The black fox

"I saw you earlier," I said, my voice polite, even though my curiosity was far from casual. "Could you tell me more about that 'black fox'?"

The old man visibly shivered, his eyes narrowing. "Since when have you been following me?"

"A while," I replied, my tone casual.

He sighed deeply, "I won't ask why you want to know about him..."

There was a pause before the old man continued, clearly reluctant to spill the details. "He's the gang leader here... a ruthless person. He takes from every shop in the city, whether it's high or low—calls it 'protection money.' The odd part is, since that lad took control, the crime rate's all but disappeared. No one dares commit a crime under his watch. The outlaws either joined him or... well, they were never heard from again."

"Outlaws, you say..." I couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. "How did Count Verkas allow such a thing to happen?"

In this world, letting crime fester in your lands was a surefire way to lose favor—or worse, your head. Lords who couldn't maintain order often faced dire consequences, and their land was quickly handed over to someone more capable. Yet, this so-called 'Black Fox' was apparently operating freely.

The old man sighed again, sounding even more tired than before. "That Black Fox lad is clever. As I said, the crime rate's nearly vanished under his control. He doesn't take too much from the people—5%, maybe a little more—but never enough to ruin businesses, big or small. In fact, many folks around here... well, they like him."

I frowned. 'Something doesn't seems right about this.'

"Is that so?" I mused aloud, letting my words hang in the air as I studied the old man's reaction. His shoulders sagged, as if the weight of what he had to say next was too much to bear.

"You seemed to know those men from earlier," I prodded, hoping to peel back another layer.

The old man's expression darkened, sadness and anger flashing across his face. "Those kids... they were my disciples."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Your disciples?"

He nodded, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. "They were training to be knights, those lads. But something changed. I don't know what magic that Black Fox used on them, but they became his hunting dogs instead."

The old man clenched his fists, his frustration palpable. "They threw away everything—their training, their honor—for him."

'oh?'

I remained silent for a moment, then asked another quistion.

"So why did you refuse to pay them if the cut was so low?" I asked, pressing further. "You said it was only 5%. Surely, it wouldn't affect you that much?"

The old man took a deep breath, as if trying to steady himself before answering. "Do you think they were really asking me for money? That's what you think this is about?" He let out a bitter laugh. "Yes, they asked me for a measly 10 bronze coins, but that's not what they were after. No. They wanted me to show them I was willing to accept the Black Fox's system. To bend my knee to that... that filth."

I could see it now—his refusal wasn't about the money at all. It was about pride. It was about proving to himself and his wayward students that he wasn't going to condone their choices.

"How could I show them that they were right?" he asked, his voice raw with emotion. "How could I, their teacher, the man who trained them to be knights, accept that their path was the correct one? If I paid them, even just those ten coins, it would be the same as admitting they were right to follow that Black Fox."

'Foolish' I thought to myself, but at the same time, I couldn't help but respect the old man's resolve. He was clinging to his principles, even if it meant standing alone against his own students.

I watched the old man, gauging his resolve before speaking again. "Where can I find this Black Fox?" I asked, my tone casual, as if I were asking for directions to the nearest tavern.

The old man shook his head, but eventually relented. " His headquarters is in the mid-south part of the city. A large, fancy building. You can't miss it. As long as you see plenty of armed men around, then you've found the right place."

I nodded, mentally marking the location. "Thanks."

Now lets go pay this guy a visit

*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*

I walked through the city toward the location the old man had described, casually weaving through the streets. 'I considered killing him,' I thought, almost bored by the idea, 'but honestly, he doesn't seem like the type to cause trouble. No need to waste energy on someone that won't leak anything.'

Sneaking between the buildings, I moved swiftly, jumping over ledges and rooftops as I neared the mid-south area. It didn't take long before I reached the crowded part of the city, full of rough-looking men, each carrying some sort of weapon. They weren't well-trained, though. That much was obvious. Most of them had a lazy stance, their eyes scanning the street without much real focus.

But that wasn't what grabbed my attention. To the left, dominating the street, was a massive building—a sprawling structure that towered over the others. Two wings jutted out from the sides, and the central part boasted three floors, complete with a wooden balcony. The rest of the buildings in this city didn't even come close to that kind of height.

'This has to be the place,' I thought, my eyes locking onto the wooden sign hanging above the door. A skull of a fox, painted black, stared back at me.

There were guards everywhere, at least twenty of them, standing watch. Most of them looked about as competent as the other thugs outside—sloppy and untrained. But what caught my attention were the archers stationed on the nearby rooftops, scanning the streets. 'Great. Archers too. Not just something I can waltz into.' I could easily cut through them all if I wanted, but that would cause more noise than I needed right now.

So, I waited. Watched. 'Let's see... guard shifts. They're not the sharpest tools in the shed.' It didn't take long before I spotted a gap in their routine. A blind spot, just big enough for me to slip through unnoticed. 'Perfect.'

I quickly jumped up to a nearby window and slid inside, landing silently on the wooden floor. Just as I was about to move further into the building, I heard footsteps approaching.

I darted behind a large closet, pressing myself into the shadows as the footsteps grew louder. The person walked past without noticing anything, their heavy boots clomping down the hallway.

Once the coast was clear, I began sneaking through the building, careful to avoid any more patrols. The place was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting long shadows on the walls. The floor creaked beneath my weight, but I moved lightly, minimizing the noise.

I turned a corner and found myself in a hallway with several doors, i paused for a moment, listening for any signs of movement behind the doors. One of them, at the far end, caught my attention. It was more ornate than the others, with a fancier design, and the faint sound of muffled voices could be heard from within.

'That's the one' I thought, moving silently toward it.

I crouched by the door, listening carefully. The voices were too faint to make out clearly, but it was obvious that whoever was inside was having a serious conversation.