While news of football spread rapidly among the upper echelons of Mingze City, each faction quietly devised its own selfish plan to profit from what they viewed as a golden opportunity.
They failed to notice another, far subtler move unfolding in the shadows.
As dusk settled and the sun dipped below the horizon, the city gradually shifted into its nocturnal rhythm.
Lanterns flickered to life along the streets.
Gambling dens and brothels welcomed their regular clientele with eager smiles.
Tea houses filled with weary mercenaries recounting the day's adventures over steaming cups.
Merchants pulled down windows, closing their shops after long hours of trade.
In one modest bookstore near the western district, an old man with a long white beard prepared to close for the evening.
His shop was small but tidy, filled with scrolls and bound volumes stacked neatly upon wooden shelves.
