I Tricked a God V2. Chapter 20 — Lesser Amber Street

The nightti streets of the Capital never fell silent, humming softly even far from the main avenues. The light of magical lanterns spread across the stone in a warm layer, catching on the edges of the paving and the occasional drops of water by the curbs.

Kael walked calmly along the street by the park with fountains, holding a large bottle in his hands, carefully wrapped in thick paper and tied with a golden ribbon. Everything was packaged as if it were a gift.

Violet and Dorian walked beside him, matching their pace to his. Ahead of them was Estelle, confidently leading the way along the path, occasionally casting quick glances around as if checking the route.

The fountains murmured softly to the right, scattering fine droplets. Couples sat on benches, murmuring softly to one another. Patrols moved through the area, keeping order.

Glancing around, Kael paused for a mont, his gaze lingering on one of the benches, and remarked, “There are so many couples here… I suppose this place is popular with young people.”

Estelle laughed softly, turning toward him over her shoulder as she walked.

“With young people?” she repeated, a faint spark in her voice.

Kael smiled, tilting his head slightly.

“Sorry, sotis I sound like an old man.”

Estelle only laughed, not slowing her pace, and there was no trace left of the heaviness from an hour ago in that laughter. It seed the calm of her new friends had steadied her as well.

“This park was built by a famous couple whose strong love still inspires many to this day,” she said, turning slightly toward them. “Couples co here to toss a coin into the fountain and wish for the sa kind of lasting love.”

As she spoke, she briefly gestured toward the nearest fountain, where dozens of small coins indeed glimred in the water.

“Others use this story to make a profit,” she added, gesturing toward a row of neat restaurants and cozy establishnts along the park.

From one of them ca the clink of glasses and muted laughter, blending with the steady sound of water.

“I still don’t understand…” Dorian said, frowning as he nodded toward the bottle in Kael’s hands. “Why did you buy such an expensive infusion?”

Kael briefly glanced at the wrapping, running his thumb lightly along the edge of the golden ribbon, but said nothing.

Estelle, however, quietly muttered, “I was more surprised that Kael parted with his mana elixirs so easily…”

“It’s not my place to count your money…” Dorian continued, shifting his gaze to Kael. “But I hope you know what you’re doing.”

He spoke calmly, without reproach, but still narrowed his eyes slightly, as if trying to understand what exactly Kael had in mind.

At that mont, Estelle, checking a crumpled piece of paper in her hand as she walked, suddenly stopped mid-step.

“We’re almost there. This way.”

She pointed toward a turn off to the side, where another street branched away from the park and its lit restaurants, sloping upward. The lantern light there was brighter, and the noise thicker. Signs lined both sides of the street, and crowds of young people gathered along the road, laughing and calling out to one another.

Dorian slowed, letting his gaze slide over the street signs nailed to the corner of a building.

“Lesser Amber Street?” he muttered, then looked at Kael. “Are you sure the place we need is here?”

“What’s the problem?” Kael asked calmly, not slowing his pace.

Estelle frowned slightly, glancing at the paper again as if double-checking the address.

“I’m not so sure either…” she added quietly. “Lesser Amber Street is very popular among young mages and Academy students.”

For a second, her gaze lingered on a noisy group near the entrance to one of the places, where soone was arguing loudly, waving their hands.

“It may not be the most prestigious place to rent… but the rent here is expensive. It’s probably beyond what we can afford…”

At that, Kael only smirked faintly, sweeping his gaze over the noisy street.

“A place fitting for that drunkard…” crossed his mind.

But aloud, he only said calmly, “Seems you’ve built it up too much. Better not expect a beautiful, cozy house in good condition.”

He stepped forward, gently taking the lead, and, nodding toward Lesser Amber Street, gestured for Estelle to continue.

“As I said, the old man needs money, so he’ll give us a good discount,” he added, glancing around. “And this street isn’t far from the Imperial Academy, which is very important for us.”

A noisy group of students passed by them; soone bumped into Dorian’s shoulder and imdiately, swaying slightly, apologized, “I had a bit too much. Sorry, buddy…”

Dorian, for his part, only gave a brief nod and, a mont later, quickly began wiping the spot on his clothes where the stranger had touched them.

Kael, anwhile, continued speaking, only lightly smirking at Dorian’s reaction.

