“So what are we supposed to do now… Looking for them feels like a hassle, but if we don’t, it might come back to bite us. I told you, we didn’t need to bother looking for anyone in the first place. That person probably has no connection with us ‘scholars’ anyway.”
She Quan gently swirled the wine glass in his hand, then picked up a few ice cubes from a nearby plate and dropped them into the glass. The ice clinked crisply against the liquor.
“But even so, this is a task assigned by your superiors. If we just leave it hanging, who knows what trouble might come of it.”
The man beside him leaned in, lowering his voice as he cautiously inquired.
“Honestly, I blame this city. It’s way too remote—hardly any transmigrators want to come here. Look at other cities: you can just stroll down the street a couple of times and you might bump into a transmigrator. But take a look at this place, Mobius City—calling it a city is generous; it’s more like some forgotten corner. Out of tens of thousands of people, we’d be lucky to have a hundred or so transmigrators.”
“See, this shabby city has been around for so long, and only now does the Empire remember to offer us some support.”
Perhaps fueled by the alcohol, She Quan poured out all his grievances about the “scholars” organization, complaining from top to bottom.
But deep down, he knew that the next day, he’d still obediently return to work diligently.
The reason was simple: people need salaries to survive. Someone like him, once stripped of the protection and support of the transmigrator organization, really couldn’t do much on his own.
“We still have to look, of course…”
She Quan threw his head back and drained the glass in one gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing with a audible gulp.
“Let me help you think this through. Look, I’ve taken quite a bit of money from you, and I’ve been feeling bad about it. Come on, tell me, how far did that old man’s ‘divination’ actually go?”
Seeing this, the man quickly leaned in closer. He was something of an information broker, and his favorite thing was extracting useful—and free—information from these drunk, loose-lipped types.
“All he said was ‘crisis,’ ‘a mage,’ ‘tavern’—that’s it, nothing more. Sometimes I really want to tear that guy’s mouth open and see if he can speak properly. Hah, tearing mouths open—that’s something Demikhov would be perfect for.”
“I’ve already investigated all the legitimate taverns in Mobius City, and what did I find? Nothing. A complete waste of time and energy. Today, I thought I’d try my luck at a gang-run tavern, but I got thrown out right away.”
As he spoke, She Quan lifted his hand, examining his still-swollen wrist, and couldn’t help but grumble:
“Those brawny primitives really don’t hold back.”
“Whoa, that’s all the information you have!?”
Now it was the man’s turn to be shocked. In his original impression, the “scholars” in Mobius City were supposed to be quite capable—how could they provide so little useful intel this time?
“What do you think? If there were more information, I wouldn’t have struggled so much. Where on earth has that guy run off to… Why can’t he just show up obediently in front of me…”
She Quan sighed helplessly, and the man refilled his glass.
“Lately, the gangs and the Empire’s transmigrators have been on edge, not getting along. You shouldn’t go provoking them for no reason. Even though you have a ‘Divine Gift,’ with a ‘Divine Gift’ like yours… tsk tsk, I’m really worried you might die out there.”
Hearing this, She Quan immediately stood up to retort:
“I’m plenty capable too! Even if I usually seem a bit useless, that doesn’t mean what the ‘scholars’ gave me is useless. Of course, I can’t just go around talking about it.”
Seeing She Quan get a bit agitated, the man didn’t dare tease him further, afraid that this slightly drunk fellow might get angry and use his “Divine Gift” to dig up all his secrets.
Still, he had gleaned some information—it seemed the “scholars” organization had given She Quan something.
“Don’t dwell on it too much. No one knows if the person you’re looking for stays in a tavern all the time. Maybe they were just passing through when the ‘divination’ captured their image. But your ability could really help make up for that gap.”
“Putting aside the gang-run taverns, there are quite a few old-style taverns in Mobius City that have been driven out of business by the new-style bars. Those places might just be the scenes from the ‘divination’ visions. Don’t you think?”
When Mobius City was first established, many people rushed to open taverns here. But later, with the nobles and transmigrators drawing on transmigrator experience, new-style bars sprang up like mushrooms, once again squeezing out the old-style taverns.
Many old taverns went out of business—some were bought by gangs and turned into their hideouts, while others were left vacant, waiting for new wealthy buyers.
“I think if you investigate in this direction, you might actually find something. These abandoned, unoccupied shops make perfect hiding spots, right?”
“You’re right. I’ll look into it tomorrow.”
The two chatted more and more animatedly and continued drinking, losing track of time until they were thoroughly drunk.
