The Value of a Piece of School History

"Someone's looking for me?"

When Ian heard the innkeeper say that someone was looking for him, he was slightly taken aback. He was unfamiliar with this place; apart from Master Caleb, whom he had met yesterday, no one else should have known him.

Master Caleb knew he was staying here?

That seemed unlikely. Ian had never told him.

Besides, he had left the man his contact information. There was no reason for him to use such a clumsy method to find him. With that thought, Ian's expression grew even more puzzled.

He had not even revealed his name to anyone in the market. Where had this visitor come from?

"Who is it?" he asked.

"A very troublesome fellow." The innkeeper seemed to see his confusion and lowered his voice, a warning in his cloudy eyes. "The one outside is Babua, an intelligence peddler with no conscience as long as there's money involved. If he suddenly came looking for you, someone probably paid to inquire about you. Be careful."

"That man... he'll sell information for money without a shred of conscience. He'd even sell the secrets of ancestral spirits."

Obviously.

The well-meaning innkeeper had misunderstood slightly.

And he clearly loathed that information broker as well.

"So it's him."

Ian immediately understood. It was Babua. It seemed the local snake wanted to probe him again after seeing his "wealth" and unfathomable strength yesterday.

After displaying his power yesterday, Ian did not believe anyone would truly dare investigate him just for money. The notion that money could make even gods move only applied while one was still alive.

Information brokers were smart people.

They would not take such a risky, loss-making deal.

At least, that was what Ian thought.

"Thank you for the warning, sir. I'll be careful." Ian nodded to the innkeeper