“Our main goal is to get the best price we can and push for a delayed paynt.”

Dorian slowly turned to Kael and asked, “Are you sure a deferred paynt will save us? What if we can’t gather enough money? It’s better not to stay in debt in the Capital…”

Kael only narrowed his eyes slightly, and a spark of confidence flickered in his amber eyes.

“Money isn’t a problem. It can be earned, which ans we just need to co up with the most profitable way to earn it…” he replied calmly.

At those words, both Dorian and Estelle froze for a mont, missing a step. The sa doubt flickered in their eyes—it was unclear whether Kael was reckless or simply too confident.

Violet, watching this, only smiled faintly, not intervening.

“Kael never changes…” flickered through her mind. “They’ll have to get used to his eccentricities…”

With that, they moved on, going deeper into Lesser Amber Street. The crowd here grew denser, almost unbroken, and they had to walk closer together to avoid getting separated.

Laughter, loud conversations, and the clatter of dishes from open windows filled the air. Young mages filled the street—so already clearly drunk, others just beginning their evening. The air carried a mix of alcohol and sweet smoke.

Several people stood by the wall, smoking long, curved pipes with carved mouthpieces, with thin streams of smoke lazily trailing from them. Others had shorter, heavier pipes with ornate inlays, as if they were ornants in their own right.

Taking all this in, Kael had a thought that kept surfacing in his mind: “If I judged by the Capital alone, I’d never guess the Empire was in a constant state of war…”

Walking up the street, he smirked faintly with irony, adding ntally, “The chronicles don’t lie. Troubles always reach the capital last. And it doesn’t matter which part of the Mortal World it happens in…”

Moving forward, Kael calmly looked around, not slowing his pace, as if taking in every detail.

The buildings here stretched in a dense line, mostly two or three stories high, nearly pressed against each other, forming an almost unbroken wall. Only occasionally did narrow alleys break the line, leading further inward.

Glancing into one of them, Kael noticed it wasn’t just a passage—inside was a small courtyard, just as lively. The light from signs fell over tightly arranged tables, and against the wall stood a stall with goods hanging on display.

He shifted his gaze further, noting such places almost automatically.

“It’s quite noisy here…” crossed his mind as loud laughter and the clink of glass sounded sowhere nearby. “We’ll need to set up a sound-dampening magic circle in the rooms…”

At that mont, Estelle’s voice ca from ahead, “Kael, we’re here. That alley.”

She stopped and pointed toward one of the passages between the buildings.

Everyone turned instinctively, following her gesture.

On the other side of the street was a similar “tunnel”—a narrow alley leading inward to a closed inner courtyard. But unlike the others, this one was blocked by a heavy tal door. From behind it ca no voices, no familiar noise—only a muted silence that stood out from the general hum of the street.

Kael straightened his shoulders slightly, holding his gaze on the door.

“I hope the owner is ho,” he said calmly.

Without waiting for a reply, he stepped forward confidently, crossing the street through the flow of people. The others exchanged glances and followed, quickening their pace to keep up.

The door was set unevenly, leaving fairly wide gaps on the sides. Through them, part of the courtyard was visible. And as soon as Kael approached the door, he took advantage of it.

Leaning slightly, he peered inside with one eye.

Behind the door was a short arched passage, only a few steps long, leading deeper inside. Beyond it opened an inner courtyard—spacious, but neglected. Crates, old planks, and trash were scattered everywhere, piled haphazardly, as if all unwanted things had been dumped there.

A little further on, small steps led up to the house.

The two-story stone building looked worn: darkened walls, uneven masonry, closed windows with no light behind them. It felt abandoned, as if it were trapped within this inner courtyard, barely receiving any light at all.

“Judging by the layout, this arched passage is the only way in…” Kael muttered thoughtfully.

But at that mont, Kael felt Dorian almost squeeze in beside him, leaning toward the gap and peering inside.

“Looks neglected…” he murmured with faint sympathy, wrinkling his nose slightly.

Kael, without taking his eyes off the house, smirked faintly.

“Don’t tell even you couldn’t breathe life into this building.”

The answer ca imdiately, without hesitation: “If I can live here instead of in the Student Quarter, thanks to you…” Dorian leaned forward slightly, as if estimating the scope of work. “I’m ready to beco the butler of our little dorm…”

Estelle called from behind, “What do you see, boys?”

