Chapter 268
Margrave’s Bastard Son was The Emperor
Ian regretted it the moment he and Beric entered the alley entrance. All because of Beric, who was humming a tune as he walked ahead.
Should he have brought Xiaoshi instead? Beric kept peering around with curious eyes and gratefully accepted some dried leaves someone handed him.
âIan, this place is killer. Kekeke.â
âBeric. Throw that away.â
âHuh? But I got it for free?â
âBefore I throw you away too.â
As Ian muttered while pulling the hood of his robe over his head, Beric flicked his fingers without hesitation and tossed the leaves away. Immediately, those who had been watching them picked up the discarded leaves and stuffed them into their nostrils.
Inhaling the drug with deep breaths. It was a ploy to get people addicted by giving out small free samples, making it impossible for them to escape.
Ian clicked his tongue inwardly as he looked around.
âItâs bigger than I thought.â
He had assumed an illegal gambling den meant just one space. But this was a mess, as if the entire alley had turned into a slum.
It seemed that when games werenât running, it was an abandoned place, but on days like this, signs were hung up everywhere. Unlike regular shops, only flags with symbols were stuck in, which was evidence of this.
âBut if you consider each one individually, the scale is small. It seems thereâs a central gambling den and a power backing this street.â
As the tavern owner had said, there was plenty to see; this place was a festival of sorts. People half-sprawled from drug use were shouting loudly, and the ground was sticky with spilled alcohol. Like children jumping in puddles, madmen were rolling around and laughing hysterically on top of it.
âJin and I simultaneously recognized Timothy. He even naturalized to Bariel. Even if there were some reasons, it would be difficult without a positive perception of Bariel. He might have been frequenting Bariel personally. But why on earth this place?â
Ian kept walking around the street, covering his nose and mouth with his sleeve. Timothy was huge, with quite a striking appearance. If he passed by again, Ian would recognize him instantly.
âExcuse me!â
âUghâ¦â
Splash!
Beric kept lifting the newspapers of soundly sleeping people to check their faces, drawing even more attention to their already conspicuous presence.
Ian grabbed him by the nape and dragged him deeper into the alley. The atmosphere inside was quite different. The population density was higher, and it was more refined. It wasnât so much walking as being pushed along by the crowd.
As the two moved while maintaining a certain distance, Ian spotted a head suddenly popping out from among the people.
âItâs Timothy.â
It really is Timothy! He was chewing on a cigarette while constantly looking around. He looked exactly like the portraits Naum and Romandro had shown. Seeing him in person made his impression seem even more fierce, but anyway.
Just as Ian was looking for him, Timothy also seemed to be searching for someone. Ian signaled to Beric with a hand gesture.
âBeric. Over there. Follow him.â
âMove aside, move aside. Iâll kill you if you shoulder-check me!â
âHey, where are you going in such a hurry?â
âHeheh. Why donât you play a round of cards with us instead?â
âI said move, you bastards!â
âKyaaah! Where are you pushing!â
Beric swam through the crowd, pushing his way towards Timothy. Ian saw him open a green door and go down to a basement.
âBeric, that way!â
âYessir. Going now.â
âDonât approach, just keep an eye on him.â
Beric took the lead, and Ian followed his path. Before going down the stairs, he asked a man sitting on a chair next to the building, chewing on jerky:
âHey, are there any other entrances to this building?â
âWhy? Planning to make a run for it?â
âIt would be in your best interest to just answer the question.â
ââ¦Thereâs only one. The back door is blocked by a pile of goods.â
Tap tap tap!
As soon as Ian heard his answer, he went down the stairs. A single old, dim light bulb illuminated the corridor. The smell of mold was overwhelming at first, but Ian soon realized there was also something fishy mixed in. It was quite unpleasant.
âAh.â
The source of the unpleasantness wasnât far away. Ian bit his lip as soon as he reached the corridor.
The arena was filled with people engrossed in card games, and people were trapped in iron cages hanging from the ceiling. Some had their feet dangling between the bars, while others lay weakly inside.
âItâs illegal slave trading.â
The slave markets held in Bariel were strictly under the countryâs control, having to adhere to permitted periods and designated areas. However, the taxes on transactions were so high that both buyers and sellers tended to avoid them.
But they couldnât allow a permanent market either, as there were concerns about exacerbating the already rampant human trafficking and illegal enslavement.