Early the next morning, the still-drunk She Quan slowly woke up. He struggled up from the table, staggered to borrow the man’s bathroom, and washed up briefly.
Afterward, he checked his wallet to make sure nothing was missing, then mounted the motorcycle he’d parked outside the door the previous night and sped off toward Brandt University.
Even though rumors of an impending war were spreading all over Mobius City, its residents still had to go to work as usual. The daytime streets were so crowded that She Quan couldn’t ride his motorcycle at all. He had no choice but to get off and push the heavy bike through the throngs of people.
“Miscalculated… Shouldn’t have drunk so much last night. Traveling at night would’ve avoided this traffic.”
Grumbling to himself, She Quan absentmindedly scanned the street. Suddenly, he spotted a police officer up ahead, going door-to-door, informing residents about recent gang-related unrest.
“I remember this guy—seems like a heavy drinker.”
She Quan had always had a good memory. While investigating bars before, he’d looked up this particular officer’s information. He was one of Mobius City’s earliest residents, a serious drinker who spent every night in bars.
In theory, he should know a lot about the bar scene, right?
And now he was doing outreach and inspection work—wasn’t that a ready-made report?
If he could use transmigrator privileges to access police resources for publicity and inspections, he could conduct a large-scale sweep and maybe identify suspicious locations nearby.
With this idea in mind, She Quan quickened his pace.
Pushing his motorcycle, he reached the shop the officer had just entered and waited patiently outside. As the officer turned to leave, She Quan eagerly delved into the man’s memories.
What he found surprised him.
The number of vacant taverns in the city was much higher than he’d thought, and most were scattered along old streets. Just around the old streets near Brandt University, there were three abandoned old taverns.
“That many…”
She Quan couldn’t help but murmur.
As he sifted through the memories, one line caught his attention:
[This shop is clearly a law firm, yet its decor is so distinctive—it feels just like a tavern.]
“Hmm, let’s add that to the investigation list too.”
She Quan thought to himself.
…
Meanwhile, Schubert and Lance were intently practicing with the metal swords they’d scavenged from the Elberd residence. Compared to nearly a month ago, their physiques were noticeably leaner and more muscular, exuding a hardened, resilient aura.
Especially Lance, who had long shed his previous image of a frail scholar. Now, he swung the heavy iron sword with force, the blade cutting through the air with a fierce whoosh.
After training, their mother kindly handed them towels sewn from scraps of burlap. Wiping off their sweat, the two walked over to sit and rest under the shade of a tree, chatting and laughing.
Clap, clap, clap…
Suddenly, an out-of-place applause sounded from a distance.
A man with slightly curly hair, dressed in a crisp suit, slowly emerged from behind a tree and politely bowed to the two. It was Nosask.
“I’ve observed your growing strength, but I can’t help feeling there might be some issues with your training methods.”
Nosask said with a smile.
Schubert remembered Renith’s warning and felt intense dislike for this Nosask, viewing him as an annoying pest who kept popping up in their village every now and then.
If Renith hadn’t said this man was somewhat decent, Schubert would have gladly kicked him out of the village. In his eyes, as a transmigrator aligned with the nobles, this guy was undoubtedly their enemy.
With that thought, Schubert didn’t hesitate. He took a deep breath and, following the instructions from the book Renith had left, stirred the “qi” within his body.
A faint thread of qi slowly circulated through his blood vessels and muscle fibers. With a loud shout, he threw a powerful punch toward Nosask in front of him. The strong wind pressure ruffled Nosask’s fine, curly hair.
“You don’t need to worry about us. Go back to your lonely mansion.”
Schubert said coldly.
Nosask spread his hands, looking innocent as if to show he meant no harm. Seeing that he really had no intention of fighting, Schubert reluctantly returned to the shade and continued wiping his sword.
“You’re really amazing, Schubert. In just half a month, you’ve achieved this much. I don’t feel anything yet, and most villagers have only just begun to sense the threshold of ‘qi.’ To reach your level, it’ll probably take a few more months.”
Lance said with envy.
“Just as you said, Lance. Our time is running out.” Schubert said gravely.
At that moment, Nosask, who was standing nearby, suddenly spoke up with a smile:
“That’s right, your time is indeed running out. Perhaps you haven’t heard… Mobius City is about to go to war.”
“War?”
Lance immediately stood up. He suddenly thought of Renith, who had gone to Mobius City because of his letter. Renith was powerful, no doubt, but faced with gunfire, even she could get hurt.
“Yes… It’s a battle between the Empire and the rebels.”
Nosask added.
