The bar of mysteries’

The moment Sis sensed danger, she gripped Shin's hand tight and yanked him into a nearby alley.

As Shin ran, he risked a glance over his shoulder—someone was chasing them.

The man wore a mask, his face swallowed by the shadows of a flowing black cloak. A dagger gleamed in his right hand, its edge catching the dim light. Though he moved swiftly, to Shin, it felt unnatural—his steps made no sound, his presence like a shadow slipping through the night.

For some reason, the masked man stopped chasing them, allowing them to slip away.

They came to a halt, panting for breath.

Huff… Huff… Where are we? Shin wondered.

The alley was shrouded in darkness, the cold wind cutting through its narrow path. The distant scurrying of rats made the place feel even more unsettling.

But at the far end, just around the corner, a bright light glowed—its source unknown.

The light unsettled Shin and his sister. A part of them wanted to turn back, but the thought of that masked man lurking in the shadows made retreating feel like suicide.

With no other choice, they stepped forward.

One step… two steps… three.

Cautiously, they rounded the corner—only to find themselves standing before something unexpected.

A bar.

A bar, hidden in the depths of this dark, narrow alleyway?

a wooden signboard hung above a narrow doorway, its bold red letters spelling out "Kikyo Nomiya". The paint was chipped in places, but the name still stood out clearly against the dark wood.

A small lantern flickered beside the entrance, casting a soft glow over the Noren curtain draped in the doorway. The fabric was slightly worn, its deep indigo color faded from years of use. 

From inside, the low murmur of conversation mixed with the clink of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. The air carried the inviting scent of warm sake and grilled food, a contrast to the cool, damp alley outside.

It wasn't the kind of place that advertised itself loudly. Instead, it had the quiet confidence of a bar that didn't need to draw in strangers—it existed for those who knew it was there.

Sis held up the crumpled piece of paper she had been clutching all this time. It wasn't just an address—it was a letter, filled with lines of text.

"It's here!" she gasped, her eyes gleaming with newfound hope.

Relief washed over them.

"It really is… We actually made it," Shin murmured, a dry smile tugging at his lips.

Sis reached for the door, her fingers grazing the worn wood. With a quiet creak, she pushed it open, allowing a warm glow to spill into the cold alley.

The moment they stepped inside, a burst of laughter filled their ears.

"Cheers, boys! This time's catch is the biggest we've had all year!" boomed a drunken, barbarian-looking man with unkempt brown hair and a thick mustache. He raised his mug high, his face flushed with excitement.

"Drink all you want! Eat all you want! It's all on me!" he bellowed, laughing like a man who had just won the lottery.

Shin and his sis both scanned through the entire bar. The inside of the bar was dimly lit, with oil lamps casting a warm, flickering glow. 

The scent of tobacco and ale lingered in the air, mixing with the faint musk of old wood. A long wooden counter stretched across one side, lined with dark glass bottles, some neatly labeled, others left to mystery.

Behind the counter, the bartender—a middle-aged man in a vest with his sleeves rolled up—wiped down a pewter tankard. Low voices murmured through the room, glasses clinked, and in the back, a thick curtain swayed slightly, hinting at another space beyond.

Shin's sister strongly grabbed his hand and navigated through the drunken barbarians and reached the counter.

Suddenly!

"ONE GIANT RAKSHASA MEAT, COMING UP!!!"

The middle-aged bartender, clad in a vest, slammed a plate down on the table with a heavy thud. The meat sizzled, its juices glistening under the dim light—it looked like a feast fit for a king.

But Shin and his sister weren't focused on the food.

Their instincts flared. Without hesitation, Sis stepped in front of Shin, shielding him as they both dropped into a defensive stance.

The bartender was imposing—his thick, kinglike beard and piercing eyes made him look more like a warlord than a man who served drinks.

He scowled. "HUH? WHAT ARE THESE BRATS DOING HERE?!"

"Ahm." Sis cleared her throat.

"Illmere, good sir." (She greeted him formally.) "We came from the southeast region—from the city of Novaris." She exhaled, steadying herself.

The bartender's brows furrowed. "Novaris?" He repeated, the name seeming familiar to him.

Sis continued, "We came here to ask you some questions regarding this place. We will leave as soon as yo—"

The man's expression darkened. He assumed they were here to pry into the bar's business, which instantly soured his mood.

But he was wrong.

Before Sis could finish her sentence, the man's expression twisted with anger.

"Huh? What the hell do you mean, you little sh*ts?!" His voice boomed, thick with rage and intimidation.

