Building A Business Empire From Scratch In Another World-Chapter 205: Into The Alleys

Astheria never sleeps it only shift its mask.

By day, sunlight dances over cobbled plazas where nobles glide in their lacquered carriages and merchants enthusiastically shout their prices at bustling open-air markets.

But as twilight descends, the city transforms. Lanterns flicker low, shadows stretch ominously, and secrets are exchanged faster than gold coins.

In these dark hours, is when Zephyr thrives.

Cloaked in black with his hood pulled low, he glides silently through the labyrinthine alleys of Astheria.

Here, the city's veins pulse not only with blood and wealth but also with whispers, secrets waiting to be uncovered.

And that's exactly what Felix seeks.

---

The rain had ceased earlier that evening, leaving the stones slick and shimmering under fractured strips of moonlight.

Zephyr's boots made no sound as he navigated between narrow walls, following an invisible trail known only to him.

Somewhere within this sprawling maze lay remnants of the Black Thorn,survivors, lookouts, smugglers.

He would find them. And when he did? They would talk.

At the far end of one shadowy alley, a man lounged against a barrel, puffing on a pipe that released a bitter aroma into the night air.

His eyes darted nervously at every sound while his hands twitched toward a knife sheathed at his belt.

Zephyr stepped into the dim glow of a nearby lantern; instantly, the man stiffened.

"Lost?" the smuggler growled.

With an air of boredom masking his intent, Zephyr replied flatly: "You carry messages for Black Thorn."

The man's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Without missing a beat, Zephyr dropped a small pouch onto the barrel; it jingled enticingly with coins.

Greed flickered in the smuggler's gaze but was quickly overshadowed by suspicion. "And if I do?"

Leaning closer so that shadows cloaked half his face like a veil of mystery, Zephyr whispered: "Then you'll live longer than most of them."

---

As hours slipped away like sand through fingers, Zephyr delved deeper into Astheria's underbelly.

In a gambling den hidden beneath a dilapidated tavern, he slid coins across a scarred table to an anxious dealer whose lips trembled as he revealed sightings of cloaked figures sneaking into the eastern docks.

At a brothel illuminated by sickly pink lanterns,a stark contrast to its grim surroundings,Zephyr offered up a jeweled ring to a courtesan whose painted smile faltered when she whispered about Black Thorn agents bribing her boss for silence.

In the dim light of a moldy warehouse, a pouch of silver dangled enticingly before a desperate dockhand.

The boy's resolve shattered like glass; he began to babble about strange shipments, crates painted black and marked with an ominous thorn sigil,that had been unloaded just three nights ago.

Each whispered secret was another thread in Zephyr's intricate web.

He tugged at them patiently, weaving them into a net that would ensnare the truth.

And always, he listened intently not just to the words spoken, but to the subtle cracks in voices and the darting eyes that betrayed hidden lies.

---

The final thread led him to a butcher's yard on the city's western edge.

The stench of blood hung heavy in the air, masking the faint metallic scent of iron shackles lurking beneath the floorboards.

As Zephyr stepped inside, two men were locked in a heated argument.

"…said we weren't supposed to..."

"Shut it! You want the boss to..."

They froze at the sound of creaking wood. With his hood casting shadows over his face, Zephyr entered like a specter from nightmares.

Neither man had time to react; his blades flashed through the darkness like lightning.

One screamed as he felt steel tore into hjs flesh, while the other dropped his knife, eyes wide with terror.

Zephyr pressed his remaining victim against the wall with one hand gripping his throat tightly.

"Where is Black Thorn's nest?" His voice was calm yet chillingly detached.

The man gasped for breath, stammering out half-hearted denials. Zephyr tightened his grip until color drained from his face.

"You have three breaths," he said flatly. "Each wasted costs you a finger."

Before he could even take his second breath, desperation took hold: "East Quarter! Under the tannery! Please,don't!"

Zephyr's expression remained unchanged as he released him; the man crumpled to the ground, wheezing as Zephyr melted back into night's embrace.

---

By dawn's first light, Zephyr had woven together enough threads to see a clearer picture.

Black Thorn wasn't some distant organization operating from other kingdoms, although it's influence is spread over to other places.

But they are deeply rooted within Avalonia itself, far too informed about Morningstar movements for comfort.

Intel pointed back repeatedly toward noble houses,some lesser known and some prominent but still all of them are from Noble Bloodlines.

Standing atop a warehouse rooftop with three moons lingering faintly against an awakening sky, Zephyr let his cloak flutter softly in the morning breeze.

Below him, the city buzzed with life, blissfully unaware of the watchful predator lurking above.

With eyes closed, Zephyr replayed every hushed conversation and nervous stutter he had encountered.

Black Thorn wasn't just some rogue band; they were a blade wielded by someone powerful,someone deeply woven into the fabric of Avalonia.

---

When Zephyr returned to the Morningstar Estate, dawn had already broken, bathing the walls in hues of white and gold that felt almost magical.

He stepped into the study where Felix was waiting him.

Felix sat behind a meticulously organized desk, papers stacked like sentinels beside him, his white suit as pristine as ever.

Removing his hood, Zephyr knelt slightly, his voice steady yet low: "Black Thorn is local. They're collaborating with noble houses. I've tracked their movements to the East Quarter, there's a tannery hiding one of their nests."

Felix's expression remained unchanged; he offered only the faintest nod as if Zephyr's words merely confirmed what he had already suspected.

"Good," Felix replied softly but with an edge of determination. "Then we move to the next step."

The flickering torchlight danced across Felix's composed face, casting shadows that seemed to share in his quiet confidence.