The Floating Market sprawled before them like a fever dream made of wood, rope, and desperation. Narrow walkways clung to the edges of barges and pontoon platforms, while sails and tarps served as roofs for makeshift stalls. Fishmongers bellowed over spice vendors, gamblers shouted as dice hit planks, and somewhere in the crowd, a hurdy-gurdy screeched out a medieval-sounding tune.

Justin's eyes swept from the shadowy alcoves to the high rope bridges, half-expecting an ambush at every turn. But his Dapper Set remained quiet—no sense of danger, no notifications.

Justin focused on the Ring of Hygiene. It was time to blend in a little better.

A ripple of yellow light covered him, erasing the dust and sweat of the day. His hair shrank and shaped into its neat, swept-back cut, while scruff vanished from his jaw, leaving a dramatic handlebar mustache framed by trimmed mutton chops. He examined himself in the broken mirror of a nearby clothing stall, giving a satisfied nod.

"Mutton chops? Really?" Lila said, wrinkling her nose. "Are you auditioning to be a villain in a bad street play?"

Justin smiled. "I prefer 'eccentric aristocrat with questionable morals and impeccable taste.' Besides, villains always have the best fashion."

"Debatable."

They fell silent as the path funneled them into the Floating Market's main drag. To Justin, it felt like a mad fusion of a medieval bazaar and the Old West, all floating atop the remnants of a drowned city. Shack roofs sagged beneath gutters that hissed with runoff. Street performers balanced on slacklines stretched between masts, while sallow-eyed patrons drifted like ghosts through the stench of murky river water and spice. The planks creaked with unseen currents. Everything moved subtly, making it easy to spot outsiders by the way they walked.

They ducked into a store that smelled of tallow, ink, and mothballs. The keeper, a hunched, elderly man with oversized glasses, greeted them with a grunt.

Justin picked up a fireproof pouch, not because he wanted it, but because he was after something else. He set it on the counter, producing a few silvers. The man's eyes went wide behind his glasses. Justin had vastly overpaid.

Before the man could point it out, Justin interrupted. "We're looking for a place. The Red Lantern. Heard it's worth a visit."

The man snorted. "That's putting it mildly. Biggest house of delight this side of Serenthel. Infamous all over Belmora, even in the nicer circles. Lots of lordlings like it, if you catch my drift."

Justin nodded slowly. "Aye, I do. And priests, I've noticed."

The shopkeeper shrugged. "White robes, red collars—same thing under 'em. They go. Just like the nobles do."

Justin adopted a lazy grin. "Thanks for your information. Looking to see what sort of 'wildlife' the market offers. I can find it on the main drag here?"

The man chuckled. "Aye, you won't miss it." He winked at Lila. "And don't worry, milady—they've got pretty men too, if that's your taste."

She offered a tight-lipped smile, but Justin caught the tension in her shoulders.

"Appreciate it," Justin said, and they stepped back into the market.

Back on the main walkway, Justin's skin prickled with the unmistakable sensation of being watched, but it wasn't enough to trigger a System warning. He swapped out his weapon, stowing the Cane of the Drake while wielding the Cane of Valoria. He'd have Gentleman's Rebuff if things got tense or an arrow was shot from an unseen location. Lila noticed but didn't comment.

As the shopkeeper had said, the Red Lantern was impossible to miss. It practically loomed over the Floating Market, stitched together from barges and silk-draped scaffolding. Red, enchanted lanterns hung from its exterior, casting a sickly yellow glow.

Justin adjusted his fedora as they approached. "Subtle."

Lila arched a brow. "Screams 'we don't traffic humans' real loud."

A doorman stood by the entrance—not a brute, but a tall, graceful man in a tailcoat and gloves. His class tag hovered: Level 6 Socialite. He gave a theatrical bow and gestured them inside without a word.

"Seems we're expected," Justin said.

"And I doubt that's a good thing."

