Flynn wanted to know who had put a hit on him, but the rcenary Guild’s rules left no room for that kind of curiosity. Anonymous contracts were sacred, and Cage looked genuinely pained as he refused the request, his expression carrying an apology he wasn’t allowed to voice. It didn’t matter whether you were a Bronze-grade rookie or a Gold-grade legend; the guild guarded its clients’ identities with near-religious zeal.
Flynn didn’t resent him for it. Rules were rules, and in the real world rcenary organizations lived and died by their discretion. A guild that couldn’t keep secrets wouldn’t survive long enough to regret it. Accepting that, Flynn selected a handful of contracts that offered decent rewards without demanding much effort, then slipped out of Moster City beneath the cover of night.
The work itself was routine. A few monsters cleared, a few items collected, nothing worth rembering. The roads and fields outside the city were dotted with other players, many of them carrying Eternal Torches purchased within the city walls. The magical flas hovered above their heads like miniature suns, illuminating a wide radius and carving circles of light into the darkness. It made the night feel less dangerous, though no less busy.
By the ti the first hints of dawn brushed against the eastern horizon, Flynn had finished everything on his list and returned to the rcenary Guild to turn in his contracts. Cage greeted him with his usual warmth while processing the rewards, then smiled knowingly. "Master Night-Stalker, the tavern is officially open for the morning. If you’re looking to unwind, I strongly recomnd a drink."
Flynn felt the fatigue settle into his bones now that the adrenaline had faded, so he took the advice without hesitation and made his way toward the tavern wing of the guild hall. At this early hour, there were no players in sight. Instead, the space was occupied by a group of hardened-looking NPC rcenaries clad in expensive, well-maintained gear, their presence lending the room a rough but relaxed atmosphere.
As Flynn stepped inside, a striking woman with the refined air of a high-society flirt called out to him. "Hey there, handso. Why don’t you co over and join us for a round?"
The burly man beside her threw back his head and laughed. "Careful, Venom Scorpion. You’ll scare the poor pretty boy off."
Flynn offered them a polite smile. If not for the green NPC naplates hovering above their heads, he would have sworn they were real people dressed for a convention. He walked to the bar, tossed a gold coin onto the counter, and nodded toward the woman. "Get a drink for the lady over there," he said lightly, punctuating it with a casual wink.
The bartender grinned and got to work, but the woman bristled at the word. "Lady? Oh, heavens, kid, you’re calling a lady? Can’t you tell I’m still a miss?"
Flynn nearly choked on his drink. Right. Nobody in the real world made that distinction anymore. But here... the ga took its dieval social rules seriously. He chuckled and raised a hand in surrender. "No offense ant. Please forgive my lack of manners."
Madelna, also known as Venom Scorpion, seed amused rather than offended. She accepted the drink and sauntered over, her hips swaying with deliberate confidence. "I suppose I can forgive you, for the price of a good drink. So, young man, what do they call you?"
"Night-Stalker," Flynn replied, leaning back against the bar with an easy, roguish smile. "And is Venom Scorpion really your na? A woman as beautiful as you deserves sothing far more elegant."
She laughed, a clear and lodic sound edged with practiced seduction. "My real na is Madelna. You can call Madi, or Dina, whichever you like."
Flynn lifted his glass in a silent toast. "Then it’s a pleasure, Madi." He took a slow sip, his posture relaxed in a way that would have fit right in at an old country club. "Being seen with soone like you does wonders for a man’s reputation."
Her eyes lit up, and the smile that spread across her face felt almost genuine. "Oh, listen to you. You’ve got quite the silver tongue. I could get used to that."
For a brief mont, Flynn nearly forgot she was an NPC. She was too vivid, too engaging, and the thought crept in uninvited that he was genuinely flirting with a collection of code. The absurdity of it made him clear his throat, preparing to pull back, when a sudden shadow fell across the table and a hand slamd down between them.
A woman stood there, her presence cold and sharp enough to cut through the room. Her gaze swept over Madelna before settling with lethal focus. "Venom Scorpion," she said, her voice carrying a clear warning. "Don’t touch our people. I know your hobbies. Play your gas in the streets if you want, but stay away from our mbers, or I’ll personally cut your tail off."
