V2.C14. The Great City Daiyo

Chapter 14: The Great City of Daiyo

The afternoon sun, still heavy with the warmth of the late season, lingered in the sky, casting a muted gold over the sprawling landscape. A soft breeze teased the fading leaves from the trees, their brilliant hues of red and orange swirling in the wind. The quiet hum of nature was only punctuated by the soft, rhythmic steps of two travelers trekking along a dirt road. The air was cooler than it had been at midday, but the warmth of the sun still clung to the earth, mingling with the smell of autumn.

Yogan, a 19-year-old airbender, marched along with purpose, his orange and yellow robes fluttering around him with each step. His black hair, which he kept loose and flowing down his back, swayed in the breeze, though his face bore a light scowl. His eyes flickered with annoyance, but not at the journey itself; no, that was something he had learned to appreciate on a deeper level. Rather, his frustration was directed inward, at the small fire they had made earlier to cook their meal.

Beside him walked Rilo, a 25-year-old waterbender from one of the southern tribes. His long, dark red hair was tied loosely in a knot at the nape of his neck, the loose strands blowing with the wind. His face was marked with the fatigue of a long day's travel, but beneath the exhaustion, a certain sharpness in his eyes hinted at something far more calculating. He, too, was wearing long robes, but unlike Yogan, his attire was entirely black—sleek, practical, and functional for his bender nature.

"You know," Rilo began, his voice carrying a tone of exasperation, "if you'd just let me handle the fire, we could've had something that wasn't as charred as a firewood pile."

Yogan shot him a sidelong glance, the corner of his mouth twitching in an attempt to suppress a smile. "You know, Rilo, the fire may be to blame, but your cooking certainly wasn't helping matters." His voice was light, teasing, yet laced with a small measure of criticism. "What exactly was that? A sad, tasteless mess of vegetables?"

Rilo's eyes narrowed, his brow furrowing beneath his wild red hair. "I thought I put in the salt. Maybe you didn't notice because your taste buds are as sensitive as a brick wall."

Yogan snorted in amusement. "Maybe it's not the salt, Rilo. Maybe it's that fire you cooked it on. Couldn't even get it hot enough to char the food properly. I've seen campfires burn hotter than that." He let out a playful sigh, "Honestly, what am I supposed to do with that food? Are you sure we're not eating like this every day in your hometown?"

Rilo gave him a sardonic look, though a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You're lucky I didn't serve it raw, then. But look, the fire could've been hotter, I'll admit. But hey, at least it's food."

Yogan chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Barely. I would rather have had some of the dried fruit you always carry. At least that doesn't taste like... well, whatever that was." His expression shifted to one of curiosity. "But really, how bad is your hometown if you're telling me that's considered good food?"

Rilo shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not the food that's great in the south. It's the spirit, the culture... But the food? Let's just say there are better places. But you wouldn't know that unless you visited." He paused, considering something. "Perhaps when we get to Daiyo, you'll see what real food tastes like."

At the mention of the city, Yogan's mood shifted from playful to thoughtful. He had heard much about Daiyo, a town whispered about in stories of travelers and merchants. As they walked, the silhouettes of distant buildings began to emerge on the horizon, the city's edges rising like a mirage against the fading autumn sky.

The wind shifted slightly as the two of them climbed a small hill, and Yogan's breath caught in his chest. Before them, stretching out into the distance, lay the sprawling town of Daiyo. Its architecture was both impressive and graceful, reminiscent of designs he had seen in the ancient temples of his own people—sharp, curved roofs that rose like waves crashing into the sky, intricately carved wooden pillars, and towering structures that seemed to be built from the very earth itself.

The buildings, constructed from pale stone and dark timber, stood in neat rows, their rooftops curling upwards at the edges like dragon claws. The city sprawled before them, a testament to its age and prosperity. Yogan was astonished at the sheer size of the town—at least ten thousand people could easily call this place home. It was an intricate maze of streets, each winding its way between buildings, creating a labyrinth of culture and history. He had never seen a city of this magnitude before. His wide, observant eyes traced the contours of the city, drinking in every detail.

