The Fire Dragon Bar was located in the dock district, where the environment was exceedingly complicated.
After work, many commoners, small vendors, dock laborers, and wage earners liked to gather in places like this, seeking solace in alcohol and women at cheap bars.
After a day of grueling work and the frustration of being scolded by their superiors, the most popular drink in the bar was the cheapest ginger beer, mixed with ginger powder and containing only around 5% alcohol—because it was cheap enough!
So cheap that a single penny bought two brimming mugs, and its flavor was distinctive—at the very least, stimulating and fiery enough!
After work, Percy changed into a trench coat and put on a black hat. Pulling down the brim, he lingered outside the bar for several rounds before finally entering the Fire Dragon Bar.
After thinking it over, he had still decided to keep his appointment with the Invisible Cult, partly to gather more intelligence.
The moment he entered the bar, a wave of heat mixed with the pungent odors of perfume, body odor, alcohol, and more assaulted him head-on. Percy disgustedly fanned the air before him.
"A rye beer!"
Percy spoke to the bartender behind the counter. With his salary, he naturally had no taste for that cheapest ginger beer, which had nothing but a sharp flavor to offer.
"One penny!" the bartender said with a smile as he wiped a glass.
Just as Percy lifted the huge glass mug and sampled the hops, a plain-looking man in his thirties with azure eyes suddenly came to stand beside him.
Percy's body immediately trembled, as though he had returned to that nightmare of a night.
*That's right, it's him—the Cult member who appeared that night! He deliberately chose a crowded place to make contact... Was