They almost simultaneously pulled back from the gap, straightening up.

Kael gave a crooked smile, running a hand over the back of his head.

“There’s no light in the windows. That ans Barnabas is either asleep or hasn’t co ho yet…”

Violet, not waiting for him to finish, calmly stepped up to the door and, without hesitation, pressed the handle. It gave a dull clank but didn’t budge.

Kael glanced at it briefly, then let out a heavy breath.

“I misjudged things…” he said, lowering his gaze to the tal surface of the door. “I didn’t think we wouldn’t be able to knock on the door.”

He fell silent for a mont, then slightly turned his head toward the others.

“Looks like all we can do is wait… Sorry, guys.”

But at that very mont, just as the words left Kael’s lips, a drunken voice rang out nearby—so loud it drowned even the noise of the street.

Kael’s brow twitched almost imperceptibly.

He recognized that voice imdiately—or rather, the carefree and slightly brazen manner of speaking.

Turning his head, he saw Barnabas. The old man, in rumpled clothes and a cap slipping to one side, staggered down the street, swaying from side to side with a wide, satisfied grin on his face. He walked without paying attention to anyone around him, singing at the top of his lungs:

“HEY! Fill it up—don’t you slow my hand!

Tonight I’m a prince—tomorrow dust and sand!

Had a girl—hah! She ward, then she ran,

Had so gold—drank it down with my friends!”

He burst into loud laughter, jerking his hand as he walked and adjusting his cap, which imdiately slipped sideways again.

“But this bottle—now this one stays true,

Won’t lie, won’t leave—sees the whole night through!

Hey, pretty eyes, don’t you cut like that,

I’d take you upstairs… but the drink’s where I’m at!”

“DRINK! DRINK! till your head goes numb!

SING! SING! till your tongue goes numb!

Tonight we’re kings—tomorrow we crawl,

So laugh, you bastards—it’s nothing at all!”

So passersby snickered, others turned away in irritation, but Barnabas seed only more encouraged.

“Who’s that laughing? Co drown in your ale!

I’ve crawled through worse nights—and still lived to tell!

Priests may preach and the high lords pretend,

But the bottle’s the only true friend in the end!”

“So pour, my sweet ruin, don’t smother the fla,

While the song’s still alive—I’m still in the ga!

And when I lie cold, don’t waste a tear,

Just drink to my na… like I’m still bloody here!”

With the last words, he nearly slipped, his foot sliding out from under him, and staggered a few uneven steps, struggling to keep his balance.

And just before falling, he threw his hand forward just in ti, slapping it against the wall—right beside Kael and the others.

Finally finding his footing, Barnabas smirked as his cap slid completely onto his shoulder.

Leaning against the wall and staring at the ground, the old man burst into satisfied laughter, his shoulders shaking.

“Oh-ho… now that’s what I call getting smashed…” he muttered, stroking his beard with his free hand, as if savoring his condition.

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At that mont, Kael only gave a crooked smile, closing his eyes for a second. That smile no longer held his earlier confidence—only a hint of doubt, as if he himself had begun to reconsider his plan.

Judging by the looks of the others, everyone noticed Kael’s reaction.

Estelle glanced at him cautiously, then looked back at the old man, clearly not entirely believing what she was seeing.

“Kael…” she began, a little quieter. “Don’t tell this is…”

She didn’t finish, but Kael gave a short nod, awkwardly twitching the corner of his mouth.

“You’re right…”

But in the very next mont, sothing made Estelle and Violet turn away almost in unison, instantly flushing.

Barnabas, paying absolutely no attention to those around him, began fumbling with his belt, starting to lower his pants.

“Damn it… gonna piss myself…” he muttered, swaying in place.

Kael grimaced sharply and stepped closer, and for the first ti there was clear irritation in his voice: “Old man, have so decency. You’re practically at your own doorstep. Hold it a little longer…”

Barnabas froze for a second, then slowly turned his head, trying to focus his eyes. His eyes drifted slightly out of focus, but he stubbornly squinted at Kael.

The pause stretched on for a mont.

Then his gaze dropped lower—straight to the large bottle in Kael’s hands.

The old man’s face broke into a wide, almost childlike grin.

