Godfather's System - 221. Exaltation - 13

When I walked toward the gate, there wasn’t any line, with most people leaving the town. A great number of them carried tents with them, showing their intent to join the growing temporary town outside rather than to stay in the town, mumbling about overcharging inn owners.

I moved in the reverse direction until I stood in front of a guard. “How much for the entrance fee, brave guard?” I asked.

“Sixteen denicas, old man,” he answered, his tone without infliction, reminding me of a bouncer in a crowded club, fed up explaining to people the rules of the entrance. Understandable, as sixteen denicas was pretty high for an entrance fee, particularly for a solo traveler, which meant he had likely received a lot of complaints.

“Wow, a bit steep, isn’t it,” I asked, not wanting to be too memorable.

“Them’s the new rules,” he answered, his tone exasperated. “Either pay, or go find yourself a tent. Also, anyone still out in the streets when the curfew begins will be kicked out of the town,” he explained, keeping his frustration in check.

I wonder just how badly the inns were overcharging to use the new laws to their advantage, and how much of it was drained by the noble in charge through one-time taxes and ‘optional’ service charges.

I looked back, taking note of the crowded tents. “I have spent too much of my life sleeping on the ground already,” I muttered as I passed him a piece of silver weighing about twenty-five denicas.

The guard took it, but when I opened my hand to receive the extra, I only received a sharp gaze. “Walk along, old man, or sleep in the tents,” he said, showing that he wanted to charge me with some question tax.

How rude.

If I was idle, I would have asked him to give the silver back and see how he would react, and escalate the situation. I had a very specific dislike toward the lower-ranking law enforcement that acted like petty bullies, mostly because they had been a bane for me and everything around us while growing up, and even after setting up my organization, they had been a persistent annoyance. Too many idiots let that scrap of power go to their heads, and I had to deal with them.

“So be it,” I said as I moved forward in acceptance, and the guard shared a victorious smirk with his partner … wholly unaware that I had stolen his dagger and money pouch.

It was a magic dagger. Poorly made, but still mana forged, and it was stamped by the sigil of the noble. It looked like standard-issue.

The trouble he would get for losing the weapon was the payment for his bullying, and his money pouch was the interest.

As an added benefit, a marked weapon might be very useful for framing someone.

I sighed, content as I walked into the town. Unfortunately, I didn’t have time to revel in my petty victory, and turned my attention to my immediate surroundings, observing people while I walked toward the richer parts of the city.

Going house by house was a possibility, but unlike tents, there were many houses with anti-eavesdropping measures. It was easier to talk with guards.

As the curfew approached, the people of the town moved rapidly. I listened to their gossip while moving forward, trying to hear some gossip about the forced migration, but they avoided it as well. The few times that someone drifted close to the topic, other people shushed them.

Discussing the topic was clearly forbidden, and from their reluctance, it was clear that the order was being enforced strictly.

It started to make me wonder about the identity of the man I had saved. I had already known that he couldn’t be someone ordinary, as gods didn’t waste their power by cursing unimportant people. But, the gag order that prevented people from even discussing the situation seemed a bit too excessive.

It was starting to feel like the ant hill I kicked was filled with bullet ants.

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I just sighed. If it had happened, then it had happened. I just needed to understand the type of problem my unintentional recruit was, and decide whether to support him even further, or solve the problem … permanently if necessary.

I stopped thinking about that as I searched for an expensive inn that was frequented by knights and guard captains, but one I could still enter disguised as a hunter. I could have disguised myself, but a rich and bored hunter had the excuse to ask some curious questions. A hunting trip in the wilderness explained a lot.

A few pointed questions, supported by a couple Charisma pokes, pointed me toward an inn that had also allowed some high-stakes gambling, frequented by the guards and some minor nobles.

