The Viper’s Den and the Price of a Life

“You look lost. Shall I help you?”

The voice was incredibly slow and drawling. Instinctively, sirens went off in my head. A thug at a glance. A blackmailer at a second look.

He appeared to be in his early thirties. With a scar between his eye and cheekbone, the man approached with a plastered-on smile. Adding an excessive “service smile” to such a grimy impression placed him nowhere near the realm of kindness.

The crowds were massive, and no one was paying attention to us. In the middle of this cacophony, two children who looked young and wealthy were wandering around—even people with no prior bad intentions might start harboring them. To a local thug, we must have looked like a gift from the heavens.

I cursed my second brother internally. What happened to strengthening capital security? Why aren’t you cracking down on guys like this?

If you show fear in a moment like this, you lose. I tilted my chin up, hoping to look like the most obnoxious young noble possible. My role model was that brat, the Second Prince. Recalling his arrogant demeanor, I held my head high and laced my voice with irritation.

“Lost? Is there actually an idiot alive who gets lost at a festival?”

Me. I’m the idiot.

“Did those morons say they were securing a spot, or are they busy building one from scratch?”

I stomped my foot, cursing my non-existent escort. It was a bluff. I wanted the man to realize we weren’t just kids from a rich house, but from a house with power.

The man tilted his head slowly. I had thought he looked like a weasel, but looking again, he had the face of a snake.

“How strange. I’ve been watching you for a while… and there was no escort.”

The moment he finished his sentence, I grabbed Helena’s hand and bolted. There’s no reasoning with thugs who decide to pounce even after you flash your noble status. The law is scary, but a fist is closer than the law. And his type doesn’t just swing fists—they swing knives.

Aware that he might have accomplices, I didn’t risk ducking into any deep alleys. The man followed our sprint at a leisurely pace. Scanning for an exit, I dove into the thick wall of people lining the canal.

If you’re stuck between people, it’s just as hard for the pursuer to move. Being small gave us the advantage; we could move faster if we stayed low.

“Lin!”

“Hold on tight, Ella!”

Helena did her best to keep up. One moment she was pressed against my back, the next the distance grew until my arm was pulled taut. It wasn’t easy to maintain speed with two people.

The man was more persistent than I expected. I forced my way through the crowd, teeth grit. If only Daniel and the knights would appear now—it would be perfect timing.

“Aaah!”

I lost my grip on her hand. Or more accurately, someone snatched Helena away. It was a boy about half a head shorter than me. He flickered in and out of the crowd, and seeing the nasty smirk on his face, I realized he was part of the gang. I hadn’t expected them to plant such a small accomplice in the middle of the throng.

Oh, for f— I moved toward them a second too late. The boy was like an eel, slipping through the gaps as if he’d practiced weaving through crowds his whole life. I hoped Helena’s scream would draw attention, but the crowd was busy cheering at a massive lantern rising into the sky—the image of Yakap with arms spread wide in a merciful embrace.

All that effort to escape was wasted; I had to head back the way I came. Finally breaking through, I saw the brat running with Helena in tow. All those hours spent running around the training grounds until I wanted to puke paid off. My body screamed that it could go faster. I pushed off my legs, closing the gap in an instant. Just then, Helena resisted, dropping her weight to the ground. I didn’t slow down; I kicked the running boy square in the back.

“Gack!”

“Kyaaa!”

I helped Helena up, as she had tumbled down with him. It was impossible to tell what color her dress had originally been, but she seemed unharmed otherwise.

“If you need money, go beg! What were you planning to do by kidnapping her? Do you all want to die together?”

The words spilled out of me in my agitation. Beside me, a panting Helena dusted off her skirt. Helena wasn’t faint-hearted; the only thing she was weak for was Elliot. Though shaken, the only daughter of a Marquis put her hands on her hips and puffed out her chest, imitating the arrogant noble I had been mimicking earlier.

“Do you even know who I am?”

It was childish, but highly effective. In the capital, the name “Swarton” alone could open many doors. But the boy on the ground, blood streaming from his nose after faceplanting, didn’t look scared. Instead, he snorted and jeered.

“If you’re such high-and-mighty nobles, you should’ve stayed tucked away in your reserved seats. Why wander around?”