“It’s you, kid!” he shouted, suddenly perking up. “It hasn’t even been a few days, and you’ve already decided to visit !”

He even straightened up, forgetting what he’d been about to do.

“I knew it—we’re bound by fate!”

Kael raised an eyebrow slightly, looking at him.

“A few days? Old man, we t a few hours ago.”

Barnabas didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest.

“Separation from you is too bitter. A minute counts as an hour!” he declared, bursting into loud laughter as he pulled his pants back up and sohow managed to tighten his belt.

Turning toward the door, he took a couple of unsteady steps, but this ti managed to keep his balance.

“Hah, didn’t even notice I was already ho!” he added cheerfully.

Pulling a key from his pocket, Barnabas didn’t bother looking for the keyhole—he simply jabbed it at the door. The tal glimred softly for a mont, as if responding, and almost imdiately a clear click sounded.

He turned back to Kael, squinting.

“So, did you co to see , or is this just a coincidence?”

Kael lightly tilted the bottle in his hand, and the golden ribbon rustled softly.

“I wouldn’t buy such expensive alcohol for myself. But you’re a different matter. You can’t be stingy when visiting the greatest drunk in the Capital.”

Barnabas burst into laughter again, thumping his chest with satisfaction.

“Not in the Capital—in the entire Empire!”

The old man narrowed his eyes, tilting his head.

“So you’re interested in my offer after all?”

“We’ll have a drink, talk—and then we’ll see,” Kael replied calmly.

Barnabas smirked, clearly pleased with that answer.

“If you want to bargain, just say so—no need to ss with my head.”

Waving them along, he called out casually, “Enough standing at my gate. Let’s go have a drink!”

With those words, Barnabas flung the door open and, without looking back, strode inside, swaying slightly but far more steadily than a mont ago.

Watching Barnabas’s steps grow steadier, Kael noted to himself, “It feels like this old man sobers up at an inhuman rate. It seems his body has developed a resistance to alcohol, as if it were so kind of poison…”

With that thought, Kael gave a short nod to his companions, signaling that everything was fine, and followed. The others went after him without a word.

As soon as they took a few steps, the door behind them shut on its own with a dull sound, as if cutting off the noise of the street. The murmur of the crowd imdiately dulled, remaining sowhere outside.

After walking a few steps through the arched passage, Kael stepped into the inner courtyard and paused for a mont.

What had previously seed like just a dump now looked different. The crates and piles of things were neatly covered with thick cloths, their edges weighed down with stones so the wind wouldn’t blow them away.

Kael narrowed his eyes slightly, examining it more closely.

“If you give us a good discount, we’ll help you clear out all this junk…” he said calmly.

Barnabas snorted without even turning around.

“It’s not junk. Those crates hold disassembled tables and chairs.”

Kael slowed for a mont, and a flicker of understanding crossed his eyes.

“Chairs?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly. “Was this place once a tavern?”

At those words, a warm smile spread across Barnabas’s face, and for a brief mont, his drunken carelessness seed to fade.

“Exactly,” he replied, nodding slightly. “I told you—I inherited this place…”

He slowed his pace, letting out a heavy sigh, and for a second ran a hand over his beard.

“It was my favorite tavern…” he muttered more quietly. “And its owner was an outstanding woman.”

His voice grew steadier, without its earlier bravado.

“After her death, the tavern was left to , but unfortunately…” he gave a crooked smile, “I’m not very good at running such a business…”

Kael caught the mont, not interrupting, and only after a brief pause calmly added, “I understand… my parents have a family restaurant, so I know how difficult that kind of work is.”

Barnabas turned to Kael in surprise, even slowing down slightly.

“I thought you were of higher birth…” he said thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes and studying Kael’s face more closely.

“Why would you think that?” Kael replied calmly, without changing his expression.

The old man held his gaze for a second, then suddenly burst out laughing, waving a hand as if dismissing his own words.

“Just seed that way to .”

He imdiately changed the subject, perking up, and his step beca a little more energetic.

“Maybe I’m bad at running a business, but when it cos to alcohol—I’m a master! The cellars are still very much alive!”

Kael cast him a sidelong glance, noting the sudden shift, and with a faint smirk asked, “You make your own alcohol?”

Barnabas nodded proudly, straightening his shoulders as if growing taller.

