Rudeus woke to pale morning light filtering through the inn's window. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, and his mind immediately went to work processing their situation.
They had evidence now. Solid, documented proof of what was happening in that facility. The question was what to do with it. Going to the local authorities was pointless Glen's research had shown they were all compromised. The regional governor was an option, but that would take time. Time those people in the cells didn't have.
He could try a direct approach free the prisoners by force. But he'd seen the layout now, seen how many guards there were. They wouldn't be a problem he could actually wipe out everyone there but he didn't want to be wanted as a local killer.
Maybe he could…
Rudeus glanced over at Sylvia's bed. Still empty. Her things were there, neatly arranged as always, but she hadn't come back. The mission must have taken longer than expected. Or she was avoiding him. Both were equally possible given how their last real conversation had gone. Still something about this bothered him.
Rudeus stood and moved to the loose floorboard, retrieving the ledger he'd hidden there. The leather cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age and use. He sat back on his bed and began flipping through it, studying each entry more carefully now that he had time.
Names, dates, debt amounts, work assignments. Each entry represented a person trapped in that nightmare below the city. Some of the debts were massive—thousands of gold pieces. Others were smaller, but with interest rates that made them impossible to pay off regardless.
He flipped another page. Then another. His eyes scanned the entries methodically, committing details to memory. A woman named Sarah, debt of 847 gold pieces, assigned to "textile work"—probably a euphemism. A man named Marcus, debt of 1,203 gold, assigned to "Guild labor."
Another page. More names, more impossible debts.
Then his hand stopped.
Rudeus stared at the page, his finger resting on an entry. He couldn't explain why he'd stopped. There was nothing obviously unusual about this particular entry just another name, another debt, another life destroyed by this system. But something about it made him pause.
He read it again. Then a third time.
Nothing. It was just a normal entry like all the others.
So why had he stopped? He looked at the name And was a little confused. "Leng carton."
Rudeus shook his head and closed the ledger, tucking it back under the floorboard. He was probably just tired, seeing patterns where there were none. His mind was working overtime trying to find connections, trying to solve a problem that felt too big to solve.
He needed to get out, clear his head. Maybe grab something to eat at the guild.
Rudeus stepped out of the inn and immediately froze, one hand still on the door.
Rudeus stood there for a long moment, his eyes scanning the street, trying to identify what was bothering him. A strange sensation, like he'd forgotten something important. Like he was missing something obvious that was right in front of him.
The feeling didn't go away.
He started walking toward the guild, but slower than usual, his senses heightened. He watched the people around him the baker arranging loaves in his window display, the blacksmith already working his forge despite the early hour, a group of women gossiping near the well.
They all looked… normal. Completely normal. People living their lives, unaware of the horror existing beneath their town.
Or were they aware? How many of these normal-looking people knew what was happening?
Rudeus was so lost in thought he didn't notice the man until they collided.
"Watch where you're going, asshole!" the man snapped, stumbling back.
"Sorry," Rudeus muttered.
The man glared at him for a moment, then seemed to think better of making an issue of it and walked away, still muttering under his breath.
Rudeus continued toward the guild, but that strange feeling persisted. Like the world was slightly out of focus. Like reality itself was wonky.
He saw Glen.
The researcher was emerging from a narrow alley between two buildings, looking around nervously before stepping onto the main street. His clothes were rumpled, his hair frazzled, and he had that same anxious energy that seemed to follow him everywhere.
Rudeus's eyebrows raised slightly. What had Glen been doing in an alley?
He didn't say anything, just watched as Glen turned and spotted him. The researcher's eyes lit up immediately, and he hurried over with that eager, slightly manic energy he always seemed to have.
"Rudeus! Hey!" Glen was slightly out of breath. "I was just— I mean, I've been doing some more surveillance and—"
"You're being suspicious," Rudeus interrupted flatly.
Glen blinked. "What?"
"Stop being so obvious. You look like you're about to rob someone." Rudeus gestured to Glen's general demeanor the nervous glances, the fidgeting, the way he kept looking over his shoulder. "If you're trying to blend in, you're failing."
"Right, right. Sorry." Glen made a visible effort to relax, though it didn't really work. He still looked like a bundle of nerves barely contained in human form. "I'm just paranoid, I guess. After last night, I keep thinking every guard I see is about to recognize us."
"They won't. We were in the dark, moving fast. They barely saw us." Rudeus started walking toward the guild again, and Glen fell into step beside him. "But you keep acting guilty, and they won't need to recognize us. They'll just arrest you on principle."
"You're right, you're right. I need to calm down." Glen took a deep breath. "It's just hard, you know? Knowing what we know, seeing all these people going about their day like nothing's wrong…"
They reached the guild and pushed through the doors. The morning crowd was in full swing adventurers shouting over each other, the smell of breakfast filling the air, the constant background noise of a dozen conversations happening at once.
Rudeus scanned the room automatically, looking for Sylvia's distinctive presence.
Nothing.
