The young woman knocks softly on the large wooden door, and after a moment, a gruff voice from inside says, “Come in.”

We exchange a quick glance, my nerves spiking, but there’s no turning back now. As we walk inside, the room shifts into something far more luxurious than the backrooms we passed through. It’s grand, to say the least—dark wooden walls adorned with tapestries, gold inlays in every corner, and large, plush furniture that looks like it belongs in a palace.

But the first thing that grabs my attention is the figure seated behind a grand desk, his sharp claws gripping a piece of jewellery, turning it over in his hands with intense focus. He’s a vulture-man hybrid—his face long and beak-like, with dark, sunken eyes peeking out from behind a monocle. He looks the part of someone who’s far too invested in the wealth around him, his scaly fingers moving with precision as he studies the gold. This guy screams "dangerous businessman," and I can’t shake the feeling that he’s the type who’d rip us off without blinking.

He finally looks up, setting the jewellery down on a velvet cloth before turning his attention to us. His dark eyes gleam with curiosity and greed, but his expression remains professional.

“Welcome, boys,” he says, his voice raspy but oddly formal. “What’s the situation?”

The young woman steps forward and explains the situation in a rush, detailing how she couldn’t authenticate the goods we presented and thought it best to bring us straight to him. As she speaks, his sharp gaze narrows on her, but he doesn’t interrupt, simply nodding along. Once she finishes, he gestures toward a luxurious sofa across from his desk.

“Please, sit,” he says, with an air of authority that doesn’t leave much room for debate. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with.”

We all sit down, sinking into the plush cushions. The sofa is more comfortable than anything we’ve ever sat on, but it only makes me more nervous. The young woman stands stiffly by the door, clearly nervous as well.

He turns to her, his beady eyes locking onto hers. “Get to work,” he says sternly, though there’s a gentleness in his tone. “And keep this all a secret. Unless you’d like to lose your place in this city.”

She bows deeply, her face pale, before quickly excusing herself from the room. The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving us alone with the vulture-man.

He turns back to us, his talons tapping softly against the desk. “Now,” he begins, leaning back in his chair, “my name is Narkul. And I assume you’re here to sell some rather… interesting goods, yes?”

I glance at my brothers, their faces mirroring my unease, but we nod in unison.

“Haru,” I say, introducing myself first, trying to keep my voice steady. “These are my brothers, Jiho, Isak, and Abel.”

Narkul gives a slight nod, studying each of us with those cold, calculating eyes. “Very well, Haru. Show me what you have.”

I take a deep breath, reaching into the bag of valuables we brought, and lay the first piece—a shining golden necklace—on the desk in front of him. Narkul’s eyes immediately light up, but his face remains unreadable as he leans forward, picking up the necklace with a delicate claw.

For a long moment, he says nothing, just studying the piece with intense focus, his monocle gleaming in the light. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest as I wait for his reaction.

Narkul slowly examines each item we present, his long claws delicately handling the treasures as he purrs to himself. It’s a soft, unsettling sound, like a predator mulling over its next meal. He doesn’t say a word as he takes out every piece from the bag—golden necklaces, silver rings encrusted with crystals, chunks of platinum that gleam under the light, and rare gemstones that shimmer with a brilliance I’ve never seen before.

The silence in the room feels heavy, like we’re waiting for a judge to deliver a verdict. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Narkul leans back in his chair, a smile curling on his thin beak. His sharp eyes gleam with both curiosity and disbelief as he looks over us.

“How,” he begins, his voice low and smooth, “did four young men like yourselves come into possession of such wealth?”

We all exchange quick glances, and before I can speak, Jiho steps in, his voice steady but confident. “Oh, you know... family heirlooms,” he says, waving his hand in the air casually. “Passed down through generations. We had to, uh, move them here after things back home got complicated.”

Isak, ever quick on his feet, jumps in. “Yeah, it’s a whole long story. You wouldn’t believe the kind of places we’ve had to keep this stuff safe.”

Abel, keeping up with the lie, adds in his usual stoic tone, “Dangerous business, really. But we managed.”

Narkul raises a skeptical eyebrow, but something in the elaborate lie must have clicked for him, because after a moment, he nods, clearly satisfied with our story—or at least willing to pretend he is. “Mmm, I see. Quite the tale.”

He glances back at the treasures laid out on his desk, the shimmering collection almost filling the surface. He picks up one of the crystalline pieces and holds it up to the light, inspecting it carefully before setting it down again.

“There’s no trace of mana in these,” he finally says, his tone analytical. “But the quality… this gold, this platinum, these crystals... they are of the highest calibre I’ve seen in many lifetimes.”

My heart skips a beat, and I can feel the tension in the room rise. If this is the best he’s seen in lifetimes, it has to be worth a fortune, right?

But then Narkul surprises us. He leans back, folding his clawed hands in front of him, his expression calm but firm. “The truth is... I cannot afford this. Not even with all of my wealth combined.”

A cold wave of fear washes over us. I feel Abel tense up beside me, and Jiho's face goes pale. Isak, for once, has nothing to say. We’re stuck. We need this money, and if Narkul, with all his wealth, can’t afford it… what do we do?

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“We… we need the money,” I say, my voice tight. “We can’t just hold onto this stuff.”

Narkul watches me closely, his expression softening slightly. There’s a strange integrity in his eyes, something honest, as if he genuinely wishes he could help. “The best I can offer,” he says slowly, “is to take this and pay you a monthly sum over the course of... ten lifetimes.”

We all freeze, stunned. Ten lifetimes?

Abel is the first to break the silence. “Wait, are you saying we have so much wealth that even paying us monthly, it would take you ten lifetimes to cover it?”

