Even after stepping off the metro and leaving the sea breeze behind, a part of Ignis's heart still lingered at Port Elpis.
The Salamander let out a quiet sigh and lifted his head to look at the sky above, feeling a trace of regret—or perhaps longing. He raised a hand to touch his cheek, still faintly sensing the farewell kiss left there by Jane Doe. When she saw him off at the pier, she ended it with a gentle kiss, telling him she would stay there for a while, and that he could come see her anytime he wished.
But the life of an undercover agent was never smooth. Her cover job might be gone in a few days, as long as it allowed her to infiltrate the criminal organization she was investigating. As for that apartment, Ignis was certain it was only one of several. Someone like her would have at least three or four safe houses, all kept strictly secret from anyone else.
The moon had already risen. The Salamander took out his phone—it was past nine o'clock. The air was filled with the scent of food, and the night market run by Vesmir and the others had already begun.
Ignis's stomach growled. He had barely eaten anything over the past three days. Mostly because neither of them had left the room, and Jane Doe's meager food stock was nowhere near enough to fill the belly of a Space Marine.
To be honest, he finally understood why someone once suggested Yennefer booked a hotel and stay inside with Geralt of Rivia for an entire month, hanging a "Do Not Disturb" sign on the door. When two people in love stayed together, there were plenty of things they could do—things filled with joy and overflowing affection.
But in the end, all of that still had to make way for life. Jane Doe had her mission, and Ignis had his own.
He didn't know when they would meet again.
They had only been apart for a few hours, yet the Salamander was already feeling melancholic and nostalgic. This warrior of steel had developed a crack in his iron will, and he wasn't sure whether that was a good thing.
She would be fine. And he would be fine too.
Ignis forced down the ominous thoughts rising in his mind. It was time to go home—the members of the Cunning Hares needed him as well.
Though to his surprise, no one had called him these past few days. The Salamander guessed it was Nicole's doing. That sly rabbit must have pieced something together from various signs and come very close to the truth, then ordered everyone not to disturb Ignis's "good time." And the reason she gave was probably convincing enough that the others believed it—or rather, believed Nicole.
He wondered if they had been eating properly these days. As the only chef in the Cunning Hares, his absence for several days likely meant they were back to living off takeout. Fortunately, the Cunning Hares were doing fairly well now, no longer stuck in severe financial deficit. They even had the ability to provide funding support to the orphanage.
Wait—Nicole's last donation to the orphanage had been a rather large sum. Hadn't she been complaining recently about several debts coming due? Was that really okay?
Ignis thought about these trivial matters as he walked toward his residence.
The number of roadside shops increased, and the variety became richer. Vesmir and his people had really made this place lively. Customers weren't just nearby workers—there were also young people from New Eridu's core district. Their clothing stood in stark contrast to that of the shop-owning youths: better quality, more fashionable styles, and trendier smart devices in hand. Naturally, they also spent money generously. Compared to downtown prices, things were far cheaper here, so spending came with no pressure at all. Plus, the metro station was only a few minutes away.
It had to be said—Vesmir was genuinely talented. In less than two months, he had started with a single breakfast cart selling buns and turned it into a moderately well-known night market. And judging by the several Public Security officers on patrol nearby, he clearly hadn't forgotten that angle either.
Vesmir had even begun offering initial loans to others willing to set up stalls at the night market—low-interest, or even interest-free. As for techniques, he got recipes from the Salamander, then experimented and improved on them himself. Judging from the current popularity of the night market, business was doing well across the board.
Fresh ingredients, cooked on the spot, decent flavor, and affordable prices—that was the core appeal. After a few promotions by online influencers, the place had gained traction, attracting men and women from New Eridu's core district.
Ignis spotted Vesmir. The young man already carried some air of a boss, wearing a business suit—whether or not that was appropriate for a night market. Seeing him walking with his chin raised, a few lackeys trailing behind, the Salamander couldn't help but want to laugh.
Still, he was young. After finally achieving something, a bit of swagger was understandable. As long as he didn't go back to running gangs, that was enough.
Vesmir spotted Ignis from afar and hurried over with his men.
"Boss, long time no see."
That greeting nearly made the Salamander stumble internally. You look so proper now, yet you still open your mouth with "boss"? Old gang habits really did die hard.
"How many times have I told you—don't call me that. We're not running a gang anymore. Just call me by my name. You little brat. Looks like things are going pretty well for you."
"Yes, Mr. Ignis." Vesmir nodded eagerly. "The foot traffic's been increasing lately. Those influencer 'shop visit' videos got great responses—some people are even livestreaming now. A lot of customers are coming from the city center, and they're more than happy to spend."
"Do you have a next step planned?" Ignis asked, genuinely pleased for him.
"Of course." Vesmir nodded repeatedly. "We're planning to buy a batch of better phones and set up wireless networks across the night market. We'll help some of the more distinctive stalls livestream, and also give customers a better internet experience. You know our signal here isn't great. I'm also talking with the Public Security administrative department to see if we can make this a fixed night market zone, set up better tables and chairs. Right now, most customers are sitting on folding stools—the dining experience isn't great."
"Boss, the word should be 'negotiate,'" one of the lackeys quickly corrected him.