"She's out again," Glen said, noticing his search. He led them to a table in the corner, away from the worst of the noise. "Left about an hour before dawn. Apparently that party she went with yesterday was really impressed with her."
Rudeus sat down, his expression neutral. "Good for her."
"Actually…" Glen leaned in, lowering his voice. "I've been hearing things. Some of the established guilds have been asking about her. They want to recruit her permanently offer her a spot in their party, better equipment, access to higher-ranked missions." He paused, watching Rudeus's face. "What do you think about that?"
Rudeus shrugged. "She should join them if she wants."
Glen's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Just like that? You'd be okay with her leaving?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"I just thought I mean, you two are partners, aren't you? And after everything with you not wanting her to get hurt…" Glen trailed off, looking confused.
Rudeus picked up a menu from the table, scanning it without really reading. "If she wants to join a more established guild, that's her choice. I'm not going to stop her."
"But you'd be sad if she left, right?"
"No."
Glen stared at him. "No? Just… no? Come on, Rudeus. You can be honest with me. I've seen how you look at her—"
"You're reading things that aren't there." Rudeus set the menu down and met Glen's eyes. "Sylvia is free to make her own decisions. If she thinks she'd be better off with another party, she's probably right. I'm not exactly the easiest person to work with."
Glen shook his head slowly. "I don't buy that. You care about her, even if you won't admit it. But whatever, if you want to pretend you're made of stone, that's your business." He pulled out his notebook, flipping to a fresh page. "We should talk about our next steps anyway. What's the plan?"
Rudeus was quiet for a moment, organizing his thoughts. "We have two options. Either we find allies people we can trust who have the authority or power to actually do something about this. Or…"
"Or?"
"We go after the mayor directly. Take him hostage, force him to release the prisoners and confess to everything."
Glen's pen stopped moving. "That's… extreme."
"It's efficient."
"It's also incredibly dangerous. The mayor will have security, guards loyal to him personally. And even if we succeed, kidnapping a government official is a serious crime. We'd be fugitives."
"We'd be fugitives who freed dozens of people from slavery," Rudeus countered. "And we have evidence of his crimes."
"Would we though?" Glen interrupted. "Would any court believe us? We're nobodies. He's a mayor from an established family. Who do you think they'd believe?"
Rudeus leaned back in his chair. Glen had a point, but it didn't change the fundamental problem. "So what do you suggest? We can't go to the local authorities. Going to the regional governor will take weeks, and by then they could move everyone, destroy the evidence, make it look like we fabricated everything."
"I know, I know." Glen rubbed his face tiredly. "I just… I don't want us to make things worse. Those people are suffering, but if we act rashly and fail, their situation could get even worse. They could be moved somewhere we can't find them, or…" He didn't finish the sentence, but the implication was clear.
They sat in silence for a moment, the noise of the guild washing over them.
Finally, Rudeus spoke. "If we find allies, who would they be? Who in this town has the power to stand against the mayor and isn't already compromised?"
"I don't know," Glen admitted. "That's the problem. The corruption runs deep. Anyone with real power is either part of it or benefiting from it indirectly." He tapped his pen against his notebook. "But maybe we don't need someone in this town. Maybe we need to get word out to—"
"We're taking the mayor," Rudeus said suddenly.
Glen looked up, startled. "What?"
"Tonight. We take the mayor hostage, get him to confess everything, and use that to force them to act or he dies. It's the fastest way to end this."
"Rudeus, I really think we should—"
"Do you want to help those people or not?"
Glen closed his mouth, clearly conflicted. His fingers drummed on the table, his expression troubled. Finally, he sighed. "If that's what you think is best, then… okay. I'll follow your lead. You've gotten us this far."
"Good." Rudeus stood up. "Get some rest. We move after dark."
The mayor's estate was on the northern edge of town, a sprawling property surrounded by a high stone wall. Rudeus and Glen crouched in the shadows across the street, watching the guards patrol the perimeter.
"There," Rudeus whispered, pointing to a section of wall where two guards were talking instead of watching their sector. "That's our entry point."
Glen nodded nervously, clutching his satchel. "And once we're inside?"
"Follow me. Stay quiet. Don't touch anything."
They waited for the patrol pattern to create a gap, then moved. Rudeus scaled the wall easily, his movements fluid and silent. Glen struggled behind him, nearly losing his grip twice before Rudeus grabbed his arm and hauled him over.
They dropped into the estate gardens, landing in soft grass. Rudeus immediately moved toward the main house, keeping to the shadows, his steps silent. Glen followed less gracefully, his breathing already elevated.
There were guards at the main entrance, but Rudeus had no intention of going through the front door. He led Glen around to a side entrance a servant's door that was currently unguarded.
Rudeus tested the handle. It was locked, but it was a simple mechanism. He put his hand to the door knob then started to freeze the locking mechanism then after a bit he turned it sharply breaking it. and the door swung open.
They slipped inside.
The interior was dark and quiet. They were in a service hallway, lined with doors that probably led to kitchens, storage rooms, servant quarters. Rudeus moved forward carefully, listening for any sound of movement.
