The carriage came to a halt at the edge of the East Market—a vast sprawl of colorful tents, merchant stalls, and clustered shops nestled under the shadow of the city's eastern wall. The sun had climbed higher, its light gleaming off brass lanterns and polished glass bottles on open counters. The scent of baked bread, incense, and alchemical smoke filled the air.
Shin stepped out, his boots crunching lightly against the cobblestones. The East Market buzzed with energy, but his stride remained steady—unrushed, unbothered, calculating.
A few minutes later, he turned into a quieter side alley where a familiar sign hung over an old brick storefront: The Dusty Cauldron Café.
He pushed open the door. A soft chime rang out.
Inside, warm lamplight cast gentle shadows across aged wood and velvet cushions. The café was modest, with few patrons this early. A barista behind the counter—an older man with sharp eyes and a crisp vest—nodded at Shin's approach.
"Black coffee," Shin said. "And an almond cookie on the side."
The man gave a curt nod and turned to prepare the order.
Shin took a seat at a small corner table near the window. He picked up a napkin from the holder, then pulled a small vial from his inner coat. Uncorking it, he dipped a finger in the nearly invisible solution and began to write in smooth, practiced strokes. The ink dried in seconds, leaving behind nothing but blank fabric.
He folded the napkin neatly and waited.
Outside, the rooftops of the East Market stretched like a maze. Shin's eyes narrowed as he spotted them—two cloaked figures sitting casually on the red-tiled rooftop of a herbalist shop across the street. They sat apart, pretending to watch the market, but their posture was too still, too purposeful.
The same informants from the kidnapping investigation.
Good. They're already in place.
Moments later, a waiter returned with the coffee and cookie.
"Thank you," Shin said, finishing the drink in a few short sips. He left the napkin with a silver coin folded inside and stood up without another word.
The bell chimed again as he exited.
A minute passed.
The back door of the Café creaked open, letting out a faint stream of warm air into the chilly morning. Just outside, in the narrow, shadowed space between buildings where the café's garbage bins were kept, the waiter stood with a half-lit cigarette between his fingers. He leaned against the stone wall, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke as he watched the quiet alley.
Footsteps approached—silent but deliberate. Two figures emerged from the deeper shadows of the alleyway.
One was tall and lean, his hood drawn low but familiar in posture. The other, stockier with a scar running down one cheek, had the faint glint of a concealed blade strapped beneath his cloak. They were the same informants who had worked with Shin during the kidnapping investigation.
Kairen spoke first, his voice just above a whisper. "What do you have for us?"
The waiter didn't flinch. He reached into his apron pocket and pulled out the folded napkin Shin had handed him minutes earlier.
Karen took it and flicked his fingers. A soft, controlled flame danced on his fingertip as he hovered it over the napkin. Slowly, the clear ink shimmered into visibility.
"Look for a cloaked person who may have been lurking near the apothecary.
Investigate any recently occupied buildings in the area. Report back discreetly."
Tolen gave a short nod.
The flame disappeared. The napkin was tucked away, and without another word, the two informants vanished down the alley.
—
Meanwhile, Shin had already turned the corner and made his way to the east apothecary.
It was larger than the one in the north, with blue-tinted windows and a well-maintained storefront. The painted sign above the door read: Elira's Enchantments & Remedies.
He entered, and the scent of lavender, charcoal, and arcane minerals filled his nose.
A young half-elf woman stood behind the counter, arranging vials on a tiered rack. She looked up as he approached.
"Good morning! Looking for something specific?" she asked with a polite smile.
Shin flashed his guild token again, letting its emblem catch the sunlight from the window.
"Guild business," he said. "Did anyone purchase unstabilized Hearth's Sting yesterday or last night?"
The smile faded. The woman's brows drew together.
"Give me just a moment," she said softly, walking to the backroom and rummaging through a thick binder of purchase logs.
Shin waited, fingers drumming once on the counter, his eyes already scanning the shop layout—every exit, every window.
A minute later, the shopkeeper returned.
"There was one purchase of Hearth's Sting yesterday evening. A small vial, unstabilized form. Purchased just before we closed at dusk."
"Who?"
She shook her head slowly, brows furrowing in thought. "The buyer wore a dark cloak, hood up the whole time. Paid in cash. Didn't speak a single word."
Shin's gaze narrowed. "Anything else you noticed?"
The woman hesitated for a second, then nodded. "There was something strange on the cloak. A faint smudge near the hem—light gray, like dried wall paint. It stood out under the lamplight. Looks recent."
Shin leaned in slightly. "Paint?"
"Yes. And… one more thing. The figure kept their head down, but when they turned to leave, the hood shifted just enough for me to see. Long hair, dark brown or black. I'm certain it was a woman."
That was enough for Shin.
"Thank you," he said, offering a small nod of appreciation before turning toward the exit.
Outside, the marketplace noise washed over him—vendors shouting, customers bartering—but Shin moved quickly through the crowd. He turned into a narrow side alley just a block from the apothecary, where it was quieter.
With a flick of his fingers, he activated a mana wire—a nearly invisible thread of energy—threading it through the air until it latched onto a faint mana signature on a nearby rooftop.
A soft hum buzzed in his ear, and a voice crackled through the connection.
"Watching the eastern block. Nothing yet," came the whisper—it was one of the informants, crouched high above, eyes scanning windows and rooftops.
"I've got something," Shin said, his voice low but clear. "Look for any building—storefront or apartment—that's been recently painted. Walls, doors, anything fresh and out of place."
"Understood," came the swift reply. The mana wire flickered once, then the connection remained steady as the informant redirected his focus.
Shin stepped back into the street, eyes thoughtful. The trail was narrowing now.