"That's me."

Contrary to his expectations, the young man posed no particular reaction to his introduction.

Boss Prophet scoffed and, yanking the leashed guy to the side, rose from the couch.

He was at least two heads taller than Edris. Boss Prophet crossed his arms and leaned forward, studying the latter in amusement.

“What a poor, scrawny guy you are. What was Johen thinking?” His breath reeking of a mix of garlic and alcohol, he scoffed. “It looks like the bastard’s itching for a beating again. Should it be to his son this time?”

While Edris stood indifferent, Celio already pressed his hand to the dagger at his side, ready to make a move. Noticing the beast tamer’s actions, Faren gave him a subtle shake of the head, telling him not to do anything rash.

The mage’s gaze fell on the sheets of paper scattered on the table, each filled lists of names with numbers beside them.

The tattooed-man standing before them seemed to be a rent collector in the Slums. Faren suspected that the drunkard from earlier, Johen, must have been either one of his subordinates or a mid-man between the residents and the land tenure.

He leaned towards the latter speculation. After witnessing Johen’s earlier state, he found it suspicious how the man managed to secure such a large amount of alcohol for himself. It was the Slums, after all. Forget about lavishing on alcohol, the average resident barely subsisted with their current resources.

Even as a land tenure, it would be difficult to obtain such resources—unless he had connections with the higher-ups.

And what did higher-ups have access to that would otherwise be difficult to obtain?

Information.

“Johen didn’t tell us to come here. We threatened him to give us the passcode.” Despite all the provoking comments the man threw out, Edris only smiled at him. “You have information on the Underground Prison Sect, correct?”

At his words, Boss Prophet stopped whatever he was about to do and eyed him in silence. He fell back to the couch with a laidback smile.

Despite the fact that Edris had just admitted to threatening one of his subordinates, the man remained unfazed, resting his chin on his palm as he looked at Edris intriguingly.

The next moment, a sack was thrown onto the table before him. Boss Prophet’s eyes widened as a gold yone rolled out of the bag.

“Information,” Edris repeated, ignoring the look on his face. “Do you have them?”

Boss Prophet’s initial bewilderment faded, replaced by a chuckle that eventually erupted into full-out laughter. The man was so pleased he was laughing nonstop like a maniac.

“I see you know the rules well! Oh, I love working with smart people like you.” Finally sitting back up, he wiped a tear from his eye. “You’re trying to participate in the Hunt, aren’t you? Silly me, of course you’re here for that!”

“The Hunt?” Celio and Faren both held dumbfounded looks. Edris raised an eyebrow, prompting the man to continue.

“I heard they’ve imported some good ones this year. You’ll need to be registered to get in the venue," Johen said. "But of course, with me—the Fallen Prophet—here, that won’t be a problem.”

“I only need information.”

“You won’t be saying that once you see them in person. Only then will you understand how marvellous they are. Actually, a batch of them actually happens to be here.” Eyeing the bag of gold yones again, Boss Prophet licked his lips as he looked towards Edris. “I like you, so you get a special benefit. In fact, I’ll give you a glance at them right now!”

With a snap of his fingers, the door behind them swung open. A guard walked into the room, and following him were five others.

“What…” Faren subconsciously mumbled out loud as Celio instinctively covered his eyes.

Edris’s expression darkened.

Of the five new bodies in the room, three were females, and two were males. Like the man on the leash, they were dressed in thin rags, covering the bare minimum of their body. The five stood in a line, shivering.

“You’re lucky you have a nice face. I happen to be especially kind to people with nice faces.” Boss Prophet leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. “It took a while to tame them for the Hunt, but it's worth it. Have your pick.”

Behind Edris, Faren Ablemore snuck a glance at the five people. His pupils constricted at the sight.

Rather than expressions of fright, the five, standing still by the door, were peering towards Edris with what he would describe as an absurd look of anticipation.

Not anger nor fear, but anticipation.

Faren’s stomach churned.

Seemingly to have noticed the young beast tamer’s expression, Boss Prophet smirked. “Surprised? Don’t be. These people know how to make you have a good time. After all, they got to be worth their cost, right?”

“I’m here for information,” Edris said again, his gaze remaining on Boss Prophet.

“That’s strange. You don’t seem like the shy type…” Boss Prophet clicked his tongue in a regretful manner. With a flick of the wrist, one of his subordinates brought over another document. He threw a folder onto the table.

“The guest list as well as the overview of the Hunt tomorrow night. All yours.”

Flipping through the pages, Edris raised an eyebrow.

Even if Boss Prophet was a landlord associated with the Sect, this information wasn’t the type to be given to someone just because of one’s affiliation.

Amidst Edris’s thoughts, another voice spoke up.

"Are you looking to be happy?" The girl standing in the rightmost position raised her hand. "Shea can help."

Looking to be in her teens, the girl had auburn hair up to her waist and freckled skin. She was petite for her age. The girl stepped out in her bare feet.

Despite the chains binding around her ankles, she inched towards Edris. She reached to tug his cloak, but the man stepped away, leaving her hand to dangle in mid-air. The girl glanced up with her round eyes. “Don't you want to be happy? Shea can do anything.”

“A strange one, but she does a good job. We didn't even have to tame her.” Boss Prophet said, licking his lips as if recalling something.

