They kept chasing Iago through the dark, narrow alley. The atmosphere grew heavier as night had fallen. Iago turned right and managed to escape the alley. He emerged onto a very crowded street.
"Damn it! Where did that guy go?" shouted one of the four men.
They looked furious at losing Iago in the crowd. The street was filled with people busily buying all sorts of goods. Since it wasn't too late at night, food stalls and other shops were still bustling.
"What should we do, Boss?"
"We should've chased him right when he left the Black Horse Tavern, Boss."
"Yeah, we could've caught him if we had!"
"Are you all idiots?!" barked the man they called "Boss." "If we had chased him straight from the tavern, people would've gotten suspicious! Didn't you see how crowded it was around there?!"
"Y-you're right… Sorry, Boss."
"Yes, we apologize. We got carried away."
The boss's anger began to subside. He took a deep breath.
"It's fine, my subordinates… I am Eldric Malrik, a man who never lets his target escape! I swear I will capture that man!"
Eldric Malrik was a burly man with brown hair and a thick mustache. His sharp eyes and grim face made him look frightening.
"That's right."
"You truly deserve to fill the empty leader's seat, Boss!"
Behind them, a tavern had tables and chairs set up outside. A young man sat calmly at one of the tables, his back to them, face unseen.
"Here's your coffee, sir." A waiter placed a cup of coffee before him.
"Thank you," the young man replied briefly.
The waiter left, busy serving other customers.
"Tomorrow we must visit the Black Horse Tavern again!"
"Yes, Boss!" the three subordinates answered in unison.
After that, the four of them left, Eldric walking at the front, followed by his men. Slowly, the young man sipping his coffee turned his head back. A faint smile curved on his lips. It was Iago.
"So, they plan to go there again…" he muttered.
He raised his right hand, giving a signal. A waiter quickly approached.
"What would you like to order, sir?"
"What's the cheapest food here?"
"Hmm… the cheapest is the Commoner's Meat Soup. It has a rich broth with venison, potatoes, and carrots. It's only 7 Ravenn."
Commoner's Meat Soup? The name stung a little.
"I'll have one."
"Alright, your order will be ready soon."
After eating, Iago paid and then walked to a trash bin near the tavern. He reached in and pulled out his shabby coat. Before sitting earlier, he had tossed the coat aside so his pursuers wouldn't recognize him.
Iago then walked casually back to his inn, holding the coat in his hand instead of wearing it. Even though he had just been chased by four burly men, he looked calm, as if he were used to situations like that.
Arriving at the inn, he climbed the stairs and entered his room. Sitting on the bed, he muttered inwardly:
Phew… I made it back safely. I almost forgot my original purpose in this city. I need to find a job. My pocket money won't last much longer.
Iago stood, opened his bag, and took out his bathing supplies. He had to go downstairs to ask the attendant to prepare a hot bath for one copper coin. Unfortunately, he had to wait in line behind an old merchant.
"Hey, boy! Where are you from?" asked the merchant. His body was hunched, his skin wrinkled, his hair white, but his face was friendly.
"I'm from the countryside in the west. What about you, sir?"
"I'm a merchant from the north, boy."
"I see…"
The person using the bathroom came out.
The merchant smiled and went in.
"Well then… it's my turn now, boy."
"Yes, I'll wait."
A few minutes later, the merchant was done.
"I'll be on my way, boy."
"Yes, take care, sir."
Iago entered the fairly clean bathhouse. Sitting in the hot tub, he fell into thought.
Why were those four burly men chasing me? I really don't get it. And yet, the cold cider at the Black Horse Tavern tasted so good. Too bad… they'll be back there again.
After bathing, he stepped out. Suddenly, a woman's scream was heard from outside the inn.
"Arghhh… damn thief!"
People were running, panicked, searching for the source of the sound.
"What was that?"
"Could it be Shadow, the cunning thief, has made a move?"
"Damn it! We have to help the victim!"
Iago only glanced indifferently, heading back upstairs to his room. But before opening the door, he remembered Princess Stella, who was hunting for that thief.
Could Stella be at the scene? Did she catch the thief? Curiosity pulled Iago downstairs again.
By then, the place was quiet. The innkeeper sat smoking.
"Where did everyone go?" asked Iago.
"Humans are curious creatures… they all went to find the source of that scream."
"I see…"
"Are you going to look as well, boy?"
"No. I just want some fresh air tonight."
"I don't know if you're lying or not. But… be careful, boy! They say that thief has also killed before, though not many."
"Really? That's news to me."
"You seem calm. Aren't you afraid?"
"I don't know… I'm just curious. Besides, that scream might not even be the work of that cunning thief."
"Hmm… I knew it, you do want to look for it."
Iago chuckled softly. "You caught me, sir. Haha…"
The innkeeper took another drag of his smoke. Iago stepped outside, searching for the source of the scream. The streets were empty, the people gone who knows where. Stella was nowhere to be seen.
Soon, he found bloodstains leading into a narrow alley.
Tch… another narrow alley, huh…
He followed the trail as the blood grew heavier. At a dead end, his eyes widened, his heart pounded.
There, a mysterious figure stood atop a pile of corpses. The bodies were those of the people from the inn earlier. The figure wore a cloak, hood covering the head. The voice that came was that of a woman.
"Glad to see you, sir. It's been a long time since we last met."
"What..."
Iago was slightly shocked by the scene before him. The mysterious woman walked toward him and pulled back her hood.
"Do you still remember me, Sir?"
