Behind the ancient door, darkness awaited.
A stench of piss, decay, smoke, and alcohol lingered in the stagnant air.
‘Ugh, shit!’ Ambrose covered his nose and mouth with his hand, trying to block out the foul odor.
He then slowly approached the darkness, moving one step at a time. When he crossed the threshold, the door automatically shut down, trapping him in the darkness.
As panic started to kick in, dusty lanterns lit up the mountain walls while slowly chasing away the eerie darkness.
The foul odor still occupied the stagnant air, but Ambrose soon realized that the stench was coming from somewhere else.
He began to follow the path of the lanterns and soon came across an old minecart standing on top of the rickety tracks. The tracks led deeper into the underground, uncertain of where they would ultimately lead.
‘This minecart must lead to Warhaven. The question remains, how far do I need to travel…’ Ambrose rubbed his chin, but he didn’t really want to waste his time, as there were only a few hours to explore.
He didn’t plan on fighting today. His plan was just to visit Warhaven and then return home.
‘I shouldn’t lose this key…’ Ambrose put the brass key back in his inventory. From there, it wouldn’t get stolen, at least. He just had to ensure that he wouldn’t die.
He then climbed on the minecart and looked around for any levers or switches. But then suddenly, the minecart’s wheels started screeching as it began to move down the track, gaining speed quickly.
“O-oh, it’s picking up speed!” Ambrose’s eyes widened as the minecart accelerated with immense speed, and they were soon moving easily over 100 km/h. The tracks didn’t look well maintained, so he was afraid that they would break, causing the minecart to crash.
“Fuuuuck, where are the brakes?!”
His shouts fell on deaf ears as the minecart continued plunging deeper into the darkness, leaving behind a trail of sparks.
…
The ceiling, lit up by bright lanterns, was the underground city’s man-made sky and sun. The lanterns worked automatically. When the sun went up above the ground, the lanterns would light up, but when the sun went down, they would dim and gradually fade away, leaving the city in darkness.
However, the street lamps would then illuminate the city, providing light during the night. They weren’t the only thing that gave off light; the windows reflecting off the lanterns glow also added a warm and cozy ambiance to the otherwise dark streets.
In addition, the bright signs of various shops gave off light and illuminated the bustling sidewalks.
“Urgh!” A drunken man walked out of the Red Light District with a bottle of whiskey in hand. He had finished visiting his favorite prostitute in one of the brothels. He stumbled along the sidewalk, his vision blurred by the glow of neon signs. 𝐎𝗏xt.𝗰𝑶𝔪
Suddenly, he felt a tug on his collar, and he was dragged into a narrow, twisting alleyway by a powerful force. The drunken man almost fell, but then a sharp object stabbed into his gut.
“Aaah!” The drunken man dropped his whiskey bottle, and when it landed on the ground, it shattered, spilling piss-colored whiskey across the sidewalk.
“You should have paid your debt, mongrel!” The person with the knife in hand whispered coldly. He then twisted the knife in the wound before pulling it out and stabbing it into the drunken man’s throat.
Blood spurted out, staining the sidewalk, as the man gasped for air, his life slipping away. He slowly fell down on his buttocks, a pond of blood appearing around him.
The person with the knife covered his face and disappeared into the narrow, twisting alleyway.
Tap, tap—a pair of footsteps walked down the sidewalk before coming to a stop. The figure side-glanced at the dead, drunken man.
“Burp!” The figure suddenly burped and crouched beside the drunken man before rummaging through his pockets. Unfortunately for him, he did not find a single pouch that contained silver. “Unlucky.”
The figure then stood up and walked away, his face lit up by the nearby street lamp.
When he entered the Red Light District, the streets grew very busy with hundreds of people moving about, with prostitutes shouting and showing their naked bodies in front of several brothels, trying to attract customers.
There were even prostitutes who didn’t bother finding a room in their brothels and just sold their bodies in nearby alleyways, where moans of a woman and grunts of men echoed every now and then.
The figure hid his face with the large-rimmed hat as he walked past the drunken crowd and half-naked women. Soon, he had left the bustling Red Light District and arrived at another busy part of the Warhaven—a Street of Alcohol.
The Warhaven’s citizens had a rather blunt way of naming their streets. The Red Light District was on a street called Street of Sex, while the Street of Alcohol was home of bars, inns and taverns.
The figure stumbled upon one of the bars and entered through the open door.
Laughter, cheers, and the clinking of glasses filled the air. The disgusting stench wafted from every part of the bar, while on one of the corner tables, several people had intimate moments that often escalated from ordinary kissing to having their clothes off.
The figure navigated across the crowded room and then tapped his finger against the bar counter.
“Nolo, the usual?” The bartender asked the figure, who had become a frequent visitor in his bar.
Nolo grinned underneath his hat and tipped it in affirmation. While the bartender went to fill a large pint with Nolo’s favorite beer. Nolo gazed around the bar and noticed the familiar faces of regular patrons.
Soon, loud cheers echoed across the bar. There were several customers standing in front of a board with hundreds of worn-out bounty posters. They were, surprisingly, cheering for their increase in bounties.
Nolo chuckled and nodded at the bartender, who brought his drink, and after taking a quick sip, he asked. “Who had the largest increase in bounty today?”
“That man on the corner table.” The bartender nudged his chin in the direction of a black-haired man with a black leather jacket and a woman on his arm. “He is known as Black Jack. His bounty reached 20,000 silvers today.”
“Not bad.” Nolo downed the large pint with ease. He then wiped off the foam from his lips and thanked the bartender. “Thanks. I am also planning to visit the Gates of Freedom tonight.”
“Haha, good luck.” The bartender chuckled and accepted the silvers before walking over to another impatient-looking customer.
Nolo tipped his hat to the bartender and began approaching the exit. While walking past drunken customers, he glanced towards the notorious Black Jack and saw him kissing a woman while his gang members talked with each other with beers in hand.
Nolo then straightened his sleeves and walked over to the exit. He then caught a glimpse of the public board with hundreds upon hundreds of bounty posters. The majority were brown-colored, while white-colored bounties were below the more important posters.
At the center of the public board, there were very few red bounty posters, each one having over a million silvers on their heads.
As Nolo passed the public board, a brown-coated man walked by him with a brown bounty poster in hand. He went to the public board and tacked it next to other brown bounty posters.
The bounty poster had a sketched image of a young man with messy hair and lifeless eyes.
[WANTED]
[DEAD OR ALIVE]
[Rank: Brown]
[Name: Ambrose]
[Reward: 7,500 silvers]