"Impressive, huh?" Rilo said, his voice tinged with pride.

"Impressive?" Yogan breathed, hardly able to pull his gaze from the distant horizon. "This place is massive. I thought you were exaggerating when you said it was one of the largest in the south, but this... this is incredible."

Rilo nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Daiyo is one of the southern Earth Kingdom's largest trading towns. Merchants come from all over, and people come from all walks of life. It's bustling, chaotic, and full of opportunities if you know where to look." He paused for a moment before adding, "And also, it's where we can get some decent food."

As they approached the outer gates, the sounds of the city grew louder—an eclectic symphony of clanging metal, shouting vendors, the murmur of conversation, and the rattle of horse-drawn carts. The streets were teeming with activity, and as they stepped through the main gate, Yogan was struck by the sheer diversity of the people milling about. Merchants from every corner of the Earth Kingdom peddled their goods, shouting in all manner of languages. People from different cultures—some dressed in flowing robes, others in armor or simple tunics—walked in and out of the shops and stalls, each person an individual thread in the tapestry of the city.

The air was thick with the smells of cooking meats and spiced broths, the scents of street food that made Yogan's stomach growl in hunger. The mixture of aromas—grilled meats, stews, roasted vegetables, and sizzling fish—was intoxicating, and for the first time since his arrival in the Earth Kingdom, Yogan felt an overwhelming sense of longing for something more substantial than bland vegetables. But it wasn't just the food that assaulted his senses. The smell of horse manure lingered in the air, and the unmistakable, sharp scent of urine from the nearby alleyways added to the chaos. It was a smell, Yogan realized, that would take some time to get used to.

Rilo, noticing his grimace, chuckled. "The smell's not all that impressive, huh?" He tilted his head to the side, "You get used to it after a while."

Yogan wrinkled his nose. "I'll take your word for it. But I don't think I'll be getting used to the smell of that anytime soon." He turned his attention back to the streets, his gaze lingering on the large market vendors. His eyes widened as he saw the sheer amount of meat being sold—roasts hanging on spitted rods, large cuts of beef, lamb, and pork sizzling over open flames. There were whole pigs roasting on rotating spits, the crackling sounds of fat dripping into the fire creating an almost hypnotic rhythm. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before.

He couldn't help himself. "Is this... normal? There's so much meat everywhere. I've never seen this much in my life."

Rilo grinned mischievously. "Please don't tell me you're one of those monks who don't eat meat?"

Yogan laughed, though there was a tinge of embarrassment in his tone. "Well, many in the temple are taught that life is precious. They try to avoid eating meat. But... I grew up outside the temple, Rilo. I'm used to eating meat. It's just that the temple—well, the people there—have their ways." His gaze lingered on the sizzling meats. "Now that I see it all... I realize how much I miss it."

Rilo raised an eyebrow, sensing the hunger in Yogan's voice. "In that case, let's find a place to sit down, yeah? You're looking at this like you haven't eaten in days."

Yogan didn't hesitate. "Please. Let's do it."

The two of them made their way to a small outdoor stall, the scent of meat and spices wafting through the air like a siren's call. They found a spot at one of the open tables, and after a brief exchange with the vendor, they ordered a large portion of meat—spiced and roasted to perfection.

The meat arrived on a large wooden platter, sizzling and fragrant. Yogan's mouth watered, the smell nearly making him drool. He could hardly wait. The first bite was everything he had been longing for—the meat was tender, juicy, and perfectly seasoned, each bite a revelation. He tore into the food, savoring each mouthful like a man starved.

Beside him, Rilo ate with equal enthusiasm, though his movements were more measured. Between bites, he looked up at Yogan and laughed. "Seems like you were really hungry."

Yogan looked up, his face flushed with the pleasure of the meal. "You have no idea. This is incredible. I think I could eat this every day."

The two sat there for some time, eating and enjoying the simple pleasure of good food, the noise of the bustling city around them blending into the background as they reveled in the taste of meat—the taste of freedom.

And thus, the Gambler's Daiyo City revealed itself to be more than just a place. It was a world in itself—a world full of wonders, contradictions, and temptations. And for Yogan and Rilo, it was a world they would soon come to understand, for better or worse.

