The Silver Scale President

The middle-aged man stood at the door, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the hem of his clothes as fine beads of sweat broke out on his forehead.

His gaze shifted between Klein and Ophelia for a moment before finally landing on Klein.

"Sir, this is what happened." His voice was somewhat dry, like a wooden board parched by the sea breeze.

"As you instructed, I've been asking around the harbor for news, questioning the dockworkers and sailors about the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce and... those dark shadows."

He paused, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he were recalling a disturbing image.

Klein noticed that the middle-aged man's hands were trembling slightly.

"I was chatting with a few old sailors in the 'Rust Anchor' tavern. That place is... a motley crowd, all sorts of people. Dockworkers, smugglers, and even a few lunatics claiming to have seen sea monsters." The middle-aged man's voice dropped even lower. "Just as I was asking around, someone suddenly tapped me on the shoulder."

His Adam's apple bobbed again, more noticeably this time.

"I turned around and saw a well-dressed young man. He was smiling, but that smile..." The middle-aged man shuddered. "It was like the expression of a shark before it bares its teeth. He didn't say anything; he just nodded to me and then turned and left. My heart skipped a beat right then, and I felt something was wrong."

Klein's fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the table, creating a faint and rhythmic sound.

"And then?"

"I... I followed him, as if possessed." The middle-aged man swallowed. "He didn't walk fast, as if he were intentionally waiting for me to catch up. When we reached a secluded alley, he suddenly stopped, turned around, and said to me—'Tell your master that the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce wishes to meet him.'"

"Was that all?" Ophelia's voice came from behind Klein, carrying a hint of alertness.

"No... there was more." The middle-aged man wiped the sweat from his forehead. "He also said that regarding the matter you are investigating, they have important intelligence. He said that tonight, at the 'Deep Blue Anchor' tavern in the North District, their people will be waiting for you."

The room fell silent for a moment, with only the wail of the sea breeze blowing across the eaves outside the window.

"How do they know I'm the one investigating?" Klein's tone was calm, but Ophelia could sense that his thoughts were racing.

"That..." The sweat on the middle-aged man's forehead grew thicker, nearly dripping down. "They didn't say. But I feel, sir, that your movements might have been watched for a long time. Before that young man left, he specifically said—'Tell your master that we have no ill intent, we just want to talk. If he doesn't come, it would be a great pity.'"

He paused, a hint of fear creeping into his voice: "Sir, I can't help but feel... that 'pity' was not a good word."

Ophelia's brow furrowed even tighter.

Her perception allowed her to clearly capture the middle-aged man's emotional fluctuations—fear, unease, and an indescribable sense of oppression. This oppression didn't seem to come from an external threat, but rather... a kind of invisible gaze.

It was as if they were being watched by something.

"Did they do anything to you?" Klein asked, his gaze still calm.

"No." The middle-aged man shook his head, though his movements were somewhat stiff. "It's just... just that feeling, sir. I always feel like someone is watching me from the shadows, whether I'm walking on the street, returning to my quarters, or even standing here now, that feeling persists."

Klein didn't answer immediately.

His gaze fell upon the blood sample on the table, shimmering with an eerie deep purple, his thoughts surging like silent currents beneath the sea. The candlelight cast flickering shadows on the glass vial, and the deep purple liquid seemed to pulse along with it.

The Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce taking the initiative to reach out was strange in itself.

It was either a probe, a trap, or perhaps... they truly had a reason they had to speak about.

But regardless of which it was, it proved one thing—their investigation had already touched someone's nerves.

"What kind of place is the 'Deep Blue Anchor'?" Ophelia suddenly asked.

Her right hand remained on her hilt, a habitual movement that made her look ready to draw her sword at any moment. Her golden eyes shimmered in the dim room, like those of an alert predator.

The middle-aged man wiped his forehead, his voice stabilizing slightly: "That's the largest tavern in the North District of Silver Scale Harbor, where all sorts of people gather. Dockworkers, sailors, merchants, and even some... shady characters. But because there are so many eyes and ears, if they really wanted to make a move..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but the meaning was clear—in such a place, the cost of starting a fight would be too high.

