"Finally. The capital."
From the rise in the road, the city unfolded like a painted scroll. At first glance, it was magnificent. Grand walls of pale stone glowed in the muted light, and banners of crimson and gold swayed lazily in the breeze. Tall gates stood open like the jaws of some sleeping beast, flanked by towers where polished spearpoints glinted in the sun.
But the longer Jiyul looked, the more the shine cracked.
The walls weren't flawless. Hairline fractures spidered across the stone, patched over with mismatched mortar. The banners were faded at the edges, their frayed threads curling in the wind. Even the gates carried deep grooves in the wood where old blades had struck.
The city's noise rolled out to meet him. It was a chaotic mix of blacksmith hammers, shouting merchants, and the distant laughter of children. It sounded alive, but the air beneath it was heavy. It smelled of smoke, damp stone, and too many bodies packed behind the walls.
"It's huge. Noisy. Smells weird," he thought. "Don't know what's going to happen here. Don't know what they will think of me. But why the hell should I even care?"
He stepped forward through the gates.
"Dad, look! There's a warrior!"
A noble child's voice cut through the noise, high and curious.
"No, son," the father replied without even looking. "He's just a freaky commoner. We nobles shouldn't even speak to them."
Jiyul's eyes hardened instantly.
"This son of a bitch..."
He took a breath and forced his hand away from his sword. "Whatever. Just keep walking."
Inside, the streets stretched like veins through the heart of the city. Cobblestone paths, slick from the morning wash, were lined with shops dressed in bright cloth awnings. Everything was designed to look inviting, but the stones were uneven. Rain had carved hollows into the path, and the bright cloth hung over doorways only to hide peeling paint and water stains.
It was a city that wanted to look untouchable. To anyone else, maybe it did.
"It's too damn big. Where do I even go?"
"Hey man! Come here! We make tasty soup in the kingdom!"
A street vendor shouted at him, waving a ladle.
"Huh. I don't have anything to pay," Jiyul thought. "I should ignore him. But... I'm starving."
Something caught his eye. A poster was tacked to a nearby wooden post. The ink had bled from the rain, but the words were still legible.
Wanted: Alive or Dead. 1200 Copper.
"Oh. Should have caught this bastard earlier," he mused. "Could have eaten something hot by now. Guess I will keep an eye out. If I see him, I'll bag him. But no way I'm searching. Don't even know this dump."
The crowd pressed around him. Hawkers called out their goods, beggars mumbled for coin, and carriages creaked loudly over the stones. The smell of roasting meat mixed with the stench of open drains. It was loud. It was alive. Yet beneath it, there was something hollow, a kind of desperation masked by noise.
"First thing is first. Need a job. Something with coin. And fast."
"Oii, kid! You new here?"
Ugh. Another thug with a fake smile stepped into his path.
"Yeah. I'm new."
"Why did you come here? You look kinda weird."
"Came for work," Jiyul lied smoothly, pitching his voice to sound pathetic. "Don't got anyone. No family. No one to miss me."
The thug softened instantly. "Oh. I see. Well, good luck then."
Jiyul walked past him, suppressing a sneer.
"Heh. This guy is too nice. Why is he even working this job? He's going to die in some war or get stabbed over soup. Being good is useless in this place. I'll remember that. Kindness equals dead."
Deeper in, the street narrowed between taller buildings. Their upper floors leaned inward like they were eavesdropping on the people below. Rich silks and polished armor gleamed in shop windows, but the eyes of the shopkeepers were sharp. They weighed every passerby, deciding who was worth their smile.
"So many people. And none of them know me. Good. No fake smiles. No forced talks. I can be anyone here. Or no one. That works too."
He scanned the alleys.
"Bet someone around here hires people to kill. Maybe a back alley shop. Or a bored noble. Or some old merchant scared of thieves. Easy coin. Don't care what the job is. If it pays, I'll do it. Especially if it's dirty."
A man in fine clothes brushed past him hard, nearly knocking him over. "Oi, move aside, punk!"
"Tch. These capital punks got no manners," Jiyul thought, his hand twitching. "Should stab him. Just once. Wouldn't even need the scroll for that. Keep walking, Jiyul. Don't waste energy."
The air shifted as a breeze wound through the street, bringing the faint sound of a tavern somewhere ahead. Laughter, clinking mugs, and the soft twang of a stringed instrument drifted toward him.
"Still hungry," he grumbled. "If I get that bounty guy, I can eat for a week. Better yet, I'll take his clothes. Maybe he's got better boots."
The city was a maze. Stone alleys led to sudden courtyards, and open squares narrowed into shadowed lanes. He moved through it like he had been here before, each step measured, each glance taking in the exits.
"Wonder how many bounty targets are around here. I should just wait near a tavern. Drunk people talk too much. Maybe I'll get info for free."
He reminded himself of the new rules.
"Don't talk unless you need to. That's rule number one now. And don't trust any smiling face. Last one that smiled at me ended up with a blade in his ribs. That was a good day. Still miss that bread though."
"Focus. Job. Coin. Food. Sleep. Then strength. Then power. Then no one tells me what to do."
The city moved around him like a living thing. Merchants shouted, wheels ground against stone, and guards barked orders at street peddlers. Han Jiyul moved through it all like a shadow no one could catch.
"Let's go, freak. Let's see what this capital has got