Only after the auction had fully concluded and the crowd gradually dispersed did Muen leisurely stroll out of the private box.

By that time, the attendant had already been waiting respectfully outside.

"Honored guest, here is the item you won at the auction."

On the silver tray, a jewel box inlaid with gold radiated a layer of opulent brilliance. Muen casually opened the box, and the pink teardrop gem—a symbol of true love—lay quietly against the red velvet lining. Even without direct lighting, it still sparkled dazzlingly.

"Very good."

He didn’t bother verifying its authenticity. Muen trusted that the auction house wasn’t stupid enough to tamper with items here. He tucked the gem away with ease.

But just as he was about to pull out his money, the attendant respectfully spoke up:

"Sir, as an apology for our earlier rudeness, this gem is being gifted to you free of charge."

"Oh? Didn’t you already give me a 20% discount?"

"But sir didn’t purchase anything else besides this gem, correct?"

Wiping sweat from his brow, the attendant lowered his voice:

"This is our boss’s will. He very much wishes to become friends with you."

"Boss?"

Muen raised an eyebrow.

He wasn’t particularly surprised by the move from the auction’s shadowy owner.

Earlier, he had warned the attendant to keep everything confidential—no fourth party could know that such a big fish had entered the auction house. The so-called “three people who know” clearly referred to himself, the attendant, and the boss behind the attendant.

After all, this was that boss’s turf. There was no hiding it from him.

He just hadn’t expected such a fast reaction.

"You people in the underworld... always this eager to make friends?"

"The more friends you have, the wider your connections, no? For people like us who live in the shadows, lacking connections means tripping over the smallest stones."

"Fair enough."

Muen clapped the attendant’s shoulder.

"Then I, son of Duke Raymond, will accept your friendship. Next time I’m here, remember to give me a discount."

"Absolutely, absolutely."

The attendant nodded like a pecking chicken, though his face, which never dared to rise, twitched at the corner of his mouth.

Son of Duke Raymond?

Who’re you fooling?

We just checked through our own intel network—turns out that so-called model noble, the Duke’s son, already returned to their territory with Duke Raymond himself.

If you're gonna lie, at least make it halfway believable!

Saying you’re the Campbell Duke’s son would’ve been more convincing!

...

...

Outside the auction house—

The flamboyant woman stood by the door, flashing a dazzling smile and bowing politely to every guest that passed by, as if she never grew tired.

As Muen passed her, she lowered her head and murmured in a hushed tone:

"Most of them went west just now."

"Thanks."

Muen nodded and moved on without stopping.

But the moment he took a step, he suddenly felt something tug at him.

He turned back.

The heavily made-up woman had gripped the hem of his coat. Her eyes were full of doe-like anxiety, but she summoned her courage and said: 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

"I’m leaving this place... and with the money you gave me, I’m going to apply for Gulaine Women’s Academy. I want to become a teacher."

"Really?"

Muen smiled. "That’s great. Good luck."

"Mhm."

Like sunlight breaking through clouds, flowers in full bloom, all her fear and unease melted away. She released his coat and nodded firmly, eyes glistening with light:

"I will, sir."

...

...

Muen walked unhurriedly through the black market roads as though he were out for a stroll. He even stopped at a street stall to buy a pair of binoculars allegedly capable of seeing beautiful women bathe from a kilometer away.

Whether the black market was a naturally formed space or an artificially excavated one was anyone’s guess. Though large, it only spanned a few blocks.

The terrain was indeed complex, but shaking off a tail in this place? Nearly impossible.

Which meant that once Lorenzo had acquired the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood, his first move would undoubtedly be to get out of the black market. For him, the lower city of Beirland was home turf.

And those other mutts, greedy bastards who planned to rob the robber, probably thought the same.

After all, fighting was strictly prohibited in the black market. Starting a fight here was like slapping the face of the black market’s hidden overlords. Anyone with a functioning brain wouldn’t dare to make that mistake.

All Muen needed to do was confirm which exit tunnel they used—then follow along slowly.

Losing their trail was unlikely. The black market had only a few paths out anyway. And...

Muen’s gaze swept ahead.

Several shady figures were already tailing the group from a distance, sneaking along just like him.

The mantis stalks the cicada, unaware of the sparrow behind?

A smirk curled Muen’s lips.

The real yellow sparrow? No one knows who that is yet.

...

...

Lower city.

A fully armed group moved swiftly through the maze-like alleys, filthy water sloshing beneath their feet. A vagrant startled awake beside a pile of garbage. His bleary eyes caught sight of the crew, and in the blink of an eye, his sleepiness vanished. He hastily clawed at the trash and buried himself inside.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

Lorenzo could feel it—those goddamn eyes clinging to his back like chewed-up gum stuck to the sole of a boot, no matter how hard he tried to shake them.

His face had darkened ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) to a frightening degree.

He had underestimated just how greedy these mutts were.

He thought maybe, just maybe, some fools might come after the Ancient Dragon’s Lifeblood—but surely none would dare follow him, not with the Red Flame Gang’s name to consider.

And yet, ever since he left the auction, he had felt no fewer than twenty different hostile gazes from all directions.

And that was just the stupid ones. The truly cunning, the truly troublesome ones, were still hanging back even further—each one hoping to be the yellow sparrow swooping in for easy pickings!

"It’s fine, boss. Those stray dogs are annoying, sure—but they’re just scattered fleas. As long as they don’t gang up, they’re no threat."

Beside him, his trusted aide scanned the area and reassured:

"Besides, the chance of those greedy bastards actually cooperating is even lower than Miss Sers turning over a new leaf!"

"Who’s Miss Sers?"

"Top girl at the El Street brothel. Said to take on more than twenty dockworkers in a single night. They call her the lake monster of the Gulaine River." The aide smacked his lips fondly. "Her hips twist better than a python's coil."

"Motherfucker! Didn’t I tell you to stop going to those shady joints? I give you that money for medicine, not to come back riddled with infections and screw me over!"

Lorenzo smacked the back of the guy’s head with a scowl.

"Heh. Gotta save money for my sick sister’s treatment, y’know?" the aide scratched his head, utterly unfazed.

"You're gonna get yourself killed dragging that sickly sister of yours around!"

Lorenzo glared, but the distraction had, in fact, lightened his heart a bit.

Right. Stray dogs were just that—dogs. Unless they formed a pack, they’d never pose a threat.

Once he made it back to Red Flame Gang territory, no one would dare try to snatch anything from his hands again!

Lorenzo quickened his pace.

At that moment, a cold wind rose—like an invisible hand stirring the fog that clung thicker and heavier to the night.

He heard a sharp whistle.

It cut through the air like a ghost's cry, drifting through the darkness of the alleyways.