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

As Victor was about to leave Mari’s laboratory, he saw the girl pick up a pile of books and put them on the floor to start reading them. Victor knew that if there was one person in this world capable of helping him without having practically any information about the ’curse’, it was Mari Dundragon, so he let her work in peace and without pressure.

After leaving the laboratory, he climbed the stairs to the first floor and, when he opened the door, he was immediately met by the bodyguard Frugeon, who seemed to be guarding the place.

"Have you finished? It’s not even ten minutes since you came in." Frugeon said.

"Were you worried about me?" asked Victor, closing the door behind him.

"W-what? Of course not! The matriarch only asked me to keep watch here so that no one would interfere with your meeting."

"If that’s the case, thank you very much, you’re dismissed, soldier. Mari doesn’t know how to help with my problem yet, but she’s promised to find out." Victor said, revealing enough for Frugeon to update Luísa, because Victor knew that’s what Frugeon would rush to do after this conversation. "By the way, also let Luísa know that I’m going out for a while. I need to buy some new clothes, like you said." He winked at the guard and walked off.

Frugeon frowned angrily and grumbled as he hurried to Luísa’s office.

As Victor was about to leave, one of the maids was already by the door, holding his worn cloak and black tunic.

"Mr. Shieldman, your clothes have been washed and dried. They are ready for you to wear." She said, bowing her head, without judging the condition of the clothes. She was a woman of about forty with brown hair.

"Thank you for that."

After thanking the maid for the freshly laundered clothes, Victor left Selvarum Manor.

The cold winter air quickly became harsh as he draped his cloak over his shoulders in front of the mansion’s large closed doors. The cloak, though worn, was one of the few tangible things he kept from his life in Serenity, it was sad to have to part with it, but he couldn’t keep walking up and down with it during a winter as harsh as this one looked like it would be.

Looking up, Victor saw the cloudy sky over the city of Klento. This was an imminent promise of snow, so Victor had to be quick.

To Victor’s surprise, even during the harsh winter, Klento was a vibrant city during the day, which was particularly unusual for a port city, where the water froze and left many crews stranded all winter.

That morning, the streets were much busier than when he had arrived in the city the night before, with people wrapped in heavy cloaks and armor more geared towards the cold. All this reminded Victor that Klento was a port city, yes, but it also attracted many hunters because it was a large city.

The bells of the great local cathedral rang out in the distance, mingling with the sounds of buffalo-drawn carts crossing the streets.

Victor walked along the cobbled streets and, as he walked through the city, he noticed the diversity among the people he passed. Busy merchants traded goods in the squares and on the sidewalks, children ran between the food stalls, and there were travelers from all parts of the kingdom. Klento was no longer the city Victor had known many years ago, it wasn’t full of pirates and troublemakers, at least that was the initial perception.

Victor partially remembered the city’s main roads and he headed for the area near the port, where the streets were lined with stores displaying a variety of items, from exuberant jewelry to meticulously hand-forged weapons.

The hunter stopped in front of a clothes store, where he saw an elderly tailor working on a garment. He looked at the old man through the window, smiled and entered the tailor’s shop.

"Good afternoon, gentleman!" He greeted the old tailor with a friendly smile. "Can I help you find something special for this holiday season?"

Victor was hooded because of the cold, but as he entered the store he took off his hood. "I’m looking for something sturdy but elegant. Something that can protect me from the cold, but also doesn’t stop me from moving around freely." He said.

However, the elderly man couldn’t pay attention to a single word the customer said, because he was too shocked.

"Vi-Victor?" The tailor asked.

"So you remember me, Aron."

"Of course I do, how could I not?" The elderly man in formal clothes walked around the counter as quickly as he could with the help of his cane and gave Victor a warm hug.

For years, Aron Simple had made all of Victor’s armor because, as well as being an excellent tailor, he was also a tremendous blacksmith and craftsman.

"How are you, my friend?" Aron asked, his eyes shining with genuine joy at seeing Victor. "It’s good to see you again."

Victor smiled, touched by the warm welcome. "I’m fine, Aron. And you? How’s business?"

The old tailor nodded with a faint smile. "Well enough, considering the difficult times. But let’s not talk business now. I see you’re wearing rags, let me help you find something that suits your style and needs." He started trying to push Victor towards the closet section of the store.

"I don’t have much money." Victor held up his hands, but followed Aron.

"Are you kidding? I haven’t seen you for years, just you telling me what you’ve been doing all these years is enough for me."

With a gentle smile, Aron led Victor to the dressing room part of the store, where Victor could change.

"Give me a moment, Victor, I’m going to get something that I think will fit you perfectly," said Aron and closed the closet curtains with a quick gesture. "Don’t go peeking!"

As Aron rummaged through the fabrics on the counter area of the store, the store door opened with a familiar creak, and a gust of cold air entered the heated environment of the tailor’s store.

Victor didn’t mind at first, it could just be a customer, but that soon proved to be the wrong conclusion.

"So, Aron, you old cheat, are you going to tell me you don’t owe us?" A deep, authoritative voice echoed through the small store.

Aron didn’t seem surprised to hear their voices, but worried. "W-walrick, Wendell, what a pleasant surprise to see you here," he said with false courtesy. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"You know very well!" said one of them. "We’re here to collect what you owe us."

Victor peeked through the curtain and saw two men covered in tattoos. These men were identical twins, the only difference between them being that one of them had a scar over his left eye, while the other did not.

Walrick, the one with the scar, crossed his arms over his chest. "And don’t think we’re going away empty-handed this time. We’re tired of your excuses and we’re late!"

"Please give me more time," pleaded Aron, his voice shaking, clasping his hands together. "I’m working on some requests. I promise I’ll have what you want soon." 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

The twins exchanged skeptical glances, clearly not convinced by Aron’s promise.

Walrick took a step forward, his expression becoming more somber. "You’ve had enough time, Aron. We don’t want to hear any more of your excuses," he said, suddenly pulling out a knife to place against Aron’s neck. "Either you pay us, or you die!"