Laras loved anything that got her adrenaline pumping. If she had to choose between going to the beach and visiting an amusement park, she’d pick the amusement park without a second thought. She loved playing games that tested her courage. But now, without any screaming or plunging from a height, Laras felt a fear far greater than anything she’d experienced on the death-defying thrill rides she’d ridden before.
Thump! Thump! Thump! Her heart pounded. With an artificially blank expression, Laras continued walking slowly while observing her surroundings.
All around Laras were ordinary old buildings, their walls beginning to blacken as if they were neglected and damp. Outside, the pungent spice scent had been impossible to miss, but inside, the air smelled musty.
“Different outside and in,” Laras muttered.
“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Thump! Laras jumped. Fortunately, she managed to control her expression, lazily rolling her eyes before glaring at the person who had startled her.
He was a large, muscular man with light-brown skin and a mane of jet-black hair that reached his shoulders. Laras stared at the man’s face. There was one distinctive feature she knew by heart because it appeared in every chapter of the story: the scar from a slashing wound across his right cheek.
That was Nagel. He wasn’t a leader or a great merchant, just a jack-of-all-trades aboard a ship. A clever man hidden beneath a careless exterior. Setting aside his personality, Nagel was already frightening enough because of his build and facial scar, but his ideas were even more terrifying.
“Can’t you be patient?” Laras said in a flat, cold tone.
“My apologies, miss. I’ve been watching you walk around in circles for a while, so I thought you were lost,” Nagel said with an awkward smile as he bowed.
“I’ve been walking through this place the same way everyone else does, but he’s the only one suspicious of me,” Laras thought.
Silence settled between them for a moment. Nagel had one flaw in his character: whenever he was thinking, he tended to fall silent and study his opponent before saying anything. And now, he was doing exactly what the novel had described.
“Cloves,” Laras said. It was the line Nagel always repeated.
“Yes?” Nagel asked, looking confused. Laras grew worried. Maybe he hadn’t used that word yet at this point in the story.
Laras sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Whatever.” Playing the part of a dissatisfied customer, she walked away from Nagel.
“Hey, wait!” Nagel called after her. When he reached for her hand, Laras quickly slapped his away.
With a disgusted, scornful look, Laras stepped toward Nagel. “I’m warning you, don’t get fresh!” she threatened, hiding the fear inside her.
Nagel froze for a moment, then bowed in apology. “I’m sorry, miss. To make it up to you, how about I escort you and help with your transaction?” he said, suddenly formal.
Laras clicked her tongue. “What makes you think I want you escorting me?” she said, then hurried away from Nagel.
Step! Step! Step! Their footsteps echoed back and forth. The man had been following her from behind the entire time. “Damn it. Did he figure me out?” Laras thought, beginning to panic.
When she reached the end of the corridor, the musty smell began to fade. At the far end, she also saw two men standing guard with long guns. Laras swallowed. She wanted to turn and run, but they might shoot her if she did anything suspicious.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
Every step felt heavier than the last. She was getting closer, and her heart was beating more wildly.
“Stay calm, Laras,” she told herself, controlling her breathing, which had already become uneven without her realizing it.
“Who are you?” one of the guards asked, blocking Laras’s path with his pistol.
Laras glared at the man. They locked eyes. She lazily rolled her eyes and sighed. “Cloves,” Laras said, hoping the brief word would be useful with the guard in front of her.
“Open your bag!” the man ordered, and Laras reflexively opened the pouch containing cloves.
“Are you done? If you want to talk, talk to the idiot behind me. I’m already very late,” Laras said sharply.
Both guards immediately turned around. They couldn’t see anything in the darkness. “Go check!” the guard who had been interrogating Laras ordered the other.
Click! The sound of a pistol being loaded. Keeping his gun aimed ahead, the guard moved forward to find out who Laras had brought in.
“Who’s there?” he demanded, remaining on alert.
“Your friend.” Nagel stepped forward with both hands raised.
When the guard saw Nagel, he lowered his pistol, as though Nagel’s identity didn’t need to be questioned. “Errand boy!” the guard called out.
“Go on in!” said the guard who had been stopping Laras.
Laras gave that guard one last scornful glance, then walked past him confidently.
“I can’t believe it worked!” Laras thought excitedly. She truly hadn’t expected to get into this suspicious place.
