Tassa was brought to a small room on the second floor of the tavern. The burly man instructed the server to continue cleaning, then closed the door.

This place was used to host customers with special needs, charging only twenty-five copper eagles a night, so the environment wasn't exactly elegant. The narrow bed had a musty smell, and the bedding was wrinkled, as if it hadn't been washed and aired out for a long time. A corner of the cracked wooden table was missing, and the cracks were filled with black fluff, making the surface greasy and dirty. But Tassa didn't bother to fuss; he plopped down on the edge of the bed, quietly waiting for the other party to speak.

"Long time no see," the burly man grinned, "Since Naji took your place, why don't you even come to the tavern anymore? Even if you're no longer in charge of this, you can still come for a drink."

His nickname was Black Hammer, the keeper of the "Underground Trumpet" tavern, and a member of the Skeleton Fingers. It sounded scary, but he was just one of the many rats in the Black Street of the royal capital. The rats formed gangs, divided territories, and formed large and loose organizations based on their business operations. These underground organizations were backed by big nobles or wealthy merchants to varying degrees, and the Skeleton Fingers were no exception. But unlike house dogs, most rats wouldn't choose to be loyal to one person; as long as there was profit, they could work for anyone.

"Spare me the nonsense," Tassa said bluntly, "Tonight, call Sylvie, Pig Farmer, Silver Ring, and Pottery Jar here, in this tavern. I have something to arrange."

"These are all people from the Underground Trumpet," Black Hammer was taken aback, "Is that enough?"

"I told you, it's a good deal." He shrugged, "I specifically looked for you because you've done a lot for me in the past."

According to the usual procedure for dealing with the Black Street, you first had to find a contact person, who would then decide whether to accept the task. After the two parties reached an agreement, the contact person would entrust the task to a suitable person, while charging a fee. Of course, there was no contract or proof to guarantee this process, and whether the final result met the employer's expectations was completely unknown. Generally speaking, the more famous an organization, the more it valued its reputation, and the higher the commission fee, while newly emerging organizations charged less, but were more likely to end up losing both money and people. These rats and the city patrol formed a delicate balance, jointly maintaining the surface order of the royal capital.

Before entering the royal palace as a palace guard, Tassa had served in the patrol, responsible for handing over some shady affairs to various organizations in the Black Street. Therefore, he knew the most powerful rat packs in the royal capital like the back of his hand, saving him the time of dealing with contact people. As for choosing the Skeleton Fingers, it was simply because they weren't completely rotten yet.

"Can I ask, who are you working for now?" Black Hammer asked after hesitating for a moment.

Tassa didn't answer, but instead pointed his thumb towards the royal palace behind him.

Whether it was the patrol or the rats, most people only knew that he had become a guard, but they didn't know that he had soon been selected by Wimbledon III as the fourth prince's personal guard, and went to Border Town with His Highness the Prince. In these six months of disappearance, they probably thought he had been staying in the palace all along. Besides, he was only pointing towards the royal palace, not lying—the royal family wasn't just Tiffeco, Roland Wimbledon was also a member of the royal family.

"I understand," he nodded, "But Sylvie and Pig Farmer are gone. Can I choose my own men?"

"What happened to them?"

"Dead." Black Hammer said resentfully, "Last winter, they had a conflict with the people from Dream Water. They were selling poppy flowers and Long Sleep Ferns in the North District territory. Casass led the guys to drive them back. Sylvie had her neck cut, and the blood wouldn't stop at all. Pig Farmer was filled into the canal."

Tassa frowned. The patrol wouldn't care about this kind of thing at all. They would even deliberately provoke the rats to bite each other from time to time in order to control their strength and number. As for the dead, no one cared. "That's fine, but you have to remember, they must be people from the tavern."

...

After leaving the Underground Trumpet, Tassa took a deep breath.

The damp and moldy smell in the tavern made him feel a little nauseous. It wasn't until the hot air rushed into his lungs that this turbid and stuffy feeling was slightly dispelled.

Although Black Hammer warmly invited him to wait in the tavern, and even claimed to take out the best wine to entertain him, Tassa was unwilling to stay in a small place for too long. If something unexpected happened, he wouldn't be able to detect the abnormality immediately.

Next, he decided to go to the inner city to find a reliable hotel to book a room for tonight. As for the First Army soldiers, they were very familiar with the set of camping at night and didn't need to worry about it.

After nightfall, Tassa returned to the Underground Trumpet again.

At this time, the tavern was already open for business, and customers came in and out from time to time. He watched from the shadows for a while before following a drinker into the house.

As a low-end tavern in the outer city, most of the people who came here to drink were commoners, and the drinks were all cheap, inferior ale, and ten copper eagles could buy several large bowls in a row. In the noisy voices, he quickly found Black Hammer's subordinates. They were sitting around a wall-side partition, with a white finger bone on the table.

Tassa walked over without showing any emotion, and someone immediately made way for him.

"Good evening, sir," Silver Ring and Pottery Jar nodded in greeting.

"Let me introduce these two to you. This is Little Finger," Black Hammer patted the little guy next to him, then pointed to the young man beside her, "Hill Fox, just joined the Skeleton Fingers recently."

"Fox?" Tassa's gaze stopped on the other person, who bowed his head in a somewhat restrained manner.

"In our line of work, there are very few guys with complete surnames," Black Hammer laughed, "He lost everything gambling, his wife ran away with someone else, and he even sold the house, so he had to throw himself into the Black Street. Don't worry, he used to live in the North District and occasionally patronized the Underground Trumpet."

Silver Ring and Pottery Jar were old acquaintances, Little Finger looked no different from an ordinary street urchin, but this Hill Fox, Tassa felt a little strange... His appearance and expression were indeed very similar to that of a loser who had become mentally exhausted after experiencing a major shock, but his eyes also contained something indescribable, like... He thought about it, but couldn't get an accurate answer after all.

Well, since he lived in the North District and was a regular at the tavern, it shouldn't be a big problem. And the first task he had to complete was to transport the fleeing people, without any risk.

"Listen up, things aren't complicated. The above doesn't want to see the number of fleeing people from the Eastern Territory continue to increase. The food for relief is decreasing every day. If this continues, a riot will happen sooner or later, and it will be much more troublesome to deal with at that time. So we have to find a way to get them out of the royal capital."

"What do you need us to do?" Black Hammer asked.

"It's very simple, spread a message saying that the Western Territory is reclaiming wasteland, and the local lord is willing to accept this group of fleeing people, and the escorting mercenaries and fleet have already set off, and will arrive at the Canal Wharf in three days. What you have to do is spread this message to those idiots outside the city. You can add details freely, the more realistic the better."

"But... if there are no mercenaries and fleets at that time, it won't be of any use no matter how realistic it sounds," Silver Ring said.

"Of course these will be there," Tassa smiled.

"Ah?" He was stunned, "Does a Western Territory lord really want to accept them?"

"You idiot," Black Hammer slapped him on the back of the head, "Of course you have to play the whole set when acting. After being transported to the Western Territory, can they walk back to the royal capital on their own two legs? As for how to deal with them, let the local lord have a headache." He looked at Tassa, "It's indeed not a tricky task, but the reward..."

Tassa held up two fingers, "Double. My new employer is not like the patrol, he just wants to see the results as soon as possible, and gold dragons don't mean much to him." He smiled slightly, "I told you, it's a good deal."