No More Pain For This Villain.

Chapter 90 Illicit Business.

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[Devon Wildborne's POV]

As I approach the outskirts of the Reva Kingdom, a hidden gem reveals itself—an urban village tucked away amidst rolling hills and meandering rivers. The streets, paved with cobblestones, wind through tightly packed buildings, creating an intimate atmosphere that draws me in.

I can't help but be enchanted by the village's charm. Colorful facades and inviting storefronts line the narrow streets, each building exuding its own character. The architectural styles vary, showcasing a blend of influences that mirror the diverse backgrounds of the villagers. Delicate tendrils of ivy crawl up the walls, while vibrant flower boxes add splashes of color to the windowsills.

"Finally, I have arrived," I said, stepping into the village square. I'm greeted by a vibrant marketplace. The air buzzes with the animated chatter of vendors and the enticing displays of their goods. Fresh produce, handmade crafts, and mouthwatering delicacies vie for attention at the bustling stalls. The scent of freshly baked bread and brewing coffee wafts through the air, making my mouth water and drawing me further into the lively scene.

The villagers, known for their close-knit community, carry on with their daily routines. Warm greetings and friendly banter fill the air as they go about their tasks. From the friendly baker kneading dough in the corner shop to the children joyfully playing tag in the streets, the village pulses with a sense of togetherness and contentment.

"I missed this environment a lot," I muttered. I've been away from my base for too long.

Despite its small size, the urban village surprises me with its range of amenities. Cozy cafes beckon me to step inside and savor a steaming cup of tea or indulge in a slice of homemade pie. Quaint bookshops line the streets, their shelves holding literary treasures waiting to be discovered. Art galleries proudly display the works of local talents, adding a touch of creativity to the village's ambiance.

Yet, beneath the surface of this seemingly ordinary village lies a hidden secret—well.

I went to the end of the village, and there, amidst a barren land, stood a timber mansion, barely hanging on amidst the damage caused by weather and lack of maintenance.

I walked up to the mansion and knocked on the door. After a few seconds, someone opened the door and said, "Oh! Master Devon, we were worried that something might've happened to you. It's great to see that you are doing fine," said the butler, Leopold.

He possesses a dignified countenance with piercing amber eyes and a silver-gray mane. His attire consists of a tailored black suit, complemented by white gloves.

As a member of the beastmen race, his appearance reflects a harmonious blend of human and lion features.

"You don't have to worry that much, y'know. Those bastards won't be able to catch me. I do admit that this time it was hard for me to get out of the mess, but a certain human body did help me," I replied. I do remember the face of the boy I met a few months back... He was... I don't know what kind of person he is, even after using my ten years of experience. I tried to use every method in my pocket but he never revealed anything more than necessary.

"Human boy?" Leopold showed a confused expression.

"I'll tell you, but first, let's go inside. I don't want anyone to know that I've returned." I used a mana concealing cloak while entering the village, but who knows who might be watching.

After that, we entered the mansion. From the inside, the mansion is not in the best shape, but it's still in better condition than outside.

"Boss!" Someone tapped me roughly on the back, and I turned, only to see a tiger-faced brother.

"Sup, Tiga!" I greeted him in his specific manner. It's a little impolite, but there's no point in giving respect to this guy.

"The shipment came a few days back, but we haven't checked anything since you weren't here. I wanted you to take a look before we sent it to the Hestia Empire's Duke," he reported.

Yeah, these past few days have been too exhausting that I haven't even thought about such an important shipment at all.

"Let's get it done as soon as possible. Those aristocrats are not ones to make an enemy out of." I don't want them to get a bad impression of me at all.

...

As I walk along the narrow route, I can't help but feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere. It's the underground basement of this mansion that we use to store the shipment material all these years. Being this close to No Man's Land, the patrollers never came this far to investigate anything.

"Tiga? Did you kill someone in the cellar?" I asked, as the stench of a rotten corpse reached my nose.

"Nope, boss. I haven't. Why would you even think I'd kill someone here? You know how hard it is to clean up the mess after," Tiga replied. Yeah, this guy's a messy killer, and that's why I don't like him at all.

The only thing that keeps me from firing him is the fact that he's....my step-brother. My old man messed up big time when he was alive.

Descending further, we walked through the narrow cellars.

As I navigated the familiar twists and turns of the cellar, the musty scent and dim lighting brought back a flood of memories. The shelves and crates held a mosaic of hidden treasures and forbidden goods, all carefully organized and concealed. The rough stone walls seemed to hold secrets of their own, whispering tales of past transactions and covert meetings.

