"Hmph!"
The leader of the trio—a scarred man with eyes like chips of black ice—didn't immediately respond. He walked slowly through the shop, examining the merchandise with apparent casualness that fooled no one.
His companions flanked the entrance, their positioning clearly designed to prevent escape or outside interference.
Rey watched them with outward calm, but internally, satisfaction bloomed.
'Finally…' he thought, keeping his expression neutral.
'... You've come!'
One month of careful preparation.
One month of building reputation and attracting the right kind of attention.
One month of playing the role of a struggling but quality merchant who might be desperate enough, ambitious enough, or connected enough to be useful to the underworld.
And now the gatekeepers had arrived to determine if Modred Helt was worth bringing into the fold.
