The Return of the Limited-Time Sword Master

Chapter 64: The City of Desire and Despair (3)

At dawn, Martin and Sien left the residence and headed toward the city center. Instead of joining them, Fritz Khan made his way to City Hall.

His task was to check on the White Dragon Knights stationed there and spread attention from the city’s observers as much as possible.

“Where are you planning to be this morning?” Sien asked.

“Southwest district.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in Gourmet Street, Martin.”

“Who doesn’t love good food? Since we’re here, we might as well explore it properly.”

Free City Akela had long been a key trade hub connecting the Empire’s west and north, with the added advantage of being located near a river.

Over time, cuisine from various regions had been introduced to the city, and the best chefs had settled in the southwest district, eventually giving rise to the famous Gourmet Street.

‘But my real goal is elsewhere.’

The second reason Martin came to Akela City was to rescue the dwarves and elves from the slave market.

While freeing them wouldn’t guarantee immediate goodwill, it would at least serve as a starting point for building trust.

To achieve this, Martin needed to access the illegal market, where the slave trade took place. However, it wasn’t a place just anyone could enter.

‘Only those recommended by a manager can gain access.’

More precisely, one had to obtain a pass from a market manager. And that’s why Martin was headed to Gourmet Street.

He didn’t have any close acquaintances in the city, but he did have a connection of sorts—albeit a negative one.

“Smells good,” Sien commented.

“Doesn’t it?”

As they approached Gourmet Street, the air became filled with the aroma of delicious food. Having skipped breakfast, the hunger pangs grew even stronger.

“Choosing what to eat might be the hardest part,” Sien said with a grin.

“No need to worry, Sien. I already scouted the place in advance.”

“Thorough as always. I like it.”

Sien smiled brightly at Martin’s reply, and he felt a pang of guilt.

The restaurant they were headed to was indeed famous, but the chances of enjoying a proper meal there were slim.

‘I’ll have to make sure they treat us as proper guests.’

As he watched Sien’s genuine excitement, Martin steeled his resolve.

With that, the two entered Gourmet Street.

True to its name, the street was lined with countless eateries, bustling with people eager to enjoy a good meal, even in the early hours.

Martin led Sien deeper into the street until they stopped in front of a three-story building.

The restaurant’s name was Crossroads of Fate, and every floor was packed with people.

‘What a fittingly twisted name.’

Considering the true nature of the establishment, it was hard to imagine a more inappropriate name. But Martin had no choice—he needed to visit this place to accomplish his goal.

With his resolve firm, Martin stepped inside, with Sien following closely behind.

Almost immediately, a server approached them. At the same time, Martin’s eyes narrowed.

The server’s movements were far too agile for someone in such a role.

“Welcome to Crossroads of Fate! Are there two of you today?” the server asked with a bright smile.

“Yes.”

“There should be a table available on the third floor. I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience.”

“The third floor would be fine, but wouldn’t it be better if we dined with the VIPs in the basement instead? I’m sure you know who I am, and someone like me should be worthy of an invitation to the ‘Room of Shadows,’ don’t you think?”

Kooo!

The moment Martin finished speaking, an intense wave of killing intent focused on him.

Sien instinctively reached for her sword, but Martin raised his left hand, signaling her to stop.

“…What kind of place is this?” Sien asked, her face tense as she scanned their surroundings.

The staff around them, every single one of them, were glaring at Martin and Sien, exuding dangerous intent.

And yet, the diners nearby remained blissfully unaware, continuing to enjoy their meals.

It was clear that these employees were skilled enough to perfectly conceal their killing intent from the average person.

“Assassin’s Guild,” Martin said calmly.

“What?!”

Sien was genuinely shocked.

Ignoring her reaction, Martin turned back to the server in front of him and continued speaking.

“Let’s cut the theatrics, shall we? Why don’t you just lead me to your master? Surely you know that even if all of you attack, you won’t stand a chance against me. Your master already fled once rather than face me.”

Upon hearing Martin’s words, the killing intent from the staff—who were, in fact, assassins of the Assassin’s Guild—intensified.

Then, footsteps echoed.

A young man, appearing to be in his late twenties, descended the stairs from the second floor.

“The master has requested your presence.”

“That’s more like it.”

As soon as the man spoke, the oppressive killing intent vanished.

The staff stepped aside, clearing a path for Martin and Sien. However, the cold, hostile stares directed at them remained.

‘How is he so unfazed?’ Sien thought incredulously as she looked at Martin.

How could he smile so casually in such a dangerous situation? It was beyond her understanding.

Despite her disbelief, she followed Martin up the stairs after the young man.

“…Is this really the Assassin’s Guild? You’re not joking, right?”

“Come on, Sien. I wouldn’t mess with you about something like this.”

“You’ve already deceived me.”

“It really is a famous restaurant, though. You’ll see once we eat here.”

“You’re seriously planning on eating here? What, are you hoping to get poisoned?”

“The master isn’t that petty.”

While they conversed in hushed tones, the young man continued to lead them silently.

After ascending to the second floor, he headed toward a storage area at the back of the building.

There, he placed his hand on the farthest wall.

Rumble.

The wall split in two, revealing a staircase leading down.

“From here, the two of you will have to descend on your own. The master is waiting for you.”

“Thanks for the guide. Here’s a tip.”

Martin tossed the young man a silver coin, which he caught with a blank expression.

Click!

As soon as Martin stepped onto the staircase, the mana-powered lamps embedded in the walls lit up, illuminating the way.

While Sien was visibly on guard, Martin descended casually.

The underground chamber was filled with extravagant decorations, but it contained only one room. Inside, a single figure awaited them.

“Nice to see you again, don’t you think?” the man said, his voice tinged with amusement.