Along with public safety instability, there were many other factors to consider. This was one of the problems in Bariel that Ian acknowledged.
âYou crazy bastard! Donât you watch where youâre going?â
âI said I was sorry, you fuck.â
âIs sorry enough? You knocked over my card hand because of you!â
âIâve never seen you before, where are you from?â
âWould you know if I told you? This is really pissing me off. Your breath stinks.â
Whack!
By the time Ian recognized Bericâs voice and turned his head, it was already too late. A man was swinging a big punch at Beric. Beric was just backing away, dodging his attacks.
Thwack!
Crash! Rattle!
âWoah. Sorry, sorry.â
âWhat the hell? Go fight over there! Weâre in the middle of a game.â
âWhereâs the staff? Call the staff out!â
âThe fucking atmosphere here is a total mess!â
âHey, red head! Come over here and knock this over too!â
âAre you kidding? Iâm winning, what nonsense are you spouting!â
Boom! Bang!
How were all the surrounding tables getting overturned when he was just dodging without attacking? As the commotion grew uncontrollable, Ian rubbed his forehead. You idiot, you keep bumping into things because youâre backing away, Beric.
âWhereâs Timothy?â
Ian quickly scanned the arena, leaving Beric for now. Timothy had briefly observed the commotion but didnât seem very interested, just staring at the ceiling.
It was certain. He was looking for someone.
âBut a slave?â
Why would Timothy be looking for a slave in a foreign country, not even his homeland? He whispered something to an employee while covering his mouth, then pulled up a chair and lit a new cigarette. By then, he seemed to be taking an interest in Bericâs commotion.
Then their gazes met squarely in mid-air. It was the first moment Ian truly felt he was in the same time and space as Naumâs ancestor.
âAh.â
He hadnât noticed before, but he looks exactly like Naumâs nose and lips.
When Ian didnât avert his gaze, Timothy raised his thick eyebrows slightly. As if to ask what he was looking at. Timothy scratched his cut-off ear while exhaling thick smoke.
âDoes he know me? I donât look like someone who should be in a place like this. He doesnât seem to be a foreign noblemanâ¦â
Timothy knew that the new Minister of Magic in Bariel was young, blonde, and had green eyes, but he couldnât immediately make the connection. Not only was the situation and place unusual, but he had never seen a portrait of Ian.
In fact, Ian had only recently taken office as Minister, and right after that, the civil war and all sorts of turmoil had swept through the imperial palace. Forget foreign media, even the citizens of Bariel were unfamiliar with Ianâs existence.
Rattle! Rattle!
Ian turned his head at the low scraping sound of iron bars. The venueâs staff had surrounded Beric. They were cornering him with skewers stained with dried blood.
âOver there, over there!â
âAah, these little punks arenât even worth a punch.â
âThat bastard just keeps dodging without fighting back. Stab him freely! He must have taken some bad drugs and come here to cause trouble!â
âThis is driving me crazy, really!â
Beric sent a distress signal to Ian. Canât we just kill all these guys? If we kill them all, there wonât be any witnesses, right? So it shouldnât be a problem?
But Ian firmly shook his head. Besides the staff, there were over a hundred ordinary people watching them. Killing everyone? Thatâs nonsense.
As Beric was being driven into an empty space, his back hit the wall, and someone shouted.
âGot him! Bring it down!â
Screech! Crash!
An iron chain caught Bericâs ankle like a noose, and his body was suddenly hoisted up to the ceiling. They skillfully pushed him into the cage with poles, as if hunting an animal. It was clear this wasnât their first time doing this. Only Bericâs black sword was left lying on the floor.
âWoah! Whatâs this? Let me down! Release me, you bastards!â
âShut up. As of today, your life is over. This will be your last day as a human. If youâve taken drugs, you should just sleep it off quietly.â
âHe looks lively, must be quite strong.â
âIndeed. Selling him should fetch a good price for some health supplements.â
âAlright, alright, now that this is settled, everyone continue with your gambling. Donât mind this, okay? Letâs go for that one big win in life.â
âClean this up here. Iâm going to have a smoke.â
â¦Should he pretend to know him? Ian pondered deeply with his arms crossed. Beric wasnât going to die just because he was caught, and heâd probably find his way home on his own anyway.
As if sensing Ianâs deliberation, Beric startled and shook the iron bars with his hands.