Klein gave a light chuckle.

The sound was soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.

"Do you think if they really wanted to make a move, they would care about the location?" His fingers tapped on the table's edge, producing a crisp sound. "This is the territory of the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce; isn't it the same everywhere?"

The middle-aged man opened his mouth but couldn't find the words to respond.

Klein turned around, his gaze falling on Ophelia.

"Shall we go?"

His tone was calm, as casual as asking "what's for dinner tonight." But Ophelia knew the weight of this question was far greater than it appeared on the surface.

Ophelia looked at Klein and remained silent for a moment.

She could sense Klein's mood—calm, but not a numb calm; rather, a composure born of careful consideration. He had already made his decision and was merely consulting her.

"I'll follow your lead," she said, her tone as flat as stating a fact. "However—"

"I have the confidence to protect you."

Her voice was soft, but every word was clear. It wasn't an empty promise, but a confidence rooted in her very bones—the confidence of the Sword of the Empire.

Klein looked at her, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly.

He reached out and gently grasped Ophelia's hand, which was resting on her hilt.

"I know," he said, a hint of a smile in his voice. "That's why I dare to go."

Ophelia's cheeks flushed slightly, but she didn't pull her hand away from Klein's.

She simply nodded.

Klein turned to the middle-aged man and released Ophelia's hand.

"Go tell them that Ophelia and I will arrive on time." His tone became calm once more.

The middle-aged man froze for a second, then nodded hurriedly.

"Yes, sir. I... I'll go right away."

He turned and left, his footsteps gradually fading down the hallway, carrying a lightness of being relieved of a burden.

After the door closed, the room fell back into silence.

"What do you think they want?" Ophelia walked to his side and asked.

Her voice was soft, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet room.

"I don't know." Klein turned, his gaze falling on the vial of blood shimmering with an eerie deep purple. "But since they mentioned the matter I'm investigating..."

He didn't finish his sentence, but Ophelia already understood his meaning.

To some extent, their appearance in Silver Scale Harbor was a result of following the clues left by the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce.

If the chamber truly intended to pay attention, discovering their presence wouldn't be difficult.

Only, what exactly did these people want?

The Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce might have some shady dealings, but for now, there seemed to be no direct link between them and the sea monsters—at least no conclusive evidence pointed to it.

And...

Klein glanced at Ophelia beside him.

Even if they truly had some conspiracy, they should let these people see why she was called the Sword of the Empire.

Klein rubbed his brow, pulling his thoughts back to the present.

He would deal with whatever came his way. For now, the most important thing was to quickly extract the component from Karen's blood that could antagonize the sea monster blood.

Klein still had many things to do.

He walked back to the laboratory table, his fingers lightly brushing over the glass vessels.

The firelight cast swaying shadows on the liquid surfaces, like some silent omen.

"How much longer?" Ophelia asked.

She walked up behind Klein, her gaze falling on the complex alchemical arrays. Although she didn't understand them, she could feel that Klein was doing something very important.

"If it goes smoothly..." Klein looked at the darkening sky outside. "There should be some results before sunset."

He paused and added, "At least I'll be able to confirm if this thing is actually useful."

Ophelia didn't say anything more, simply standing quietly by his side.

Her gaze lingered on Klein's figure for a moment before turning toward the window.

The room fell into silence once more, leaving only the faint clinking of glass vessels and the wail of the sea breeze blowing across the eaves.

...

Night fell, and the "Deep Blue Anchor" tavern in the North District of Silver Scale Harbor was brightly lit.

Klein pushed open the wooden door of the tavern, and the murky air, thick with the smell of low-quality ale, tobacco, and some kind of rotting seafood, rushed toward him, nearly suffocating him.

Ophelia followed behind him. The golden-haired girl's knightly attire was exceptionally conspicuous in this motley crowd—her royal blue outfit with gold trim shimmered softly under the dim lights, her white stand-up collar shirt was spotless, and her entire being was like a swan that had wandered into a swamp.

The tavern was bustling with noise.

A few burly sailors were playing drinking games in a corner, each shout making the cups on the table jump.

