I had to struggle with many activities I found distasteful during my tenure as a godfather. Unfortunately, some of those incredibly distasteful tasks had managed to follow me to a new world.

"… tell me that was the last visitor," I begged as I looked at Dahmut, who had been attending to me while Mahruss was busy with his own tasks.

"Unfortunately, not even close, boss," he said, not bothering to hide his amusement at my whining.

"Who's next?" I asked with a sigh.

"An important merchant that wants to congratulate us for helping our town to grow."

"An important merchant, or a self-important one?" I asked. Dahmut didn't answer, but the widening of his smile suggested the latter. "Send him in," I said.

It was inevitable. Before the show at the dungeon opening, our guild had been a marginal part of the town despite the strategic importance of Zolast. However, after the duel, that perception had changed radically. There was no hiding our political rise.

Which I hated, as it ruined our convenient veil of ignorance, but forced by the circumstances, it was the lesser of two evils. Visibility was bad … but not as bad as potentially losing the dungeon we had just created. With that, we suddenly rose among the guilds. This came with many perks, but also many annoyances.

Annoyances that I had to deal with as the Quartermaster, which was a tricky position. I was one of the officers of the guild, making me just important enough to deal with all unglamorous but important tasks. Not to mention, dealing with the self-important merchants and others to reach, under the impression that their scraps of attention would pay dividends in the future.

It was torture, but it had to be dealt with.

Especially since I had to stay in town to make sure nothing was going on. Jertann and the rest were in the dungeon — through the official entrance this time — while Zolast was at the outpost, reinforcing it officially now that he wasn't busy with the secret entrance. With both occupied, it was safer for me to stay in the town in case of an emergency.

An emergency like an attempt at retribution. Publicly shaming a spoiled baron with a military connection was bad enough. Add in suspected cultist connections, and things were even more dangerous.

Making sure at least one of us was available to defend the town was a good idea. Ironically, the outpost was easier to defend … At least it would be once Zolast built the several layers of magical protections he had been planning, which should be enough to keep the outpost safe until the reinforcements arrived.

The town was too big to repeat that same treatment.

When the merchant arrived, carrying a bottle of midrange wine, I nodded and smiled dismissively, rarely contributing to the pointless discussion about some inconsequential gossip. Luckily, most guests were entertained appropriately by their own voices, making any contribution unnecessary.

So, as he spoke, I went over the finances of the casino and other critical infrastructural decisions, trying to decide what to change after our strategic shift, and what to keep the same. Naturally, no paper was involved to prevent any spying by my guests, as I handled everything mentally, with the assistance of Memory.

Even as I used Memory Stat to great effect, I couldn't help but drift toward a different question.

The difference between Wisdom and Memory. Based on my discussion with Zolast, I could see that they overlapped to a surprising degree. Wisdom enhanced the retention capability of the mind just like Memory, but in addition, it helped greatly in manipulating mana. According to Zolast's explanation, that manipulation worked particularly well in some kinds of manipulations, such as healing magic.

However, that didn't automatically mean that Wisdom was superior, as our tests had shown that for similar points, Memory was several times more efficient in improving retention capability.

It led to important questions. Like, why the System has different stats functioning the same way…

However, when Dahmut knocked on the door with a set pattern — three short knocks followed by a break, then another short knock — I abandoned that line of thought and focused on the present. "Come in," I called, much to the displeasure of the merchant who had been babbling about his incredible defense against a bandit attack.

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Dahmut came to my side and whispered. "We have a drunk guest making trouble, boss," he said.

"Who?" I asked. Clearly, for Dahmut to intervene during a meeting — even if an unimportant one — it had to be someone of importance – and likely with a corresponding risk, considering his tense attitude.

"One of the battle leaders of the Night Blades," he explained, looking tense as he did so.

"Let me guess, he visited without any warning, started gambling, and you're unable to catch how he's cheating," I whispered, soft enough that our guest could act like he didn't hear. Dahmut nodded. "Why don't you escort our visitor out while I deal with it," I ordered him.

"But, we still need to talk about our cooperation plan—" the merchant started, but a sharp gaze was enough to silence him.

We all left the office. Dahmut escorted the merchant out while I went to the main playing area, and observed.

