Chapter 64
The entertainment district was quieter than expected.
Then again, it was probably just because it was broad daylight.
Considering the nature of the business, things wouldn’t really pick up until nightfall.
Even Solinor, who had lived a life far removed from such places, knew that much.
He did love wine, but it had always been during campfires on his adventuring days.
After becoming king, it was just part of mealtimes.
Of course, now he couldn’t drink at all.
‘Ah… meat or fish without wine is just criminal.’
Thinking of the past made Solinor drool a little.
These days, he was stuck munching on sweets instead.
Ahead of them was the entrance to the establishment where that degenerate bureaucrat was most likely drinking.
A thick wooden sign displayed drawings of scantily clad women showing off their legs and waists, with a wine glass in the center.
Quite detailed and realistic artwork—not at all appropriate for children.
‘Whoa, that’s some impressive art. But I still don’t get what’s so fun about this place.’
Drinking with strange women he didn’t even know? It sounded more bizarre than enjoyable.
Solinor had grown up poor, with no connection to such things.
During his adventuring years, there hadn’t been time for that either—and their party had two beautiful women already.
After becoming king, he’d been far too busy building a nation to bother with drinking parties.
Lost in thought, he ended up staring at the sign for quite a while.
Fortunately, there weren’t many people around, or it might’ve looked really bad.
Of course, during peak hours, the very presence of a child here would’ve been a problem to begin with.
“Hey, kid. Maybe stop staring at that vulgar artwork? Keep it up and you’ll end up like those ladies, working in places like this when you grow up.”
Bianca’s voice rang out beside Solinor’s ears. He had been staring too long.
But considering she was just a handmaiden born to a quasi-noble family, her words had definitely crossed a line.
Not that she noticed—Bianca was way too deep into her role as Muriela’s mother.
‘Princess! This is not how you teach someone about this stuff!’
Though what she said and what she meant were clearly… not aligned.
Bianca herself slapped a hand over her mouth in realization.
‘I got too into the mom act and slipped up. What now…’
Hamilton and Florina both winced at her words, but the princess’s reaction was refreshingly simple.
Not a hint of annoyance or backlash—just a perfect performance as the doting daughter.
“Oh, Mama, I was staring too long, wasn’t I? I’m sorry.”
Muriela turned around with a sheepish grin. Everyone heaved a sigh of relief.
At least Bianca probably wouldn’t be reprimanded after they returned to the palace.
Lucky for her, Solinor had no interest in etiquette or decorum.
He was the kind of man who wouldn’t care even if someone jumped rope with propriety itself.
In his previous life or this one, Muriela’s etiquette grades were clearly never destined to improve.
The group cautiously entered the establishment after ensuring no one was watching.
Given the nature of the place, a burly guard was standing watch just inside.
His expression? Utter confusion, of course.
They looked like a young couple with a child—why would they come to a place like this in the middle of the day?
“Hold it. What do you want?”
Naturally, his tone wasn’t pleasant.
They didn’t look like real customers, so he saw no reason to be polite.
If they had at least been wearing expensive, fancy clothes, he might’ve let it slide.
Weird or not, rich folks usually spend big.
But Muriela’s group was dressed like your average Solineum citizen.
No matter how you looked at it, they weren’t the type to visit such a high-end adult establishment.
“What do you think we came here for? To drink, obviously.”
Hamilton responded as they’d planned. He’d gotten used to acting by now.
His stiffness had eased considerably. Still, the guard wasn’t buying it.
He waved his hand in frustration, his expression still full of disbelief.
“Yeah, no. Don’t give me that crap. Just turn around and leave. Don’t interfere with business.”
“Oh come on, I said we came for drinks. How is that interfering?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”
Hamilton received a signal from Muriela and pressed forward without hesitation.
He strode boldly toward the guard, closing the distance. The guard instinctively reached out to stop him.
But who was Hamilton? A knight from the Royal Capital Defense Force.
In terms of combat prowess, he was one of the kingdom’s top elites.
No way this bouncer stood a chance.
“Gah!”
“We’ll just have a quiet drink and leave. So don’t get in our way.”
The guard broke into a cold sweat as his arm was twisted and he was forced to kneel.
If Hamilton had wanted to, he could’ve easily made the man’s arm useless.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. The guard had clearly picked the wrong opponent.
“What the—?!”
“What’s going on!?”
Meanwhile, others who heard the commotion at the entrance came rushing in. All of them wore the same uniform—fellow guards.
“What the hell are you doing!?”
“Bro! Are you okay!?”
Seeing their comrade subdued on the ground, they pulled clubs from their pockets.
Of course, to Hamilton, they were no more threatening than civilians holding sticks.
The atmosphere grew tense—one spark and a fight could break out.
Then the already-subdued guard shouted hastily.
“W-Wait! Hold on! We might not need to fight!”
The other two hesitated, backing away at his urgent voice.
They were honestly relieved. They had drawn their clubs, but the aura coming off Hamilton was no joke.
Even while holding one man down with a single arm, he didn’t show the slightest opening.
‘His clothes look normal, but this guy’s definitely a monster…’
‘Where the hell did someone like this come from? He feels like a knight-level fighter.’
They’d survived this long by being observant—missing this would’ve been a fatal mistake.
“So, you really do just want to have a drink and go?”
“I’ve been saying that from the start. Why won’t you believe me?”
“…Fine. Go ahead.”
And just like that, Muriela’s group forced their way through using sheer strength.
Solinor thought bringing Hamilton was a brilliant move.
If it had just been Muriela or the maids, they would’ve never made it through.
No way words would’ve worked here.
Convincing the two bureaucrats earlier probably would’ve taken way more effort too.
As the saying goes—law is distant, but fists are close.
Solinor had experienced that often in his prime.
Meanwhile, the guards weren’t just standing idly by.
One quick-footed man was sent out of the building.
He was short and wiry, and immediately took off running somewhere at full speed.
Unaware, Muriela’s group had gone upstairs to hunt their prey.
The first floor was mainly for welcoming guests, inspecting belongings, and providing guidance.
The real action—and the guests—were on the second floor.
They began scanning the faces at the tables, comparing them to the description Patrick had given.
It wasn’t hard. Given the hour, the place had very few customers.
“This one definitely isn’t him…”
“Maybe he’s on the third floor?”
Apparently, the guards had informed the workers about Hamilton’s strength.
No one tried to stop them during their search.
But just as they approached the stairs to the third floor—
“This area is for VIPs only.”
Five staff members blocked the staircase.
‘What’s with these guys? Why are they so strong for waiters? This is seriously suspicious.’
Hamilton paused.
Blocking the stairs wasn’t strange in itself—it was a VIP section, after all.
But as an experienced knight, Hamilton could feel something off about their demeanor.
Their breathing and posture were composed in a way that only well-trained individuals displayed.
Way beyond those guards from earlier—these guys were practically royal guard level, even if not knights.
No way a regular upscale bar could afford people like this.
It wasn’t a coincidence. Something bigger was clearly at play.
And with the princess here too, sweat began to form on Hamilton’s brow.
‘Wait a second… these people feel oddly familiar.’
Florina, too, sensed something strange.
Her instinct as a spy differed from Hamilton’s.
She was trained to notice concealed weapons hidden in clothing.
She could faintly sense blades tucked beneath the uniforms—slight protrusions, tiny differences in fabric color.
Nothing obvious, but recognizable to someone who knew what to look for.
‘This place… is no ordinary tavern.’
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