When I arrived at the target inn, the guard at the door looked at me. “Hey, friend. Are you sure you want to come here? It’s not exactly cheap —” he started, only to stop when I threw a silver ingot his way. The same twenty-five denica one that I used at the entrance, taken back with the pouch of the guard.

“Good hunt?” the guard asked, his attitude changing. As his attitude changed, I relaxed my stance slightly, giving several signs of my strength, enough for the guard to read that I was a level-sixty individual with a common class. While that was not enough to put someone into the upper echelons, it was enough to turn someone into a valuable customer for an inn.

Ultimately, this was a hunting town, and decent hunters with a lucky haul had a good way to make money. Twenty-five denicas as a tip for the guard signaled exactly that kind of money.

“Decent, but certainly troubling,” I answered. “I had to stay in the wilderness for a month to catch the rare beast the spoiled merchant required, but at least they paid half of the promised amount.”

“It’s good that you asked them three times what it’s worth, then,” the guard commented, responding to my large smile.

“Five times,” I said, and he looked surprised. “There were benefits to being an old hunter, young man. It’s far easier to convince a spoiled merchant that only a truly experienced hunter could discover what he had been searching for,” I said.

“Good point. Maybe I should try that next time,” he said, chuckling as he gestured for me to go inside. I wouldn’t say no to lightening a grubby merchant’s wallet. People might have been afraid of gossiping about the nobles, but merchants had no such social protections.

The inn didn’t look particularly good from the outside. Just three floors, made of vitality-infused stone, and decorated sparsely. However, even the corridor was far better decorated, the plates and weapons inlaid with silver leading in, with a couple glowing lights, powered with mana stones.

Mana stones weren’t as rare in the mainland as they had been in the border regions — at least, before Set’s little temper tantrum filled the area with dungeons — but still, they were a display of wealth. Using them for illumination was not a small thing.

However, while the decorative items looked nice, they were nowhere near as valuable as they actually looked. For example, silver-inlaid swords were actually made of wood but plated with a thin layer of metal to make them look precious, and the porcelain of the plates was low quality.

It reminded me more of a tourist trap than an actual high-class place, which was even better. It was exactly the kind of place a guard captain that rose from the commoners would spend time, thinking that it made them classier.

Meanwhile, the guard must have alerted the waiters that I was a rich customer, because one of them greeted me at the other side of the corridor with the kind smile of a head waiter that had just smelled a hefty tip. Good trick. “This way, master hunter,” he said as he led me to a nice table, away from the doors and windows.

He examined me through my reflection to avoid staring, trying to assess not only my wealth potential, but also my interests. I noticed him checking my bow, and noticing it wasn’t as good. I hadn’t gone through the trouble of changing it. A small mistake on my part. The more I handled problems with the help of the System, the less I paid attention to important details.

At least I still have a magic sword with me.

I was starting to understand why the nobles of the world felt so incompetent. I was challenging someone who always used a calculator to a competition of mental arithmetics.

Luckily, that mistake didn’t come at a problematic time. I had a way to explain it silently, and it was a good way to ‘show’ my interest for more. I looked at the card games that were around with interest, replicating a particular fervor to my expression to look like a gambling addict. It was a subtle thing, but since the waiter had noticed the problem with my bow, there was a high chance that he would notice that expression as well.

“Do you play cards, master hunter?” he said.

“Well, I dabble occasionally for fun,” I said, though even as I said that, I looked at the table wistfully, like I was looking at the love of my life, who was just marrying another man. “However, the last few times didn’t go well, so…” I muttered, tapping my bow surreptitiously, as if it was a reflective action.

That way, not only did I explain why I was carrying such a poor bow, but also that I had many tells. Combined with an implied gambling addiction, I was the perfect mark.

The waiter made a subtle gesture, and one of the players received it, but to my surprise, he didn’t stand up until five minutes later, when I was seated and waiting for my food.

The game paused momentarily, and they started searching for someone to fill the seat.

Not a bad bait.

Too bad for them that they were trying to fish out a King Beast.