Yogan and Rilo continued to devour their meal in silence for a few moments, the sizzling meat filling their senses and grounding them in the moment. The air was thick with the aroma of roasted meats and spice, mingling with the distinct scents of the bustling street market around them. Yogan let out a satisfied sigh, wiping the grease from his fingers onto his pants, feeling his hunger slowly recede.

Rilo, though equally absorbed in the feast, finally leaned back, his face alight with the satisfaction of good food and an ever-present smirk. "You know," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, "food isn't the only reason Daiyo's so popular."

Yogan raised an eyebrow, still savoring the lingering taste of the meat. "For me, the food's enough. You can keep your fancy reasons. This city already won me over."

Rilo chuckled, shaking his head as he paid the vendor and gathered the small pouch of coins. "Well, you're not wrong, but food is just the start. Money's another big reason people flock here. You need money to buy food, after all." He glanced over at Yogan with a teasing glint in his eyes. "I assume you monks don't have to worry about that? You just eat for free, right?"

Yogan grinned, finishing off his last piece of meat with a contented sigh. "Back in Bintan, we don't exactly eat for free. We have to buy other things, so I've learned about money. But I guess it's different here in Daiyo." His voice dropped a little, thoughtful as he glanced around, taking in the sprawling market with its vibrant, pulsing energy.

Rilo's smile widened. "Well, that's because Daiyo's on a whole different level. I've heard of Bintan, right? But Daiyo? It's something else entirely." He nudged Yogan, motioning to the large city gates, framed by towering walls and guarded posts. "Come on, stand up. Let me show you."

Without needing much encouragement, Yogan stood, still chewing the last remnants of his meal, as Rilo led the way. He wasn't sure if it was the meat or Rilo's insistence, but his curiosity about the city was piqued.

As Rilo bought one last order of meat to go, Yogan followed him, his attention still divided between the sheer decadence of the food and the allure of what lay ahead. The streets grew more crowded, the noise more pronounced as they neared the center of the city. The closer they got, the more the sights and smells blended together—meats being skewered, roasting on open flames, the chatter of hundreds of voices, the clang of metal from blacksmiths, and the faint scent of something more unpleasant lingering in the air.

Rilo chewed his meat with enthusiasm, giving Yogan a sideways glance as they walked. "The reason the southern kingdoms don't bother attacking Daiyo," he said between bites, "is simple. Money. No one's stupid enough to attack a city that thrives off wealth like this. During the time of the Great Lion Turtles, Daiyo was even declared neutral territory. Now, no kingdoms might lay claim to it and its surrounding land, but they won't attack unless they want a war with every other kingdom within a hundred miles."

Yogan nodded slowly, looking out at the city as he considered Rilo's words. It made sense, in a way. A place so important, so bustling with trade and commerce, would be a target for greed. But the sheer size of the city—its expansive layout, its towering structures, the constant flow of people—made it impossible to imagine anyone willing to risk all-out war for it. It was a place that had its own kind of power, an unspoken force that kept it safe.

"So where does all this money come from?" Yogan asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

Rilo grinned, his eyes gleaming with a mischievous light. "Follow me."

The two of them walked towards a grand, guarded building at the heart of the city—a sprawling structure that loomed over them like a fortress, its doors wide open. The guards outside were dressed in the green and brown of the Earth Kingdom, their faces stoic as they kept watch over the constant flow of people.

Rilo pushed open the heavy wooden doors with ease, the creaking sound reverberating through the air. He turned to Yogan and spoke, his voice low. "Gambling."

Inside, the atmosphere hit Yogan like a wave. It was loud, chaotic, and alive. The building was cavernous, with high ceilings that seemed to stretch impossibly upward. Light from hanging lanterns cast a warm, flickering glow over the enormous hall, illuminating long rows of tables. The air was thick with the rustle of cards and the rhythmic clacking of wooden sticks as players at the tables tested their luck.

