Beast Slayer Online: Initialization
Copyright© 2026 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 93: Steel Beneath Black Rain
“D-don’t kill me...! This is close to the Trade Quarter! Kill us here and you’ll have trouble for sure!”
The thug dangling in Lannor’s grip trembled while desperately forcing his undersized brain to work.
Lannor’s style, no questions asked, just grab a man and beat him around like a rag doll, had thoroughly convinced the gang member that he could be strangled dead at any moment.
Reason told him this was too close to the Trade Quarter. If someone got murdered here, Vizima’s guards and watchmen would never let it slide.
But fear had never answered to reason.
Especially not with the Axii Sign deepening it.
“Do the dockworkers and unloading crews near the city gates have an organization? Official or otherwise.”
“The king’s ... the king’s accountants only care about taxes. Don’t care about anything else. The laborers ... the dock laborers belong to the Snake Fang Gang. Every copper they earn, we take a fifth.”
Snake Fang Gang?
Gods, what a vulgar name.
The sheer cheapness of it made Lannor click his tongue in irritation.
“Who handles your books? Where does he usually show up?”
“Jung ... I only know he pays me. As for who keeps the gang’s accounts ... I don’t know.”
Beneath the hood, Lannor’s elegant brows drew together slightly.
Made sense.
A gang’s accounts were among its deepest secrets. The people managing them would never be known by gutter-level lackeys wandering the streets.
“Then tell me about Jung. Where can I find him?”
“When he’s got money, he goes to the House of Night. Best brothel in Vizima. But you won’t find him there right now.”
“Why not?”
“The accounts ... five days ago, every accountant in the gangs got called away. Big gangs, small gangs, didn’t matter. They’re doing some huge reconciliation.”
This time Lannor’s brow did not merely tighten.
It knotted hard.
Five days ago.
If there was no filth hidden behind timing like that, he might as well start praying to Melitele.
Which meant the slavers had even bought off the lowest freight handlers and labor gangs so thoroughly that not a single crack remained.
... What in the blazing hells.
Could even a kingdom’s intelligence apparatus reach this level?
The deeper the investigation went, the more terrifying the scale of the enemy became.
That was also why sorcerers, despite wielding supernatural power, still bargained politely with kings and often placed themselves beneath them.
Magic had limits.
Even a mage as mighty as Alzur could summon giant centipedes capable of tearing half a city apart.
But against true power, power woven from gold, influence, and the endless machinery of human desire, magic began to look strangely insignificant.
To manipulate hearts surpassed manipulating power.
That was one of the world’s great truths.
But Lannor was not born of this world. He had seen what truly monstrous systems of power could become.
So even now, the young witcher refused to lose heart.
“Then give me a laborer’s name. One who works constantly. Highest workload, most frequent shifts.”
If the labor gangs themselves had already been bought clean, then he would drag his search even lower.
Straight to the men moving the cargo.
“Berengar ... that bastard’s like you, hates looking up at people. Lives in the Temple District...”
A satisfied curve tugged at the witcher’s lips beneath the hood.
Moments later, the broad-shouldered man in the cloak stepped out of the alley. As he emerged from shadow into sunlight, he absentmindedly brushed at his clothes despite there being no dirt on them.
Behind him, the two dazed gangsters lay slumped together beside a puddle of vomit.
Once they came to, they would only remember a drunken argument escalating into a brawl in the alley.
Street thugs lacked the willpower of hardened warriors who traded blows to the death.
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