Hitman With A Badass System - Chapter 1246: Someone else wants Gaya

Tapping into the practical side of their predicament, Gaya suggested.

“Given we’re in what’s supposedly the wealthiest kingdom in all the realms of gods, there’s gotta be some runemaster around here who could help us out with this dragon globe.”

Michael, though keen on the idea, expressed a more immediate need. “Sounds like a plan, but damn, I really want to catch some sleep first.”

With that, Michael made his way to the bed, not bothering to undress, and promptly closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep. Gaya, following suit, nestled beside him, and soon, both were lost to the world in a deep, restorative slumber.

After what felt like an age, the vibrant life of the golden city of Aurumvale beckoned again as night fell over the realm. The city, bathed in the glow of the night sky, sparkled with an ethereal light. Michael, waking from their long rest, walked over to the window, drawn by the mesmerizing view outside.

The golden buildings shimmered, their architecture accentuated by the moonlight and the myriad of colorful lights that adorned them. These lights, akin to neon in their vibrancy, lit up the entire kingdom, casting a magical glow that made the city come alive in ways it didn’t during the daylight hours. From his vantage point, Michael could see the streets bustling with activity, the atmosphere charged with energy and the promise of endless possibilities.

“Let’s go find ourselves a runemaster,” Michael ran his fingers through his hair, straightening it out with a half-hearted attempt to look presentable.

Leaving the comfort of their Diamond Room behind, Michael led the way back to the counter, where the elven lady greeted them with the same level of respect and courtesy as before. “I hope your stay has been pleasant so far. Is there anything else you require?” she inquired, her professionalism unfaltering.

Taking the initiative, Gaya didn’t bother with pleasantries. “We’re looking for a runemaster. Someone skilled enough to help us with a… particularly tricky situation,” she said, her directness cutting through any potential small talk.

The elven lady, unfazed by Gaya’s blunt request, responded promptly. “Runemaster Abran is who you seek. His expertise is unmatched, but I must warn you, his services don’t come cheap, and he has a penchant for the challenging. Nothing else piques his interest.”

Michael couldn’t help but chuckle at that. “Challenging is our middle name, and we’re willing to pay whatever it takes. Where can we find him?”

Pleased to provide assistance, the elven lady gave them detailed directions. “You’ll find Runemaster Abran in the northern district of Aurumvale, just past the Crystal Fountain. His workshop is the one with the emerald ivy growing over the entrance. You can’t miss it.”

As Michael and Gaya made their way through the bustling streets of Aurumvale, snippets of conversation floated around them, painting a grim picture of the fate that befell the adventurers from the dungeon.

“I heard the adventures who entered the dungeon were killed inside by the traps…Every last one of them, dead as a doornail,” one elf remarked, a tone of somberness in his voice.

“Yeah, well, serves them right for being so damn greedy. Always looking for a quick coin,” another snickered, her disdain barely concealed.

Gaya, overhearing these exchanges, leaned in towards Michael and chuckled softly. “Seems like they think we’re all dead.”

Michael, with a calmness that seemed to effortlessly counter the bustling energy around them, responded, “What we’re hearing isn’t the whole truth, but news does have a way of spreading fast.”

Their journey continued, guided by the directions given, until they arrived at a structure that could only be described as opulent. The building before them boasted grand arches and walls adorned with intricate emerald ivy, just as they had been told. Its doors, wide and welcoming, led them into an interior that was equally lavish, with high ceilings and walls lined with shelves filled with ancient tomes and glittering artifacts.

Inside, the atmosphere was one of understated elegance, with groups of affluent noble elves engaging in hushed conversations. Each group was attended by an elf who seemed well-versed in the dealings of runes and magic.

Nearby, Michael and Gaya overheard a group discussing their needs with an elf representative of Abran. “We’re in need of protective runes to be engraved around our castle,” one noble elf explained, his request laced with urgency.

The representative, a young elven girl with an air of professionalism, rubbed her chin thoughtfully before responding. “That task, while important, is fairly common. Any runemaster could assist you with that. I wouldn’t hold out much hope for Runemaster Abran taking on such a… routine job.”

Her response, though polite, carried an underlying message that Abran’s talents were reserved for challenges far beyond the ordinary, reinforcing the notion that only the most complex and intriguing tasks captured his interest. As Michael and Gaya absorbed the scene before them, a youthful elf quickly made his way over, his approach markedly less refined than what they had encountered at the ‘Corn Bread’. “What do you want?” he asked, his bluntness cutting through any pretense of courtesy.

