Having settled into the small inn in Beining Town, Shust and Balzac finished their meal hastily and went out, claiming they needed to find a better place for drinks. Rick, having no energy to restrain them, let them go. Manny's guards, veteran escorts from the Guild, were more proficient in defense than Rick, handling all security without his involvement. This left Rick idle, so he accompanied Manny for a chat in the inn.
But after only a short while, Rick felt extremely headache-inducing. Manny seemed obsessed with probing his past, constantly extracting tidbits about his relationships with Anna or Love. Her questioning was so subtle and relentless that by the time Rick realized he shouldn't have spoken, Manny already had the information she wanted.
"Hey, if you keep this up, I'll seal my mouth shut," Rick protested, blushing.
Across from him, Manny sipped tea calmly, smiling. "I'm just having a conversation."
"But... talking to you feels more terrifying than torture. You get everything you want out of me."
"Conversation is an art, especially for merchants. I've trained in negotiation skills since childhood, so I'm confident I can learn what I need more effectively than through torture." Manny grinned mischievously.
"But this embarrasses me." Rick downed his wine to hide his awkwardness.
This experience drastically changed Rick's perception of Manny. When he was her bodyguard, she seemed like a caged bird—harmless. Now he realized her delicate exterior hid the formidable talent of a commercial empire heir and mind-bending tactical skills. Rick was sure that if Manny wanted to scheme against someone, they'd happily count money while being sold out.
This feeling was terrifying—worse than facing Emperor Arthur's duel invitation. But why was Manny revealing this side of herself today? In the past, she'd always acted like an innocent girl. Why the sudden change?
Rick wasn't good at hiding his thoughts. Seeing his expression, Manny guessed his doubts. "Besides organizing Kester City's finances, I have another mission here."
"What's that?"
"To teach you skills beyond combat—about human nature and power." Manny shed her usual demure demeanor, exuding an unusual resolve that made Rick tense, almost forgetting he was talking to her.
But the imposing aura vanished in an instant, and Manny returned to normal, no longer intimidating.
"W-what was that...? What was that aura I just felt?" Rick was dumbfounded. He couldn't fathom how the frail Manny had exerted such overwhelming pressure.
"Eye contact and demeanor are special tools that can influence others' psychology. When you suddenly change your demeanor and gaze, others will instinctively sense it. This technique is widely used in commercial negotiations, and some formidable warriors even apply it in combat."
"Combat!" Rick sharply seized on the word. After a moment's thought, he grasped Manny's meaning. When two evenly matched opponents fight, they unconsciously memorize each other's rhythm and aura. But if one suddenly alters their demeanor and rhythm mid-battle, it disrupts the opponent's focus, creating a rare opening to strike.
"I get it—this is a useful technique. But... how do I master it?"
"Knowledge." Manny stated the word firmly.
"Knowledge?"
"Precisely. Humans evolved from animals; without knowledge, we differ little from beasts. Thus, wildness is an instinctive demeanor hidden in our bloodline—and that's the animalistic instinct you currently embody."
"Animalistic..." Rick felt embarrassed. This implied he was a brawny fool, but... it wasn't far from the truth.
"Once one acquires and masters knowledge, they transcend animalism, donning various masks. That's why erudite people are hardest to read—you never know which face is genuine. My task is to help you wear at least one more mask."
"That's deep." Rick scratched his head in confusion.
"Don't worry—we have time." Manny pulled a thick tome from her wheelchair's satchel and thumped it in front of Rick. "Our first lesson: psychology!"
"Psychology?"
"Yep. Don't underestimate it—it's profound. You can judge someone's thoughts by their micro-expressions and gestures, even without them speaking. Mastery can even approach mind-reading."
"Mind-reading! That's incredible!" Rick's eyes lit up. He never missed a useful skill, having learned map-reading from Moya, assassination from Shust, and underwater combat from Balzac. His nature was to pursue anything practical with unmatched enthusiasm.
Evidently, Manny—who'd grasped Rick's character through psychology—had lured him onto the king-making path she and Arthur had devised.
As Rick absorbed psychology from Manny, a group of strangers converged on Beining Town, casting an eerie atmosphere over the settlement. Though known for poverty and desolation, this northwestern border town served as the vital transport hub between the three cities of the Forest Domain.
