Chapter : 1477

  He walked over to the table and picked up a piece of dried meat Garris had left on a tray. He sniffed it suspiciously. It smelled like shoe leather.

  "This city runs on two things," Lloyd said, tossing the meat back. "Fear and bureaucracy. The Orchid House is a facility. Facilities need supplies. They need food. They need laundry services. They need specialized medical equipment. Someone in this city is signing the checks. Someone is approving the deliveries."

  He pointed a finger at Ken. "Kasim. You are my eyes on the street. You are a mute bodyguard. You stand around. You listen. People ignore servants and bodyguards. They talk in front of them like they are furniture. Go to the taverns near the government district. Don't ask questions. Just listen. Listen for complaints about strange deliveries, high-security zones, or missing people."

  Ken nodded. "Understood."

  "And you, Jia," Lloyd said, turning to Jasmin. "You are going to be the best assistant a doctor ever had. We are going to open a clinic."

  "A clinic?" Jasmin blinked. "Here?"

  "Not here," Lloyd said. "We need a storefront. Somewhere visible but not too expensive. We need to establish Doctor Zayn's reputation. I need to treat people. I need to be seen as a miracle worker. If I become famous enough, the right people will come to me. Desperate people. Powerful people."

  "Like you did in Rizvan," Jasmin realized. "With Lord Qadir."

  "Exactly," Lloyd said. "It worked once. It will work again. Rich people are the same everywhere. They get sick, and they think their money can buy magic. I will give them magic."

  He sat down on the edge of the bed. It sagged alarmingly.

  "But first," Lloyd said, "we need to understand this city. We need to know where the power lines are. Who hates whom. Which officials are corrupt. Which ones are loyal fanatics."

  He looked at the ceiling. "This isn't a sprint, team. It's a marathon. We have thirty days. That sounds like a lot, but it will vanish faster than my patience at a tea party."

  "Master," Jasmin said quietly. "Are you scared?"

  Lloyd looked at her. He could lie. He could be the fearless leader. But Jasmin had seen him cry. She had seen him bleed.

  "I am terrified," Lloyd said honestly. "This isn't a game. If we mess up, we don't just lose. Risa dies. We die. And my father probably starts a war just to get my corpse back."

  He grinned, though it didn't reach his eyes. "So, let's not mess up. Simple, right?"

  Ken finished assembling a sleek, black rifle. He racked the bolt. The sound was a loud clack-clack in the quiet room.

  "We are ready," Ken said.

  "Yes," Lloyd said. "We are."

  He stood up and walked back to the window. The sun was setting over Saber, turning the black stone of the city into a deep, bruising purple. Lights were flickering on in the windows of the houses below. Thousands of people. Thousands of enemies.

  And somewhere out there, a little girl was waiting for a sister who would never come.

  "Don't worry, Risa," Lloyd whispered to the glass. "Pia couldn't make it. So she sent the cavalry."

  He turned back to the room.

  "Get some sleep," he ordered. "Tomorrow, Doctor Zayn goes shopping for real estate. And Kasim... try not to look like you want to murder the pillow. It makes the bed nervous."

  Ken stared at the pillow in his hand. He gently placed it down and patted it.

  "Good night," Ken said.

  Lloyd shook his head. They were a motley crew. A fake doctor, a mute assassin, and a handmaiden with diamond skin. It was ridiculous.

  But as he lay down on the lumpy mattress, staring at the dark ceiling, Lloyd felt a strange sense of calm. He had a mission. He had a team. And he had a whole city to outsmart.

  This was going to be fun. In a terrible, life-threatening sort of way.

  The next morning, Saber revealed itself under the harsh light of the sun. Lloyd, Ken, and Jasmin left the safe house early, stepping into the rhythm of the waking city. Lloyd wore his scholar's robes, spectacles perched on his nose, walking with the slightly shuffling gait of a man who spent too much time reading and not enough time running.

  "Keep your eyes open," Lloyd murmured, his lips barely moving. "But look at the ground. Look at the fruit stands. Do not look at the soldiers."