Yogan's eyes were wide as he took in the scene before him. There were people at every table—some dressed in finery, others in rougher clothing—but all focused on the games in front of them. The clatter of dice, the shuffle of cards, and the hushed murmurs of bets being placed filled the room with an intoxicating energy. It was as if the entire place thrummed with life, with anticipation, with the possibility of fortune or failure hanging in the air.

Guards stood at every corner, keeping an eye on the crowd, their presence a subtle reminder that this place was not just a haven for chance—it was a place of great risk, and the stakes were high. The patrons weren't just here for fun; they were here to win, to lose, to gamble with everything they had.

"Welcome to your first casino, Yogan," Rilo said, his tone laced with a kind of amused pride.

Yogan stood frozen in awe. The grandeur of the casino, the sheer scale of it, the energy that radiated from the hundreds of people inside—it was overwhelming. His gaze swept over the tables, taking in the varying games: cards, dice, roulette-like wheels, all being played with intensity, with eyes fixed on the prize. It was unlike anything he'd ever seen.

As he finished the last piece of his meat, the savory satisfaction still lingering on his tongue, Yogan took a deep breath, feeling both amazed and a little dizzy from the spectacle. He marveled at the opulence of the place—its gold-trimmed furniture, the brightly colored banners hanging from the walls, the flicker of lights casting long shadows over the games below. Everything in this place seemed larger than life. There were dozens of people everywhere, clustered in groups around tables, eagerly watching the action unfold.

He noticed guards in the green and brown uniforms of the Earth Kingdom, standing at regular intervals, their stern faces carefully observing the crowd, their eyes never wavering from their posts. The guards, too, were part of the scene, lending an air of authority to the chaos that surrounded them.

"This city is built on luck, on risk," Rilo continued, his voice a soft whisper now as he led Yogan deeper into the building. "But it's not just the money that makes Daiyo powerful. It's the wealth of information, the trades, the dealings. This place doesn't just attract gamblers—it attracts every kind of merchant, every kind of person who's looking to get ahead."

Yogan shook his head, still taking it all in, his mind racing. He had no idea that such a world existed. This place was a testament to the magnitude of human desire—the drive for fortune, for power, for something greater than themselves. It was intoxicating.

"Let's find a place to sit," Rilo said, taking a seat at one of the tables, a playful grin crossing his face. "This is just the beginning, my friend."

The energy of the casino was intoxicating, its vibrant atmosphere pulsating through the air like an unseen rhythm. Yogan and Rilo found themselves a quieter corner at a low, lacquered table, where a server had just placed a small bottle of sake between them, along with two ceramic cups.

Yogan eyed the drink skeptically. He'd had alcohol before, but never much, and certainly not in a place like this. The atmosphere seemed to demand it, though, and when Rilo poured him a cup, he decided not to hesitate. The first sip burned slightly, but the warmth quickly settled in his stomach, the taste surprisingly pleasant.

"This stuff sneaks up on you," Rilo warned with a smirk as he sipped his own. "Go easy."

Yogan gave him a look. "I can handle it."

Rilo snorted. "That's what they all say."

As they drank, the casino around them continued its endless cycle of laughter, shouts, and the clinking of coins. A particularly high-stakes game was happening not far from their table, where a crowd of well-dressed gamblers gathered around an ornate table covered in golden embroidery. Every few moments, bursts of cheers or groans erupted from the group, adding to the energy of the place.

A soft voice interrupted their conversation. "More drinks, gentlemen?"

Both turned to see a striking young woman standing beside their table, a tray in hand. She wore a deep red and gold dress that hugged her form, her dark hair pinned up elegantly with golden pins. Her eyes, sharp yet playful, lingered on Yogan just a little too long.

Rilo immediately grinned. "Absolutely. Another bottle."

Yogan, feeling the slight heat of the sake already, simply nodded, unsure how to respond to the way the waitress's eyes lingered on him. She smiled, almost knowingly, before gracefully walking away.

Rilo chuckled and leaned in. "She's interested in you."

Yogan scoffed. "You're imagining things."

"Oh, come on. I saw the way she looked at you. She was practically undressing you with her eyes."

Yogan took another sip of sake, shaking his head. "She probably looks at every customer that way. It's part of the job."

