Chapter 221: The Owl and the Gold
Somewhere in the Black Market
The Black Market was buried beneath the spine of the mountain—an intricate network of tunnels and chambers carved out of cold stone and greed. The air here was thick with the scent of oil, old metal, and smoke. Lanterns swung from crooked beams, casting a dim orange haze that painted everything in half-light. Vendors shouted behind veils and masks, their voices echoing off the walls as coins clinked and parchment rustled in hurried exchanges. It was a place where one's face was a liability, and secrets were the only true currency.
