I'm a Immortal Tavernkeeper, But My S-Rank Daughter Doesn't Know That!

The smell of blood in the air was distinct. Unfortunately, Victor was more used to it than he cared to admit, so this smell differed from any other.

With slow steps, Victor moved through the narrow main hall of the tailor’s shop, aiming for the back of the shop. If the tailor was there, he could certainly hear Victor enter, unless he was very concentrated.

"Aron?" Victor called again, just to be sure.

Again, no answer.

The atmosphere was thick with silence. Victor didn’t like this kind of situation at all, and he couldn’t ignore the growing sense of imminent danger.

Nevertheless, Victor decided to follow the metallic scent, which led him to the back of the store, where Aron’s private office was located, where he usually designed the clothes and worked until the store closed.

As he approached the curtain that separated the shop area from the office, Victor stopped. The smell of blood was stronger there. He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for whatever he might find on the other side.

With a gentle gesture, he pulled back the curtain in front of him, and what he saw made him swallow.

Aron’s office had been completely overturned. Papers strewn across the floor, fabrics torn, and furniture overturned. And in the middle of the chaos was Aron.

The tailor, an old man who had always been full of life, was lying on the floor, bloodied and almost unrecognizable because of his various injuries. His face was so bruised that it looked as if a herd of cows had trampled him.

Victor could see that Aron had been brutally beaten. Aron’s face was swollen and covered in bruises, and there were deep cuts on his arms and chest, as Victor could see.

"Victor..." Aron whispered in a weak voice.

But as Victor started to move to help his friend, a voice from behind stopped him:

"Not another move, big man. Or you’ll die with the old man."

Upon hearing the voice, Victor recognized the harsh tone and sarcastic manner of speaking. It was one twin, Wendell and Walrick, sadly old acquaintances.

It had only been a short time since Victor had kicked them out of Aron’s tailor shop, so Victor didn’t think they would be back anytime soon.

"Are you the ones who did this to him?" Victor asked as he looked at Aron.

Just then, the tip of a blade touched Victor’s back as if in response.

"Shut up, lower your voice, and put your hands up."

Victor raised his hands slowly, showing that he had no intention of making any sudden moves. He had to buy time. He had to think of a way to get Aron out of this situation.

Considering his external injuries, Aron was probably also very sore inside and should only have a few minutes left.

"You came for revenge, is that it?" asked Victor without turning around.

Soon he heard a laugh.

"That’s right, big man," Wendell replied, his voice dripping with venom. "You humiliated us that time. Now we’ve come to show you who’s boss."

"We knew you might show up when we came back, but either you come here every day or you’re really unlucky to come on the days we do?"

"Unlucky?" Victor wondered. ’Lucky that I came today after almost three weeks.’

Either way, bad luck or good luck didn’t matter now. Victor could feel the hatred emanating from them.

Carefully, he turned his head enough to see them out of the corner of his eye. The twins were wearing invisibility cloaks, which explained why Victor hadn’t seen them in the bar area.

Walrick, the one with the scar over his left eye, was holding a dagger in one hand, while Wendell was the one threatening Victor with a sword at his back.

"Look at that," Walrick said, pointing the dagger at Victor. "Is the bully afraid?"

Victor remained calm despite the knot of worry forming in his stomach. He had to find a way to neutralize the twins without making things worse for Aron.

"Scared?" Victor let out a short laugh. "You two will never be more than mice sneaking around in the shadows."

The provocation had the desired effect. Walrick took a step forward, his anger evident, but Wendell stopped him from attacking.

"Easy, brother."

’Um. They’re more careful...’ Victor thought and then said aloud, "It’s clear that your problem is more with you than with Aron now. Let him go."

The twins laughed in unison, a disturbing sound that echoed through the destroyed office. "Do you think you have any authority here?" asked Walrick. "And another thing, Aron still owes us, and if he’s got nothing but old stuff here, you, hunter, will pay for it."

Victor sighed. "The problem with Aron was money, right? Take the bag of coins around my waist and go."

Walrick took a step forward, tempted by the promise of finally getting the money Aron owed their boss.

"Wait, let’s make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid," Wendell said. "We’ll bind his hands and then tie him to a chair before we search him."

"Do what you want." Victor said, his hand still raised in a gesture of surrender. He knew that any sudden move could be fatal for him and Aron.

Walrick hesitated but nodded reluctantly. He put the dagger down for a moment and started looking for something to tie Victor to. In the chaos of the office, he found some strips of sturdy cloth that Aron used in his tailoring work.

Wendell, keeping his sword pointed at Victor, motioned with his head for his brother to begin tying Victor’s hands.

"Do not try anything," Wendell warned Victor in his cold, threatening voice. "Or Aron will pay the price as well."

Victor had no choice but to obey. He allowed Walrick to bind his hands tightly with the cloth, feeling the pressure increase as the straps were tightened. Once his hands were firmly secured, Wendell pointed with his chin to a nearby chair.

"Sit down," he ordered.

Victor obeyed and slowly sat down, watching the twins carefully.

Wendell approached, still keeping the blade close enough to be a constant threat.

Walrick, now with his hands-free, found more strips of cloth and began tying Victor to the chair. He tied Victor’s ankles to the chair’s legs and wrapped more cloth around Victor’s torso, trussing it to the backrest. The fabric was thick and strong, and Walrick spared no effort in tightening each knot.

"There you go," Walrick said, stepping back to admire his work. "Now let’s see what our old friend was hiding."

Wendell put the sword away, satisfied with the bindings holding Victor, and began to rifle through the hunter’s clothing.

When he picked up the largest bag attached to the hunter’s belt, Victor recognized it as the Bottomless Bag and said:

"That’s not the bag with the money in it."

Walrick gritted his teeth and punched Victor in the face. "Shut up! We’re going to take what we want from you!"