Chapter - 59

As Leo stepped out of the Golden Scales, his Predator's Instincts picked up the muffled, enraged screaming of Gamon echoing from within the hall.

"DRAX! GET HIM! DON'T LET HIM LEAVE!"

Leo smirked, slipping his hands into his pockets as he slipped into the crowd. He didn't run away. Running would unnecessarily attract attention.

Thanks to his high [Stealth - 41] and [Agility - 38] overall stats, he blended into the crowd and slipped away. And in a few breaths, the gaudy, gold-plated headquarters of Golden Scales was lost behind.

"Let them scream," Leo muttered to himself. "Panic looks good on them."

He walked for a few blocks, putting distance between himself and the Golden Scales & Iron Caravan guards, before slowing to a casual stroll.

'Aiva,' he thought, 'Did I give them the slip?'

[Pursuit Probability: 0%. The Golden Scales and Iron Caravan guards are currently disorganized. You have successfully broken visual contact.]

"Good. The bridge with them is thoroughly burned," Leo chuckled, "And I think I pissed on the ashes for good."

[There is nothing as permanent enemies, master.]

"True!," Leo nodded, "But for the time being, I would rather avoid Gamon. If I make him desperate enough. He can turn out to be a good dog."

"Or," Leo had a mischievous glint in his eyes, "I can sell the stuff next at Iron Caravan. This might crack the love they have it going between them."

"Then I will have 2 less potential enemies to worry about."

It would have made logical sense to go to the Iron Caravan next. They were the military suppliers, rich and powerful. But Drax was there, and Leo had just insulted him to his face. Walking into their headquarters now would just be walking into an unnecessary brawl.

"And I don't like that muscle brain," Leo confessed, "So…"

"Iron Caravan is out," Leo decided, "Which leaves us with the underdog."

He recalled the red-haired woman. The way she had stood her ground against two Guild Masters. The sheer, overwhelming pressure of her aura. And, perhaps most importantly, the glimpse of the figure hiding beneath those baggy grey robes.

"Aiva, show me the route to the Silver Route."

[Location Marked, Master! Third Street, Lower Merchant District.]

A glowing blue line appeared in his vision, guiding him away from the high-end luxury district and down towards the river.

"Time to go see the Red Queen," Leo grinned, turning a corner, "I need to know what she's hiding under those robes. My expert analysis says massive E cups, D cups at least. But I need visual confirmation."

Aiva's voice was dry in his mind.

[Master, your priorities remain consistently... singular. We are currently in a hostile political environment, you just brushed the reverse scales of two tigers of this town. Yet your primary objective appears to be mammary inspection.]

"It's called focus, Aiva," Leo corrected her, "I need to thoroughly investigate my business partner. Thoroughly. You won't understand how great minds work."

[...]

He followed the path down into the Lower Merchant District. The atmosphere changed here. The perfume and gold leaf faded, replaced by the smells of spices, unvarnished wood, grain, and honest sweat. The streets were wider, filled with heavy wagons and shouting porters. It felt less like a jewelry box and more like a machine.

He was in no time in front of the Silver Route.

It wasn't a posh, grand building like that of the Golden Scales. It was a massive, reinforced warehouse converted into an office.

Men and women were rushing in and out with manifests, crates were being loaded onto carts, and the air hummed with the energy of commerce.

Leo walked up the steps and pushed open the door.

Inside, the reception area was practical. A long wooden counter was manned by a young man in spectacles, who was furiously scribbling on a parchment. Behind him, clerks were sorting mail and shouting orders to the warehouse floor.

Leo approached the desk. The young man looked up, pushing his glasses up his nose. Unlike the bored haughtiness of Tilly at the Golden Scales, this man looked tired but polite.

"Welcome to the Silver Route," the receptionist said, his voice hoarse from talking all day, "How can I help you, sir? If you are here about the grain shipment from the South. I am sorry, but the shipment has been delayed by a month."

"I am not here for grain," Leo said, leaning an elbow on the counter, "I am here to see Miss Ryana."

The receptionist paused. He looked Leo up and down, taking in the high-quality leather armor and the casual confidence.

"Miss Ryana?" The young man frowned slightly, "I am afraid Miss Ryana is... unavailable. She just returned from a meeting in the Upper District, and she has given strict orders not to be disturbed her."

"I know," Leo said smoothly, "I was at that meeting she had at Golden Scales."

The receptionist's eyes widened. He never mentioned where she was, "You were at the Golden Scales?"

"I was," Leo nodded, "I am an acquaintance actually. And a potential best friend. Tell her it's the man with the apple."

The receptionist hesitated. But how specific he was with his words, made him believe Leo. Actually, no one really knew Miss Ryana. She was here just for the inspection and even the bosses at the Auravale branch showed respect to her. So to pinpoint so much about her, this boy might really know her.

The man looked at the stairs leading up to the second floor, then back at Leo.

"Okay! Let me have someone escort you," the receptionist conceded, "But I can't guarantee you will get a meeting with her."

"Deal," Leo smirked.

The receptionist flagged down a passing maid, a young girl carrying a tray of tea. He whispered something to her, pointing at Leo. The maid nodded, looking nervous, and gestured for Leo to follow her.

They climbed a narrow, sturdy staircase to the second floor. The noise of the warehouse floor faded behind.

The maid stopped in front of a heavy oak door at the end of the hallway. She smoothed her apron, took a deep breath, and turned to Leo.

"Please wait here, sir," she whispered, "I will announce your arrival and see if the Lady will grant an audience."

She knocked once, opened the door just wide enough to slip her small frame inside, and began to close it behind her.

Leo didn't wait.

"Announcements are for people who like waiting," he muttered.

Before the latch could click, Leo caught the door with the toe of his boot. He pushed.

The door swung open, revealing the room beyond.

Leo strode in, boldly, but he had barely taken two steps into the office before the air hissed.

SHING!

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