The Royal Capital wouldn't go to such great lengths to maintain order, nor would it allow so many people to remain so tight-lipped about the same thing.
Thinking of this, Matthew slowly exhaled. He hadn't spent the day cultivating, absorbing magic stones, or even practicing his swordsmanship, yet he felt he had gained more than he would have from a full day of training.
He had finally figured something out. The Royal Capital consisted of two worlds: one belonging to ordinary people, and the other to the extraordinary.
During the day, these two worlds rarely intersected. The common folk went about their lives, merchants conducted their business, nobles held their banquets, and Class holders accepted their commissions.
But when night fell, the other world began to stir, hidden from the eyes of ordinary people.
Matthew couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle. In his previous life, novels and films loved to depict extraordinary organizations hidden within human society. He had always thought it was a bit exaggerated.
However, after truly arriving in this world, he discovered that the more mature an extraordinary system was, the more it tended to hide itself. Only by remaining hidden could the order of ordinary people remain intact. Only by remaining hidden could they avoid unnecessary trouble. This seemed to hold true regardless of the world.
Matthew sat back in his chair and spread the map of the Royal Capital he had purchased earlier across the table. The soft light of the magic crystal lamp illuminated the entire map.
He picked up his quill but didn't rush to write. Instead, he recalled all the information he had gathered throughout the day. He drew a circle around the Theater District, then another around the outskirts of the West District.
Class Holders Guild. Auction House. Mercenary tavern. Materials Market. Bulletin board. Missing person notices. Night patrol missions. Iron Wolf Mercenary Group. Grey Wolf Mercenary Group. And the place the old mercenary had mentioned—the Abandoned Clock Tower.
He marked one location after another. Soon, more than a dozen different symbols appeared on the map.
Matthew narrowed his eyes and observed carefully. He suddenly noticed that most of the anomalies were concentrated in the western part of the Royal Capital, particularly around the Theater District. It was as if that area was the center of everything.
Matthew didn't get excited. Instead, he lightly tapped the table with his pen. “It’s too obvious...”
If these matters were truly related to wizards, then the Theater District might not be the actual target. Any hidden organization would avoid placing its core where rumors were most rampant. Truly important places were often the quietest and most inconspicuous.
With that thought, Matthew drew a question mark on the other side of the map. It wasn't far from the Theater District, yet there was almost no news coming from there. Sometimes, a lack of news was news in itself.
Just then, a soft knock came from the door. “Brother Matthew,” Aidan called out.
“Come in.” The door opened, and Aidan walked in carrying two trays of dinner. “The kitchen just finished preparing this, so I brought it up for you.”
Matthew nodded. “Sit down, let’s eat together.”
When Aidan hesitated, Matthew smiled and repeated himself. “Sit.” Only then did Aidan sit down somewhat stiffly.
As they ate, they casually discussed what they had seen that day. Most of the time, Aidan did the talking. He spoke about how the people in the Royal Capital were wealthier and more polite than those in the County Seat, how the streets were clean, the security was good, and there were very few beggars.
Matthew listened quietly until Aidan finished. Then, he suddenly asked, “Aidan, do you think the Royal Capital is safe?”
Aidan blinked, then nodded without hesitation. “Of course it’s safe. This is the Royal Capital. There’s the King, the knight orders, the City Guard, and so many Class holders. It’s much safer than the County Seat.”
Matthew smiled. He didn't argue because, for the vast majority of ordinary people, Aidan was right. The Royal Capital was indeed very safe. But for those who had truly begun to touch the extraordinary, this might be the most dangerous place in the entire kingdom.
Matthew slowly set down his utensils and looked out the window at the brilliant lights. His gaze grew deeper. The Royal Capital was far more fascinating and dangerous than he had imagined. And the story that truly belonged to him was only just beginning.
The next day, as dawn broke, the Royal Capital woke up once more. The crisp, melodious tolling of bells drifted from the distant clock tower, echoing over the city.
In the inn’s hall, many travelers were already eating. Caravans prepared to set off, mercenaries checked their equipment, and merchants verified their manifests. Everyone began the busy routine of a new day.
Matthew, however, was in no hurry to leave. The clues he had organized last night made him certain of one thing: investigating an organization hidden this deeply could not be rushed. What truly needed to be rushed was his strength.
After breakfast, Matthew went alone to the inn’s backyard. It wasn't large, but it had a clearing reserved for guests to exercise. Several Class holders were already there for their morning training. Some were practicing with swords, some with shields, and others were simply working out. Matthew didn't disturb them, finding a corner to slowly draw his ordinary longsword.
It wasn't the Blood-Veined Rapier, but the blue longsword that had been with him from the beginning. Today, he intended to conduct an experiment to see just how great the gap between the two swords truly was.
He thrust the sword forward in a slow, standard motion. Then came a horizontal slash, a downward strike, a turn, and a retraction. Every movement was practiced and fluid.
Ten minutes later, Matthew slowly stopped, his brow furrowing slightly. As expected, it was different. He could still perform all the movements without the Blood-Veined Rapier, but that seamless, effortless sensation was gone.
Details that he could previously perform subconsciously now required conscious thought: the power delivery, the angle, the footwork. Though the differences were subtle, in a real battle, such a gap could determine victory or defeat.
Matthew sheathed the ordinary longsword and brought out the black long case. He gripped the Blood-Veined Rapier once more. It felt cool and familiar, no longer as eerie as the first time he had held it.
