Chapter 201
Empire Engulfed (II)
The town, as it was the one bordering the capital city, was swarming with people; it didn’t hurt that it was the landing point of all newcomers and, as such, it had far more inns than towns of this size ordinarily would. As far as Cain caught, it was called Bydreel, after one of the founding Dukes of the Kingdom.
Despite the fact that cobblestone-paved streets were lined with inns, the party still took a good hour and a half to find one with enough room for everyone. Cain had to fess out quite a few items since they didn’t have any of the local currency, but it hardly put a dent in their ‘pockets’ since they were practically hoarders of items at this point.
Cain stayed with Jamal and Taima, Emma with Senna, Daniel with Sigmund and Lek, and Kramer with Elypso. The former’s room overlooked one of the wide streets pouring toward the town’s central plaza, cramped with stalls on both ends as though it was a festival, and hundreds crowding the street as far as he could see.
“I still can’t get used to all this shit,” Jamal sighed as he popped open a bottle of water, sitting by the window pane. “It’s like stepping back into history... except, you know, it ain’t history but present.”
“Damn, you can complicate anything, can’t you?”
“Oh, shut it,” Jamal rolled his eyes. “I’ll take care of picking up the rumors in brothels.”
“...”
“...”
“What? Are you waiting for me to give you permission?” Cain grinned.
“Na, was waiting for that comment,” Jamal said. “So you don’t gas up holding it inside as I know you would.”
“I’m getting predictable, aren’t I?”
“Getting?”
“Ouch.”
“What kinda info are we looking for specifically?” Jamal asked as Cain took a deep breath, rubbing his chin thoughtfully for a moment before replying.
“Everything,” he said. “The Quest wasn’t given by a system.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning... we likely can’t trust most of it,” Cain shrugged. “For all I know, that Prince dude is some underworld gangsta pimp trying to usurp the throne.”
“... you made--”
“It wasn’t ‘cause you’re black.”
“So was.”
“Are we gonna have this conversation again?”
“You mean a conversation in which we both adamantly deny being racist,” Jamal said. “Whilst being blatantly racist?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“A’right,” he shrugged, standing up and stretching. “Taima, let’s go and make you into a man.”
“E-eh?”
“Stop screwing with the kid,” Cain warned. “And avoid brothels for now.”
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“E-eh? Why?”
“’cause we need to figure out which one gets frequented by the upper echelon,” Cain elaborated. “You can at least attempt to pretend your main goal is valuable information.”
“... fine,” Jamal groaned, sighing after. “We’ll go and stroll the stalls, see what’s what and who’s who and all that. What about you?”
“I’m gonna take a nap.”
“Seriously?”
“Ye’, I’m feeling a bit sleepy.”
“... I... I won’t even. See ya.”
“See ya’!”
Cain chuckled as he watched helpless Taima being dragged outside, the boy’s eyes pleadingly staring at Cain who simply looked away. He didn’t waste time either, though, quickly leaving the inn and beginning to roam. Everyone already knew to gather for dinner in a few hours and to ‘scout’ beforehand, so he wasn’t worried about the others.
As such, he went to explore the far edges of the town that lay in a dip of sorts whose edges were lined by downtrodden shacks and beggars on the edges. It wasn’t difficult to find the ‘slums’ of the town, as, really, only its center and the immediate area were developed in any fashion, with the vast majority of the town being similar to Cain’s current surroundings -- shacks and huts piled on top of each other, small and cramped, with invasive stenches dominating the world.
He was hardly surprised with the sight, even if it would depress the hearts of the many; listless, skeletal folk lying about with depleted wills and hollow eyes are never a rarity -- neither on the Earth and especially not in the Tower. Strangely, the lower floors were not nearly as bad as the higher ones; at some point, there would be one, major city stacked against hundreds of downtrodden villages full of people surrounding it, all dependent on the city’s tossed garbage to survive.
While the life on Earth can certainly be cruel and unfair, everyone would soon come to learn that it can get much, much worse on a far larger scale. Sighing, he ignored the extended arms and dug deeper, going further in; even in this sort of a hell, there was always some order -- a spokeshead or such, someone they turn to when it concerns everyone. Cain’s aim was to find whoever that was and see whether it would be possible to make some sort of a deal. Beggars, much like on Earth so in here eventually become filtered out, part of the background, completely ignored. They turn into the invisible noise, the collection of specks that exist somewhere in the depths of one’s mind, hardly worth the attention.
It’s not as though they gain access to every piece of information, naturally, but they’re usually the most trustworthy source of the ‘general’ information -- state of affairs, economy, prosperity, latest trends, rumors, etc. Nothing truly specific that can be directly exploited, but valuable enough that it was worth listening to, especially for the newcomers to the place.
Aside from beggars, prostitutes were also a valuable source of information, but hardly universally so. Similarly so were the live-in servants, butlers, maids and such, frustrated and drunk members of the extended families, and even family coaches. There was a wealth of knowledge to be gained about everyone so long as people knew where to look at and which buttons to push.
Cain stopped suddenly, noting seven or so people sitting around a bonfire of sorts, a few dead rats hanging over the fire. His appearance immediately drew their attention, the shifty eyes scrutinizing him from top to bottom. He smiled nonchalantly and walked up to the group who grew even warier of him, pulling back into the ‘roofed’, open-walled shack behind them.
“He~~yo!” Cain called out. “Lookin’ fine on this fine day, gents.”
“...” if the looks could speak, ‘who’s this lunatic?’ and ‘which ward did this madlad escape from?’ would be the frontrunners at the moment.
“What’s cookin’? Alright, I’ll stop; even I’m starting to get embarrassed,” he grinned lightly and crouched in front of the fire. “Name’s Cain.”
“’tis our spot,” one of the men spat out. “Yelp off elsewhere, bugger.”
“And what a lovely spot it is,” Cain said as he pulled out several dozen items from his inventory and poured them out onto the floor, startling the group of eight -- one of whom he didn’t notice immediately as they were cradled further in the back. “Oh, silly me, look at how I just let all of these really valuable and rare items slip out of my pocket! Tsk, tsk, what a clumsy man I am...”
“...” Cain looked up only to be met with a familiar sight -- everyone rolling their eyes.
“Khm, but, uh, khm, well, now that they’re out of my pocket anyway, it must mean that my pockets are too small--”
“--you’re worse at this than a dog chasin’ its silly tail,” one of the men scoffed. “Whats’ you want, stupid boy? Don’t treat us like idiots!”
“... I’m new to this place, you see,” Cain smiled faintly for a moment before speaking. “And scared I might accidentally anger some people that I shouldn’t, see? I’m just trying to keep my skin safe, ‘s all.”
“Do we look like ‘dem bodyguards to you, boy?! Bugger off!”
“What do you want?” the one in the back -- who Cain realized was a woman -- asked suddenly, surprising the others who piped down immediately. Cain’s attention shifted to her; half her face was covered by an old piece of cloth, the other, exposed half ripe with blisters and moles.
“Nothing dangerous,” Cain said. “Just a slight push so I can catch up to the newest gossip. Just remember,” he added quickly. “This... was just what was overflowing,” he pointed at the items scattered on the ground. “And that was with the oceanic depth of my pockets to begin with. And, that’s me being quite humble, actually.”