This man—the underground guildmaster—spoke. “Hello, Shadow Fang... Or do you prefer Thirteen?”
Kuro restrained himself from frowning at the remark. Thirteen was what Kuro had been called in his hometown. When the guild leader asked for his name, Kuro had let it slip. That had been the one and only time he’d ever mentioned that name. He didn’t expect anyone to remember it, but the man before him addressed Kuro with that name, all from behind the same gentle smile. Kuro made a point not to show his discomfort with that and only stared at the guildmaster.
For his part, the guildmaster only shrugged. “Smile a little, why don’t you? You were still kind of cute when you first came here.”
“I’m out. How much?” Kuro cut right to the chase. He had no intention of indulging in idle chit chat.
“You have no charm or patience... Your new master’s not going to like that.”
Kuro couldn’t help but let his brows twist at the remark. The guildmaster, on the other hand, was actually impressed. Kuro had always been indifferent to others. He always remained solitary, doing his job and nothing more. He had built an impenetrable wall around him, rejecting anyone who came near. The guildmaster was now curious—Kuro had obviously met someone so important to him that he couldn’t hide his feelings, and he wondered who that person was.
Noticing the look in the guildmaster’s eyes, Kuro simply repeated, “How much?”
Kuro’s sharp glare seemed to be stabbing the guildmaster like a knife. He let out a small sigh and gave Kuro a price. “Ten gold coins.”
“That’s it...?” Kuro couldn’t help but feel suspicious of the reasonable offer. While ten gold coins was about three times the annual income of an average family, Kuro had made more than that on a single job of moderate difficulty. Money and strength ruled in the Gracis underground guild. There was no room for empathy or the social bonds often seen in legitimate mercenary guilds. In a way, the underground guild was the most efficient organization of all. Kuro had heard that the man before him was the very one who had restructured the guild that way, molding it out of what used to be a lawless ragtag band. The payment required to leave the underground guild, where money trumped all, varied depending on the individual’s skills and contributions to the guild. Even so, this seemed much too cheap.
“Normally I’d ask for at least ten times that.”
“Then why let me off so easy?”
“Does it matter to you?” The guildmaster returned a question, still smiling the same smile. Their eyes met, and heavy silence ruled the room.
Meanwhile, the receptionist was leaning against the open door to the room, holding back a yawn. She had always considered the guildmaster’s condescending tone to be one of his vices. While his calm expression did a decent job of hiding it, he wasn’t the leader of an underground guild for nothing. He was quite the character, to say the least.
“You have done a lot for us, Shadow Fang,” the guildmaster started again. “Fine. I’ll tell you if you’d like. First, you’ve contributed a significant amount to the guild. Anyone who requested you was willing to pay us a little extra, too.”
The receptionist could confirm this. Many of their clients had requested Shadow Fang, and most of them were exceedingly wealthy. Although, it was none of her business as to how they acquired their riches. Moreover, the underground guild was only responsible for setting up communications between the client and agent. Even when Kuro turned down a request, the guild would not refund their cut to the client. While Kuro was picky about which request to take, he had never actually failed any of them. This led to more and more people requesting his services, as his reputation as an agent who never failed spread through the underground. The guild was making bank just on their fee for connecting clients to Kuro specifically.
“And you know the second son to the Marquis Febvre.”
“Marquis Febvre?” Kuro repeated as he remembered Rook’s teasing smile. He couldn’t understand how the leader of the underground guild knew who the king’s right-hand man was. But the emphasis on “the” struck him as odd.
“The Febvres are famous for providing excellent officers to the king, one generation after another. On the surface, at least. Under the surface, they’re the kingdom’s guard dogs. The one you know particularly excels in that department.” The leader had confirmed the rumors about Rook with the nonchalance of meaningless small talk. If the Febvres were the kingdom’s secret service, Kuro could understand why Rook had called him a “kindred spirit.” The guildmaster continued, “The current king seems to keep the Febvres at a distance, but if their second son’s still serving the king, it means that the Febvres haven’t given up on him entirely. The guild doesn’t want to give the Febvre, or any Febvre for that matter, the wrong idea about you.” The leader had implied how powerful a presence the Febvres were in the underground.
Kuro, however, was concerned with something else. The fact that the Febvres were one of the nation’s most prominent houses both above and below the surface spoke volumes as to the power of Minister Barbosse, whom the prince was trying to take on. This meant that Barbosse wasn’t merely a fool drunk on power. He had his connections in the underground, too. Kuro frowned again.
Seeing Kuro’s reaction, the leader internally smirked at getting his point across successfully. Outwardly, he maintained the same gentle smile and continued, “In short, the guild’s much better off letting you leave on a good note. Money rules down here, as you well know. Pay us the amount I specified, and no one will stop you.” The leader squinted. That action alone made Kuro feel like the temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. “As long as you keep your end of the bargain, of course.”
The stipulation for leaving the underground guild was to not divulge any information about the guild or its work. That included everything from the location of any branches to any client information, and any details on the jobs performed. The exception was information gained on any hired job. Break this contract and the guildmaster himself would be on the case. Anyone who breached the contract would end up begging for death before having their entire existence erased from society. No amount of money nor extenuating circumstances would change this rule.
“I know,” Kuro acknowledged and produced a sack full of golden coins. He took out ten coins and placed them on the desk.