Chapter 212: Chapter 207: Plans to Hire a Helper, a Minor Incident

Jon pushed through the boisterous crowd, his heavy leather boots creaking on the tavern’s rough wooden floor.

Behind the bar, a middle-aged bartender was wiping a glass, his movements unhurried. In truth, his eyes had been fixed on Jon for some time.

After all, a man of his stature wearing such a heavy wolf-pelt cloak was not a common sight.

As Jon drew near, the bartender immediately greeted him like an old friend.

"You’re a new face, sir. First time at Marie’s Colorful Lantern House?"

"How about something to warm you up? Our ale here is the best in Trulane!"

Jon said nothing, simply pulling a silver coin from an inner pocket of his cloak and flicking it with his thumb.

The coin traced a short arc through the air before landing precisely on the oak bar with a soft DING.

"Ginger beer. Cold."

"And while you’re at it, what’s the latest gossip in the city? And I don’t mean that mess over in Heta County."

This familiar manner made the bartender’s smile freeze for a moment, and the respect on his face grew a little more genuine.

"Right away, sir. One moment."

He snatched up the silver coin and turned to fish a dark bottle out of an ice bucket. He uncorked it, and an amber liquid, fizzing with fine bubbles, gurgled into the glass. A spicy, slightly sweet aroma instantly filled the air.

He slid the glass smoothly in front of Jon and leaned forward slightly so Jon could hear him better.

"You’ve asked at just the right time, sir. The city hasn’t been very peaceful lately."

He paused, pondering for a moment.

"The first major event is the security order issued by Count Trulane himself. The entire city’s alert level has been raised, patrols have been doubled, and the nightly curfew now starts an hour earlier."

"If you came through the city gate, you’d know. The checks are absurdly strict. It’s to keep the trouble from Heta County next door from spilling over, to stop spies or deserters from sneaking into the city."

"In addition, the punishment for troublemakers has gotten much stricter. For minor things that would usually just get you a fine or a beating, you’ll now most likely be thrown in jail for a few days."

He picked up a rag and made a show of wiping down the bar, but he didn’t stop talking.

"The second thing is causing a huge stir, and it’s happening right under the guild’s nose."

"The two most famous mercenary groups in the city, the Anvil and Gray Fang, have had a complete falling out over a high-level commission. It’s said to be an escort mission, taking a batch of alchemy materials north to the Icefield Outpost. The reward is ridiculously high."

"The day before yesterday, the two groups came to blows in the backyard of the Boar and Horn tavern. An arbiter from the Mercenaries’ Guild tried to mediate twice but couldn’t talk them down."

As he spoke, he jutted his chin towards one side of the main hall.

"Look, the men from both sides are still glaring at each other across their tables right now. One wrong word and they’ll be at each other’s throats again."

Jon followed his gaze and saw two groups of men, dressed as mercenaries, in a tense standoff, with a clear divide between them.

The bartender sighed and topped off Jon’s glass.

"The last piece of news affects almost everyone. Several of the city’s major merchant guilds, led by Jin Sui and Jifeng, started hiking up prices as soon as the trouble in Heta County began."

"Grain, cloth, medicine... anything they can hoard gets a new price every day. A lot of the smaller merchants are suffering, and even supplies for Adventurers are getting tight. The cost of leaving the city for a quest is skyrocketing."

"They smell blood in the water from Heta County and are looking to profit from the war. And the lords above don’t lift a finger..."

When he was done, he draped the rag back over his shoulder and straightened up.

Jon drained the rest of the ginger beer in one go, letting the amber liquid’s spicy kick spread through his mouth.

He set down the empty glass and gave the bartender a slight nod to show he’d heard enough. Then he stood, his gaze shifting to the quest board on the other side of the tavern as he began to think.

’Trulane County seems stable on the surface, but it’s clearly feeling the effects from Heta County. Things are starting to get unsettled.’

’What’s more, the ’King Selection Ceremony’ has already begun. It’s only a matter of time before a Prince or Princess comes here on an inspection tour. That’ll just bring a whole new set of problems...’

This thought solidified an idea that had already been forming in his mind.

’I knew it. I need to recruit some teammates and clear the Demon Forest Ruins as soon as possible.’

His mind made up, he strode forward, pushing through the crowd toward the quest board.

He hadn’t brought the Mechanical Body from the Giant God Workshop on this clandestine trip, and Big Mimi had been left at the manor to work on her breakthrough. It wasn’t that he couldn’t clear the Demon Forest Ruins by himself, but it would be terribly inefficient.

He would need extra hands to carry out all the Demon materials, ores, and other valuables from the ruins.

Besides, groups of Demons often roamed the outskirts of the ruins. A few reliable Adventurers could help draw fire and allow him to keep a low profile. Disguised as a consultant for the Moran family, he couldn’t risk using any of ’Jon’s’ signature abilities.

So, recruiting teammates was a necessity.

As he mulled it over, Jon’s gaze locked onto a few reasonably competent-looking Adventurers near the quest board.

But just as he was about to approach them and gauge their mettle, a furious roar erupted from the other side of the tavern.

"You scum from the Anvil! Say that again, I dare you!"

A burly, fleshy-faced man with a bandaged arm kicked over the wooden table in front of him with a CRASH, baring his teeth at the Anvil mercenary opposite him.

"If you hadn’t meddled, we would’ve completed that commission ages ago! And now you have the nerve to say we stole your job?"

In response, a mercenary as lean as iron with a scar by his eye fearlessly drew the dagger at his waist and sneered.

"What’s wrong? Hit a nerve? You’re the ones who hijacked that shipment of Cold Iron Ingots, so stop playing innocent!"

Before he’d even finished speaking, the three companions behind him rose in unison, their hands on their weapons and murderous intent in their eyes.

The Minstrel’s music on his Bart’s Harp came to a sudden halt. The atmosphere in the tavern froze for an instant, then erupted.

The waitresses scrambled behind the bar with practiced agility, peeking their heads out to watch. The drinking contest between a Dwarf and a Lion-man paused as they both craned their necks, eager for the show.

The Adventurers who frequented the tavern were all too familiar with this sort of scene. Far from being alarmed, they instinctively scattered, quickly clearing an open space. Tables and chairs were shoved roughly against the walls as the jeers and catcalls rose in waves.

"Fight! Don’t just flap your gums!"

"Get ’em, Anvil! Tear up those Gray Fang dogs!"

"Place your bets, place your bets! I bet Halls can take down that big guy in three moves!"

In the center of the cleared space, the burly man from Gray Fang brandished a wooden bench, while the scar-faced man from the Anvil crouched low, his dagger gleaming with a cold light.

The two were poised to strike, ready to settle things once and for all!

Jon frowned slightly as he watched the chaotic scene.

’Of all the times to start a fight, they had to do it right when I’m trying to recruit?’

’These louts. Do they have any idea how precious my time is?’

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