Contrary to her expectations, there was nothing unusual inside. It was just like an ordinary spice market, only with a massive supply.
The room she was in now was fairly clean compared with the previous one. Well-maintained concrete walls and adequate light streaming through openings in the building kept the room from feeling like the filthy alley she had just passed through.
It should have been fairly comfortable, but considering everything Laras had gone through to reach it, this place felt the most suffocating of all.
Several large sacks were neatly arranged along the walls. Some stood open, revealing piles of ginger, pepper, cinnamon, cloves, and other spices familiar to Laras. Wooden tables stood in the middle of the room, equipped with scales and small bags prepared for buyers.
There was no sign.
No indication that the place sold anything at all. It was obvious this place had something to do with the story Laras had overheard in the dining room.
“Illegal spice sales,” Laras thought.
Laras continued walking past people busy buying and selling spices. Naturally, she followed one of the buyers who had completed a transaction. She realized that no one had entered while walking in the opposite direction, which meant there had to be another route for people to leave.
Laras put a fair distance between herself and the buyer, then nervously tried to approach him. “Greetings, sir!” she said, walking one step behind him.
“Are you a servant?” the man asked. Laras turned and studied the middle-aged man in front of her for a moment.
“Yes, sir,” Laras replied.
“It seems you greeted me first. Is there something you need?” the man asked.
“How big is your ship?” Laras asked abruptly.
“My ship? Fairly large. At least large enough to pass easily between the smaller islands,” the man replied, slightly confused by her question.
Laras was just as confused. She had no idea what to say next; it had simply been a random question in her head. “Would it be possible to make a transaction at the end of your voyage?” Laras asked again.
“Oh, come on. Just get me out of here already,” Laras thought, no longer able to bear the situation.
“Are you from the West? It must be difficult to travel to the Central or Eastern regions every time you want to buy spices,” the man said.
Laras looked at the man, who was now walking beside her. He seemed to think for a long time. “I’ll offer you special service. If you want to make a transaction at an affordable price, come here and hand this over,” the man said, giving her his business card.
“Burhan Arganel? That’s an unfamiliar name,” Laras thought.
“Thank you for your generosity,” Laras said.
“Of course,” the man named Burhan replied.
They continued walking until the end of the corridor came into view. As Laras had expected, there was a guard stationed there. When someone approached to pass through, one of the guards immediately turned his head. Laras was frightened, but she tried to remain calm, keeping her head high and walking one step behind Burhan.
“Have a safe journey, sir,” both guards said at once.
“Thank you,” Burhan replied without turning around. It was obvious he had been a regular customer here for a long time.
“Sir!” Laras called.
Burhan stopped and turned toward Laras. “Thank you for your help inside. I’ll contact you as soon as I reach the West,” Laras said, trying to act the part.
“I’ll be waiting to hear from you,” Burhan replied.
After saying goodbye and parting ways, Laras felt as though she had finally released an enormous weight from her shoulders.
Laras walked back toward the entertainment district. Darkness was beginning to fall, but she still had several blocks to cross before reaching her destination.
“I hope I don’t get yelled at,” Laras said, remembering how long she had been gone.
Laras had now reached the road dividing the entertainment district from the trading district. The street was fairly deserted, with very little illumination. She hurried along it, but halfway down the road—whoosh!—everything suddenly went dark. Laras couldn’t see a thing.
“Hey! Who are you?” Laras cried in panic, struggling to break free from the person holding her arm.
“HEY, LET GO! WHO THE HELL ARE YOU PEOPLE?!” Laras screamed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Laras thought in disbelief. Someone had covered her with a sack, just like a classic kidnapping scene from a TV show.
Laras felt exhausted. She had resisted at first, but soon gave up and let them carry her wherever they wanted.
Laras finally came to a stop somewhere. She was forced to sit down, but nothing restrained her to the chair.
“Open it,” someone ordered. The sack covering nearly her entire body was removed as instructed. Standing before her was a tall man with emerald eyes and shoulder-length black hair tied back.
“Rangga,” Laras thought.
At last, she was looking at him. One of the characters in the novel. Laras didn’t recognize him because of his physical appearance, but because of the coin he was now playing with. Only one person in the novel matched this situation and habit: the leader of the largest guild in Arcapura—the Cendrawasih Guild—Rangga Wiraatmaja.