Michael, well-versed in the ways of elves, especially those with specialized skills like runemasters, wasn’t taken aback by the lack of warmth. Elves were known for their arrogance, a trait that seemed amplified within the circles of those skilled in specializations. He was here with a purpose, not to critique their social graces.

In response, Michael was direct. “We’ve come across something that might pique Runemaster Abran’s interest,” he said, pulling the small globe from his pocket and presenting it to the elf.

The elf’s demeanor shifted upon seeing the globe, his eyebrows knitting together in a frown, then widening in realization at the complexity of the rune work and engravings adorning the globe. Taking the item from Michael, he donned a pair of golden glasses and began to inspect the globe closely, his fascination evident. “Fascinating,” he murmured, lost in the intricacies of the object.

Gaya, impatient with the young elf’s absorbed examination, cut to the chase. “So, when can we meet Runemaster Abran?” she demanded, her bluntness mirroring that of their initial greeting.

The elf, pausing his examination, looked up at them, his gaze lingering on Gaya a moment longer than necessary, a sly smile flickering across his face. “I’ll inform Runemaster Abran immediately,” he said, though his attention seemed divided.

As he turned to walk away, globe in hand, Gaya couldn’t help but issue a warning, her tone sharp. “You better not fuck with that globe,” she called after him, her protective instinct over their mission clear.

After a brief wait that seemed to stretch out under the weight of anticipation, the young elf returned, his expression adorned with a smile that seemed to barely mask his true feelings. “Runemaster Abran has taken an interest in your globe,” he announced, his voice carrying a tone that attempted to convey excitement. “He will see you now.”

At his words, a ripple of murmurs spread through the nearby elven group. “Can you believe it? Giving humans priority over us,” one elf whispered loudly enough for Michael and Gaya to hear, his tone a mix of disbelief and indignation.

Choosing to overlook the slight, Michael and Gaya followed the elf, their focus undeterred by the petty grievances of those around them. They were led to a golden door, its surface a masterpiece of runes and emerald stones that seemed to pulsate with magic.

With a press of a glowing rune near the doorway, the door swung open, revealing an interior that was the epitome of opulence. The room was adorned with roses, an assortment of wine bottles, and at the center, a golden-haired elf reclined on a luxurious mattress. This figure was draped in robes that spoke of wealth and status, surrounded by a diverse group of elven, human, and half-elf attendants. Two elf twins, each possessing a stunning beauty, were gently feeding him grapes, contributing to the decadent scene before them.

As the door shut behind them, the young elf clapped his hands for attention and announced. “You stand in the presence of Abran, the Six-Star Runemaster, descendant of the God Luxor himself.” The grandeur of Abran’s appearance matched the grandiosity of his introduction. His hair shimmered like spun gold, and his robes, intricately designed and richly colored, enveloped him in an aura of nobility and power.

Upon learning that Abran was a descendant of the God Luxor, Michael and Gaya could immediately understand the roots of his almost tangible arrogance. It was a detail that painted his demeanor in a new light, but one they chose to overlook in favor of focusing on their goal.

Michael, ever direct, wasted no time. “Can you extract the dragon body from this globe?” he inquired, holding the item up for Abran’s inspection.

Abran reclined among his lavish surroundings, let out a snicker, his gaze flitting between Gaya and the globe with a discerning eye. After leisurely enjoying a grape offered by one of the twins, he finally addressed Michael. “The craftsmanship of this globe is no amateur’s work. Had you taken it to any lesser runemaster, you’d have been shit out of luck. But for me? Child’s play. It’s a task only I can accomplish,” he declared with a confidence that bordered on arrogance.

Gaya, catching the way Abran’s eyes lingered on her, felt a mix of irritation and discomfort, but she managed to keep her tone even. “Okay, then,” she said, not wanting to provoke a confrontation.

Michael, maintaining his composure, cut to the chase. “What’s your price?” he asked, knowing that a runemaster of Abran’s caliber wouldn’t offer his services without significant compensation.

Abran’s response was accompanied by a chuckle, one that hinted at the weight of his demands. “My price is quite simple,” he began, “I want you,” he stated, his gaze locking onto Gaya with an intensity that made her skin crawl.