Shin's gaze faltered for a moment under the bartender's glare, but his sister remained unfazed, standing firm. Her expression didn't change.

"It seems you misunderstood." Without hesitation, she extended the piece of paper she had been holding.

The bartender snatched it, scanning the words.

Then—he burst into laughter.

A deep, uncontrollable fit of laughter that echoed through the bar.

Shin narrowed his stern gray eyes. "What's so funny?"

The man finally calmed, wiping a tear from his eye. With an exasperated sigh, he muttered, "Nothing. You don't need to know." He folded the paper and exhaled. "I see why you're here… It's too crowded here. Let's talk inside."

The man pushed aside a thick curtain, revealing a long, dimly lit hallway stretching into the unknown. Shadows pooled at the far end, where the darkness swallowed the corridor whole.

Lining both sides were wooden doors, each adorned with elegant gold-colored knobs. The wood had a deep, wine-like hue, its surface carved with intricate patterns that shimmered faintly in the flickering candlelight.

From beneath each door, a soft, golden glow seeped through the gaps—almost as if the light itself was trying to escape.

Lanterns lined the walls, casting a soft, flickering glow over the corridor. As they walked, Shin silently counted the doors. Thirty… thirty-one… thirty-two. Yet, the end of the hallway remained swallowed in darkness.

How long is this hallway?

Just as the thought crossed Shin and Miyu's minds, the bartender finally stopped. The door before them bore the same intricate design as the others—but it was noticeably larger. At its center, a golden-painted snake coiled elegantly, its gleaming body almost alive under the dim light.

Without a word, the bartender reached into his pocket, pulled out a key, and slid it into the lock.

click!

The lock disengaged, and with a firm push, he swung the door open.

A warm glow illuminated the space inside. The room was lined with towering shelves, each packed with old books and strange trinkets. It wasn't a library, but it had the presence of one—its air thick with the scent of parchment and aged wood, its atmosphere heavy with untold secrets.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden glow from luxurious lamps that cast flickering shadows along the walls. At the far end, a sturdy wooden desk sat, covered in scattered documents, old books, and worn papers. A lone candle flickered nearby, its light glinting off a small inkwell and a neatly placed quill.

Among these familiar objects, one item stood out—a peculiar telephone that looked more like an ancient relic than a modern tool. Its design hinted at secrets of a bygone era.

The bartender moved with quiet confidence, rounding the desk before settling into the high-backed chair behind it. He leaned back slightly, the leather creaking under his weight, and exhaled a slow breath. Without a word, he pulled open a drawer, retrieved a cigar, and lit it with practiced ease. The smoke curled lazily in the air as he took a deep drag.

His sharp gaze settled on Shin and his sister. "Now talk," he said, his voice steady, almost amused. "What did you come here for? Though I've got a pretty good idea."

Sis took a slow breath, steadying herself before speaking. "We came here looking for her." She hesitated, then made herself clear. "Our mother. You know her, don't you? She used to work here."

The bartender took another slow drag from his cigar, his lips curling into a smirk. A thin trail of smoke drifted lazily toward the ceiling.

"Heh... So you really are her kids, huh?" His voice carried a strange amusement as if the thought itself was ridiculous. He exhaled a plume of smoke, his eyes narrowing slightly. "How funny. Who would've thought she had children?" He took another slow drag, letting the moment stretch before adding, "So what if I do know her?"

Sis's fingers tightened at her sides. Though her voice remained steady, there was a faint tremor beneath her words. "She wrote to us. In every letter, she said she worked in this bar. But then… four months ago, she stopped." She swallowed, forcing herself to stay composed. "No more letters. No word. Nothing."

A flicker of sorrow crossed her face, but she held firm. "We came here to find her. So tell us…" Her gaze met the bartender's, unwavering. "Where is she?"

The bartender remained silent for a moment, his fingers tapping idly against the desk. Then, out of nowhere, he burst into laughter—low at first, then building into something almost hysterical.

"Ahaa… aa… ha-ha!"

Sis's brows furrowed. "What's so funny?" she asked, a hint of concern in her voice.

The bartender let his laughter die down, wiping the corner of his eye as if he had just heard the best joke of his life. "Sure, I can tell you where she is," he said, a smirk playing on his lips. "But reaching her? That's another story."

Sis stiffened. "What? Why not?" Her face turned pale.

The bartender leaned back slightly, his cigar glowing faintly in the dim light. "Your mother worked here, yes. But two months ago, she quit." He exhaled a slow stream of smoke. "Took up work as a maid for a noble."

