Chapter 100: The Contact
That’s when he noticed a man stealthily following Amal.
Rex carefully observed him without drawing attention.
Like Amal, the man also tried to stay hidden whenever soldiers appeared nearby.
Rex made a small gesture to signal Amal.
In response, Amal exaggerated his caution and began moving toward a less crowded area.
The man following him continued the pursuit.
Suddenly stepping out from the crowd, Rex quickly walked up to Amal and called out in a loud voice.
"Amal? Hey, isn’t that you? Wow, what a surprise running into you here!"
Amal turned around instantly, startled, his face tense as he froze in place.
"Rex? Don’t shout like that," he muttered, lowering his voice.
Rex moved closer, guiding Amal into a dim side alley where they could talk more privately.
He could feel the presence of the man hiding nearby, listening in.
"Weren’t you stationed with the Twelfth Division?" Rex asked, speaking loud enough to be heard, but trying to keep the tone hushed. "Wait... I heard that division got wiped out past Lynn’s Village. The Rosarian Army ambushed them, didn’t they?"
Amal gave a small nod and leaned in, lowering his voice even more.
"Yeah, about that... I just happened to be lucky and survived. But it wasn’t the Rosaria Army. The truth is something else. I know what really happened—and now the military is after me because of it. You shouldn’t be seen with me. You’ll be in danger too."
He spoke like a man truly frightened, and once again, Rex was impressed by Amal’s acting skills.
It wasn’t the first time—he’d done a convincing job pretending to be a traveling merchant too.
Maybe experience really did pay off.
"I see," Rex replied calmly. "Well, I’ll be going then. You stay safe. And if anything happens, come to my place. Same spot as always."
"Thanks," Amal said.
Rex quickly moved away from Amal and slipped into the crowd, hiding in the darkness that had already fallen.
He blended into the flow of people, then casually circled back and took cover in the shadows to keep watch.
Amal was still standing in the alley, now mostly swallowed by the dark, his figure barely visible.
The man who had been following him approached the alley.
Amal seemed to notice and turned his face toward the man.
When the man stepped fully into the alley and came closer to Amal, Rex sprinted forward and quietly positioned himself behind him.
Just as the man reacted with a start and tried to escape, Rex grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.
"Ugh!"
Even though the man didn’t cry out, Rex leaned in close and spoke in a calm and steady voice, trying to sound as friendly as possible.
"I’m not your enemy. The enemy of your enemy is your ally."
"...Who are you?" the man asked in a hoarse voice.
"Exactly what I look like. Someone who stands against the military regime that’s taken control of Dalmasca. That’s your side too, isn’t it?"
"So this was a setup. I walked right into it, huh? What’s your goal?"
"What he told you—it’s real. You and your group would be interested in hearing it. I want you to take us to your people. We’ll explain everything there."
"Ha! Are you stupid? You don’t even know who I am. I could be setting a trap for you right now."
"That goes both ways, doesn’t it?" Rex replied. "If we don’t take some risks, nothing can start. The information we have—it’ll be useful to you. I promise."
Rex gave the man a confident grin, even as the man’s face stayed pale and tense with fear.
...
When Curzon returned from buying food and bringing two unfamiliar men with him, Tenby was shocked.
Seeing Curzon’s pale and tense face, Tenby and the other four immediately drew their swords, ready to fight.
If these strangers had seen their faces, they couldn’t be allowed to leave alive.
But the younger of the two men simply threw an arm around Curzon’s shoulder and gave a big, easy smile.
The lack of tension in that smile caught the group off guard.
Surely, he could feel their killing intent.
Behind him, the older man in his fifties looked like he was about to collapse from fear, his pale face twitching and his whole body shaking.
"No need to worry. We’re not military agents or guards," the younger man said casually while still with his arm around Curzon as they stepped closer.
Curzon was being used as a shield, so they couldn’t attack recklessly.
"Is there someone in charge?" the man asked. "I’ve got something important to talk about."
The man with mouse-gray hair had light blue eyes that gave off a cold, sharp light.
He was clearly a man with nerves of steel.
He looked a bit too mature to be called young—probably in his mid-thirties.
He showed no fear of the five drawn swords pointed at him and instead glanced around at them calmly, as if sizing them up.
Tendy slowly sheathed his sword and stepped forward.
Seeing that, the other four followed his lead and lowered their weapons for the moment.
"I’m Tenby," he said. "Let’s hear what you have to say."
At that, the older man—probably around fifty—hesitantly stepped out from behind.
He was a bit chubby and looked like a kind-hearted, harmless sort of man.
As Rex let go of Curzon’s shoulder, he subtly shifted his body to shield the older man with reddish-brown hair that was starting to turn white.
"Does your leg hurt? We walked a long way," Rex asked gently.
Apparently, the older man had an injury. Now that he thought about it, the man had been slightly dragging one foot.
"I’m fine. Thank you, Rex," the older man said, giving a small nod toward him before turning to face the rest of the group.
There was a look of quiet determination in the older man’s blue eyes, which had seemed timid just moments before.
What the older man shared with them turned out to be shocking news for Rex and the others.