Despite the eerie atmosphere, I felt a strange comfort in this underground sanctuary. It was a place where I had spent countless hours, overseeing operations and ensuring the smooth flow of our business. The uneven ground beneath my feet felt like a familiar path, guiding me through the shadows towards our hidden treasures.

The occasional rays of sunlight that filtered through cracks in the walls painted patches of warmth amidst the darkness. The soft sounds of dripping water echoed in the distance, providing a soothing backdrop to the hustle and bustle of the underworld that thrived within these walls.

As I moved with ease through the labyrinth of crates and shelves, the cellar revealed itself to be more than just a storage space. It was a testament to our resilience and resourcefulness, a testament to the intricate network we had built in this hidden world.

With each step, I felt a sense of belonging and purpose. This was our domain, where deals were struck, alliances were forged, and power was consolidated. The cellar held the essence of our operations, and I knew its secrets like the back of my hand.

In this dimly lit underworld, I felt a strange sense of home, a place where I could embrace my darker instincts and thrive in the shadows.

"Is it in this one?" I inquired, my gaze fixed on the massive iron door before us. We had an abundance of such doors in this underground labyrinth, making it difficult to discern which one led to our intended destination.

"Yes," Tiga confirmed, stepping forward with confidence. He deftly manipulated the lock, and the door swung open with a resounding metallic creak.

As I entered the dimly lit cell, a putrid stench assaulted my senses. The unmistakable odor of decay filled the air, seeping into my nostrils with an icy chill. "Which unfortunate soul met their end here?" I asked, my voice laced with a tinge of curiosity and repulsion.

"Let me check," Tiga swiftly moved about the cell, meticulously inspecting each iron-barred enclosure. I held my breath, hoping it wasn't a notable individual meant for a lucrative transaction. After a tense moment, Tiga returned with a hint of relief in his voice, "It was the dwarf girl destined for transport to a barren wasteland. Nothing of great consequence."

I proceeded to meticulously examine the entire floor, my eyes scrutinizing every item. It was imperative that each object was in suitable condition for transportation—functionality superseded all else. They were mere commodities, their well-being disregarded.

With the inspection complete, we retraced our steps and returned to my office. A map lay sprawled across the table, untouched since my departure.

"Excellent. Now, ensure the use of these four designated routes to transport the slaves to their assigned destinations. Keep them hidden from the watchful eyes of the church. Divide them into four groups of forty and employ boats for the journey to the Elishia Forest. Once there, smuggle them through this precise location, Viceburg City," I emphasized, tracing the routes with a deliberate finger on the map.

....Silence....

"What?" I asked, why's he looking at me like that?

"Ah?umm,No... I was just wondering how did you get this all routes and what about the access permissions from other syndicates?" Tiga asked,his question is valid but I am not at leisure to answer him everything,times ticking.

"You think I was off gallivanting on holiday while I was away from the base?" I confronted Tiga, my voice laced with a mixture of irritation and amusement. He vehemently shook his head, realizing the gravity of my involvement. "That's right. I was tirelessly communicating with countless individuals to ensure the success of this venture," I asserted, dismissing him with a wave of my hand.

Tiga turned to depart, but just as he reached the threshold, something caught my eye—a picture tucked away on a back shelf. "Wait a minute, Tiga!" I called out, halting him in his tracks. I needed answers. "What happened to that girl, Revan?"

He paused, his face etched with disappointment. "Oh, her. She left the kingdom a few months ago. Joined the imperial academy, it seems... Looks like our plan to blackmail her grandfather will have to be shelved," he replied, the frustration evident in his tone. I understood his sentiment all too well. After all, we couldn't allow that wretched man to enjoy a life of tranquility after the atrocities he had committed against us.

"Don't worry, give me some time. I'll devise a new strategy," I reassured Tiga, my mind already working on alternative paths of vengeance. With a sense of purpose, I returned to studying the image of Revan. It was a painting gifted to her grandfather by my own father, before that fateful incident...

I let out a heavy sigh, knowing that dwelling on the past would serve no purpose. In this treacherous world, sentiments of remorse had little room to breathe. It was time to focus on the task at hand.

The plan was set in motion, a complex tapestry of secrecy and manipulation, woven with meticulous precision. Within this unforgiving and cold landscape, the gears of our illicit operations turned, carefully concealed from the watchful eyes of the righteous.