To the north, Beining Town offers passage across the Tanzan Desert to Ison City, the current capital of the Tanzan Duchy, perched high in the mountains. To the south, traversing the humid mangrove forest leads to Terry County. Westward, following the broad, flat commercial road reaches Kester City.
As the most geographically complex key point among the three cities of the Forest Domain, Beining Town harbors many wanted criminals in hiding. Similarly, before the three cities unified, struggles for control of this town never ceased. This is evident from Terry County—once in control of Beining Town—deploying Monkdo, its strongest captain and an Insect Master, to garrison here.
Bang!
The door of Beining Town's finest tavern, shielding against sandstorms, was kicked open by a group in sand-proof cloaks, travel-worn. Fierce sandstorm gusted inside, prompting curses from drunken patrons.
"Welcome, sirs. Please have a seat," the tavern boy rushed forward, knowing long-distance desert travelers grew extremely irritable. He didn't want these arrogant wayfarers clashing with the tavern's violent regulars.
Still, after closing the door and seeing the rowdy crowd, he wondered: What's with all these strangers lately? Shrugging off concerns, he dashed about with trays.
But while the boy saw nothing amiss, others did. In a corner, two men guzzling wine exchanged a smile upon noticing the newcomers.
"Another batch. These declined noble heirs are idiots—couldn't they reveal their marks more subtly when entering?"
"What's the point? The tavern quieted as soon as they walked in. No one believes they're strangers."
Shust and Balzac whispered over drinks, eyeing the strangers with disdain.
In truth, they'd come under the pretense of drinking to scout the town. Given Beining Town's strategic importance, they knew the rebel families plotting against Arthur wouldn't ignore it—thus the convoy couldn't spend a quiet night here.
Choosing the best tavern played to the rebels' noble habits. Recent losers, these heirs still couldn't adapt to commoner life, so a relatively luxurious setting was likelier to yield intelligence.
Yet Shust hadn't expected the rebels to swarm into this very tavern. Now, they hardly needed to pry—glancing around revealed the situation.
"Counting this new batch, there are over forty of them. Average strength above Insect Captain—these must be elite collateral members from Houses Zarok and Ferdinand."
Shust casually drained his cup. "Heh, looks like they plotted our route. They mean to act boldly. That means Kester City's rebellion prep is nearly done. Troublesome."
"Right. Didn't expect so many. Just the two of us, fighting here puts us at a disadvantage." Balzac twirled a dinner knife, eyeing the whispering tavern-goers.
"Seems they plan to kill us, then garrison here as a forward post to block Tanzan forces from quelling the Kester rebellion."
"Then tonight's skirmish will be the opening battle."
Shust slapped his pants and stood. "Let's go. We've got the gist. I bet they'll clear the tavern soon."
As if on cue, a burly man at the bar tossed a pouch of gold beetle coins to the innkeeper and began driving out patrons.
Casually joining the regulars forced outside, Balzac spat after the door slammed shut. "Shit, that's too brazen! So annoying!"
"Heh, they won't live through the night. Let them enjoy it."
Shust burped and swaggered toward Rick's inn, clearly thrilled by the impending slaughter. He could almost smell the thick scent of blood in the air.
Late Night. Beining Town's sky remained shrouded in swirling sand, wind howling through pitch-blackness—ideal weather for assassination.
Among the town's shadowy buildings, interlacing shadows flitted through the darkness like wolves closing in on prey.
Raoul Ferdinand, the current family's second-born bastard , had been forced into this collateral operation. As commander, he oversaw this vital mission to restore family glory.
"My lord, troops are in position. Zarok forces have also entered their posts," reported a Ferdinand collateral warrior.
"Hmph, those stray dogs cooperate well." A sinister smile crossed Raoul's face, his demon-like eyes glowing green in the dark as they locked onto the shabby inn. "Hard to believe the new Sheriff and Finance Officer chose such a dump. Guess they don't thrive under that old monster Arthur."
"I hear the Sheriff was a Kester pariah a year ago, only rising after finding a scythe insect egg by luck."
"Just a scythe insect. Even training nonstop for a year, he can't be that strong." Raoul sneered arrogantly. "My battle insect is a Phantom-level blade scorpion—three ranks above a scythe insect. That useless fool who climbed via women can't compare."
