's words.
"Thank you for the complint. Brokers who make their living from information are bound to be quicker than anyone else."
Brokers, as they were called, were agents who arranged jobs for rcenaries and fixers, taking a cut in the middle.
Ronan glanced around the tavern.
"This is a pleasant enough gathering, and I don't want a bloodbath, so why don't we call it a night?"
"That depends on how they turn out, I suppose."
"I see. What do you think, Mr. Jas?"
"Ronan, if you say so, it must be the truth, but three n got hit. You don't tell you don't know the rules of this place, do you?"
Ronan's smile remained inscrutable as Jas spoke.
"It was the Dutri brothers who started the fight."
"But they didn't use their hands first."
"Instead, no one died, and the knight......by any chance, what's your na?"
"Osian."
"I see. Mr. Osian drew his sword, but it was in self-defense, and he only used it to cut off the gun, and I understand this tavern looks the other way when it cos to fisticuffs."
“Isn’t this unprecedented?”
"Then this must be the first, and I leave it to you, Mr. Jas, to set a fine precedent."
Jas clenched his jaw at Ronan's casual shifting of the burden to this side.
He could argue that Osian was an outsider here, but the knight who now occupied a seat at the tavern was unusually aggressive.
"......Damn it."
Jas let out an irritated sigh and removed his hand from his waistband.
The action caused everyone in the tavern to remove their weapons and return their attention to their als.
The tavern quickly returned to its normal bustling atmosphere.
Osian watched the scene in disbelief.
Ronan rose from his seat and sat down beside Osian, joining him casually.
"May I sit?"
"You're already seated, and I have no right to kick you out."
"Thank you for your consideration."
Ronan chuckled and ordered another drink from the bartender.
Osian didn't seem to mind the gesture, then glanced at the glass in front of him.
"A gift for the knight."
"......Thank you."
Osian didn't refuse, as he had been tempted to drink it anyway but even so, he didn't let his guard down toward Ronan.
There was only one reason for that.
‘This kid has narrow eyes.’
Since ancient tis, people with narrow eyes have had a shady backstory.
Either they deliberately conceal their identity, or when they open their eyes, their hidden power suddenly flows out.
'It's more likely to be a hidden talent.’
However, no matter how he looked, he couldn't find any trace of hidden power in Ronan.
Either he hid it so well that Osian couldn't recognize it, or he was truly powerless.
Since he couldn't tell, Osian felt that he needed to be wary of Ronan for now.
Of course, he was genuinely grateful for the help.
But that was one thing, this was another.
"So what do you want with ?"
“Did my actions seem too obvious?”
"One drink is not enough."
"Then I'll have to order more."
With that, Ronan winked at the bartender.
The bartender casually placed the bottle in front of Osian.
Osian raised an eyebrow at Ronan's blatant behavior.
‘You're trying to bribe with alcohol?’
It's ridiculous. Who in the world would be bribed with alcohol?
With that, Osian downed the liquor in one gulp as if to show that it was only the first drink.
"Good."
However the words that ca out of his mouth were anything but that.
The liquor was too good.
It was strong, but the knight's body, which craved alcohol, was so receptive to it.
In real life, he avoided drinking soju at drinking parties, but this knight's body could drink strong whiskey, rum, etc. like water.
More importantly, this body loved to drink.
Osian casually looked at the empty glass, then grabbed the bottle beside him and poured himself a drink.
"Let's hear it......."
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