Madelna’s color drained instantly. She looked like a mouse that had just noticed the cat. Without a word, she forced a brittle smile, backed away, dropped a few silver coins onto the table, and hurried out of the tavern.
Flynn watched her leave, then turned to see Linda standing there with a faint smirk. He shook his head, half amused and half confused. "Miss Linda, what are you doing here? And what was that all about?"
Linda regarded him with cool amusent. "You adventurers really enjoy walking on thin ice. You play with things we wouldn’t dare touch. Do you even know who Madelna is, or how she earned that nickna?"
Flynn blinked. Her tone alone made his skin prickle. Was Madelna really that dangerous?
After a mont, Linda gestured toward the burly man Madelna had been sitting with. "Tell him," she said flatly. "Explain why she’s called the Venom Scorpion."
The man visibly shrank under her gaze. He laughed nervously and cleared his throat. "Madelna has... a preference. Young n, specifically. She picks them up in taverns, charms them, and brings them ho. After a night of romance, they’re found the next morning as nothing but dried-out husks."
A chill ran down Flynn’s spine. He had expected sothing unpleasant, but not that.
Linda snorted softly. "Understand now?"
"Perfectly," Flynn replied, nodding. Even so, his attention kept drifting back to Linda. The tavern had gone completely silent the mont she arrived, the warmth draining out of the room like water through a cracked cup.
Satisfied, Linda nodded. "Good. I’m here to give you an update on Bass."
"You found him already?" Flynn stared at her. He’d ntioned the na barely a day ago.
"The Rogue Guild’s intelligence network doesn’t waste ti," Linda said, clearly enjoying his reaction. "He’s hiding in Knightly Town under an alias. That’s where you’ll find him."
Flynn frowned. "An alias? What na is he using?"
She rolled her eyes. "Figure it out yourself. And be careful. Knightly Town isn’t the place to wave your blade around. Bass isn’t soone you can push without consequences. If things go south, use this."
She pulled a parchnt scroll from her cloak and tossed it to him. "A temporary command order. It lets you requisition the local guards for an arrest or execution. Don’t lose it."
Flynn caught the scroll, his thoughts racing. Who was this woman, really, to hand out authority like that? He nodded and tried to invite her for a drink, but she declined without slowing her stride and disappeared from the tavern.
The mont she was gone, the room collectively exhaled. Flynn watched as the NPC rcenaries relaxed, smiles creeping back onto their faces. A few rogues who had vanished into stealth during her arrival quietly reappeared at their tables.
’She’s just a receptionist, right?’ he wondered. Why were they all terrified?
The burly man approached and clapped Flynn on the shoulder. "Nice work, kid. Getting personal attention from Lady Linda ans you’ve got a bright future."
"Lady Linda?" Flynn echoed, baffled.
The rcenaries exchanged uneasy looks. The man leaned in and lowered his voice. "You really don’t know?"
"She’s the Rogue Guild’s receptionist," Flynn muttered.
The man’s mouth twitched. "That’s her day job. She’s also the youngest Elder in the guild’s history, promoted in her twenties because her talent is terrifying. She’s the Governor of Moster City’s sister, and on top of all that, she’s the Deputy Commander of the city’s Expeditionary Force."
Flynn let out a low whistle. "Even so, that doesn’t explain why you’re all this scared."
The man’s expression darkened. "Seven years ago, during the Extermination Campaign, she led thirty soldiers into an ambush by hundreds. When reinforcents arrived, she was covered head to toe in blood. She didn’t say a word. She walked straight up to the three rcenary teams that betrayed her unit and executed every last one of them. Since then, she hasn’t trusted rcenaries. Every visit here, she’s looking for an excuse. Today was rcy."
Silence settled heavily over the tavern as the story ended, thick with resentnt and old fear.
Flynn looked around, then exhaled slowly. "Sounds like she did exactly what needed to be done. Anyone who betrays their own deserves what they get."
A dozen sharp glares snapped toward him at once. Flynn had no doubt that if this weren’t a strictly enforced no-kill zone, they would have torn him apart on the spot.
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