After the visit from Fox's man, Mako got to work.
His arm and leg wounds hadn't fully healed, but it wasn't hard to convince the queen he'd found leads on Arthur's daughter in Galandria's slums.
It was a lie, of course. A flimsy excuse to hunt Erick and seize control of the gangs forming in the area.
Unfortunately, that excuse meant he wasn't alone…
Mako walked the uneven, neglected streets, picturesque in their own rough way.
The houses around him were a jumble of shapes, built haphazardly with no symmetry, painted in every color imaginable.
Crossing the desolate streets, he couldn't avoid potholes while eyeing the vibrant murals on the walls.
"You really got intel that Arthur's daughter is around here?" Zork asked.
The orc, dressed in a noble's suit, was tasked with overseeing Mako's work, as usual.
"Yeah. Plus, it's the only part of the city we don't control," Mako said.
Zork carried a massive axe slung over his shoulder. The streets were mostly empty, but the occasional passerby fled in panic at the sight of him.
His towering height was intimidating enough; with that axe, no one dared approach.
"Did you really need to bring that thing?" Mako asked. "You didn't even carry it when the queen was attacked."
"It's not normal for the queen to be attacked like that!" Zork defended. "Besides, you're armed too. Who's to say they're scared just of me?"
He pointed at Mako's rapier, sheathed at his side.
"Quit bickering, you two," Polifemo said, the third member of their group. "We need to hurry. It's still daylight, but when night falls…"
"Oh, yeah. I've heard the stories. This place is hell on earth," Zork finished Polifemo's thought.
Mako ignored their chatter.
The trio kept walking until they reached their destination:
A rundown tavern that offered cheap lodging. One of many.
"I'll go in alone. You two stay out here," Mako ordered.
Zork grunted.
"If you take too long," Zork said, "I'm coming in."
With that, Mako entered the tavern.
The place was nearly empty. It was still daytime, after all. Only a few alcoholics lingered, likely passed out since the night before.
The bartender eyed Mako oddly. Even if the place were packed, he'd probably stare the same way. Mako walked in not only in noble attire but armed.
"A noble?" the bartender asked, wiping a beer mug with a rag.
"Does it matter?" Mako said, sitting at the counter.
"Either you're a noble or someone with a lot of cash and terrible fashion taste," the bartender said seriously. "What do you want?"
His last words cut sharply. He clearly wasn't talking about drinks, and Mako wasn't there for one.
"I heard Fox is dead," Mako said.
At that, the bartender stopped ignoring him, setting the mug aside.
He leaned his arms across the counter.
"Old news," he said.
"I also heard you control a big chunk of this side of the city," Mako said without hesitation.
The bartender rubbed his chin.
"Hmm, not exactly," he said, pouring himself a large mug of beer. "I just make sure people don't kill each other around here."
He took a long gulp from the mug.
Mako waited as he finished.
The mug was empty in seconds.
"I need information…" Mako said.
The bartender eyed him for a moment.
"I need to know Erick Sol's whereabouts."
The bartender stared at Mako, then poured another hefty mug of beer, foam spilling over the rim and dripping onto the counter.
He downed it in a few gulps, leaving it empty.
Mako recalled Fox… and how he chain-smoked during their meeting.
Mako stood, alert, drawing his rapier and pointing it at the bartender's chest.
"Whoa, whoa!" the bartender exclaimed. "Are all you nobles out of your damn minds?"
"Stop drinking. Now," Mako ordered.
"Fine, fine. Hell, what's your problem?" the bartender said. Mako's movement knocked the mug to the floor, shattering it.
The noise roused one of the drunks slumped at a corner table, but he collapsed back into a deep sleep.
"A man can't even drink in peace," the bartender muttered. "Unlike you lot, we don't have those fancy systems or abilities. Don't need 'em…"
Mako, untrusting, kept his grip steady, the rapier's tip aimed at the man's chest.
"Answer. Where can I find Erick?" Mako said quietly.
The bartender, cornered (literally), didn't look nervous.
"No one knows, but…" he began, rubbing his chin again, "there's talk he'll strike at the festival tomorrow."
"Festival?" Mako asked.
"Yeah, perfect for selling drinks. People celebrate big, though no one remembers exactly what for," the bartender said, eyeing the rapier's tip.
"Look," he continued, now meeting Mako's gaze, "since that maniac attacked Fox, there've been hits on other crime bosses. Everyone wants a piece of Fox's business, but that explosive psychopath won't let anyone move."
Then Mako heard the tavern doors swing open behind him.
It was Zork.
"Heard a noise. Your dumb demon tried to stop me. What's going on?" Zork said, entering with Polifemo.
"Nothing… I know where to find who we're looking for," Mako said, sheathing his rapier.
Zork glared at the bartender, who began sweeping up the broken glass under the counter.
The orc gave Mako a suspicious look.
◇◆◇
Night approached. Mako, Zork, and Polifemo returned.
Mako shared the information, hiding that it was a trap for Erick.
"The locals are holding a festival tomorrow. Something big. It's very likely Arthur's daughter, Rebecca, will show up," Mako told Zork and Polifemo.
Polifemo was more focused on the sunset over the slum's rooftops.
"I see," Zork said. "You sure he didn't just say that because you were threatening him?"
Mako shot Zork a sidelong glance.
"I'm sure, Zork."
"Hmm, alright, Mako. Let's head back to the castle. We need to file today's report and prepare troops."
Mako stared at him, stunned by the last part.
"Troops?" Mako said, incredulous. "That'll just scare her off."
"Huh? Oh, no, no," Zork said in his deep voice. "We don't have solid proof Rebecca will be at the festival tomorrow."
Polifemo stopped gazing at the sunset.
"We're going to wreck that festival," Zork declared.
Mako couldn't shake a terrible feeling about it.