“Yes—and of excellent quality! Connoisseurs line up just to buy even a single bottle of my liqueurs.”

As he spoke, he even raised a finger, as if emphasizing the importance of his words, then puffed out his chest with pride.

“Do you think I drink for no reason? No! Every day I go around tasting drinks…” he paused, shaking his head with a satisfied smile. “Getting inspired for new recipes!”

Kael only gave a crooked smile, not interrupting, though his gaze grew slightly condescending for a mont.

“Yeah… sure. You’re just a drunkard…” crossed his mind.

However, almost imdiately, that thought was replaced by another, and a brief spark of interest flickered in the depths of his eyes as he studied the old man more closely.

“On the other hand… this might work in my favor…”

At that mont, they reached the house, and without slowing down, Kael was the first to step onto the stone steps.

The steps at the entrance were worn smooth, and as he shifted his weight forward, Kael noted it—once, this place had been packed with visitors.

Lifting his gaze, Kael involuntarily slowed, studying the building before him more carefully.

The house was wedged so tightly between neighboring buildings that only a small patch of the night sky was visible above, as if the space itself had been crushed. Almost no light reached it, and the facade was lost in shadow.

The darkened stone was cracked in places, the old plaster peeling away to reveal rough, uneven masonry. Above the entrance hung a faded wooden sign—the inscription reduced to faint traces, as if ti itself had erased it.

The second-floor windows were tightly shuttered, with no gaps, and the wrought iron lantern brackets stood empty.

The heavy door creaked open inward.

The old man stepped inside first without even looking back, only waving his hand carelessly, and the chandelier lit up.

Kael crossed the threshold, and almost imdiately a heavy sll hit him—old wood, stale alcohol, and a faint dampness lingering in the enclosed space.

A spacious hall opened up before him.

Directly opposite the entrance stretched a long counter, cluttered with bottles, mugs, and so kind of distilling equipnt. The glass glimred dully, and old stains could be seen on the wood, so deeply embedded that they could no longer be removed.

Behind the counter were shelves—so empty, others filled with dusty dishes, as if they hadn’t been touched in a long ti.

The tables in the hall stood uneven; so had been pushed toward the walls, as if soone had once started clearing them but never finished. So leaned crookedly on a single leg; others stood in tight rows, leaving the gaps between them far too narrow.

So of the chairs were missing, and Kael involuntarily recalled the crates in the courtyard, ntally putting it together.

To the left, a passage leading down to the cellars lay in shadow, from which cool, faintly damp air drifted, while to the right, a wooden staircase led to the second floor—slightly warped, with worn steps, but still sturdy in appearance.

Barnabas, without stopping, snapped his fingers.

Along the walls of the hall, lamps with embedded crystals lit up one by one, casting a soft light across the walls. The dim glow of the chandelier overhead blended with them, and the room suddenly took on a strange, almost forgotten sense of coziness.

Dorian looked around, lingering on the counter, then on the staircase, and quietly muttered, “There’s still life in this place… It just needs care and attention…”

Barnabas seed either not to hear those words or simply chose not to respond. He only waved his hand and, without slowing down, headed for the bar counter.

Bending down, he rummaged under it and soon pulled out several glasses—surprisingly clean, as if they were still used regularly despite the overall neglected state of the hall.

“Co on over, students,” he laughed, setting them on the counter.

With a wave of his hand, he activated a spatial ring, and for a mont a faint glimr flashed in the air. The next instant, with dull thuds, pieces of dried at, several wheels of cheese, and bundles of sausages landed on a wooden board.

Barnabas imdiately drove a sharp knife into the board, leaving it standing upright.

“Take whatever you want. Don’t be shy.”

Estelle and Violet hesitated for a second, awkwardly exchanging glances, as if they weren’t used to it.

Kael picked up on it imdiately. Stepping forward, he carefully placed his bottle on the counter and, turning his head slightly, said, “Mind slicing sothing up, Dorian? The girls feel a bit awkward.”

Dorian gave a short nod, pulled the knife from the board without a word, and began slicing the at into thin, neat pieces.

Barnabas watched this with a wide grin, shaking his head.

“You’re all so delicate…” he muttered in a drunken voice.

Kael only smiled faintly in response, calmly removing the wrapping from the bottle and uncorking it.