Rilo gave him a knowing smirk but said nothing as the waitress returned, placing a fresh bottle on the table. As she leaned in to pour, her fingers briefly brushed against Yogan's. Her eyes flicked up, catching his gaze, before she smirked slightly and walked off again.

Rilo laughed outright this time. "Yeah, sure, she does that with everyone."

Yogan exhaled through his nose, deciding not to give Rilo the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he poured himself another cup, the sake going down much smoother now.

As the night went on, their conversation flowed easily, drifting from the grandeur of the casino to tales of other cities and kingdoms. Yogan found himself more and more relaxed, the warmth of the sake softening the rigid discipline he usually carried.

At some point, two young men stumbled over to their table, both grinning wildly, their cheeks flushed with alcohol. One had a musical instrument slung over his shoulder, a kind of stringed lute, while the other had a stack of coins in his hand.

"Mind if we join you?" the musician asked, already sitting before they could answer.

Rilo grinned and waved them in. "Why not? The more, the merrier."

The musician plucked a few notes, humming as he tuned the strings. His friend, meanwhile, started stacking his coins into small towers, seemingly engrossed in the simple act.

"What brings you two to Daiyo?" Yogan asked, genuinely curious.

The musician shrugged. "Same as everyone else. Luck, money, adventure." He strummed the strings lightly. "And maybe a bit of romance, if the spirits are kind."

His friend grinned. "If you're looking for romance, you should follow our friend here." He nodded toward Yogan. "That waitress was practically ready to throw herself at him."

Yogan sighed as Rilo burst out laughing. "Not this again."

The musician smirked. "You mean you didn't notice?"

Yogan shook his head. "You're all reading too much into it."

The musician started playing a lively tune, while his friend began clapping along. Before long, they were singing—some old drinking song about sailors, lost love, and misadventures at sea. Rilo and Yogan found themselves joining in, laughing through the lyrics they didn't fully know.

The sake continued to flow, and by the time Rilo stood up, his movements were a little too smooth, a little too confident. "Alright, I think it's time I tested my luck." He tossed a few coins onto the table. "You two, keep him company."

The musician gave a lazy salute. "Oh, don't worry. We'll take good care of him."

Yogan watched as Rilo sauntered off toward the gambling tables, leaving him with his two new acquaintances. They continued drinking and talking, the conversation moving from gambling to travel to women.

Eventually, the friend who wasn't playing the lute leaned in with a smirk. "So, are you going to her room or what?"

Yogan blinked. "What?"

The musician chuckled. "The waitress. She's been eyeing you all night. It's painfully obvious."

Yogan scoffed. "You two really don't let things go, do you?"

The friend grinned. "Listen, friend. This is Daiyo. A city of pleasure, wealth, and indulgence. You've been drinking, you're in a good mood, and there's a very attractive woman who seems interested in you. What exactly is stopping you?"

Yogan hesitated. It wasn't that he was oblivious—he had noticed, of course. But the idea of just… going to her room felt like an entirely different thing. He wasn't used to this kind of attention.

The musician smirked. "You're overthinking it. Let's make it simple—do you find her attractive?"

Yogan sighed. "Obviously."

"Do you think she finds you attractive?"

"I don't—"

"Oh, come on. Even you have to admit she's been throwing you signals all night."

Yogan rubbed his face, feeling the effects of the sake clouding his usual sharpness. "And what, I just… go?"

The friend laughed. "It's not a war campaign, my guy. Just stand up, walk over, and see where the night takes you."

Yogan shook his head, laughing despite himself. The idea still felt ridiculous, but at the same time… there was a thrill to it. He wasn't a monk anymore, and Daiyo was a city of new experiences.

He glanced toward where the waitress had disappeared, exhaling slowly. Maybe… just this once.

The musician clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Now go. And if you don't come back, we'll assume things went well."

Yogan rolled his eyes but stood, feeling the slightest unsteadiness from the alcohol.

"Alright," he muttered. "Let's see where this goes."

And with that, he made his way toward the back of the casino, where the waitress had disappeared.