  Chapter : 1478

  They walked through the Merchant Quarter. It was vibrant. Surprisingly so. The stalls were piled high with colorful fabrics, strange fruits from the southern jungles, and gleaming ironwork. People laughed. Children ran through the streets chasing hoops. The aroma of baking bread and roasting spices filled the air.

  "It... it looks normal," Jasmin whispered, sounding confused. "I thought it would be... darker. Scarier."

  "That is the trick," Lloyd replied softly. "Tyranny doesn't always look like a dungeon. Sometimes it looks like a very clean street."

  He stopped at a fruit stall. He picked up an apple, inspecting it with exaggerated scrutiny.

  "Look closer, Jia," he said, turning the apple. "Look at the people's eyes. Not their mouths."

  Jasmin looked around. She saw a group of men laughing near a tavern. But as a patrol of black-clad soldiers walked by, the laughter cut off instantly. The men looked down. They busied themselves with their drinks. Once the soldiers passed, the conversation resumed, but it was quieter. Stiff.

  "They are afraid," Jasmin realized.

  "Terrified," Lloyd corrected. "This city is too clean. There are no beggars. Have you noticed? A city this size always has beggars. Where are they?"

  "Maybe... they have good social programs?" Jasmin suggested hopefully.

  Lloyd snorted. "Or maybe they round them up and put them somewhere we can't see. Efficiency is the mask of the monster, Jia."

  He bought the apple, haggling over the price for five minutes just to maintain his character. The merchant was polite, overly so. He smiled, but his eyes darted constantly to the street, scanning for trouble.

  They continued walking. Lloyd led them towards the Government District, ostensibly to admire the architecture.

  Suddenly, the crowd parted. It was like water flowing around a stone. Silence rippled down the street.

  A squad of soldiers marched down the center of the road. But these weren't the regular army. They wore sleek, polished armor of black steel. Their faces were covered by featureless masks of obsidian glass. They carried no banners, made no sound other than the rhythmic thud of their boots.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "The Obsidian Eye," Lloyd whispered. "The secret police."

  People pressed themselves against the walls to let them pass. No one looked at them directly. Even the children stopped playing and stood frozen.

  Lloyd watched them with his [All-Seeing Eye]. He couldn't see through their armor—it was enchanted to block magical scanning—but he could see the way they moved. Perfect synchronization. No wasted energy. They weren't just soldiers; they were elite killers.

  One of the Obsidian Eye officers stopped. He turned his blank, glass face toward a merchant selling pottery. The merchant went pale. He began to tremble.

  The officer didn't speak. He simply pointed a gloved finger at a specific vase. The merchant hurriedly grabbed it and offered it to him. The officer took it, smashed it on the ground, and kept walking.

  The merchant didn't complain. He didn't cry out. He just bowed low to the retreating back of the officer and began to clean up the shards with shaking hands.

  "Why did he do that?" Jasmin whispered, horrified.

  "To show he could," Lloyd said, his voice cold. "To remind everyone that their property, their lives, their safety... it all exists only because the Eye allows it. It is psychological warfare. Random cruelty is more effective than consistent cruelty. It keeps people guessing. It keeps them paranoid."

  He adjusted his glasses. "This is not a happy city, Jia. It is a prison where the inmates are forced to smile."

  They moved on. Lloyd felt a simmering rage in his gut. He hated bullies. And this entire city was run by the biggest bullies on the continent.

  "Kasim," Lloyd said. "Did you see their formation?"

  Ken nodded slightly. "Standard wedge. But tight. They expect attack from all sides. They trust no one. Not even their own citizens."

  "Good," Lloyd said. "Paranoia makes people predictable."

  They reached the edge of the Government District. The buildings here were monumental. Huge blocks of black stone, imposing statues of past kings. It was designed to make the individual feel small and insignificant.

  "We need a location for the clinic," Lloyd said, turning them back toward the poorer districts. "Somewhere near the border between the rich and the poor. Close enough for the nobles to send their servants, but far enough away that we aren't under the direct gaze of the Eye."

  He scanned the streets. "There. That street. See the soot on the walls? It's near the smithies. But it connects to the main boulevard. Perfect."

