"You're asking why I'm so down? Heh, everything's been utter rot lately! Them—they're nothing but a bunch of parasites!"
Raj slammed down his glass and cursed under his breath.
Asher continued to coax him along. "Oh? How so? From what people over there say, hasn't the Empire been flourishing in recent years?"
Raj let out a beer-soaked burp, his agitation mounting. "It's those dragonblood nobles raking in fortunes! What does that have to do with us workers?
"I bust my back from dawn till dusk handling hundreds of rifles a day. But even if those firearms make millions, what do I see? One gold dinar a month, that's what!
"The big shots, though—they just sprawl on their sofas, put on a bit of a show, and rake in tens of thousands of gold dinars."
Raj's voice trembled, his indignation boiling over.
"And those bloodsuckers at the Imperial Bank! Six months ago, I took out a loan with them to buy a house in Isdalia's outer ring.
"Now that I've lost my job, they're not just sending debt collectors—they want to throw me out on the street! That place cost every copper I had saved..."
Asher echoed sympathetically, "That truly is outrageous. But come to think of it, weren't you working at a munitions factory? How did you lose your job?"
Raj gave a bleak smile and took another gulp of ale. "The factory supervisor claimed I was slacking off and daydreaming on the line. Just so happened that bunch of Starfallen was coming back, so he kicked me to the curb."
His tone flared with rage once more, flecks of beer foam flying into the air.
"What right does he have to talk down to me? We break our backs every single day, while he just takes a leisurely stroll around the floor and takes home several times our pay! Where's the justice in that?"
Asher immediately adopted a look of righteous fury and said, "Such scum truly deserve to die!"
"Damn right!"
"Bankers, factory owners, overseers... they're the parasites bleeding this empire dry!"
Raj slammed his glass hard onto the table, venting his fury, his face flushed crimson.
Seeing the man's agitation peak, Asher lowered his voice and probed softly, "Have you ever stopped to think—why did you end up in this state in the first place?"
Cheeks burning, Raj swirled his drink. "Because of that bastard Supervisor Jelsen, of course! Sacked me over one tiny slip-up..."
Asher patted his shoulder and pointed toward the ceiling, his tone deep and seductive. "What I mean is, if the Empire's order is fundamentally unfair, then what about the being who founded it in the first place...?"
He left the sentence hanging, fixing his gaze on Raj, waiting intently for his reaction.
"Of course—"
"Wait, you mean..."
Raj's eyes went wide, and a shiver ran down his spine.
Whether through some raw survival instinct or sheer shock, the alcoholic haze vanished in an instant. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead—because he understood exactly who the man was insinuating.
This 'outlander' wanted to rebel against His Supreme Majesty Cassius!
True, Raj usually sneered at the sycophancy churned out by the Propaganda Department, bore little personal loyalty to Emperor Cassius, and even harbored a few grudges.
Yet dread was etched into the very marrow of his bones!
After all, the rifles of the Imperial Guard and the envenomed daggers of Nocturne were no laughing matter.
*Thank the gods, I almost blurted it out.*
Lurking terror gripped Raj's heart. He patted his chest and let out a long, ragged exhale.
Noticing his lingering fright, Asher leaned closer and murmured into his ear, "No need to be afraid, Raj. Speak what's truly in your heart. Think about who brought you to this miserable state..."
Yet Raj was now sharper than ever. He tensely scrutinized the outlander beside him, mentally piecing together what had just transpired.
An unremarkable gray robe, a conversation struck up out of nowhere, suggestive, leading questions...
Finally, Raj reached a conclusion: this man was very likely a spy!
Raj's heart began hammering against his ribs—not just from fear, but from boundless exhilaration.
In the 'Imperial Dream' stories printed in the *Kingdom Daily*, his idol, Baron George, had started his rise by reporting a spy, climbing rank after rank until he was elevated to the dragonblood nobility.
After losing his livelihood and being evicted from his home, was his life about to rebound off rock bottom?
Reporting a spy meant a bounty of at least fifty gold dinars. If the intelligence proved vital, he might even be granted first-class citizenship and showered with privileges.
He could clear his debts, reclaim his house, perhaps even become a factory supervisor! The entire trajectory of his life would change!
*Maybe... maybe I could become a great figure like Lord George!* Raj thought to himself.
The gaze he turned upon Asher shifted into something eager, bordering on fanatical.
This was no ordinary drinking companion—this was a ticket to glory that could remake his destiny!
Asher caught the change in Raj's expression and felt a surge of smug satisfaction, believing the mortal had succumbed to his seduction and unleashed the hatred within.
"Come now, Raj. Do not fear. Speak the name. Name the culprit who single-handedly orchestrated your wretched plight..."
"Do not fear their vengeance. I shall bestow upon you immense power, allowing you to take revenge on every soul who ever wronged you."
"All right," Raj managed, nodding nervously. Sweat poured down his brow as he struggled to contain the roaring excitement in his chest.
*Revenge...*
He had seen that exact rhetoric in imperial notices—that was an Abyssal demon!
Over the past six months, the imperial authorities had placed tremendous importance on tracking demons. A hunter who discovered a demon had been awarded hundreds of gold dinars!
Rumor had it that hunter went on to open a thriving shop in Northwind Keep, living in grand style.
Yet sky-high rewards carried sky-high risks. These demons were lethal; one wrong move, and they would snuff out your life.
At that thought, Raj's legs began to tremble. His expression stiffened into a rigid mask, and beads of sweat sprouted on the tip of his nose.
Asher, however, assumed the mortal was merely tempted by his promises and terrified of imperial retribution.
"Don't be afraid, Raj," Asher coaxed. "Just imagine—I will grant you boundless wealth, incomparable power..."
Before he could weave more of his web, a sharp crash from behind shattered the moment.
*Smash!*
At a nearby table, a roaring drunk ogre had just slammed a glass mug over the head of a hobgoblin.
Glass shards scattered everywhere. Blood streamed down the hobgoblin's skull as he clutched his head and roared in agony.
"Filthy ogre! What the hell do you think you're doing?!"
The ogre, clutching the jagged remains of the handle, slurred drunkenly, "Urrgh... Ruk does whatever Ruk wants! Red-skinned runt!"
"You're dead!"
The hobgoblin lunged forward, grappling with the drunken ogre. Around them, other hobgoblins and ogres squared off, several even reaching for the revolvers at their hips.
"Stop fighting! Stop!"
"The peacekeepers are here!"
Seeing the brawl spiral out of control, the tavern keeper shouted frantically for help. A patrolling squad of tiefling peacekeepers came running at the commotion.
"Silence!"
"Brawling is forbidden within the city! And on Coronation Day, no less!"
The tiefling guards swept into the tavern, leveling their rifles at the ogres and hobgoblins with stern rebukes.
*Bang!*
A gunshot cracked through the room, blasting a hole through the ceiling. Staring down the dark barrel of a gun, the tangled ogre and hobgoblin finally regained their senses.
"Didn't mean it... had too much to drink," the ogre muttered, letting go of the hobgoblin pinned beneath him. He swayed to his feet, raised his hands, his face flushed red.
The clamorous tavern fell dead silent. A peace officer pulled out parchment and a pen, scratching down their names and identities.
Right then, a reeking human came stumbling over, tripped on an empty bottle, and crashed to the floor.
*Thud!*
Yet he remained sprawled there, thrusting a trembling finger straight toward the gray-robed figure sitting nearby. At the top of his lungs, his voice cracked with hysterical fury:
"Seize him! That's a demon!"
Instantly, an uproar erupted through the tavern.
Chapter 493