“What?”

I expected him to beg for mercy or at least flee to avoid trouble. The boy had no such intention.

“Do you know what it means when someone shows their face while doing bad business in this neighborhood?”

Ah. The realization hit me. I shielded Helena’s shoulders and ducked. A split second later, a scabbard whistled through the air right where my head had been. The man—the one somewhere between a weasel and a snake—appeared from behind, licking his lips as if disappointed he’d missed.

Only then did I realize that despite my best efforts to avoid it, we had been herded into a dead-end alley. The man and the boy slowly closed the distance. If we were pushed further in, there would be no escape. Slow down. You can do this. I pivoted toward the more manageable target—the boy—and kicked him in the chest.

“Ella!”

This time he was ready; the brat grabbed my foot tight. I hadn’t expected to take him down with just that, though. As intended, an opening appeared, and Helena bolted into the crowd. The man, who had pursued us quite diligently before, didn’t follow her this time. Did they have more people in the crowd? Or…

I threw my full weight into my leg, and the boy let go, coughing. The man swung his sheathed sword. I dodged again, but this time it grazed my ear. The sheer weight of the blow resonated, leaving a ringing in my ears. He wasn’t trying to hit me; he was enjoying watching me scramble. He was herding me deeper into the alley.

I couldn’t fathom his motive. If money was the goal, shouldn’t they have caught both of us? The boy had explicitly said they showed their faces on purpose—meaning they had no intention of letting us leave alive. My back hit the wall. There was nowhere left to retreat.

“Don’t worry. You won’t live long enough to see your friend get dragged back here.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. He looked genuinely delighted.

“I want that kid’s clothes. He put a hole in my pants,” the brat complained, grumbling about his scuffed knees. The man readily agreed. The ownership of my trousers was being decided by them without any regard for my opinion. It was a ridiculous situation. I didn’t feel like laughing, though.

“Might as well take the jacket too, Keif. You’re the only one small enough to fit into it anyway.”

More figures emerged from the shadows of the alley. I never imagined I’d have to personally experience Spellman’s lesson—‘Never assume a fight will be a fair one-on-one’—so soon.

I wished I had even a stick to hold. I scanned the ground. In movies, there’s always a lead pipe rolling around. No luck. This empty lot was so clean it looked like it had been part of a volunteer trash-pickup program.

“Isn’t it a bit cowardly, ganging up like this?”

The others, excluding the “weasel,” were around the same age—either new adults or just under. At that age, pride usually burns hot. I tried to provoke them, but it failed. The one who had told Keif to take the jacket just clutched his stomach and laughed.

“Fair chivalry? You must have spent too much time memorizing that stuff. Is it because you’re a noble?”

“He’s just a kid. That’s the age where that stuff looks cool.”

I racked my brain to buy time. Could Helena find Daniel? If she did, how long would it take to get back here? I tried to run the numbers for a hopeful outcome, but I kept hitting a wall. Unless a miracle happened, this was impossible.

“If it’s money you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Looking to give us some charity? Sorry, but we’re not in the mood for begging.”

The brat snorted. He wasn’t very intimidating with blood pouring from his nose, but seeing the others remain silent, it was clear they were of the same mind.

“Then what do you want?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just to screw over a high-born noble lord?”

The jacket-obsessed guy cuffed the brat on the head. While they bickered, the weasel stayed in the back with his arms crossed. His posture—the line from his head to his waist and legs—was perfectly straight. It was more telling because it wasn’t a conscious pose. This man had held a sword for a long time.

Having watched Leo and Spellman, I was certain. The way he swung that sword earlier… he had definitely held back enough for me to dodge. That made this an even more bizarre combination: a group of teenage thugs, a young boy, and a thirty-something swordsman. There aren’t many reasons for such disconnected people to gather.

I bit my lip and took a step forward. The guys who had been joking amongst themselves fell silent and glared at me. The tension was piercing.

“One million.”

“What?”

“Five million.”

The quieted group started murmuring again. Is he offering money now? We told him we didn’t want it—is he deaf? Laughter still bubbled up. Five million gold was equal to three years’ salary for an Imperial scribe. I raised the stakes one more time.

“Ten million.”