  Chapter : 1479

  He pointed to a small, vacant shop with a "For Rent" sign hanging askew. It was dusty and needed work, but it had good bones.

  "That will be the office of Doctor Zayn," Lloyd declared. "Come along, Jia. We have to go haggle with a landlord. And try to look like you think the rent is too high."

  As they walked toward their new base, Lloyd glanced back at the black tower of the palace looming over the city.

  "Enjoy your control while it lasts," he thought. "Because chaos just moved into the neighborhood."

  ----

  That night, back in the safety of the Rusty Compass, the team gathered around a small table. They ate a dinner of stew and hard bread that Garris had brought up personally. The food was bland, but hot.

  "Status report," Lloyd said, pushing his bowl away. He had already checked it for poison with his Eye. Old habits died hard.

  Ken swallowed a massive piece of bread without chewing. "The Obsidian Eye has patrols every hour on the main roads. Every two hours in the side streets. They stop people at random. Check papers. Search bags."

  "Did you see any pattern to the stops?" Lloyd asked.

  "No," Ken said. "That is the pattern. Randomness. They want people to feel unsafe."

  "I... I almost lost it today," Jasmin admitted quietly. She was picking at her stew. "When that shopkeeper yelled at me."

  Lloyd raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

  "I was buying bandages," she said. "For the clinic. The man... he grabbed my arm. He said I wasn't moving fast enough. He called me a 'slow-witted northern cow'."

  Her hand clenched around her spoon. The metal bent slightly.

  "I wanted to hit him," she whispered. "I wanted to... to turn my hand into diamond and break his nose."

  "But you didn't," Lloyd said gently.

  "No. I squeaked. I apologized. I ran away." She looked up, her eyes burning with frustration. "It felt terrible. It felt weak."

  "It felt like spycraft," Lloyd corrected. "Jasmin, listening to insults without reacting is harder than fighting a dragon. Fighting is instinct. Restraint is discipline. You showed discipline today. That makes you strong."

  He leaned forward. "If you had hit him, the Obsidian Eye would have come. They would have checked your papers. They might have detained you. And then Risa would have no one coming for her."

  Jasmin took a deep breath. She looked at the bent spoon. She carefully bent it back into shape.

  "I know," she said. "I just... I hate this place. Everyone is so mean. Or scared."

  "Fear makes people ugly," Lloyd said. "It makes them lash out at anyone weaker than them, just to feel like they have some power. The shopkeeper yelled at you because he was afraid the soldiers would yell at him. It's a chain of misery."

  He stood up and walked to the window, peering through the slats. The city was dark, but he could see the torches of the patrols moving like fireflies in the night.

  "We need to be careful," Lloyd said. "This city is a powder keg. One spark and it blows. We don't want to be the spark. Not yet."

  He turned back to them. "Tomorrow, we open the clinic. I need patients. Real patients. I need to build a reputation fast. But I can't look too eager. A desperate doctor is suspicious. A busy doctor is respectable."

  "How do we get patients if we don't advertise?" Jasmin asked.

  "We create a market," Lloyd grinned. "Kasim. Tomorrow morning, before we open, I want you to go to the market. Find someone who looks like they are in pain. A limp. A cough. Someone loud. Someone who likes to talk."

  "And then?" Ken asked.

  "And then," Lloyd said, "you are going to accidentally bump into them. And you are going to apologize. And you are going to say, 'My master, the Doctor, cured my cousin of that exact same limp in two days.' And then you give them the address."

  Ken stared at him. "You want me to... gossip?"

  "I want you to plant a seed," Lloyd said. "Gossip is the fastest communication network in the world. Faster than magic. Faster than birds. You tell one person a secret, and by noon, half the city knows."

  Ken looked pained. The idea of gossiping clearly hurt his warrior soul more than physical combat. "Understood."

  Chapter : 1480

  "And Jia," Lloyd said. "When people come in, you are the gatekeeper. You tell them the Doctor is very busy. He is studying ancient texts. He can only see a few people. Make them wait. People value what they have to wait for."