Sis's breath hitched. "Then… how do we find her?"

The bartender studied her for a moment, then chuckled. "Well, lucky for you, that noble happens to be one of my regulars." He took another drag of his cigar, his voice dripping with amusement. "I can arrange a meeting… if you're up for it."

"Really?! Thank you for your generosity. We will forever be in your debt," sis said, her voice warm with gratitude as she bowed deeply. "How can we ever repay you?"

The bartender waved a hand dismissively, a small chuckle escaping his lips. "Don't worry about that," he said. "Once you meet your mother, you can repay me with a spectacular reunion."

He flashed them a smile—one that, at first glance, seemed kind. Sis caught up in relief, didn't think twice about it.

But Shin did.

Something about that smile wasn't right. There was an undertone to it, something just beneath the surface—twisted, insidious. Shin had seen smiles like that before.

It was the kind that masked something ugly.

The ugly side of human nature.

"So, when can we meet her?" Sis asked, curiosity flickering in her voice.

The bartender took another slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a thin stream of smoke. "He stops by every week. You'll see him next time he comes." He smirked. "So, next week."

Sis let out a quiet sigh of relief. "I see. Then we'll come back next week."

She and Shin turned to leave.

"Hold on."

The bartender's voice made them pause mid-step.

"Considering you two came from Novaris," he said, his gaze trailing over Shin's worn outfit, his expression unreadable, "I doubt you have a place to stay."

His eyes said it clearer than his words—not like you have the money for one anyway.

Shin clenched his fists. Sis hesitated before answering. "…Yes."

The bartender leaned forward slightly, resting an arm on the desk. "How about this? You work here until next week. You'll get three meals a day and a roof over your heads." He exhaled another puff of smoke.

"How about it?"

"That would be great! We are forever in your debt." Sis bowed deeply, nudging Shin to do the same.

"Your work starts today," the bartender said, leaning back in his chair. "Return to the front desk for now. I'll explain the details later."

"Understood." Sis straightened up, grabbed Shin's hand, and turned to leave.

But Shin suddenly stopped.

He turned back, locking eyes with the bartender, his gaze sharp and unwavering. "By the way… what's your name?"

His tone was firm—almost interrogative.

The bartender exhaled a slow drag from his cigar, meeting Shin's stare with an amused smirk. A haze of smoke curled between them.

"…It's Garyuu."

After the conversation ended, Shin and his sister stepped out, making their way back to the front desk.

Meanwhile, in the dimly lit room, Garyuu sat in silence.

He took another slow drag from his cigar(This guy seriously needs to quit smoking, LOL!), the ember glowing faintly in the low light. Smoke swirled lazily above his head as he leaned back, resting his arms on the desk. His eyes stared upward—unfocused, lost in thought.

Then—

"Pfft… ha."

A chuckle slipped from his lips.

"Damn kids."

His laughter grew, but there was no warmth in it this time. It was a low, guttural sound—twisted, filled with something dark. His smirk stretched unnaturally, and in the flickering candlelight, his face contorted.

For a brief moment, it was as if the devil himself had taken his place.

The strange-looking telephone on Garyuu's desk suddenly rang, cutting through the lingering silence.

His laughter stopped instantly.

Reaching for the receiver, he brought it to his ear. The shift in his demeanor was immediate—his previous wicked amusement vanished, replaced by an air of elegance and professionalism.

"Illmere, sir. How may I assist you today?" His voice was smooth, almost refined.

There was a brief silence on the other end. Then, a deep, noble voice spoke. The tone was measured, yet carried an undeniable weight of authority.

"I want to know the condition of my product and when it will be ready to be received."

Garyuu remained composed, his expression unreadable. He took another slow drag from his cigar before answering.

"Rest assured, sir. Your product is ready. We just need to make a few final adjustments before delivery."

He exhaled a thin stream of smoke.

"It should be ready in three days."

"I see. In that case, I will be there in three days. I have some business to attend to in Akuro," the noble voice responded, calm and composed.

Garyuu remained silent for a few seconds as if carefully choosing his next words. Then, with a measured tone, he spoke.

"Of course, sir." He paused briefly before adding, "Out of curiosity… will you be bringing that woman here as usual? You see, there is someone who wants to meet her."

There was a pause on the other end. Then, the nobleman chuckled lightly—though there was no warmth in it.

"...Interesting. That depends on my mood."

His voice carried an air of amusement, but there was something unsettling about it.

"I will be looking forward to it."

With that, the line went dead.