"Right—negotiate with Public Security." Vesmir smiled sheepishly. His education level was still a bit lacking, but he didn't mind his subordinates pointing out mistakes.
"We're also planning to establish a company to manage the night market. Clearly define stall areas to avoid disputes. We can hire cleaners to reduce the burden on sanitation workers. Oh, and provide guidance to underperforming stalls—traffic boosting and the like. For influencers who come to livestream here, we'll need to manage the content properly. We might even contact them and pay a bit to give certain stalls more screen time."
Impressive. His goals were clear, and even the planning was already in place. That was good—having a formal company would make managing scattered vendors much easier. The Public Security administrative department probably wouldn't make things too difficult. After all, plenty of sham companies formed by former gangs had passed approval before. Now it was a reformed youth investing in community development by opening a food management company—there was no reason to obstruct him.
"If you run into difficulties, let me know," Ignis said with satisfaction. "If Public Security gives you trouble, I'll see if I can find someone to help. As for legal issues in your business plan, you can consult Nicole. She can help—though she does charge."
"I know." Vesmir nodded vigorously. "Nicole's been all over the news lately. Helping an old man win a lawsuit without charging anything. And that Vision Corporation case—everyone thinks Nicole's going to win."
The Vision Corporation case… damn Perlman, still no news at that front at all.
"Then I wish your company booming success, Vesmir." Ignis prepared to take his leave.
"Mr. Ignis, there's one more thing." The boy hesitated before speaking. "About Little Fisher, and that Saint Love Behavioral Correction School—do you have any news? There've been posts online recently, claiming to be students who escaped from those schools. They say they were beaten and abused inside—some were seriously injured, some even died. We're really worried about Little Fisher. There's been no news at all. He was our classmate—we just want to know if he's still safe."
"Didn't those posts catch Public Security's attention?" Ignis frowned.
"They only stayed up for a few minutes before getting deleted. Aside from some scattered screenshots, there's not much left. We tried contacting Public Security, but they said it wasn't under their jurisdiction—at least, our local branch couldn't handle it." Vesmir sighed. "Little Fisher's been missing for over two months. His parents can't even reach the teacher who took him away."
"I'll check my connections." Ignis felt this might require asking Zhu Yuan and the others. With everything involving the Ballet Twins Hollow and Razor recently, he had nearly forgotten about this matter.
"Have those Behavioral Correction School people shown up again?" the Salamander asked.
"They have." Vesmir nodded. "But this time they only handed out flyers near the metro station and didn't come close to us. When we sent people to find them, they avoided us."
"If they show up again, contact me." Ignis considered grabbing one of them alive for questioning, even if low-level staff probably wouldn't know much. "As for Little Fisher, I'll ask friends in Public Security and see if they have any leads."
"I'll be waiting for good news." Vesmir nodded with expectation.
"Boss! Boss!" A young man ran over in a panic; his apron stained with a large blotch of oil. "Someone's smashing the place! Someone's smashing the place!"
"What?" The former delinquent, gang member, and ex-leader of the Young Wolves widened his eyes. "Daring to cause trouble here—have you contacted the officers?"
Not pulling knives immediately and instead calling Public Security—he really had improved.
"Don't get impulsive, don't hurt anyone," Ignis called out as the youths ran off, reminding them repeatedly. Vesmir raised his hand high to signal that he understood.
When the Salamander pushed open his front door, a blast of cold air nearly made him stagger. They were really living it up now—the air conditioning was cranked to the max. Several women were huddled together on the couch, wrapped in blankets and watching a movie.
A scream rang out, and if Nicole hadn't been the loudest, he might have thought he'd walked into the wrong place.
"You scared me to death—it's just you." Nicole paused the movie. "Watching a horror film and someone suddenly opens the door… right at the worst moment."
Ignis looked at the ghost on the TV screen. It didn't seem that scary—just a bit bloody.
Nicole jumped off the couch and walked around him in a circle.
"Good. You came back in one piece." She grinned mischievously and whispered, "So? How's the relationship progressing? You've been gone for days—how far did it go? Did you do it?"
He knew Nicole was nosy, but asking it to his face was still a bit much.
"Well, uh, that shield of mine isn't finished yet. I've got work to do—I'll head back to my room."
Ignis hurriedly changed the subject and tried to leave.
"Looks like things went pretty smoothly. Jane Doe has a great figure—you must've been quite happy. Oh my, you're getting popular now."
Nicole whispered, elbowing him in the waist.
"Come on, tell me—where'd you go? Which hotel? Or did you find that rat's nest?"
Ignis ignored her, lowering his head and heading toward his garage. Nicole followed him, peppering him with questions until the Salamander stepped inside and shut the door behind him.
"She wasn't this nosy before…" Ignis muttered quietly as he lay back on his bed.
Still, she wasn't wrong. The past few days had been quite happy… Jane Doe's figure really was incredible… The Salamander's hand clenched and unclenched a few times, recalling certain exquisite sensations.
That damned motion jolted him awake—he realized he might be slipping too far. He quickly prayed to The Emperor, then ignited the forge.
Ignis had a new idea for the shield. He planned to add spikes to its surface, like that famous shield from an old game—the Bulwark of Azzinoth.
Just imagining smashing that thing into a heretic's face made the Salamander practically tremble with excitement.
===BREAK===
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