Ultimate Gamer System: Factory Must Grow!-Chapter 61: Master of whispers [Bonus Chapter: PS last week]

The tavern, be it on the outside or the inside, didn’t look like anything one would expect to find on the road connecting the autonomous, lawless city with the anarchic state of a fallen noble house.

Its outside was well-kept, with gardens cut by the various paths one could take from the main road to the tavern’s courtyard, stable, and shed area. The insides, however…

Whoever was responsible for keeping up this place’s appearances deserved a raise.

And despite being the one that invited the chaos to this perfectly well-kept and designed main hall of the tavern, Callane still could spot the value in hiring the man responsible for the design of this place.

Still, as she was right now, standing in the entrance and looking down at the long tables all sprawling out in a half-circle pointed toward the innkeeper’s counter at the center, she wasn’t exactly in a place to post any hiring notices… even if her noble lineage would normally allow her to do so.

"Who the hell do you think you are?!"

With the bait thrown out, Callane didn’t have to wait long for one of the locals to rise from their seat, a mug of cheap beer still in their hand, as they turned and started to walk toward her.

Before the first challenger could even get close, two more followed suit, with clear designs on clearing the source of the disturbance.

Seeing this, Callane only smiled before tightening her gloved hands into fists.

’Let’s tango!’

Right as the first of the challengers reached close, most likely with the intention of looming over the haughty girl to scare her off, Callane… drove her fist straight into the man’s stomach, only to then kick him away before he could vomit all the beer and cheap food of this inn down on her extended arm.

’Not exactly a mud-shot, but it works,’ staring down at her first victim for but a moment, Callane then turned her eyes toward her next target before reinforcing her grin.

By now, she had made it quite clear she wasn’t here just to spit insults or flaunt her position. And seeing how she got some action herself rather than delegating the task of beating up the locals to her escorts… In the eyes of the locals, she just lost the default protection afforded to anyone willing to throw their weight around like that.

In the eyes of the locals, she had just proved that she wasn’t one of those flimsy nobles who could do everything… for as long as they had their armed guards with them. And since she wasn’t a noble…

Callane turned into a free game for everyone to take on!

"GET HER!" someone shouted from somewhere deeper in the main hall, only for several more men to jump up from their seats and rush in her direction.

Now, rather than holding on to their cups, those men mostly smashed them down against the solid wood of the long tables, turning them into makeshift weapons that wouldn’t stand the test of a sword… but could do just enough drastic damage to be fitting for a tavern brawl!

"LET’S FUCKING GO!"

Finding herself smack-dab in the middle of her element, Callane rushed forth.

A simple kick to the face of one of the locals nearly flashed her undergarments to the rest, only for the one lucky fellow who possibly caught a glimpse to then be served a knee straight to his face next.

’Filthy…’

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Pouting her full lips, Callane held nothing back as she turned into a whirlpool of heels, knees, elbows, and fists, serving them indiscriminately to all those who came to get a taste of her.

Before long, the purpose of her gloves also came to light, as they proved to be surprisingly easy to wash the blood from, blood that continued to accumulate in bigger and bigger amounts all over every nook and cranny of the hardened leather.

By the time Osman finally dared to enter the building after his lady, she was standing on top of one of the tables, holding the biggest out of the locals by the throat, with his feet dangling just an inch off the ground.

It was such a short distance, almost enough for him to still find support by stretching his feet down… only to find a hair-width short, leaving himself stranded in Callane’s iron-like hold.

"Now, now…"

An unexpected, soothing voice filled the tavern’s insides, cutting through the clutter caused by all the other locals now openly reaching out for their steel.

It was one thing to come into their tavern and seek problems. But seeing how their most outgoing companions now ended either whining and cowering in pain while their very leader was getting his life choked out of his throat…

"While I would lie to claim this is an unexpected visit…" the same voice continued, unbothered by the thick atmosphere in the place. "To see such a mess created by nobody else but Lady Callane herself…"

Callane’s eyes instantly locked on the voice’s owner; an unassuming, middle-aged man casually sipping on wine from a rare glass cup out in the very corner of the dining hall.

"You are the big dog here?" Wasting no time on small talk, Callane dropped the man she held up, allowing him to desperately gasp for air as he tumbled down to the ground. By the time he could regain his breath, however, Callane had already jumped from one long table to the other before landing right by the one and only small, round table at which that unassuming middle-aged man sat down with his cup of wine.

Wine that was aromatic enough for Callane to recognize it for what it really was—Helm, the luxurious wine sourced from lands only the most elite of merchants had ever heard about!

’Back home, a single bottle of this would be worth how much?’ Noticing the bottle just… standing by the man’s leg, Callane couldn’t help but think back. ’Five gold coins? Ten?’

Shaking her head, Callane cleared out her thoughts before taking her seat at the man’s table, pretty much right as Osman, her bodyguard, finally managed to squeeze through the crowd of locals and stand down behind her.

"It would be eight gold coins per bottle, or sixteen if you wanted to get one from the underground," the man, as if reading Callane’s thoughts, grinned as he spoke. "But I believe this isn’t what brings you here, is it?"

For a moment, Callane measured the man with her eyes, a battle of her thoughts taking place right behind the pupils of her eyes.

"That’s right," caring not for etiquette, Callane snatched the man’s cup before taking a small, measured sip of the expensive wine herself. "Today my request is rather simple. Either bring the mage we last talked about or prepare a man willing to get sentenced so that he can serve as our key to the lands beyond the gate."

This unassuming middle-aged man… or rather, one of the many proxies the owner of his voice and the master of his words used, still raised his eyebrow at the audacity of Callane’s request.

Neither the master of whispers nor the man’s proxy was stupid. And so, rather than getting blinded by how Callane’s request likely meant she was going to break the taboo and pass through the gate herself… they could actually see how her determination to save Theodore was big enough to put her at odds with the kingdom… no, with the whole of the continent all at once!

"That’s certainly not an everyday request, is it?" The middle-aged man smiled as he said, leaning back in his chair while closing his eyes as he turned silent for a short while.

Once he opened them back again, something about him… changed.

The look in his eyes was deeper, more far-seeing than before. And when he looked back at Callane’s face…

Gulp

For some reason, when faced with this unorthodox stare, Lady Callane couldn’t help but feel as if all of her secrets were now laid bare before the man’s intense gaze.

"Not an everyday request, it is for sure, but that doesn’t mean my network could ever fall short," even the man’s voice changed, its pitch growing slightly higher yet weirdly softer than before, creating a rather uncomfortable sense of mismatch between the identity of the voice’s owner and just how soothing it was.

"As long as you are willing to pay the price, that is."