The warmth of sake coursed through Yogan's veins, dulling his normally sharp awareness. The musician and his friend's laughter faded behind him as he made his way through the casino's back halls, weaving through servers, patrons, and guards.

His feet, which normally moved with the precision of a trained warrior, felt uncooperative. He stumbled slightly but caught himself, straightening up as if nothing had happened. Alright, he told himself, just act natural. You got this.

He spotted her standing near a doorway, speaking with another waitress. The golden pins in her hair gleamed under the warm lights, her dress flowing around her like a perfectly sculpted wave. Yogan took a deep breath and strode toward her—though "strode" was a generous term. It was more of a confident stagger.

As he approached, she turned, her lips curling into an amused smile as she met his gaze. "You're still standing," she mused, tilting her head.

"Pfft." Yogan waved a dismissive hand, nearly hitting a passing waiter. "O' course I am. It takes… takes more than a little sake to—uh—sweep me off my feet."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Because it looks like you're already swaying."

Yogan immediately planted his feet, standing as rigidly as possible. "Nope. Perfectly balanced. Like—like a boulder on a mountain."

She chuckled, crossing her arms. "Is that so?"

He nodded solemnly. "Absolutely. And, uh, speaking of mountains… have you ever seen one from really high up?"

She blinked. "I… suppose?"

Yogan grinned, leaning against the wall with the confidence of a man who thought he looked cool but was actually just off-balance. "You should. They're… amazing. Like, picture a giant rock, but, like, way up in the sky."

She laughed, shaking her head. "That's… that's just a mountain."

"That's what I said," he replied proudly. "But it's different when you're on it."

She studied him for a moment, her amusement growing. "You're not very good at flirting, are you?"

Yogan's eyes widened. "What? I—I am an expert flirt, actually." He gestured dramatically and almost toppled over.

She caught his arm just before he lost balance, her fingers pressing lightly against his forearm. "Uh-huh," she said, steadying him. "So this is you at your most charming?"

"Oh, absolutely," he said, grinning despite himself. "I am… smooth as silk. Like the finest Daiyo fabric."

She smirked. "If that's true, then why does it look like you're one wrong step away from face-planting onto the floor?"

Yogan straightened up again, clearing his throat. "That's just part of my strategy. Keeps things… interesting."

She laughed again, her eyes bright with amusement. "Alright, smooth talker. What exactly brings you back here?"

Yogan hesitated, his alcohol-clouded brain scrambling for an answer that didn't make him sound like an idiot. "Uh… well. You see. There was this whole thing with my friends, and they were saying stuff, and then I said stuff, and then they dared me—uh, I mean, I decided—to come over here, and now I'm here. So."

She chuckled. "So you came here because your friends told you to?"

"No, no, no." He waved his hands frantically. "I mean—yes. But also because I wanted to. You know. Say hi. Because you're…" He blinked, struggling to find the words. "You're really pretty."

Her smirk softened slightly. "That so?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Like, distractingly pretty. Like, I was definitely gonna win all my money back at the tables, but then you showed up, and now look at me. Financial ruin."

She laughed, shaking her head. "Well, I wouldn't say financial ruin just yet. But I appreciate the compliment."

Yogan leaned against the wall again, this time actually managing to stay balanced. "You're welcome. And, uh… what's your name?"

She studied him for a moment before answering. "Mariko."

He grinned. "Mariko. That's a beautiful name. Sounds like… like something rare. Like a… like a treasure."

"Oh?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what exactly do you know about treasures?"

Yogan puffed out his chest dramatically. "Well, I, uh… I travel a lot. Seen some pretty amazing things. But none of them had a smile quite like yours."

She tilted her head, clearly amused. "That almost sounded smooth."

"I told you I was an expert," he said, grinning.

She let out a soft laugh, then leaned in slightly. "So, tell me, traveler. What's your next move?"

Yogan's confidence wavered slightly. "My, uh… next move?"

Mariko nodded, her eyes dancing with mischief. "You came all the way back here, stumbled your way through some very questionable flirting, and now you have my attention. So what's next?"