The woman had long black hair, red eyes, and a mischievous smile. Her figure was graceful and slender. Iago clutched his head with both hands. His eyes widened, his mouth gaped open as if about to scream. But it wasn't mere shock—there was something deeper, something long locked away, now being pried open… forcibly.
"Sir? What's wrong?"
"A-Arghh…"
His face turned pale. His hands trembled violently. His breath caught in his throat. His body shivered, as if wrapped in a cold aura from nowhere. His heartbeat grew erratic. His vision blurred.
Suddenly, the woman's voice disappeared. Replaced by screams, terrifying laughter, and whispers without a source.
"Sir?"
"ARGGHHHH…!!"
Iago screamed loudly. Horrific shadows stormed his mind. Shards of memory exploded in his brain, like fragments of broken glass. He saw himself walking through a sea of blood. Endless cries for help echoed. Darkness all around, only pools of red and the stench of death suffocating his chest.
Suddenly, dozens of eyes appeared from the darkness. Staring. Judging. Sneering. Some cried. Some cursed. Then, from the surface of the blood, his own face emerged. Its smile was horrifying. Its eyes filled with hatred.
I am you… and you are me.
"W-what do you mean?!"
Iam you… and you are me.
"I told you… What the hell do you mean?! Why does my face look like that?!"
Iago seemed to be arguing with himself.
***
Back to the year 1497. The year the mastermind of the "IV" organization was captured and executed.
"You're all wrong!"
Those were the last words of Alarion Varek before being burned alive at the stake. Thousands witnessed the fall of the "IV" organization and the demise of its leader.
Switch to a desolate mountain range called the Witch Mountains. Iago and a girl walked along the steep paths, hoods covering their heads. They found an old sorcerer sitting against a rock. His hair and mustache were white, his staff lying at his side.
"What is it, boy?" asked the sorcerer.
"I have a request."
"Are you sure, Sir?" the girl beside Iago asked.
Iago turned to her. "Yes. Don't worry, Eliana." Then he looked back at the sorcerer. "I want you… to erase my memory."
"Erase your memory? Are you certain, boy?"
"Yes."
"Do you know the consequences?"
"Huh? I don't know. What are they?"
"Your brain will feel unbearable pain as the spell is cast."
"I see… I heard that lost memories can be restored again. Is that true?"
"That is true. As long as someone very meaningful and close to you attempts to bring them back."
"Are there consequences for that as well?"
"The consequences are far worse. The pain in your brain will be even greater than the first time. That's because your brain must absorb all the lost information again. And…"
"And?"
"If you meet someone from your past who was close enough, the returning information might be too much. It could kill you."
"I see."
"May I ask, boy?"
"Go ahead."
"Why do you want to erase your memory?"
"To erase my traces."
***
The year 1500.
"AAARRGHHH…!!"
Iago screamed loudly. The narrow alley echoed with his voice.
"Sir!" shouted the mysterious woman.
Iago's legs gave out. He fell to his knees, panting, his face pale, sweat pouring down. The woman rushed to him, worried.
"Sir! Is this because of the effects of your memory restoration?"
Iago was startled. "W-who are you? How do you know that?"
"What do you mean, Sir? I am your Left Hand in the IV organization, Eliana."
"Eliana?"
Iago remembered the past in Witch Mountain. "Are you sure, Sir? Yes. Don't worry, Eliana." He began to process fragments of the returning memories.
Left Hand? In the IV organization?
"So… you're Eliana."
"Yes, Sir. I am Eliana, your Left Hand."
Iago fell silent, making Eliana even more worried. Thirty seconds passed, then a smile lifted on Iago's lips.
"Well done, Eliana."
The sudden change in demeanor confused her. But she held herself back.
"Yes… I'm glad to see you've returned," she said.
"Now, we mustn't stay here any longer."
"Alright, Sir. I have a perfect place to hide. I'll lead the way."
Though puzzled, Eliana was eager. To her, the old Iago had returned. She was about to lead, but—
"No."
Eliana was startled. "What's wrong, Sir?"
"I will return to my inn."
"But why? Shouldn't we gather with our old comrades right away?"
"Comrades?"
"Yes, Sir, you said so yourself."
But Iago's memories only went back to Witch Mountain. He didn't remember ever saying that.
"I have other business for now. You can go ahead, Eliana."
"I see… very well. Until we meet again, Sir."
Iago only smiled. Eliana left, leaving him alone in the dark alley among the pile of corpses at his hand.
Iago walked out, heading toward the inn. His left hand was in his pocket, clutching the stolen money from the corpses—about three Flor.
So I am the founder of that notorious IV organization, huh… I can't believe it. But why did I ask the sorcerer to erase my memories?
The night grew deeper. The streets were deserted. After some time, Iago arrived at the inn.
The innkeeper was still awake.
"So… how did it go, boy?"
"Bad. I couldn't find anything. It was just a waste of time." Iago chuckled softly. "Have the others who went searching already returned, sir?"
"Huh? So you didn't see them either?"
Iago feigned ignorance. "No, I didn't find them. I thought they had already arrived here."
The innkeeper's face turned pale. Cold sweat dripped down, his hands shook. Iago only smiled at him.
The innkeeper stood up. "B-boy… I'll step out for a bit. You should just return to your room and get some sleep. It's already midnight."
He walked toward the door, suspecting Iago—his guests hadn't returned, and there was a faint trace of blood on Iago's hand. As he passed Iago, he slowly turned his head.
Behind him, Iago raised a revolver. His smile was cold.
"I'm lucky this inn is so quiet." He pulled the trigger.
"Goodbye, sir…"