Inside, harp music floated through the air, though Justin couldn't see the source. The interior defied logic—the tented space seemed larger than it should be. Silks in every hue, perfume that clung, fake laughter like broken bells. Men and women in various stages of undress lounged on settees, sofas, or overlarge chairs, flirting with clients, most of them older and draped in rich clothing. Justin caught sight of one, a pot-bellied man with mutton chops just like him, being escorted toward the back, his cheeks plump and rosy. A Level 18 Knight.

They didn't have to wait long to be approached.

"You must be the firebrands I've heard so much about," said a honeyed female voice.

A woman descended a spiral staircase that must have led to an upper deck of the barge, each step deliberate and theatrical. She wore a crimson corset gown with high slits, her every movement fluid and exaggerated like a stage performance. Her pale, powdered skin contrasted sharply with her vivid red lips and kohl-rimmed eyes. Her perfume was subtle and strangely calming. Enchanted, a quick glance revealed that Lila's eyes were a bit hooded. Justin stepped on her foot, and she sprang to alertness. The lady's class tag hovered above her: Level 14 Thespian.

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It was difficult to determine her age, but Justin guessed she was in her late forties.

"Welcome to the Red Lantern," she purred. "I am Madame Yselle, mistress of this establishment. If you've come seeking pleasure, rest assured you're in the right place. Our selections cater to every appetite, from the decadent to the divine."

Justin gave a shallow bow. "Madame Yselle. I assume you know why we're here."

"Mmm. You're here to play hero, of course. Charming. Come, let's not perform at the door."

Justin smiled. "I think not. Unless you are willing to bind yourself to a magical agreement ensuring our safe conduct here for one hour thereafter."

Her smile didn't falter. "Whatever you wish. I am familiar with such skills. But rest assured, I only wish to talk."

Justin established a basic agreement through the System, enough for the situation. She accepted.

[Truce established for the next hour.]

"Now that that's taken care of, please follow me."

She led them to a private lounge screened by a filigreed partition. The cushions were too soft, the lighting too perfect. Everything here was designed to disarm.

"I assume you're looking for our... recent guests," Yselle said, pouring herself tea already prepared on the table. Her air was one of disinterest, but Justin could feel the tension beneath the surface.

"You assume correctly. We're also looking for Blithe."

"Darien Blithe is our vice-master. He handles procurement, rotation, and logistics. Many of the... less savory aspects of our business fall under his purview. He is out on a job right now."

"Where are the women he brought? I am here to secure their prompt release."

"Regrettably, they are not here."

"So you're not denying their presence."

She smiled serenely. "Why would I? Everything we do here is above board. They have been sold."

"So quickly? Somehow I doubt that."

"You'd be surprised at the efficiency of our operation. They were preordered long in advance. If the buyer is not here with their coin upon arrival, they lose their preorder."

"Preorder." Justin frowned. This was much worse than he thought. The fact this was said so openly was forcing him to recalculate.

"I sense your surprise. This is a place of business. And before you quote Aranthian law, I assure you, all our documentation is as legal as it is unenforceable."

Justin stared, letting Insightful Gaze do its work... and got nothing.

And that nothing told him everything.

Her performance was so polished that even his boon couldn't parse it. No micro-expressions. No tells, no matter how hard he gazed into her eyes. She must be using an ability of her own, one powerful enough to counteract his. Fitting for the Thespian class.

Lila's hand twitched near one of her knives. "Let me guess, you 'rescued' these girls before anyone else could?"

Yselle's eyes twinkled. "Oh, darling. I rescue girls for a living. I give them purpose. Do you know how many beg to stay after their contracts end? Compared to the way some others run their establishments, I'm practically a saint."

Justin's teeth clenched. "You're complicit in human trafficking."