Yogan swallowed. The alcohol had given him just enough boldness to get this far, but now that he was actually here—standing in front of a woman who was genuinely engaging with him—he realized he had no plan.

His mind raced. What would Rilo say in this situation? Or those gamblers from earlier?

He cleared his throat. "Well… I was thinking…" He hesitated, then smirked. "How about you show me something really rare? Like, the best-kept secret in this entire casino."

Mariko raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "And why would I do that?"

Yogan leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Because I bet it's something only you know about. And I'd love to see something only you could show me."

She studied him, lips pursing slightly. Then, to his surprise, she smiled. "Alright, traveler. Follow me."

Yogan's heart skipped a beat as she turned and walked toward a dimly lit corridor, glancing back once to make sure he was following.

He took a deep breath. Alright, Yogan, he thought. Try not to make a complete fool of yourself.

And with that, he followed Mariko into the unknown.

---

In a particularly dark corner of the casino, shrouded in the dim flicker of hanging lanterns, a shadowy figure watched the tables with a quiet intensity. The figure remained motionless, their presence unnoticed by the raucous crowd, their gaze locked onto the man who had just sat down at one of the card tables.

Rilo.

The figure tilted their head slightly as a smirk curled beneath their hood. "Interesting…"

They lingered a moment longer, watching as Rilo casually leaned back in his chair, tossing a few coins onto the table with the confidence of a man who had done this a thousand times before. The dealer shuffled, cards were drawn, and the game began.

The shadowy figure's smirk widened. Then, without another word, they turned and slipped away into the shadows.

Near the corner of the casino, hidden behind thick curtains, was a nearly imperceptible door. The figure pressed against it, slipping through without a sound. The second the door shut behind them, they broke into a silent sprint, their boots barely making a sound against the stone floor as they ascended a tight, spiraling staircase.

The climb was swift, the darkened steps winding endlessly until the figure finally reached a landing. In front of them stood a large red door, its lacquered surface smooth but sturdy.

The figure raised a hand and knocked.

A deep, thundering voice rumbled from within. "Come in."

The figure pressed the door open and stepped inside.

The office beyond was nothing short of extravagant. A massive mahogany desk dominated the center of the room, its surface adorned with golden trinkets, ink brushes, and stacks of neatly arranged documents. Ornate green and gold banners hung from the walls, embroidered with intricate earth kingdom insignias, though the kingdom they represented was unclear.

Candlelight flickered across the vast space, illuminating fine silk rugs and plush seating that screamed wealth. A single large window overlooked the city, its thick iron bars casting long shadows across the floor.

The figure walked forward, stopping just in front of the grand desk. They bowed slightly, their voice low and unassuming.

"Boss Shen."

A heavy silence filled the room. Then, from behind the desk, a figure stirred.

"What do you want?" The voice was deep, powerful—commanding. It was the kind of voice that did not ask questions so much as it demanded answers.

The figure straightened. "Rilo has returned to town."

The silence that followed was thick with tension.

Then—

"WHAT!?"

The very air in the room trembled as Boss Shen's voice crashed against the walls like a violent wave. The wooden desk groaned under the sheer force of his fury, and the flickering flames of the lanterns quivered as if afraid.

The figure did not flinch. "He's at the card tables as we speak," they continued. "And… he appears to be traveling with an Air Nomad."

Boss Shen was silent for a moment. Then, a dark chuckle rumbled from his throat.

"Well, well…" His voice was lower now, but no less dangerous. "Finally… we can get our revenge."

The figure remained still as the words settled into the heavy air.

Who was this Boss Shen? What vengeance did he thirst for?

One thing was certain—Yogan had arrived in Daiyo with an interesting companion. And whatever fate awaited them, their visit to the city was about to become far more eventful than either of them had planned.

[A/N: Can't wait to see what happens next? Get exclusive early access on patreon.com/saiyanprincenovels. If you enjoyed this chapter and want to see more, don't forget to drop a power stone! Your support helps this story reach more readers! Third and last is that the release schedule for the series will be once a week from next week on. I appreciate the understanding. This is change in schedule is only for the free sites and not the patreon members. I will maintain a schedule of 3 a week and sometimes even more.]