“Master… This is…” Celio clenched his jaws as he glimpsed the man in front of him.

At the beast tamer’s apprehension, Edris didn’t respond. Instead, he turned toward the man on the couch.

“Are you in charge of the Hunt?”

“Of course not. I’m one of the guest list organisers. Those people are on another level. “ Boss Prophet didn’t think much of Edris’s question as he shrugged. “Hey. Don’t be greedy now, alright? The folder I gave you already has all the information I know. Tch. If it weren’t for the fact you’re loaded, I would never—”

Before he could finish his sentence, Boss Prophet flinched as his vision clouded. The next thing he knew, he was yanked off the couch, with one side of his face smashed against the table.

Blood spurted from his nose, dripping to the metal surface beneath his face.

The hooded traveller who calmly stood a moment ago now had his gloved hand over his hair, while the other continued to skim through the booklet papers.

“So this is all the information you had?” Edris said, pensive. “Makes things easier.”

Celio’s jaw dropped.

In his mind, his Master had always been the gentle one, upholding a calm yet reliable demeanour.

This was his first time seeing him resort to violence.

The abrupt turn of events left everyone in a momentary daze. The guards hurriedly rushed forth to stop Edris, only to be taken back again by the purple fog leaking out from him.

Seeing that Edris had made his move, Celio immediately followed on. The beast tamer lunged forth, pulling his dagger from his side. The next moment, the guards tumbled onto the ground, knocked unconscious.

Edris brought out a handkerchief from his pocket and smoothed it over his glove, one finger at a time, wiping away the red stains. He then dropped the cloth onto the half-conscious Boss Prophet’s head. Beside him, the leashed man flinched.

With eyes calm as usual, Edris looked at the quivering man, then at the row of people at the edge of the room, who seemed disoriented after witnessing the event’s unfolding.

Edris took off the leash from the man’s neck, looping it onto Boss Prophet’s head.

The young man looked towards the row of people, coldness settling in his voice. “Leave.”

Turning towards Boss Prophet, Edris examined the man’s bulging face, then shook his head. Even Edris, who did not consider himself a good person, saw the man as disgusting.

“Normally, I would leave trash to just rot on its own. But children. Ah, why does it have to be children? Bringing children into this, it just doesn’t sit right with me, you see?”

Edris was someone who planned ahead, but he was also flexible; his flexibility right was telling him to do something about the garbage in front of him.

In the silent room, Edris stood still for a second or two before the corners of his mouth returned to their usual upturned gentleness. His eyes flickered under the dim purple lights.

“Ah, this won’t do. I suppose this is no longer an equal transaction on my part.” With a smile, Edris cracked open the man’s mouth with his gloved hand and took out the gold yone from earlier with the other. “My apologies, here’s your payment.”

Edris dropped the coin down his throat and forced it shut. Boss Prophet’s pupils constricted as the piece of solid squished through his trachea.

His mind blanked, and when he came to be, he found himself shrivelled by the couch, gasping for air.

“You, you! Do you know who you’re messing with? You pay for this.” Boss Prophet squeezed out through a series of gags and coughs, his eyes bloodshot.

Ignoring his words, the young man only continued to tighten the leash around his neck. When he was at the second last buckle, Boss Prophet was choking for air.

However, the second last buckle was where Edris stopped. Letting the leash dangle from Boss Prophet’s neck, he stepped back and wiped the dirt off his hands.

“You’re not going to kill him?” Faren asked from behind, and Edris glanced at him.

“What I did just now was purely on personal incentives, but now it’s time to get back to work. I’m here to investigate for His Highness, after all.” He shrugged, eyes creasing into a smile. “Have you forgotten, Lord Faren? I am a seeker of peace.

“Killing is not very peaceful now, is it?”

Faren, who had been recording in his notebook this whole time, stared at him with a complicated expression. He parted his mouth to speak, but no sound ended up coming out. Faren inhaled slowly and put the notebook back into his bag.

“You’re right, Prophet Edris.” Faren cast his gaze towards Boss Prophet. “Then I will do it.”

"Lord Faren?"

"It's my responsibility. For the sake of the kingdom. It's because people like him exist that the kingdom has places like this."

Edris gazed at him with his pale eyes. After a few seconds, he stepped back with a chuckle.

Boss Prophet’s expression transformed to befuddlement as the two men exchanged places, but it ashened once more as the leash around his neck tightened.

“What, what you do want?! I can give you money, as much as you want!” By the time Faren reached the last buckle, the man was pleading on his knees. “I don’t even know you! Who are you? Why are you guys doing this to me?”

The room fell into a state of stillness. Boss Prophet felt the movement on his neck enter a pause, and he raised his head instinctively.

The pause only lasted a second, though. The scholarly-looking man didn’t even bother looking at him as he resumed his actions, and Boss Prophet found himself struck by the pair of cold, grey eyes belonging to the person standing behind him.

Under the room’s purple light, they had an unsettling glint that sent shivers down his spine.

“Just who…”

“Who am I?”

Edris’s voice resounded through the room.

“I have quite a few identities. On simple terms, I’m a traveller. I’d also like to consider myself a seeker of peace.” He leaned forward, eyes creasing like the moon. “But I guess you’ll like this one more—”

His tone was light as a feather, but his next three words were enough to push the man into a state of horror.

“—The Fallen Prophet.”