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A city now more famous by its nickname, “the Lawless Zone,” than its original name.

In the slums of Requitas, rumors spread that you could kill someone for a mere handful of bread.

In the alleys reeking of musty smells, corpses lay around like stones, and people regarded them with indifference.

To them, a corpse was no different from the trash scattered on the streets. In fact, they didn’t see themselves as any different either.

More than half of the city was an evil den of crime.

Criminals who couldn’t live in ordinary places. Mercenaries who broke contracts, deserters who feared the battlefield, and the like flowed into this societal sewage dump.

Even the Emperor, who fancied himself the father of the Empire, had lost interest in this land, leaving it steeped in the stench of alcohol.

“Give him another hit!”

“Goddamn bastard! Already down after a few punches? If you lose me money, I’ll rip your mouth apart!”

“Hahaha! That’s right! Gouge his eyes out!”

A dive bar selling cheap liquor.

On the worn wooden floor, two men were throwing punches at each other.

Their faces were already marked with red scars and bloodstains from the repeated blows exchanged.

Not only did the onlookers show no intention of stopping the fight, but even the bar owner seemed to welcome the sudden brawl.

Frankly, the liquor he sold wasn’t very good, and to sell more of it, he needed some entertaining spectacle.

As a result, fights broke out in this bar every single day.

It wasn’t particularly unusual to see two rough men fighting; it wasn’t a large-scale brawl involving dozens of people.

Thus, something out of the ordinary referred to a different type of event.

For instance, seeing a well-dressed man and woman enter this shabby place.

A swordsman exuding an aura of danger. A lady so valuable she wore a veil to hide even a single strand of hair and the slightest hint of her eyes.

As soon as the two entered, the bar fell silent. Even the men who had been punching each other stopped their fight momentarily.

In the halted time, the two moved leisurely.

The swordsman took a seat close to the owner, and the lady silently followed to sit beside him.

Three silver coins were placed in front of the owner.

“Give me a drink of whatever you’re best at. The lady next to me will be fine with just cold water.”

“That seems like too much money for that.”

“Isn’t it good to receive more?”

“If you’re just planning to buy drinks.”

The owner was a seasoned man.

In a rough place like this, running a “bar” naturally required experience.

Instead of hastily grabbing the silver coins, he picked up a glass first.

“If you order what we’re best at or the most expensive, there’s always one drink I serve. It’s called ’Tomorrow’s Tears.’”

“I’m curious about the origin.”

“It means if you drink it, you’ll wake up tomorrow. It’s pretty strong.”

A chuckle escaped from under his white beard and wrinkled mouth.

Suddenly, he took one of the silver coins.

“I don’t want to look like an accomplice, so I’ll earn my keep. Watch your back.”

With those words, the swordsman reached back.

It seemed he hadn’t even checked properly, but his hand precisely grabbed and took away a club.

The whole process looked as easy as taking a toy from a child.

The owner decided to divert his attention from the swordsman.

The future events were too predictable to bother being curious.

“It seems there might be some commotion.”

“It’s fine. Just don’t let too much blood splatter. It’s hard to clean up.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The swordsman swung the club he had taken as if it had always been his.

The first strike was to the arm, the next to the ribs, and finally to the temple, all in an instant. Each hit was precise.

The fluidity of his movements left no room for awkwardness.

At his waist hung an ordinary longsword.

If what he had in his hand had been that sword…

As this thought crossed the attacker’s mind, his feet instinctively stepped back.

It was a meaningless act.

The swordsman closed the gap in one swift move and knocked the man out with a single blow.

Two men lay sprawled on the floor in a ridiculous state.

‘Does he refrain from killing?’

The owner wondered.

Even though they had made the first move, the swordsman had not killed them.

If it had been a mutual fistfight, it might have been different, but such an ambush was akin to robbery.

Had he killed them, it wouldn’t have been a blemish in this lawless Requitas.

“Here is ‘Tomorrow’s Tears.’ Since you seem busy, I’ll just leave it here.”

A drink placed on the table. For the first time, the lady, who had been quiet until now, showed interest.

Tomorrow’s Tears appeared to be an elegant cocktail.

Though it was mostly filled with cheap rum, its turquoise color gave it a mystical look.