"I am complicit in surviving," she snapped, her mask briefly slipping. "You think I started here? That I wasn't once them? Spare me. This world eats those who can't find a place in it. I found mine." She set down her teacup and straightened her shawl. "But here's what you don't understand. You kill Blithe? Someone worse fills the gap. You tear down the Red Lantern? Two more pop up by morning. And the people who truly benefit? They don't bleed when you stab them. At least I give these ladies—and gentlemen, too—a safe place to operate. Many are even happy to be here. Such as happiness can be in this imperfect world."

"Not the ones I saw today."

"Not every garden blooms, dear. We prune what we can and make the best of what's left."

Justin leaned forward, ignoring the chill he felt from that line. "Who are these people who truly benefit? The ones who don't bleed?"

Her smile returned, colder this time. "I would normally have escorted you out of our establishment by now. But now I realize a fundamental truth. There is no danger in telling you, for there is absolutely nothing you can do about it, for you are reckoning with forces far greater than you can even begin to guess. You're staying at the Golden Aurelius, yes? Don't act surprised. My information is good. It's a lovely place. Very exclusive. I've stayed there myself."

"What are you saying? That the Aurelians are somehow benefiting from this operation?"

"I'm saying the Aurelian family has a hand in every pie that matters: trade, shipping, law enforcement, pleasure. Even this place. You think Blithe runs the show? He's a contractor and a facilitator. Nothing more."

Lila shifted uneasily. "Justin... maybe we should go."

Yselle sipped her tea again. "Smart girl. Listen to her. You're sticking your foot in the river, not knowing how deep it goes."

Justin didn't move. "You know, if you're lying, I'll come back."

"And if I'm telling the truth?"

He didn't answer. Yes, he had been naive to think he could come in here, cane in hand, and rescue these women, especially if the Aurelian family was involved.

And the fact she knew where he was staying, against all odds... how had she figured that out? There was no way she could have tailed him in that area since she hadn't even been aware of him until the last hour or so.

So something in his manner had given him away. But what? Whatever the case, it meant that Blithe would know where he was staying. And if he ambushed him, and the Aurelians were involved...

Yes, definitely time to leave.

"Walk carefully, boy," Yselle said, rising with the grace of a practiced actress. "The stage you're on has more traps than you have lines. You want to survive in this town? Play your part. The stars have already been cast, and trust me, it's not you."

"We'll see about that." He nodded to Lila.

As they made their way out, Justin's interface updated.

Quest Updated: Break the Chains

You've uncovered a deeper layer of the conspiracy surrounding the Red Lantern and its operations. Perhaps you should return to the Golden Aurelius and question Lady Myrelle. She may know more about Blithe's supply chains and connections.

[You have gained 250 experience points. Your total experience is now 18,075/29,000.]

Justin thought the quest update's suggestion was a decent idea. They needed to head back anyway.

As they left the Red Lantern, the illusion of warmth seemed to dissipate. The Floating Market was still teeming with life, but now every shadow felt sharper. Every glance lingered.

"We saved twelve," Lila said quietly. "We might not save the rest. Not today, anyway."

Justin nodded. "But this isn't over."

She looked at him. "So what now? At some point, we have to admit that we're in over our heads. Maybe we can come to some sort of agreement. Clearly, we can't stay at the Aurelius anymore. I mean, the inn is bloody near their tower! By the time we get back, it might already be too late."

He exhaled. Justin realized she was right. Even if they stopped now and managed to secure a truce, they would be marked for the rest of their time in Belmora. His initial instinct that this might be a huge mistake was rearing its ugly head.

This wasn't about taking down a big monster in an isolated Vault. This monster was of a different sort, far more dangerous and insidious. A hydra where every head cut off would create three more, more than enough to swallow them whole.

"We'll figure it out," Justin said, somewhat lamely. "For now, let's get back to the inn. If anything, we'll learn more, and we'll have Alistair with us."

Lila chuckled darkly. "I'm sure he'll be pleased."

Justin was not looking forward to that conversation. The point was to stay undercover, and largely because of him, they were doing the exact opposite.

And with that thought, they disappeared into the market, headed back toward a gilded cage that suddenly didn't feel so safe anymore.

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