“You could use a bit of care yourself, old man,” he said evenly. “If you keep living like this, you’ll end up dead. And when you go, this tavern goes with you.”

Barnabas narrowed his eyes, and a sharpness flickered in his gaze that didn’t match his state at all.

“Don’t try to sweet-talk , kid,” he drawled. “I know what you’re after… I’m not about to lose my money for nothing.”

Kael only smiled, pouring the drink into five small glasses; the liquid splashed softly against the glass.

“Don’t think I’m so kind of swindler,” he said calmly, setting the last glass on the counter.

After holding Barnabas’s gaze for a mont, he imdiately added, “I’ll be honest—I’m interested in renting your house. But right now, we’re broke.”

Barnabas only smirked, picking up his shot, and without asking any further questions, nodded to the others.

“To our eting!”

He downed the shot in one motion, not even grimacing, only exhaling sharply through his nose.

Kael and Dorian followed without hesitation, setting their empty shots on the counter almost at the sa ti.

Estelle and Violet hesitated for a mont, exchanging glances, but still raised their shots and drank. The reaction ca instantly.

“What is this…” Estelle exhaled, grimacing sharply.

“My throat…” Violet muttered, pressing a hand to her neck.

Both imdiately reached for the food, grabbing slices of cheese, trying to dull the burn.

Barnabas, watching this, gave a satisfied snort, setting his empty glass on the counter with a light clink.

“And why should I care that you’re broke?” he muttered, straightening his shoulders slightly, as if reminding them he was the owner.

He slowly swept his hand around, indicating the house.

“There are ten rooms upstairs. There’s a kitchen, a small bath with hot water. Part of the basent is empty and can be used for training or anything else. And the house is close to the Academy.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin slightly.

“Two hundred fifty silver a month. And that’s only because I like you, kid.”

Dorian and Estelle raised their brows almost simultaneously.

“Kael… the price really is…” Dorian began, frowning.

But Kael imdiately raised a hand, gently but firmly cutting him off.

Kael smiled amiably, not lowering his raised hand, and tilted his head slightly.

“What if we cleaned the place up?” he asked calmly. “If it were clean, and you always had ho-cooked als?”

Lifting the bottle, he poured Barnabas another without hurry, the thin stream filling the shot glass once more.

“That’s the sa as hiring a personal cook and a cleaner…” he continued, as if reasoning aloud. “Even at half the standard rate for their work, you could knock about fifty silver off the rent…”

Raising his glass, Barnabas imdiately laughed, saying, “Why would I pay for things I don’t need? I’m doing just fine as it is.”

Kael did not argue, as if he hadn’t even heard the objection, only gave a slight shrug and continued in the sa calm tone, “And I could also offer you sothing no one else in the Capital can…”

Barnabas raised a brow, casting him a sidelong glance.

“What kind of childish provocation is that?”

Kael answered imdiately, not letting the pause linger, “I told you—my family has a restaurant.”

For a mont, he held the old man’s gaze, then added as if in passing, “We also have many recipes for liqueurs and wine. Recipes straight from beyond the Central Dragon Mountains—ones no one in the Capital has.”

The words were spoken calmly, but the effect was imdiate.

Barnabas’s eyes seed to flare, he leaned forward slightly and unconsciously licked his lips, now looking at Kael very differently.

Noticing this, Kael narrowed his eyes, leaning slightly toward the counter.

“Who knows…” he added quietly. “Maybe we could reopen this tavern and start selling alcohol the Capital has never seen…”

He lightly tapped his fingers against the wood of the counter, not taking his eyes off him.

“You may not be good at running a business, but if we move in, you won’t be alone.”

And the mont Kael voiced that thought, he saw its appeal himself. At first, he had said it only to win over the old man. But now…

“That’s not a bad idea… I know plenty of recipes from all across the Mortal World…” Kael muttered inwardly.

Barnabas raised his shot, glanced briefly at the liquid, and tossed it back in one motion without even letting it touch his tongue. He hadn’t even set the empty shot on the counter before Kael poured again, not giving him a chance to pause.

The old man exhaled noisily, running his tongue over his lips, and another emotion began to surface in his eyes—not just drunken cheer, but sothing alive, sharp.

It was as if sothing stirred within him.

