Aegon led Karl and several mercenaries out of Scorpion Tail Kurk's stone house, their footsteps tapping out a hurried rhythm on the damp cobblestone road.
The bustle of the port flowed around his ears, yet it could not mask the surging chill in his chest.
"You go," Aegon ordered the fastest Mercenary by his side, his voice as cold as tempered steel. "Gather all the brothers resting on shore and meet at the entrance of Mud Eel Alley. Be quick."
"Yes!" Without another word, the Mercenary turned and squeezed into the crowd, vanishing into the flow of people.
Aegon said no more, leading the remaining men at a brisk pace toward Mud Eel Alley.
Karl followed closely beside him, the muscles on his lean face tense, his hand resting constantly on the hilt of his blade.
Mud Eel Alley was a notorious narrow lane deep within the port district.
On both sides were low wooden buildings leaning crookedly against each other, never seeing sunlight. Unknown filth flowed on the ground, and the air was a mixture of cheap alcohol, rotting food, and even worse odors.
It had always been an ideal place for theft, fencing stolen goods, and dealing with "trouble."
When Aegon's group arrived at the alley entrance, they happened to witness this scene—
Four or five burly gang thugs with bare chests and exaggerated tattoos were shoving and dragging a person toward the depths of the alley.
The person being dragged was none other than one of the mercenaries who had gone ashore to rest, a young man named Luke. Aegon remembered him; back in the ruins, it was he whom Crows Eye had threatened with a dagger to the throat to force Aegon to disarm.
Aegon's brow furrowed.
At this moment, Luke's face was covered in blood and filth, one eye was swollen shut, and the corner of his mouth was split, yet he was still struggling with all his might, cursing indistinctly.
"Let me go! You scum! I said I'd pay the money back! Don't touch my sister!"
"Pay back? With what? Let your sister pay for you instead! You pauper!" A thug with a hideous scar on his face delivered a vicious punch to Luke's stomach.
Luke doubled over in pain, coughing, yet he still glared deathly at the man.
"Boss!" Karl whispered, pointing toward them.
Aegon had already assessed the situation.
He raised his hand, signaling the men behind him to stop, while he himself took two steps forward, his boots making a clear sound as they stepped on the wet stone.
"Stop."
The voice was not loud, yet it possessed a strange piercing quality that instantly drowned out the noise in the alley and Luke's groans of pain.
The thugs paused their movements and turned their heads in unison to look.
Seeing Aegon and the several mercenaries behind him, all with grim expressions and hands on their weapons, looks of wariness appeared on the thugs' faces.
The tattooed man in the lead sized Aegon up. A flash of surprise crossed his eyes when he saw Aegon's striking silver hair and cold features, but it was quickly replaced by his usual arrogance.
"Who are you?" The tattooed man spat. "Mind your own business. This kid owes our Iron Jaw Gang money, and it's only right he pays. If you're smart, get lost and don't go looking for trouble."
At this point, the restrained Luke also saw Aegon, and a sudden burst of hope flared in his swollen eyes. "Pri... Boss! It's not like that! They set me up! The interest we agreed on wasn't like this at all! It multiplied several times over! They also... they want to take my sister to settle the debt! She's only thirteen!"
"Shut up!" The tattooed man hit Luke again, then looked at Aegon with a threatening tone. "Did you hear that? Debts must be paid. Our boss, Barry, is the Magistrate's brother-in-law! In this Volantis port district, if you're a dragon, you must coil; if you're a tiger, you must crouch! Take your men and go back where you came from. You can't afford to meddle in this!"
Aegon listened quietly, his face expressionless. Only his violet eyes, in the dim light of the alley, were as cold as jade from a deep pool.
He glanced at Luke, whose face was bloody and filled with pleading and despair, then scanned the arrogant thugs.
"How much does he owe?" Aegon suddenly spoke, his voice calm.
The tattooed man blinked, then grinned to reveal yellowed teeth. "Principal plus interest, fifty silver coins! Why, you want to pay for him?"
Fifty silver coins.
For an ordinary Mercenary, this was indeed a massive sum capable of crushing a man.
Aegon didn't answer the question about the money. Instead, he continued in a voice that was unsettlingly calm: "Release him. I will have the money sent to your boss."
The tattooed man and the thugs behind him looked at each other and burst into sneers.
"Sent? Who do you think you are? You want to take someone with just empty words?" The tattooed man stepped forward, his finger nearly poking Aegon's chest. "I'll say it one last time—get lost! Or else..."
"Or else what?"
Aegon's voice abruptly turned cold, cutting off the man's bluster.
He took a sudden step forward, almost face-to-face with the tattooed man, his cold violet eyes locking onto the other's. "Release him. Otherwise, you and these men behind you will all stay in this alley today, and you'll never walk out."
Within those calm words lay an undisguised killing intent.
The scar-faced man was intimidated by this sudden aura and instinctively took half a step back, the flesh on his face twitching.
He had some modicum of judgment to have become a small leader in the port district.
This silver-haired kid and the silent mercenaries behind him carried an aura... different from that of ordinary sailors or thugs.
It was the scent of people who had truly seen blood and crawled out from piles of corpses.
The atmosphere in the alley tightened instantly, like a bowstring drawn to its limit.
Right then.
"Oh, quite lively here."
A coarse, oily voice with a thick local accent came from the other end of the alley.
Accompanied by messy, heavy footsteps, another group of people flooded into the already narrow alley.
Leading them was a tall, obese middle-aged man, bald, with layers of fat on his face and small eyes that glinted with greed and cruelty.
He wore an ill-fitting silk coat embroidered with gold, left open to reveal a hairy chest and a pair of short-handled iron hammers tucked into his waist—the origin of his nickname, "Bonebreaker" Barry.
Behind Barry followed at least twenty thugs armed with various weapons, instantly blocking off the other end of the alley.
The main force of the Iron Jaw Gang had arrived.
"Boss!" The tattooed man felt as if he'd been granted a reprieve and hurried to Barry's side, pointing at Aegon. "It's this kid. He wants to meddle in Luke's business and even threatened us!"
Barry narrowed his small eyes into slits, scanning Aegon, particularly when he saw Karl and the others. His brow furrowed for a moment before smoothing out into a nauseatingly hypocritical smile.
"I wondered who was so bold as to disrespect me, Barry," Barry spoke slowly, his voice sounding like a dull knife scraping against a whetstone. "Turns out it's a bunch of fresh faces. Which sewer did you crawl out of? Do you not know the rules of the Volantis port district?"
He paused, his gaze landing on Aegon's face, his tone carrying a patronizing arrogance. "Kid, I see you've brought quite a few men. I'll give you some face today."
"I'll take this debtor with me."
"As for you, take your men and go back where you came from. I'll act as if you were never here. How about it?"
He spread his fleshy palms, looking as if he were being very reasonable. "If you don't appreciate the gesture..." The smile on his face vanished instantly, replaced by sheer coldness. "Then don't blame me for being unkind."
"I, Barry, have been in this port for over a decade. I've crushed more hard bones than you've seen people."
"Dare to ruin my business, and I'll make sure you and the people behind you... won't be able to survive in Volantis!"
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