“I figured we’d cross paths again at some point, but I didn’t expect you to reach out first,” Martin replied calmly.

The man wore a golden mask that covered most of his face—the Dark King. A bitter smile crossed his lips.

—

Martin had been aware of his every move ever since he arrived in Free City Akela and received the mayor’s invitation.

It didn’t take long for the Dark King to gather this information. He also sent watchers to monitor Martin’s actions.

‘Not just me either. Everyone in the underworld has their eyes on him.’

The position of the young lord of the Adalbert family was enough to shake Akela City. However, that wasn’t the whole story.

Martin’s recent actions had been nothing short of revolutionary. Given that Akela City thrived on illegality, it was only natural for the underworld’s major figures and corrupt powers to focus their attention on Martin.

“You’ve certainly proven to have excellent intelligence-gathering skills, young lord,” the Dark King remarked. “Given that you’ve figured out the true nature of this humble establishment.”

“If you’re going to give me a compliment, at least put some sincerity into it,” Martin replied, chuckling. “It’s no secret. Anyone with power knows what this place really is. It’s not like I had to dig for information.”

“Haha, fair enough. So, what brings you here? Eager to settle our score from last time?”

“For someone who fled after I crushed you, you sure are acting cocky. No, I’m here for a favor,” Martin said with a smirk.

“You’re here to request my services? I don’t know who you’ve marked, but they must be unlucky.”

“If it were anyone else, you might have a point. But you’re hardly in a position to say that. And no, it’s not an assassination request. I prefer to kill my enemies with my own hands.”

“Then what is it?” the Dark King asked, curiosity piqued.

“I need to access the black market. It’s not exactly a place anyone can just walk into. I’m here to get a pass. Your recommendation should get me in, right?”

The Dark King’s presence suddenly faded.

Though he still sat in front of Martin, had he not been, one might have assumed he’d vanished.

“I don’t understand, young lord. What reason do you have to visit the black market? Sure, it has a reputation for rare and valuable items, but even the goods there can’t compare to what comes out of Varehein City. You, of all people, would know that.”

“There’s one thing, though. Something no dungeon city, including Varehein, deals in. Here, they call it a ‘job placement agency,’ right?”

“…The slave market. You’re interested in a dangerous place.”

“You’re one to talk. Aren’t you secretly trying to manufacture a deadly drug behind the Herb King’s back? I believe it’s called Doom, right?”

The Dark King momentarily lost his composure, struck speechless by Martin’s words. But Martin’s expression remained completely at ease as he continued.

“The only reason we’re having this peaceful conversation is because you haven’t fully distributed Doom yet. Otherwise, one of us would be dead by now—and it would most likely be you.”

“You sure don’t lack confidence, young lord,” the Dark King said with a weary shake of his head.

“I did beat you, didn’t I?”

The Dark King sighed and shook his head.

“Enough of this. If you’re going to keep going on about Doom, I’ll be taking my leave.”

“No need to discuss it further for now. Just hand over the recommendation.”

“If you cause trouble, the blame will fall on me as your sponsor. Why should I take that risk?”

“You owe me,” Martin replied simply.

“Owe you?”

The Dark King was genuinely taken aback.

Yes, he had lost to Martin before and retreated. But that was only because he had fought Martin head-on, an area where assassins typically avoid. If he focused solely on stealth and ambush tactics, the outcome would likely be different—or so he believed.

“In the process of dealing with the chaos in Varehein City, your name was barely mentioned. I also buried any talk related to Doom.”

“Are you saying I owe you a favor for that, young lord?”

“If I had requested reinforcements from the Adalbert family, this place would have been destroyed. I had the ability, but I didn’t go through with it. So yes, I’d say you owe me.”

“The Adalbert family is renowned for swordsmanship. Since when did you also become so skilled with words?” the Dark King asked, exasperated.

“A well-educated noble must also be eloquent,” Martin said with a shrug, clearly unfazed.

Without missing a beat, Martin pressed further.

“So, once again, I’ll ask for the pass.”

“Your attitude is outrageous for someone making a request… but nothing in this world is free. What will you give me in return?”

“I’ll pretend your previous attack on me never happened. Think about it: avoiding becoming an enemy of the Adalbert family with just a few words. That’s quite a good deal, don’t you think?”

Martin’s confidence was palpable, while the Dark King was visibly troubled.

The black market was strictly for the chosen few. And yet, Martin was trying to secure access with mere words.

‘But I can’t dismiss him outright.’

While the Adalbert family had lost some of its former strength, it was still formidable. Going up against them—even if victorious—would not be without significant consequences.

“If that’s not enough, I’ll throw in some information. Consider it a generous bonus.”

“I’ll hear it first before I decide.”

“You should completely withdraw from the slave market. It won’t be around much longer.”

“While I acknowledge your strength, I advise you not to interfere in that business. Even for you, that could mean the loss of your life,” the Dark King warned, his gaze sharp.

He had often used the slave market to recruit assassins with potential, sourcing them from orphanages all over the continent. Abandoning such a crucial supply chain wasn’t something he could easily agree to.

“You’re really difficult to deal with. Fine, I’ll give you one final piece of information. The Forest Elves and the Earth Spirits have their sights set on this place. That should be enough, right?”

“…You’ve managed to involve them?”

“No comment.”

Martin’s expression was nothing but a playful grin.

“You never cease to surprise me,” the Dark King muttered. He glared at Martin for a moment, but then sighed in defeat.

Finally, he reached into his coat and produced a platinum coin.

This wasn’t just any coin; it was a special token not commonly used on the continent.

“You’ve made a wise choice.”

“I hope you keep your word,” the Dark King said, handing the coin to Martin.

“Of course. I’m a man of my word.”

Martin pocketed the coin, the pass granting him access to the northern black market.

Now, all that remained was to make his move.

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