“If the ‘rry Drunkard’ were to co back to life…” he muttered, looking slightly aside, as if not at the hall but sowhere deeper. “And started taking in guests again… She would be glad…”

For a mont, his voice grew quieter, almost sober.

Kael picked up on it imdiately.

Leaning forward slightly, he spoke more softly now, but more deliberately, as if guiding his thoughts in the right direction.

“Think about it, old man… Cleanliness, comfort, ho-cooked food, new alcohol recipes…” he tapped a finger lightly on the counter, setting the rhythm of his words. “And even the revival of the tavern.”

He paused for a mont, letting the words settle, and added, “Of course, if we succeed, you’ll receive most of the inco. You’ll be able to earn far more than you lose by giving us a discount…”

With those words, he picked up Barnabas’s shot himself and held it out to him.

The old man didn’t take it right away, pausing for a second as if he were no longer there, lost in his thoughts. Then he slowly wrapped his fingers around it and gave a faint smirk.

“Alright…” he drawled, swaying slightly. “Two hundred silver. Not a coin less than that.”

He narrowed his eyes, returning his gaze to Kael, a hardness flickering in his eyes again.

“But if you’ve deceived … and your promises turn out to be lies—I’ll throw you out onto the street in no ti!”

Kael imdiately brightened, as if that was exactly what he had been waiting for.

“Deal!” he exclaid, thrusting out his hand.

Barnabas snorted, but without hesitation clasped it in return, firmly, with an old man’s grip.

“Deal…”

However, a mont later, he noticed that Kael was not in a hurry to loosen his grip. The young man’s fingers remained tightly closed around his hand.

The old man narrowed his eyes, about to say sothing, but didn’t get the chance.

“And we’ll also need a month’s delay on the paynt,” Kael added calmly.

“You’ve got so nerve!” Barnabas barked, jerking his hand so sharply that so of the alcohol from the shot in his other hand splashed onto the counter.

But Kael still did not let go.

Leaning forward slightly, he spoke in the sa calm tone, but now with an edge, “I sold everything I had to buy this liqueur. If I wanted to swindle you, I wouldn’t be acting this sincere.”

He held the old man’s gaze for a mont, not allowing him to look away.

“Wasn’t it you who said we were bound by fate?” he added quietly. “Are the words of the greatest drunk in the Empire worth less than so miserable two-hundred-silver advance?”

Barnabas grimaced, twitching the corner of his mouth, barely hiding his irritation.

He looked at Kael a mont longer than needed, as if weighing not his decision but Kael himself.

“Damn… You’re an even bigger swindler than I am!” he finally shouted. “You took my openness and used it against !”

But the very next second, the old man suddenly burst into loud laughter, so suddenly that even his shoulders jerked.

“The soul truly shapes a person’s character!” he declared, gripping Kael’s hand tighter and giving it several shakes.

All the tension seed to vanish in an instant.

“Alright…” he drawled, still smirking. “I like you—so I’ll trust you.”

Feeling Kael finally release his hand, Barnabas gave a self-deprecating grimace, rubbing his fingers.

“We’ll sign the contract tomorrow. I’m so drunk I can’t even sign my na…”

He laughed again, louder this ti, spreading his arms wide.

“Welco to your new ho!” he shouted. “But if in a month I don’t have two hundred silver more in my pocket—you’ll be out just as fast!”

Kael only let out a relieved breath and nodded gratefully.

“Don’t worry, old man. The money will co.” At the sa ti, Kael gave a sly smirk and added with a sly grin, “Who knows, maybe thanks to you’ll be famous for more than just talk.”

Barnabas shot him an irritated look, but imdiately burst into laughter, replying, “You’re not short on confidence, pup.”

Behind them, Dorian and Estelle exchanged glances, clearly not quite believing it had all gone so smoothly.

Dorian even perked up, stepping forward. Looking around the hall more closely, he asked eagerly, “Can I start cleaning now?”

Barnabas imdiately raised a brow, as if hearing sothing absurd.

“Of course not!” he shouted. “You ca here to drink, so we’re going to drink! You can deal with your chores tomorrow.”

He narrowed his eyes with a sly look at Kael, the corners of his lips curling upward.

“Pour, Kael. We’re drinking until morning. A few shots won’t cut it…”