Forsaken Starfall

Nighttime. DARK TOWN

The small room felt cold and stuffy. Its rough stone walls were always damp, and the faint smell of moss and sewer water permeated the air. The only light source was a small oil lantern on a rickety wooden table. Its flickering light was just enough to illuminate Fyar and his reflection in a basin of murky water.

Fyar sat on a wooden stool, his upper body bare. Several new, clean bandages wrapped the wounds on his shoulder and arms, remnants of the hunt in the alley. He was stirring a thick black liquid in a small ceramic bowl with a brush. The sharp chemical smell of the liquid stung his nose.

He began to apply the liquid to his purple hair, strand by strand, with a calm, methodical motion.

I already anticipated this scenario, Fyar thought as he continued to apply the dye, the brush feeling cold on his scalp. Luckily, I stayed up to prepare dozens of backup plans. Sometimes, ah... being paranoid is good.

Although I had to spend 200 gold coins just to hide in this shit hole.

I suspect it was Martis. He hired Whitening to frame me.

Last Wednesday, his man said he was interested in me. Now he wants to kill me. huh He must have checked my background and found an inconsistency.

Fyar paused, staring at the damp wall. Well, I admit there was a hole in my plan. A purple-haired guard disappearing on the same day a purple-haired fighter appears. He must have connected the dots.

If it is Martis, then it's extremely dangerous to go to Zaefal now.

After his entire head of hair was coated in the black liquid, he waited several minutes in the cold silence. The rhythmic sound of dripping water from the tunnel ceiling outside was the only sound in the room. He then took clean water from a bucket in the corner and began to rinse his hair over the basin. The water in the basin quickly turned a murky, dark purple.

He picked up a small, cracked mirror and looked at his reflection. His hair was now a dull, jet black. His pale face and sharp gaze now looked completely different. He now looked like any other local from Tyelven.

Fyar gathered his "James" clothes the fighter's outfit he had worn in the arena and stuffed them into a metal bucket. He lit them with a match and let the flames die down slowly, leaving behind ash and the smell of burnt cloth.

He then put on a new set of clothes provided by the Sewer Rat Network: a coarse brown cotton tunic and loose-fitting trousers. He looked like an ordinary commoner now.

"Your message has been sent," a hoarse voice whispered from behind the barred door of his hiding cell. "The price has been paid."

Fyar nodded toward the darkness beyond the bars. "I need one more service. A safe way out of this city."

"That will cost the rest of your gold," the voice replied without pause.

I know, damn it. This alone was 200 gold coins, Fyar bit his lip. "Just do it."

"We will provide the route tomorrow morning." A soft shuffling sound was heard, then the presence disappeared.

Fyar was alone again.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a cigarette and a match. He lit the cigarette. Its tip glowed red, illuminating his face for a moment. He took a slow drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs before exhaling it into the damp air.

"I wonder what Illya is doing..." he muttered softly.

At the same time. Martis's private office in Stone Town.

Martis stood in front of his large, ceiling-high window, staring at the flickering lights of the ships in the night harbor. Nila stood silently near the wall, almost invisible in the shadows.

The office door opened. Wilas entered hurriedly. His normally neat white clothes were now slightly stained with something dark on the sleeve.

"boss!," Wilas reported, his voice tense. "As planned, Starfall is now being hunted in Dark Town. However, there is one thing..."

Martis did not turn. He just continued to stare out the window. "Explain."

"Starfall was framed at Kail's headquarters, as planned. But he..." Wilas hesitated for a moment. "He killed a lot of adventurers."

Martis was silent. His fingers, which were clasped behind his back, tightened slightly.

Wilas continued, "He didn't stop. The Wild Dogs gang tried to ambush him in the market. He slaughtered them too. The latest reports say at least thirty people are dead in Dark Town tonight. All of them killed by one man."

"And now?" Martis asked quietly.

"He's vanished," Wilas answered. "Completely disappeared. All of Dark Town is now paralyzed with fear. No one dares to look for him anymore. Now we can only hope for the high-level adventurers who are there."

Martis finally turned. His expression was cold. He walked to his large desk and sat down in his chair.

He looked at Wilas. "Someone has already reported to the guards, correct?"

Wilas nodded. "Yes. The Tyvlen city government is now dispatching guards to Dark Town."

Martis smiled slightly, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Send some of our men to join the hunt. We have a legal reason to kill him now."

"Actually, there is one more thing, Boss," Wilas said.

Martis raised an eyebrow slightly. "Say it."

"There was a massacre at a bar. Twenty people killed. The culprit is currently unknown," Wilas continued his report.

Martis didn't answer. He tapped his finger on the polished wooden desk. His mind was working quickly. "Do you think it was Starfall?"

Wilas shook his head. "I don't know. But it's possible."

Martis tapped his desk harder. "This is bad. If the situation gets too chaotic, the Guardians might come to Dark Town." Martis looked at Wilas. "Pay the governor to ensure this news doesn't leak to the Kingdom."

Wilas nodded.

He then looked at Nila, who was still silent in the corner. "Nila. Contact the Whitening Organization."

Nila was slightly surprised, her posture shifting. "You want to hire them again? Martis, I don't think this is a good idea just to target one man."

"Give them a new contract." Martis ignored her advice. "Capture Starfall, Whatever the price. I want to give Veyra a surprise."

Nila wanted to say something, but the words caught in her throat as she met Martis's cold gaze. She just nodded gently.

"It will be done."