The Guild Master unfolded the parchment with theatrical gravitas, cleared his throat, and read with a hint of mockery, “Murphy, male, eighteen years old, Level Twenty, low-rank magician. Verification method: twenty pieces of the Pale Bones of Level Ten Skeletons.”

He continued with an explanatory tone, “According to his own report, these twenty skeletons were his solo kills. However, our investigation shows that during that time he was traveling with Seth, that upstart’s son from who knows where.”

“That stray whelp of the old man has some decent strength. Probably both of them took down the twenty skeletons, but the lad hogged all the credit for himself.”

“So, what you're saying is, that mage isn’t even Level Twenty?” someone at the dining table asked.

“That’s my guess. After all, we're not in the capital brimming with elites or in duke territories. Even if that no-name mage is exceptionally gifted, he can't be more than Level Twenty,” the Guild Master asserted, thumping his chest for emphasis.

"That eases my mind," the leading staffer said with a grin, "I’ve dispatched only my most elite subordinates to that Clyster Street address, Number Two.”

As he spoke, his teeth clenched with irked resentment, “Just thinking about how these opportunistic scoundrels are living it up in the best houses in the West District makes my blood boil.”

“Calm yourself, sir,” another staffer consoled, “After all, the young mage is a friend of Byron. We have to be cautious. We should try to capture them alive. Otherwise, we’ll have a hard time when Seth dies.”

“Of course, I’m aware. Murphy can live, but that lowborn scum Alaric has to die,” the main staffer seethed.

“Rest assured, sir, everything’s been arranged. Now we just wait for the good news.”

---

Soldiers burst through the guild's doors with brute force, startling the female staff into a state of shock. The leader pointed at the nearest one sharply and demanded, “Where’s the Guild Master's room?”

The frightened worker could barely speak, but managed to point tremblingly upstairs. The soldier shoved her aside and stormed up the staircase.

Amidst a cacophony of clashing armor and splintering wood, Alaric's office was filled to the brim with tin cans in human form.

The room had been stripped of everything but scattered parchment and broken furniture.

The troop leader, returning with his men to the main hall, grabbed the worker he had just shoved, barking, “Where is he?”

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“W-W-Who are you asking about?” The worker stammered, once again hoisted into the air.

“Your leader, Alaric, he’s not in his office!” the armored brute roared.

“The-the-the Guild Master didn’t come in today…”

“And why didn’t you mention this crucial information just now?”

“You-you-you didn’t ask…”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Ye-ye-ye-ye-yesterday evening after work…”

The leader tossed the worker aside like garbage for the second time, then turned to his men, “To his house! That shameless tramp dares to skip work? Unbelievable!”

Meanwhile, a gang from the South District, armed with clubs, had pried open the doors of City of Gath General Store.

A sleepy-eyed clerk peered out, mumbling, “Please come back later; can’t you see it’s martial law today?”

The clerk barely got to close the door when a cluster of sticks wedged it open again. In an instant, the door was wrenched ajar.

The clerk, shoved to the floor, snapped awake, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Boys, smash it!” the gang leader commanded.

The gang members surged into the store through the half-open door, wreaking havoc. The brigands had their own impressive methods of destruction, ensuring not to rough up the staff too badly. Instead, they herded them into a cramped room, out of the way.

As one more clerk was crammed into the can-like room, a brief silence fell over the mingling gangs.

Ringleaders from different gangs exchanged glances and burst into laughter one after another.

“Doggy, go ahead and close the door,” one chief directed.

"You got it, boss," the skinny ruffian chuckled, closing the shop’s doors and securing the door with his wooden club.

"Time to live it up, brothers!" the leaders chanted almost in unison, then ditching their clubs, they charged straight for the food section.

Like dogs starved for days, the gang savagely indulged in the food section, sparing not a single piece of edible fruit or veggie.

The stuff that required cooking wasn’t spared either, stuffed by the fistfuls into their clothes, with ropes they'd brought along tied around their waists.

An hour later, each gang member departed with his belly outstretched, burping contentedly, leaving not a mess but emptied counters and more than a dozen bewildered shop clerks locked in the tiny room.

The incensed soldiers stormed out of the Guild Master's home as swiftly as they entered finding not even a shadow inside. The residence was ransacked, the secret door on the wall ajar, sadly emptied of its secrets.

The unit leader, with all the fury he could muster, slammed his metal helmet against the wall, “Where are they? Where?!”

A subordinate whispered from behind, “Perhaps to find that magician.”

The troop leader spun around, directing all his rage at the man, “Why didn’t you say sooner? All hands on deck, to Clyster Street!”

Inside the drawing-room of Number Two, Clyster Street.

Murphy, his followers, and Alaric's family were sipping tea brought from Alaric's home.

“Dad, why aren’t we at home?” Alaric’s son inquired.

Alaric sipped his tea with a smile, “The house isn't safe right now, so we're staying at your Uncle Murph—”

His words hung in the air as he caught Murphy’s murderous look and promptly swallowed the word 'Uncle' with a gulp of tea.

“...I mean, we're staying with big brother Murphy for a few days,” Alaric said, wiping away a nonexistent sweat.

“So, we’re safe here with brother Murphy?” the child asked innocently.

Reflecting for a moment, Alaric confidently replied, “I’d say it’s safer here than in a count’s castle.”

Just as he finished, a loudspeaker-enhanced voice from outside bellowed, “Attention inside, you are surrounded. Come out and surrender immediately!”