Lucien arrived near the old bakery. The building looked abandoned—its wooden windows were cracked, and vines had started to grow around the walls. Dust covered the glass, and the air smelled like old flour and ash. Lucien glanced at the small paper again.
"Black cat… green eyes… name's Moki," he muttered, placing the paper into his coat pocket.
He closed his eyes and activated a simple detection spell. It sent out a wave of aura from his feet to the surroundings. He immediately sensed some weak movements in the narrow alley beside the bakery. Lucien walked quietly into the alley, passing some trash bins and broken crates. Then, he paused. A soft sound—like a cat meowing.
"Found you," he whispered.
On top of a barrel, a small black cat with green eyes stared at him cautiously. Its fur was dirty, but its eyes were sharp. The cat hissed a little but didn't run.
Lucien slowly crouched down and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small piece of dried meat. "I'm not here to hurt you."
The cat sniffed the air, then jumped down from the barrel and walked slowly toward him. When it got close enough, it snatched the dried meat and ate it quickly.
Lucien moved gently, and in one swift motion, picked the cat up. It squirmed a little but didn't resist too much. He stood up and looked at the small tag around its neck—it said "Moki."
"You've been hiding for days," he said calmly. "Let's bring you home."
He turned around and walked back toward the Mercenary Guild. On his way, the people stared, some whispering about a noble holding a dirty cat. Lucien ignored all of them.
When he returned to the guild, the man at the counter blinked."…You actually found it?"
Lucien placed the cat on the counter. "Mission complete."
The man scratched his head, chuckled, then reached under the counter and dropped two silver coins into Lucien's hand. "Didn't think you'd waste your time on that one, but hey, good job."
Lucien didn't answer. He just nodded and walked outside. As he stepped into the open air, Lucien looked up at the sky—it was already late afternoon. The sun was slowly falling beyond the city walls, painting the sky orange and red.
He walked slowly through the 12th district, observing everything. Children ran through the muddy roads, some laughing, some begging. Shops were old and barely functioning. Guards were few, and crime seemed normal here. Lucien's eyes narrowed. 'This place is rotting at the edge… yet no one fixes it.'
He continued walking until he reached a small wooden bench under a tree at the far end of the district. He sat down, leaned back, and looked at the sky.
His coat moved softly with the breeze, and his veiled hat cast a shadow over his eyes.
From his coat pocket, he pulled out a small pendant—something from a memory long past. He looked at it in silence.
"Even if I wander… there are things I still want to change," he said softly.
Meanwhile, in a different part of the 12th district, a group of shady-looking men gathered near a dark alley. One of them wore red armor, dirty and rusted, and his eyes were filled with greed.
"That noble kid… he's been walking around here alone," the man said, licking his lips. "Let's rob him tonight. Fancy coat, smooth hands. Probably soft as silk."
Another man chuckled. "You sure? He doesn't look normal. I heard he found the missing cat in less than an hour."
The red-armored man laughed. "It's just a cat. Don't be a coward."
They didn't know—tonight, they weren't hunting a noble. They were hunting a storm in disguise.
Back at the bench, Lucien stood up. He sensed something in the air. Not hostility—yet—but eyes were already on him.
He walked again, this time heading toward the center of the 12th district. The deeper he went, the more chaotic it became. He passed a black market, saw gamblers fighting, thieves stealing in the open, and guards looking the other way.
Then he found a wall filled with wanted posters. Most of them were torn or old. But one caught his eye.
WANTED: Mayven the Chain Beast
Reward: 300 silver – Last seen in 12th District
Crimes: Murder, Extortion, Kidnapping
Lucien stared at the poster quietly, then touched the paper.
This district is worse than I thought.
He didn't take the bounty—yet. But he remembered the name. Mayven.
For now, Lucien decided to rest at a small inn nearby. The inn looked dusty but quiet. He entered and dropped a few silver coins on the table. "One night," he said calmly.
The old man behind the counter nodded and handed him a key."Room number 3."
Lucien walked upstairs and entered the small room. It had a bed, a desk, and a small window. He removed his coat and hung it by the door. Then he sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the window. Night would fall soon. 'This city... is just a puzzle piece in a bigger picture.' Lucien closed his eyes and let the silence surround him. But even in sleep, a sword was always within reach.
As the night deepened, the streets outside turned quieter. The sounds of shouting and laughter faded, replaced by the occasional footsteps and a distant howl of a dog.
Lucien opened his eyes. He could feel it—someone was watching. He stood up from the bed without making a sound. His fingers brushed the edge of his sheathed sword as he slowly walked to the window. He peeked outside without moving the curtain too much.
Across the street, on top of a roof, was a silhouette. Still. Watching.
Lucien's eyes narrowed. Whoever it was, they weren't ordinary. Their aura was masked, but the stillness was too controlled. A trained killer.
'Am I being watched already?' he thought.
Then, as if on cue, the figure disappeared. Lucien didn't panic. Instead, he moved to the desk and unrolled a blank piece of paper. He drew a small rune at the center and poured a small amount of aura into it. A faint glow appeared on the paper—it was a simple detection glyph. He placed it by the door.
"If anyone enters, I'll know," he whispered.
Lucien lay on the bed again, one arm under his head, the other resting near his sword.
'The 12th District... is more than just poverty and chaos. Someone is moving in the dark.' He thought about the boy and his sister. About Kalios, about the fake peacefulness of the upper districts. Everything felt like a cover. Then, he remembered the name on the wanted poster. 'Mayven the Chain Beast.'
A cruel smile crept on Lucien's lips. "I'll look for you tomorrow."
As the wind outside blew softly and the moon shone behind gray clouds, Lucien finally closed his eyes. Sleep came, but his senses never rested. After all, even a wanderer has instincts sharper than blades.