  Jasmin nodded. "Scarcity creates value. I remember Master Elmsworth saying that."

  "Exactly," Lloyd said. "We are going to play hard to get."

  He looked at his team. They were tired. They were stressed. But they were focused.

  "Get some rest," Lloyd said. "Tomorrow, Doctor Zayn performs his first miracle. Let's hope it's an easy one. I'd hate to have to do brain surgery on my first day."

  He blew out the candle. Darkness filled the room.

  Lloyd lay in his bed, listening to the sounds of the alien city. The marching boots. The distant shouts.

  He thought about the Obsidian Eye officer smashing the vase.

  "Just wait," Lloyd thought, closing his eyes. "I'm going to smash a lot more than a vase before I leave this place."

  The sign above the door read "Clinic of Zayn – Holistic Healing and Herbal Remedies." It was hand-painted, slightly crooked, and perfectly unassuming. Inside, the clinic smelled of sage, alcohol, and fresh paint.

  Lloyd sat behind a small desk, pretending to read a thick book titled The Flora of the Southern Wastes. He was bored out of his mind.

  "Jia," he called out. "How many patients?"

  Jasmin, who was sweeping the floor for the tenth time, looked up. "Zero, Doctor. Unless you count the fly Kasim killed."

  Ken stood by the door, arms crossed. He looked like he was guarding the entrance to a treasury, not a small shop selling cough syrup.

  "Kasim," Lloyd sighed. "You are scaring the customers. Try to look less... lethal. Lean against the wall. Look lazy."

  Ken tried to slouch. It looked unnatural, like a mountain trying to bend. He settled for looking bored, which mostly involved staring blankly at a spot on the wall.

  "We have been open for four hours," Lloyd complained. "Where are the sick people? This is a medieval city. Everyone should be sick. It's practically a requirement."

  Just then, the bell above the door jingled.

  A man limped in. He was older, dressed in worn workman's clothes. He looked around nervously, eyeing Ken.

  "Is this... the doctor?" the man asked.

  Lloyd sat up straight, adjusting his glasses. "Indeed. I am Doctor Zayn. How can I help you, good sir?"

  "My back," the man groaned. "Twisted it hauling crates. hurts like the devil."

  Lloyd stood up. "Come, come. Sit."

  He didn't need the [All-Seeing Eye] for this. He could see the man's posture. Muscle strain. Lower lumbar.

  "Jia," Lloyd commanded. "The blue salve. And a hot compress."

  He spent ten minutes fussing over the man. He applied the salve—a simple mixture of menthol and numbing herbs he had concocted. He used a bit of massage technique from his past life.

  "Oh," the man sighed. "Oh, that's better. That's much better."

  "Apply this twice a day," Lloyd said, handing him a jar. "And do not lift anything heavier than a cat for three days."

  "Thank you, Doctor!" The man dug in his pocket. "How much?"

  "Five coppers," Lloyd said. It was cheap. Suspiciously cheap. But he needed word of mouth.

  The man paid and left, practically skipping.

  "One patient," Lloyd said. "Five coppers. At this rate, we will be able to afford a loaf of bread by next week."

  The rest of the day was a trickle. A child with a scraped knee. A woman with a headache. Lloyd treated them all with grave seriousness. He gave them teas, poultices, and advice. He was building a base.

  It was late afternoon when the carriage arrived.

  It wasn't a royal carriage, but it was nice. Lacquered black wood, drawn by two sleek horses. It stopped right in front of the clinic.

  Lloyd perked up. "Customers with money. Jia, look busy. Kasim, look intimidating again."

  The door of the carriage opened. A footman stepped out and helped a woman down. She was dressed in fine silks, though they were a bit dated. She walked slowly, leaning heavily on the footman's arm. Her face was pale and drawn with pain.

  Behind her walked a man in the uniform of a mid-level bureaucrat. He looked harried and worried.

  They entered the clinic. The bell jingled.

  "Is the doctor in?" the man demanded. He had the tone of someone used to giving orders to servants.

  "He is examining a text," Jasmin squeaked, remembering her lines. "But... I think he can see you."