"Right. How's the inn's defense? Those guards are Guild forces—our main target."
"Yellow Level 2 alert. Typical Guild defense setup, but they must not expect an attack. Defense is light."
"Is that so? Then they're out of luck."
Raoul sneered and suddenly gave the attack order. Instantly, assassins hiding on buildings around the inn swooped toward all entrances like bats flying in the night.
In Raoul's view, this should be a flawless surprise attack. The targets should have erupted in desperate screams and collapsed instantly upon being ambushed. But...
Mid-leap, the assassins' movements halted. Before any attack landed, they disintegrated into bloody chunks above the inn.
"Traps!" Raoul's mind exploded with panic. "They set aerial traps! Attack from below—charge the front door!"
Assassins converged and lunged for the sealed inn door. But before they could close in, the door swung open. A dozen fully armed warriors charged out, crashing into the oncoming assassins.
The planned assassination had erupted into all-out frontal combat—something Raoul never expected. Worse, the enemy fighters far outmatched his family warriors. Even though his side's battle insects averaged higher ranks, they were helplessly slaughtered by the opponents' skillful formations.
"How... how could this happen... How did I fail..." Raoul couldn't believe his eyes. How had so many enemies suddenly appeared? The inn's windows and side doors still had guards, who now stood watching the battle below instead of patrolling.
"There's only a dozen of them, but..." Raoul looked at the warriors clashing at the door, then at the shadowy figures inside. "Dammit, their numbers are double! I'll kill the family intelligence officer when I get back..."
"But I can't lose now..." Raoul glared at the inn. "Losing here means never returning to the family core—I'll be discarded like these collateral fools. I must kill the Sheriff to win!"
Raoul's eyes burned red with frenzy. With a beastly roar, black armor engulfed him.
"Charge in and kill him! Just kill that bastard!" The words echoed in his mind like a mantra.
"Hey, looking for me?" A voice sounded behind Raoul.
"Who?!"
Raoul whirled, his ferocious longsword aimed at the figure emerging from the darkness.
"Weren't you looking for me?" Rick stepped from the shadows, smiling calmly. "I'm the Sheriff you must kill."
"You... Why are you there? You should be—" Raoul glanced back at the battling inn.
"I've been waiting for you here a long time—before you even arrived."
Rick yawned boredly at Raoul's astonished expression. "You were so late, I almost fell asleep."
"Tra... traps... He knew our plan..."
Raoul's face turned ashen. Leading his first major operation, he realized his every move had been anticipated, shattering his confidence completely.
"I didn't expect you to turn the tables on us. But then..." Raoul pointed at the inn, shouting, "How did your numbers double out of thin air?"
"Those 'guards' at the windows are just ordinary folks we hired. Our fighters have been waiting inside."
"Ordinary people?" Raoul blinked, then grinned wildly. "So the intelligence was accurate! Your intel must be too. Heh... Clever tactics, but you shouldn't have shown yourself now. Kill you, and victory is mine!"
Roaring, Raoul slashed with twin blades like black lightning. His poisoned tail coiled behind him, ready to strike the fatal blow.
"Insect Captain Rank 3? Underestimating me..."
Rick watched the blades come without flinching, casually waving his hand. A three-meter edge sliced a blinding arc, easily chopping Raoul's blades in half.
"Insect Master!"
Raoul gaped at his broken blades, then at Rick—still not transformed. Despair swallowed his will to fight. He whirled to flee, but before his right foot landed, a purple blur materialized before him.
"Running? Not so easy!"
Rick, who'd feigned calm intellect, suddenly unleashed beastly ferocity. Under the suffocating attack, Raoul lasted one move before collapsing, knocked out.
"Pathetic—one move and done." Rick shook the unconscious Raoul, inwardly thrilled. Psychology really works! Appearing behind him as a mastermind shattered his mental defenses. Feeding him false hope kept him from fleeing. Then switching to my real combat style... He clicked his tongue. A foe I thought would take time fell in one move to this strategy.
Carrying Raoul off the rooftop, Rick savored the power of strategy. His first psychology attempt had succeeded wildly. Imagine mastering mind-reading! No one could use me as a pawn again—not Old Fox Nan Ze, not Old Monster Arthur!