Matthew slowly closed his eyes, then swung the sword again. From the very first strike, the feeling was completely different. It was as if the sword wasn't a tool in his hand, but an extension of his own body. Every swing was incredibly smooth.
His footwork, breathing, body, and the blade's edge were all perfectly coordinated. The changes he had seen on his panel yesterday were now being demonstrated to their fullest extent.
Matthew didn't practice for long, stopping after only fifteen minutes. He immediately checked his mental state. There was no irritability, no bloodthirst, and none of the growing urge to keep swinging that he had felt yesterday.
He nodded in satisfaction. It seemed his guess was correct. Short-term use had minimal impact; the real danger lay in long-term immersion. As long as he controlled the duration, this sword could serve as his trump card.
Matthew returned the Blood-Veined Rapier to its case and placed it back in his storage ring without hesitation. No matter how good something was, one couldn't be greedy. This had always been one of his greatest strengths.
Aidan walked over quickly. “Morning, Brother Matthew.”
Matthew nodded. “Are you ready?”
“Where are we going today?” Aidan asked with a smile.
Matthew didn't answer immediately. He looked toward the bustling city in the distance. “Today, we aren't going out to wander.”
“Huh?” Aidan was taken aback.
Matthew turned around, his expression growing more serious. “Yesterday, we got a general overview of the Royal Capital. Now, it’s time to start our real work.”
Aidan’s expression also turned solemn. “Just give the word.”
Matthew went back to the room and spread out the map he had marked last night. He placed his finger on the Theater District. “Yesterday, we heard many rumors about the Theater District—night patrols, disappearances, lockdowns. These are all just surface-level signs.”
His finger moved across the map. “I want you to start gathering information. But remember, do not mention wizards, and definitely do not ask about vampires. You are just an ordinary Knight. Asking about those things will only draw unwanted attention.”
Aidan nodded earnestly. “Then what should I ask about?”
“Ask about urban legends,” Matthew said calmly. “Ask about anomalies. Where people often die or go missing. Which places no one dares to visit at night. Which areas are frequently locked down. Where people move away for no reason, or where strange sounds are always heard. Look for the urban legends being passed around.”
Matthew paused, his gaze deep. “Also... find out which nobles are the most mysterious, which merchant groups never open to the public, and which places ordinary Class holders are unwilling to approach. That is what I need.”
The more Aidan listened, the more he understood. He finally knew how to conduct this investigation. He wasn't looking for someone who didn't exist on the surface, but rather for abnormal phenomena.
Matthew looked at the map, a slight smile playing on his lips. Wizards could hide, but they couldn't avoid leaving traces forever. A secret could be kept for a day or a year, but not for a lifetime. And if there was one thing he didn't lack, it was patience.
Matthew rolled up the map and returned it to his storage ring. The room fell silent for a moment. Aidan committed everything he had been told to memory, afraid of missing a single word. After a moment, he nodded seriously.
“Brother Matthew, I understand. I won't ask about wizards directly. I’ll look for those strange occurrences first.”
Matthew nodded in satisfaction. Aidan’s greatest strength was his receptiveness. Though he lacked experience, he wasn't slow. He could grasp things with just a little guidance. Such a person was far easier to train than those who thought they were cleverer than they were.
“One more thing,” Matthew added.
“Yes?” Aidan looked up.
“If someone starts talking to you about these things on their own, don't press them for more. Let them talk. Listen to as much as they are willing to say. Once they’re finished, change the subject. You must never appear too interested.”
Aidan blinked. “Why?”
Matthew chuckled. “Because those who truly hide secrets are always observing others. The more you want to know, the less they will tell you. But if you seem indifferent, they might reveal more just to show off or prove how much they know.”
Aidan had a sudden realization. “I see...”
“Also,” Matthew continued, “stick to taverns, teahouses, places where coachmen rest, the docks, and even barbershops. Information spreads fastest in those places. Especially among the old residents. They might not know the truth, but they know which places to avoid.”
Aidan nodded to each point. “When should I come back to report?”
“Every evening,” Matthew decided. “When you return, tell me everything you heard, regardless of whether it’s true or false. Don't leave out a single word, even if it’s just a sentence from a drunkard’s sleep-talking.”
Though Aidan didn't fully understand why, he nodded solemnly. “Understood.”
With everything arranged, Matthew leaned back in his chair, feeling a bit more at ease. His information network was finally beginning to take shape. Though Aidan was only one person, it was enough. Every massive intelligence report started with a single, inconspicuous piece of news.
Just then, a commotion broke out downstairs. A loud, frantic voice shouted, “Get out of the way! Move! A physician! Get a physician, quickly!”
Aidan stood up almost instinctively. “Did something happen?”
Matthew walked to the window and looked down. At the inn’s entrance, several mercenaries were rushing in, carrying a man covered in blood. Thick bandages were wrapped around the man's chest, but blood continued to seep through. He was as pale as a ghost.
The inn manager hurried to meet them. “What happened?”
“Did you run into a magical beast on the road?” the manager asked as one of the mercenaries panted heavily.
The mercenary shook his head. “No... I don't know. We took an escort mission last night. In the middle of the night, he just... suddenly became like this.”
The manager frowned. “What do you mean, ‘suddenly’?”
The mercenary opened his mouth as if to say something, but ultimately just shook his head. “I don't know... I really don't know... He just suddenly collapsed. By the time we got to him, he was already like this.”
The other mercenaries looked equally shaken, and one of them clearly had terror in his eyes.
Matthew stood upstairs, quietly watching the scene. He keenly noticed a single detail: the weapons of those men.
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