The place was the fullest I had ever seen, with an even bigger line outside, waiting for their turn. The combined effect of the dungeon operations and our unexpected reputation boosts combined to create a surprising boost.

And, from the commotion the Night Blade member was currently creating, they seemed to be ready to chip down that boost.

"What do you mean that's the limit of what I can bet," he shouted as he pushed a large ingot of silver, about three derums worth, as he faced the card dealer. "I'm a customer, and I want to play. Shut up and deal the next hand."

He was slurring his words. Combined with the distinct smell of alcohol, he made an impressive drunk.

Especially for a fake one.

I had to admit. His acting was good. The way he slurred his words, his inability to control his tone, even the way his eyes looked around, unfocused most of the time. If it wasn't for the sudden, reflexive sharpening of his posture whenever someone had approached him from behind, only for him to suppress that reaction, I might have been convinced of his drunkenness.

Well, that, and a dozen guild members spread around the casino, all disguised convincingly enough to avoid notice. Suggesting a professional touch.

Looking down from a balcony, I didn't need to speak to send a signal. Just a flash of fingers, one of the guards took the silent order and walked toward the dealer. As he leaned to whisper, I noticed the fake-drunk tensing, ready to act.

Yet, he did not, clearly waiting for an excuse, which the dealer didn't give based on my order. "As you wish, sir. I hadn't noticed you're a part of another exalted guild. Of course, you can play." With that, he dealt the cards … and after a minute of playing, lost.

Just like that, three derums of silver were gone, triggering a wave of gossip. It wasn't enough to put a dent in daily earnings, but it was still enough to turn heads.

Especially with the next move. "Double or nothing," he said as he pushed forward the chips he earned, along with his silver.

Further confirming that he was determined to create a commotion.

Yet, I gestured to the dealer to let him play … but play it slower.

"As you wish, sir," he said, and gestured at a servant. "Bring me a new deck."

"Not necessary, just deal with it," the drunk cut in.

The dealer shrugged, not letting his smile slip away. "I'm sorry sir, but that's the rules. I would get fired if I didn't follow it," he said. "But why don't we offer a nice glass of wine while you wait," he said, excessively passive.

There was a reason for it. I needed time to assess the situation.

A dozen members were not enough support, especially since I knew for a fact that none of them were above level sixty or had particularly rare classes. Naturally, it wasn't about my Perception. It was useful, but not enough to just identify people's level and class with a glance while they were standing.

No, that was the weeks of information gathering — both directly, and through my employees' efforts — rewarding me with critical information, one that clearly suggested that there was another layer for their ploy.

One that I needed to dig a bit to discover.

I didn't waste the time the dealer had granted me, and slowly, expanded my Charisma once more, targeting the highest ranking hidden member … and triggered a sudden sense of fear. It was a fleeting manipulation, just enough to cause an instinctive shiver.

And an involuntary glance at the people he trusted.

I wasn't surprised when he looked at a man I didn't recognize, as if he was encouraged by his presence.

It was a man who was dressed in ordinary clothing, sticking at the back, easy to ignore at first. However, as I kept my attention on him for a few seconds, I started noticing some interesting details, like the fact that his clothing cut was deceptively well-designed, and was made from a material that looked like ordinary linen, but certainly was not.

That detail was threatening enough … but when a random customer walked toward him, four men around him shuffled in unison, in a level of professionalism that was hard to match by anyone but dedicated bodyguards.

That was not good news.

I had a feeling that we had just earned the ire of the secret supporter – maybe even the true leader – of the Night Blades. Well, either that, or they had managed to find a new supporter.

Regardless, it was not something I was ready to confront. Luckily, it was something I was prepared for, even if it was more extreme than I wanted to use. I gestured to Dahmut, who looked startled, but went upstairs… a minute later, an explosion rocked the building and our roof started burning.

"Everyone, please evacuate in an orderly manner," one of the guards shouted while the rest moved in a practiced ease as they escorted the customers out. I noticed a frown on the face of the mysterious young man, likely realizing that something was amiss, but he said nothing as he turned and left.

And, along with him, the Night Blades.

"Keep the casino closed down until the guildmaster can add some magical protection," I ordered. I didn't like losing revenue … but I liked being played even less.