Trauma creates change you don't choose. Healing is about creating change you do choose.
And to prove his point, he decided to confront his trauma.
It was finally a weekend.
And Brandon decided to use his weekend for three objectives.
To progress his system.
Use his curse affinity in actual combat.
And,
...To confront his trauma.
After a five hour commute, he had finally arrived at the place that changed his views.
He was back in Everglade.
Stepping foot into the city, certain memories flashed in his mind.
Ones he would rather not want to remember.
But he needed to do this.
It was the only place he currently knew with no regulations outside the city.
In other words, the forest.
Unlike Raven, he didn't have the system dungeons.
Progressing was quite difficult. He'd only been progressing due to quests that the system gave him.
But it had been awhile since he received a quest.
Donning the mirage mask, Brandon made his way to the heart of the city.
Clank!
The entrance shut as he entered the city's tavern.
The putrid scent of alcohol immediately registered in his nose.
Dim light from the hearth flickered. Wooden tables and benches filled the room. People sat drinking, talking quietly, or staring into the fire.
A few meters away from the entrance, a bartender stood. Behind him were alcohol bottles and he was currently wiping a wooden mug with a towel.
Adorning a blazer, Brandon walked calm steps towards the bartender. The tip of the blazer fluttered at each step he took.
His appearance instantly grabbed the attention of everyone in the room as all eyes fell on him.
Taking a seat, the bartender spared him no glance as he continued wiping the mug.
"Kuhum... "
But as he cleared his throat, the bartender still paid no heed to him.
Brandon took it as a sign to continue.
"How bad is the forest situation?"
He could've asked the nearby guild. The guild would most likely have the information as well.
But he wanted to go incognito. Bartenders had eyes and ears for these kinds of situations.
The only way he would speak is if money was brought into the table.
At least, that's how they work from the novels Brandon had read.
"..."
To his surprise, the same cliche was happening right in front of him.
The bartender outright ignored him.
"...Typical bartender."
He muttered under his breath. He could see the bartender's brows twitch slightly.
"Let me ask again."
Clink!
Flipping a silver coin, as soon as it landed on the table, the bartender's eyes briefly darted.
"..."
So he wanted more.
Clink!
Another silver coin. But it was only enough for the bartender to meet his gaze.
Clink!
"Sorry, Sir. Didn't notice you. Anything you would like to order?"
He tossed something towards Brandon in which he was able to catch with ease.
Lowering his head to look at what Smith gave him, Brandon's eyes widened.
It was a black card.
On it, displayed a peculiar logo. One that Brandon was unfamiliar with.
Twilight Syndicate.
At that, Brandon sat back down and continued to converse with Smith.
Apparently, the tavern was an extension of an underground channel where the lowest of the low make their shady dealings.
'As expected...'
One of the reasons he decided to go to a tavern instead of the guild was because taverns were filled with shady characters.
It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that most of the people present were criminals or shadow brokers.
After all, Everglade was a city that was far out in the countryside.
Criminals would seek refuge in such cities.
Clink!
As Brandon flipped a gold coin on the table, Smith went on to elaborate.
The branch was established years ago, way before David had turned into a Wraith.
When people started going missing, the branch shut down and tried to leave the city.
But they soon stopped trying to leave when their people went missing as well.
There was a scarcity in information as to what had actually happened.
The branch had only started resuming operations recently, ever since they found out the truth of the matter.
Brandon was one of their first customers. Which was why he was given the privilege for a black card.
He was then debriefed that the card could be used for any of the organization's branches.
It had certain privileges. Such as being the first in line for important information.
He still had to pay. But the card offered him a ten percent discount.
Though they went on to live their lives for a while, their skills were still up to par.
Finding information about the Academy's business in Everglade two weeks ago was nothing to them.
"Do you want to know what happened in the forest two weeks ago?"
"..."
Brandon pondered for a while.
He was one of the people involved. He didn't need to know.
But it was a chance to know just how good the organization was.
Clink!
And thus Smith started to recount.
The information was quite lacking, which was a contrast to Smith's confident tone.
But the details were the same.
Astrea Academy students gathering in the forest at night.
A fire that seemed to spread out and engulfed the forest.
The sound of children laughing resounding in the air.
It wasn't detailed. But Smith had the gist of what happened.
But the honesty was there.
Smith didn't exaggerate to fill the gaps of the entire ordeal.
It only made sense that the information was lacking. They had a shortage of brokers due to most of them going missing throughout the years.
Just being able to gather that much was quite a feat and Brandon could agree.
"I see."
That was about much Brandon needed to know at the moment.
Brandon then stood up from his seat.
Clink!
"For the card."
Nodding, Smith started scanning the coins on the table.
"Pleasure doing business with you, Ripper."