Warrior Training System

Chapter 95: Rose' Veno

"Detective Cassandra?" they blurted out in unison, their eyes widening as they met Cassandra's equally surprised gaze.

"What are you doing here, Detective Cassandra?" Cassian asked, his tone louder than he intended.

"Keep it down..." Cassandra hissed sharply, glancing around to make sure no one overheard.

They quickly nodded, and she pulled them aside, out of the main path. "It doesn't matter why I'm here. What are you two weaklings doing here?" she demanded, her tone stern and suspicious.

They exchanged a quick, irritated glance at her "weaklings" remark before Robert spoke up, "We're here to get some information about the guy who attacked us recently."

Cassandra's brow furrowed, clearly confused, so Cassian filled her in on the details of the attack and their intention to gather more intel. As he spoke, he couldn't help but notice her appearance—quite different from her usual neat look. She was dressed in tight pants with a fur jacket over a snug top that revealed a hint of toned abs and a deep navel.

Her blonde hair, usually tied back, was styled into loose waves, adding to her more rugged look.

Hearing him out, Cassandra sighed and said, "I would've knocked some sense into you two before sending you back for trying something this reckless. But since you're already here, come with me. And forget about whatever foolish plan you had in mind."

Both of them looked a bit sour but nodded, following her into the bar. Cassian, unable to hold back his curiosity, asked again, "But what are you doing here, dete—Miss Cassandra?"

"I'm here on some business for Sir Killian..." Cassandra replied as they entered the bar. It resembled any other bar in the city.

Filled with rowdy patrons who clearly didn't mind attracting attention. Tables were crowded with rough-looking men, many of them with scars, missing teeth, or tattoos that marked their allegiance to various gangs. Some were gambling, tossing coins and rolling dice, while others exchanged questionable goods under the tables, trying to keep their transactions discreet despite the loud environment.

The air was thick with the smell of cheap alcohol and sweat, and every so often, a fight broke out in a corner, only to be met with cheers and jeers from the surrounding crowd.

The walls were stained and sticky from years of spilled drinks, and the dim lighting only added to the seedy atmosphere. The barmaids, dressed provocatively, navigated the chaos with practiced ease, balancing trays while dodging wandering hands.

Despite the mess, there was a sense of unspoken rules—like everyone knew this place was for the city's less-than-legal dealings, but no one openly acknowledged it.

Above the noise and chaos, however, was another floor—far quieter and more refined. A set of stairs led up to a better-maintained area, guarded by a man who stood like a sentinel, arms crossed and eyes scanning the room.

Unlike the thugs downstairs, he was well-dressed in a tailored black suit, and a subtle nod to Cassandra was all it took for him to step aside and give her access to the upper floor.

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Cassian and Robert exchanged curious glances as Cassandra motioned for them to follow her up the stairs. As they ascended, the noise from below faded into a dull hum, and the atmosphere shifted drastically. The second floor had an air of exclusivity—still shady, but more controlled.

Here, the tables were polished, and the patrons dressed in finer clothes, their conversations held in low tones, as if they discussed matters too important or dangerous for the ears downstairs. A few well-dressed women lingered by the bar, sipping expensive drinks, and the staff moved with a quiet efficiency that contrasted sharply with the chaos below.

"Stay close, and don't say anything unless I tell you to," Cassandra instructed, her tone firm, as they reached the top of the stairs.

They soon found seats at an empty table, where a barmaid approached them. Her outfit, while a bit more refined than the others, was still revealing enough to flaunt her assets. Cassian and Robert couldn't help but stare for a moment, while Cassandra looked away with a look of disgust, waving the barmaid over to take their order. "One whiskey, neat. And give these two kids something sweet," she said.

Both Cassian and Robert looked annoyed but didn't change their orders. Once the barmaid had walked away, Robert leaned in and said, "Cassian might be a kid, but I can handle a drink, Miss Cassandra."

"What do you mean 'I might be'? I'm a kid," Cassian retorted, feeling a bit insulted that Robert even implied he was one.

"Yeah, but you're getting more action than me, and I'm the adult here," Robert muttered under his breath. Cassandra raised an eyebrow, glancing at a puzzled Cassian, who didn't catch the hint at all. Shaking her head, Cassandra scanned the room before adding, "I remember that night you tried to drink, and yeah, you can probably handle a glass...

just not with me." She rolled her eyes, and Robert's face flushed with embarrassment while Cassian chuckled.

The memory flashed in his mind—back at the Drunken Noodle, Cassian had managed to stumble home on his own, but they'd had to knock Robert out cold just to carry him to his bed. Cassian still believed they shouldn't have done that, insisting Robert was just one sip away from getting knock out himself. aans

As the barmaid returned with their drinks, she placed a neat whiskey in front of Cassandra and two brightly colored, fruity concoctions in front of Cassian and Robert. Cassandra smirked at the sight, while Robert looked downright offended by the pinkish drink, complete with a little umbrella sticking out of it. Cassian just sighed, muttering under his breath.

"Here's to blending in, I guess," he said, raising his glass half-heartedly. Robert did the same, though he still looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Cassandra took a sip of her whiskey, then leaned in closer, keeping her voice low as she glanced around the room. "Now, listen up. This place is crawling with lowlifes, but they might know something about the guy who attacked you. Just let me do my think first and we also do your think latter. Got it?"

Both nodded, and Cassian asked, "What are you up to, Miss Cassandra?"

"I'm looking for someone—a supposed member of the Cult of Silas, according to Sir Killian. I'm just here to check him out," Cassandra replied, her eyes scanning the room again as she spoke. "And keep talking to me so we won't look too suspicious..." she added, her tone low but firm.