It was at that moment when the lady picked up the glass.

Her attention was entirely on the drink, and the swordsman was moving the unconscious men to a corner.

In other words, it was the perfect condition for another ambush.

Several thugs approached the lady from behind, and soon the sound of a chair hitting the floor was heard.

The chair had fallen with a person.

The owner glanced over.

“Cleaning up three bodies in one night is quite the task. Can I take another silver coin?”

“You’ve got quite the skill for an old man.”

“Couldn’t run this place without it.”

“Indeed.”

One thug had a dagger precisely embedded in the back of his head.

But were there three fallen men? It seemed the lady had whispered something quietly.

Still, how could that result in death? The owner felt curious, but his old instincts held him back. In the end, no one dared to touch the man and woman.

He was a man who knew the virtue of restraint.

The swordsman sat down again.

He was breathing normally, as if nothing had happened.

“If I give that last coin back, could you pour a drink for everyone in the bar?”

“There’s plenty of money, but why the affection for them?”

“Think of it as a bribe from us. If they cause more trouble, consider it as a drink for their graves.”

“You want them to keep quiet. Understood.”

The owner knew well how to handle the patrons of Requitas.

His fist slammed into the bar with a loud bang.

“The gentleman here says take a drink or draw your swords and come at him! He’s kindly offered to take your heads himself!”

“I don’t recall saying it that way.”

“Think of it as industry parlance. Just as the lady uses refined speech, we have our own ways of speaking. They need to hear this to understand ’Oh, he’s just here for a quiet drink.’”

“Interesting. It seems we chose the right bar. But who drank this?”

“The lady here.”

The swordsman met the lady’s eyes.

Though her face was veiled, the owner felt that their eyes truly met.

For the first time, her sweet voice rang out.

“It tasted awful.”

“That’s not what I’m curious about.”

“You always stop me from drinking. I was especially curious this time.”

“Your drinking habits are problematic. Last time at the mercenary camp, you clearly...”

“If you say any more, I might kill everyone in this bar. For the sake of my honor.”

“......”

Just because she’s a noblewoman doesn’t mean her language is always refined.

The owner chuckled.

He noticed the swordsman’s hand in his view.

Though his palm was covered by fingerless gloves, calluses marked his fingers.

And his nonchalant attitude toward everything. Despite looking young, there was no doubt he was an exceptionally skilled swordsman.

Certainly not someone the thugs around here could challenge.

Come to think of it, this kind of thing happened occasionally.

Formidable individuals would sometimes wander into this lawless city.

Whenever that happened, bloodshed was inevitable. The owner decided he would close the shop for a while.

Fortunately, he saw an opportunity for a substantial amount of money right in front of him.

“If the drink was disappointing, perhaps this old man’s stories might interest you.”

“I’m willing to pay well for good content.”

“That’s music to my ears. As one gets older, one tends to know quite a bit about the happenings around here.”

“Then, are you good at finding people?”

People.

The owner sensed a strong whiff of blood from that word.

Getting too involved would surely end badly.

“My body is too old to run around. You, being young, might find it easier to search yourself.”

“For someone who talks like that, you seem quite fit. Your arms look thicker than mine.”

“Just a bit of morning exercise. So, who are you looking for in this dump?”

“The name is quite old. About four years. Can you recall?”

“I haven’t gone senile yet. Four years is still fresh in my mind.”

At that moment, the swordsman and the lady exchanged glances.

A silent conversation. The owner decided to wait patiently.

In his mind, he was already planning his vacation.

Maybe he should start packing slowly and leave by tomorrow?

In fact, the three silver coins they gave him were more than enough to cover a month’s revenue for this shabby bar.

“The name... I’m sure it was Kirux. A former ranger deserter, a tough guy in this city.”

“Familiar name. About four years ago, right? Heard he took a job and got killed.”

“I have some connections with Kirux. I’d like to know about the people involved. The reward will be generous. More than enough.”

The owner finally understood the two of them.

They were avengers. Ones with a deep-seated thirst for vengeance.

He revised his plans.

Leaving this city as soon as possible would be wise. Maybe even tonight.

A very quiet storm was brewing before his eyes.

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