By the bar sat several dockworkers in rags, who had also set down their burdens to enjoy their night.

There were also several gaudily dressed women leaning against the walls, their laughter sharp and piercing as they sized up every guest who entered with suggestive looks.

Klein's gaze swept through the crowd and quickly noticed the waiter standing at the foot of the stairs.

He was a young man in a neat vest, looking somewhat out of place in this tavern full of crude men.

His vest was dark blue, embroidered with the emblem of the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce.

His gaze met Klein's, and a polite smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he nodded.

The smile was very standard, as if he had undergone special training.

Klein took Ophelia's hand and wove through the noisy crowd toward the waiter.

Ophelia simply followed behind him.

She acted somewhat restrained, looking very much like a highborn lady who had wandered into this place by mistake.

"We have been expecting you, Mr. Klein." The waiter bowed slightly, then turned his gaze to Ophelia. "And Ms. Ophelia."

His tone was respectful, but his eyes held a certain scrutinizing look—as if he were evaluating their worth.

"My master has been waiting for you upstairs for quite some time." The waiter stepped aside and made a gesture of invitation. "Please follow me."

Klein didn't say a word; he simply released Ophelia's hand and was the first to step onto the wooden stairs leading to the second floor.

The stairs were narrow, creaking with every step like an old musical instrument groaning.

Several dim oil lamps hung on the walls, stretching their shadows long and twisting them into strange shapes against the walls.

Ophelia followed behind Klein, her right hand always resting on her hilt.

Her perception was amplified to the limit at this moment—she could feel the gazes of the people below still fixed on them, sense the tension permeating the air, and even feel the frequency of the waiter's heartbeat.

Everything was under her control.

The hallway on the second floor was completely different from the floor below.

Several oil paintings that looked quite valuable hung on the walls—some depicted naval battle scenes, others depicted creatures from mythology, and one showed a massive black sailing ship breaking through waves in a storm.

The floor was covered with a thick, dark blue carpet, making every step feel soft.

Even the air was filled with a faint scent of spices, like some expensive incense.

This place was as quiet as another world; the noise from below was blocked out by a magic circle, leaving only the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway.

The waiter stopped before a carved wooden door and knocked twice.

"Come in." A woman's voice came from inside. It wasn't loud, yet it had an indescribable penetration, as if it could pierce right through the wooden door and into one's ears.

The waiter pushed the door open and made a gesture of invitation to Klein and Ophelia, then stepped aside, head bowed like a dutiful servant.

Klein walked into the room.

It was a quite luxuriously furnished guest hall.

Dark blue velvet curtains hung on the walls, embroidered with silver wave patterns that shimmered softly in the candlelight.

Exquisite silver candlesticks stood on the table, the candlelight casting swaying shadows on the crystal glasses like flowing jewels.

There was also a faint scent of sea breeze in the room, as if blowing in from some invisible place—it wasn't the smell of rotting fish, but a fresh, salty oceanic air.

On the sofa in the center of the room sat a woman.

She wore a well-tailored dark blue long dress, with silver embroidery at the collar and cuffs.

Her long black hair was gathered into an elegant bun, revealing her slender neck.

Around her neck was a silver necklace with an exquisite anchor pendant.

Her features could be described as beautiful—fine features, fair skin, and lips painted a light red.

But her eyes were something one didn't dare to look at directly—there was a sharpness in them that seemed capable of seeing through everything, like the eyes of a hawk or some predator in the deep sea.

She watched Klein and Ophelia walk in, a polite smile touching her lips.

"Please, have a seat." She raised her hand to point to the sofa opposite her, her voice soft and elegant, like that of a well-trained noble.

Klein sat down opposite her, and Ophelia sat by his side.

The woman's gaze lingered on Ophelia for a moment—it slid over Ophelia's face, then landed on the longsword at her waist, before finally returning to her eyes.

Then, her gaze returned to Klein.

"Allow me to introduce myself." She picked up a wine glass from the table and took a small sip, her movements elegant and composed.

"I am the president of the Silver Scale Chamber of Commerce."

She paused and added, "You may call me—Nelisa."