Narkul nods solemnly. “Indeed. Even at my wealth, I’m unsure I could meet the monthly payments for something of this magnitude. The amount of gold, platinum, and jewels you possess… it is beyond anything I’ve seen. You could buy half the city if you wanted.”

The room goes silent again as we all process what he’s just said. This treasure is worth more than we could’ve ever imagined. But now we’re faced with a new problem—what do we do with it? And how do we get the money we need to survive in this city now?

I glance at Narkul. Despite the fear we all felt at first, there’s something genuine in his voice. He’s not trying to rip us off, that much is clear. But even with his honesty, we’re still in a bind.

Narkul taps his claws on the desk, his eyes narrowing as he thinks. “There is... one more option,” he says slowly, his voice thoughtful.

We all lean in slightly, the tension building again.

“What is it?” I ask, barely able to keep the edge of desperation out of my voice.

Narkul’s beak twists into a small smile as he leans forward. “I have one more idea, something that could solve both our problems. But it will require a bit of... trust.” He pauses for dramatic effect, eyeing us carefully before continuing. “I propose a partnership.”

We sit at the edge of our seats, waiting to hear what kind of offer he’s about to lay on the table.

Narkul leans back, his sharp eyes glinting as he taps his claws on the desk, thinking. "First, tell me," he begins, his voice low and calculated, "do you plan to live in this city primarily?"

We exchange glances. It’s clear none of us have really thought that far ahead. I open my mouth to answer, but Jiho beats me to it. “Honestly, we haven’t decided yet. We’re still figuring things out.”

Narkul nods, as if this is the answer he expected. His eyes narrow slightly, and I can tell he’s gauging us, reading every little movement, every glance. He’s sharp, perceptive—far more than I expected. There’s a moment of silence, and then he begins to speak, launching into a monologue as if he’s explaining something fundamental to our existence.

“This city,” he says, gesturing widely, “is the crown jewel of education across the entire world. The richest, the most talented, the brightest minds come here to study—everything from the ancient arts to the newest technologies. Those who leave this city often become the most powerful, most influential leaders across the globe. Sanzu is where the future is shaped.”

I feel a shiver run down my spine. The weight of his words is heavy, like he’s revealing some grand secret of the world.

Narkul leans forward again, his gaze sharp as ever. “You’re foreigners, aren’t you? You don’t know who I am.”

It’s not a question. He’s stating it like an observation he’s already confirmed. I swallow, but there’s no point in lying. “No,” I admit. “We don’t.”

He chuckles, a deep sound that comes from his chest. “I am the wealthiest man in this city. One of the wealthiest in the world.”

There’s a heavy pause as the weight of his words sinks in. But then, with a sly smile, he adds, “Or rather, I was the wealthiest man in the world.”

Isak shifts nervously beside me, and I can tell he’s unsure of where this is going. “Oh, uh… congrats?” he says awkwardly, trying to lighten the tension with a joke. It falls flat, but Narkul doesn’t seem to mind.

Abel, on the other hand, sits forward, his eyes focused, almost like he’s trying to figure out where this conversation is heading. Jiho, ever curious, leans in as well, his interest clearly piqued.

Narkul taps his claws together again, his eyes sharp and calculating. “You see, the introduction of you four... has changed things. The wealth you carry? It surpasses even mine.”

A stunned silence fills the room. Even Isak, who’s usually quick with a remark, goes quiet. Jiho looks like he’s barely breathing, his mind racing. Abel’s face hardens in concentration, still trying to piece together what Narkul might want from us.

I can feel the tension in the air, and I know something big is coming. Narkul’s not just telling us all this to inflate our egos—there’s more to it.

“As a wealthy man in this city,” Narkul continues, his voice smooth and deliberate, “I am heavily taxed. My profits, while immense, are reduced because of these taxes. But your wealth… your treasure… it could cover all my fees easily for generations to come.”

I glance at the others, their faces reflecting the same mix of disbelief and shock. Generations? This is way more than we ever anticipated.

Then, Narkul asks a question that sends a chill through me. “Do you have any guardians?”

There’s a slight pause before I answer, my voice low. “No. Our guardians have died. We’re the last of our family.”

Narkul’s eyes gleam with something I can’t quite place—satisfaction, maybe? His beak curls into a slight smile, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk.

“What if,” he says, his voice soft but deliberate, “you had access to my bank account from this day forward?”

We all freeze, my heart skipping a beat as his words sink in. His bank account? The wealthiest man in the city—and he’s offering us access to everything he owns?

Narkul straightens up, his eyes locked onto ours. “I cannot have generations of my own,” he explains, his voice taking on a strangely personal tone. “And I am reaching the end of my final lifetime. I have no one to pass my fortune onto. No one to continue my legacy.”

Isak looks like he’s about to speak, but no words come out. Even Abel, calm and collected as ever, seems at a loss for what to say. Jiho is just staring, his mouth slightly open in disbelief.

“And so,” Narkul continues, his voice as smooth as ever, “I propose this: you become my next generation. You will have access to my wealth, my resources. But in return, you must stay in this city—and perhaps the surrounding areas—as your primary residence for the rest of your lives. You will study here, work under me, and help me keep this city running as it should.”

His offer hangs in the air, heavy with expectation. He’s not just offering us wealth—he’s offering us a future. But it’s a future bound to this city, to him, and to responsibilities we haven’t even begun to understand.

I feel the weight of the moment pressing down on me, and I know the others feel it too. Narkul is watching us carefully, waiting for our answer.

And for the first time since we arrived, I realize just how big this decision really is.

"We agree," I finally say, my voice firm.

The others nod along, a mix of shock and excitement on their faces. Narkul smiles wider, pleased with our answer, but I can’t shake the feeling that this is only the beginning of something much, much bigger than any of us imagined.