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                                        Chapter 77: Talkative Blacksmith
                                
                                                                                        
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A man stepped forward, his appearance disheveled yet unassuming. His shirt was wrinkled, and his hair stuck out in odd directions, as though he’d spent more nights at the gambling tables than in bed.
His tired eyes darted nervously, and he fidgeted with a coin in his hand, flipping it over his knuckles in a practiced motion.
Williams narrowed his eyes, his posture stiffening as he assessed the man.
The news wasn’t surprising, but it wasn’t welcome either.
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