âIaaaan!!â
âOh dear.â
âYou were going to pretend you didnât know me! Hey! Ouch!â
The staff who were cleaning up the tables turned their attention to Ian. As if they didnât know he had a companion. They looked Ian up and down with menacing expressions.
âAre you with him? This one looks normal at least. Guess he didnât do drugs. If you donât want to see an ugly sight, cut your losses and get out.â
âOr should we claim damages? If you donât have money, youâll end up like him. Though you look pretty, it might be more profitable for us that way.â
Ian nodded silently. He could feel Timothy watching him, so it seemed better to respond somewhat.
âMy friend has caused offense. If you want compensation, Iâll pay it.â
âCompensation? How much do you have?â
âHow much do you want?â
â100 gold coins.â
âPuhahaha!â
They blurted out an amount equivalent to ten yearsâ wages for a laborer. It meant they had no intention of making a deal.
Right now, Ian had two gold coins and five silver coins. If he gave them this here, those guys would just take the money and not back off.
âHey, you idiots! Youâre all dead now. Ian is fucking pissed! Do you know how scary he is? Ian, youâll save me, right? Huh?â
ââ¦â
Beric shouted confidently, but Ian just smiled slightly instead of answering. If Timothy stayed here, he would stay to match him, but if he left, he would follow him.
Beric went berserk, banging his head against the iron bars. Honestly, someone like Ian could clean up this place as easily as eating cold porridge, couldnât he?
Bang! Bang bang!
âNooooo! Shit, if you leave me behind, Iâll really-! Hey!â
At that moment, Timothy received some guidance from an employee. It was the same employee he had been talking to earlier while covering his mouth. Timothy frowned and took out some gold coins from his inner pocket, then sat back down. It didnât look like he would be leaving anytime soon.
ââ¦Alright, Beric. Be quiet.â
Ian watched this and likewise took out a gold coin. Then he lightly flicked it to a nearby employee and instructed:
Ting!
âOh ho, looks like youâve got some money? A gold coin comes out just like that?â
âThatâs not enough, though! Hahaha!â
ââ¦How tedious.â
âW-What?â
âStop chattering and exchange this for chips. Iâll try to make as much as you want.â
Ian gestured as he sat down in an empty seat at a nearby table. The people enjoying the game glanced at Ian, but that was all. Once seated here, nobles and vagrants alike were dealt cards equally.
Ian tapped the table.
âI said Iâm going to be a customer now.â
Having declared himself a âcustomerâ in front of everyone, they couldnât openly stop him. Instead, they were ready to bare their fangs the moment Ian stepped outside. They had discovered he had money without companions, after all. How could they let him go just like that?
***
âThe winning side is our side, Ian is on my side. Hang in there, hang in! Everyone else has shitty hands, please give Ian a good one!â
This was the story behind Beric singing while hanging from the ceiling.
A pile of chips five times larger than at the start. Ian fiddled with them while repeatedly glancing towards where Timothy was. He kept watching the ceiling while sipping his drink.
Presumably, it seemed he was looking for a specific slave. He had been repeating the pattern of talking with the staff and waiting several times.
âCome on, deal again! Until this guy runs out of steam!â
âIs this really your first time? Why are you so good?â
ââ¦Iâve done it before. I said this place was my first time.â
Ian muttered as he tossed a couple of chips to the dealer as a tip. How long would he have to keep this up? Jin would be waiting in the park. Of course, if he was late, Romandro would take care of it, but still.
The staff who had locked up Beric kept glaring at Ian. They gave subtle smiles every time Ian won money. They firmly believed that Ianâs money would soon be theirs.
Another round of cards was dealt. Just as Ian was about to continue the game he found uninteresting:
Swish.
Timothy sat down in the seat next to him. Despite his enormous size, he made almost no sound. Ian surveyed him with an impassive gaze. Indeed, the more he looked, the more he resembled Naum.
âYou said your name was Ian?â
âThatâs right.â
Itâs over. Ian covered his cards, indicating he was folding. Fake ID or not, with Beric shouting the name Ian at the top of his lungs, what could he do? The only consoling factors were that Ian was a common name and that people drunk and high on drugs couldnât think straight.
âIâm curious if youâre the Ian I know.â
Timothy chewed on his short cigarette and half-turned his body. It was a gesture asking Ian to take off his robe and show his hair. Ian declined but gave an acquiescing smile.
âI was also wondering if youâre the Timothy I know. We should move to a different place.â