A guard appeared around a corner ahead of them.
Rudeus moved before the man could even register their presence. Three quick steps closed the distance. He ran over and in an instant decapitated that man the man's head rolled cleanly off his head and to rudeus feet and before his body could spout blood rudeus froze his body solid.
Glen seeing this was shocked and almost screamed but stopped himself.
"You killed him so brutally."
"It doesn't matter," Rudeus replied, already moving forward.
They encountered two more guards as they made their way deeper into the estate. Rudeus handled both the same way quick, taking their lives swiftly. Each time, Glen looked more uncomfortable, but he didn't say anything.
Finally, they reached what had to be the mayor's personal quarters a set of ornate double doors on the second floor. Rudeus pressed his ear against the wood, listening.
Someone was breathing. One person, probably asleep.
He tried the handle unlocked. He was stupid. The mayor felt safe in his own home, surrounded by guards and walls.
That arrogance was about to cost him.
Rudeus eased the door open and stepped inside. The room was large and luxuriously furnished. A massive bed dominated one wall, and in it, a portly man slept soundly, snoring softly.
Rudeus crossed the room in three silent strides and pressed his blade against the mayor's throat.
The mayor's eyes snapped open, panic flooding his features. He started to cry out, but Rudeus pressed the blade harder, drawing a thin line of blood.
"Quiet," Rudeus said softly. "Or this gets messy."
The mayor froze, his eyes wide with terror. "W-who are you? What do you want?"
"Information." Rudeus kept his voice low and calm. "The Red Lantern District. I want to know everything."
The mayor's face went even paler. "I don't—I don't know what you're talking about—"
Rudeus pressed the blade harder. "Don't lie. We know about the facilities, the debt contracts, the people you're enslaving. We have evidence. I'm giving you one chance to cooperate."
Glen closed the door behind them and moved to the window, keeping watch. His hands were shaking, but he kept his voice steady. "Just tell him what he wants to know. Please."
The mayor's eyes darted between them, calculating. Finally, he seemed to realize he had no good options. His shoulders sagged. "If I tell you… you'll let me live?"
"That depends on what you tell me," Rudeus said.
The mayor swallowed hard. "It started with my grandfather. Marcus Cornelius. He… he saw an opportunity. The town was smaller then, struggling. We needed labor for the docks, the warehouses, the… other businesses. But people wouldn't work for the wages we could afford to pay."
"So he created a system to trap them," Rudeus finished.
"It wasn't supposed to be like this!" The mayor's voice rose slightly before Rudeus reminded him with the blade to keep it down. "Originally, it was just… aggressive lending. But then the interest rates got worse, the terms got more predatory. My father expanded it, made it more systematic. By the time I inherited the position, it was already too big to dismantle. Too many people making money from it. Too many powerful people who would lose everything if it stopped."
"Names," Rudeus demanded. "Who else is involved?"
The mayor rattled off a list the guard captain, several prominent merchants, even some officials in neighboring towns who provided "fresh labor" in exchange for a cut of the profits. It was even bigger than Glen's research had suggested.
Rudeus listened, his mind working. Something about this felt wrong. The mayor was confessing everything, providing every detail they'd need to bring down the entire operation.
"The contracts," Rudeus said. "Where are they kept?"
"In the main facility. There's a vault in the basement office. That's where all the original documents are stored." The mayor's eyes were streaming now, tears of fear and shame running down his face. "Please, I know what we've done is terrible, but I was born into this. I didn't create it, I just—"
"You profited from it," Glen interrupted, stepping away from the window. His expression was hard. "You knew people were suffering, and you did nothing."
"I'm sorry," the mayor sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry—"
Rudeus studied the mayor's face, looking for deception. The man seemed genuinely terrified, genuinely remorseful. Or he was an excellent actor. Either way, they had what they needed a full confession and information about where the contracts were stored.
Glen moved closer, his earlier nervousness replaced by something like satisfaction. "We did it, Rudeus. We actually did it. With his testimony and the documents, we can—"
A high-pitched ringing suddenly filled Rudeus's head.
He stumbled back from the bed, singular hand flying to his temple. The sound was piercing, painful, like someone had stuck a needle directly into his brain. The room seemed to tilt, the walls bending at impossible angles.
"Rudeus?" Glen's voice sounded distant, distorted. "Are you okay?"
The ringing got louder. Through it, Rudeus thought he heard something else a voice but he couldn't place it.
"Rudeus,"
The ringing intensified, drowning out everything else. Rudeus dropped to one knee, his sword clattering to the floor. His vision blurred, doubled, the mayor's terrified face splitting into two overlapping images.
"Rudeus!" Glen was rushing toward him now, hands outstretched. "What's wrong? What's happening?"
The room twisted. The colors were wrong. Everything was wrong.
And that smell? Lemons Why did he smell lemons?
"Rudeus, talk to me!" Glen grabbed his shoulders, and the contact sent another spike of wrongness through Rudeus's mind.
The world split. The ringing reached its peak.