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A spark ignited in Seraphina's eyes as she recounted the recent relocation of the Fingers. Previously nestled in some hidden den, they'd made a conspicuous move to Blackwood Manor, situated smack dab in Lord Maison's territory. The timing, coupled with the envoy's connection to the same lord, painted a damning picture.

It was no random coincidence; it screamed of a tangled web of deceit, with Le Gor himself as a potential spider at its centre. David leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful frown creasing his brow. The idyllic image of a peaceful county was rapidly dissolving, replaced by a landscape fraught with hidden agendas and veiled threats.

The weight of this newfound knowledge settled upon him, a heavy cloak replacing the naive optimism he might have harboured. This wasn't just about forging a business, it was about navigating a treacherous political minefield, with every misstep potentially leading to a very real, very final end. A smile twisted David's lips.

"Power grabs and hidden agendas," he muttered, the words laced with a cynicism that belied his youthful appearance. "Seems politics rears its ugly head no matter where you hide, doesn't it?" Seraphina's brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?" she pressed, the simple phrase sparking a flurry of questions in her mind. David's smile grew wider, but held a hint of secrecy.

"Just a little something I possess," he revealed, the cryptic hint of a businessman about to unveil his secret weapon or person. "A gem, if you will, to ensure the smooth running of my... enterprise." His choice of words caused Seraphina's confusion to deepen. "Enterprise?" she echoed, the Earthly term foreign to her ears. David, sensing her bewilderment, waved a dismissive hand.

"Forget it," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Speaking of which, let's pay my esteemed uncle a visit. He must be itching to hear about the brawl at Blackwood Manor. Might as well give him the first-hand account, wouldn't you say?" With a flourish, he pushed himself out of his seat. Seraphina gaped at him, her mind struggling to catch up.

"Didn't you even listen to what I just said?" she finally burst out, exasperation lacing her voice. David winked, completely unfazed. "Crystal clear, my dear. But trust me, follow my lead... as your new owner," he added, the last word dripping with a hint of mockery. Seraphina, for the first time, felt a flicker of something close to fear.

"Luna," David called out, his voice carrying an undercurrent of command. "Shadows." A muffled grunt came from beneath the table where Luna had been curled up, fast asleep. She stirred, blinking blearily at David. "Huh? What?" she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep. "Disappear," David instructed, his voice firm but gentle.

"Shadows, remember? Until I call you." Luna grumbled, a pout forming on her face. "But I don't wanna," she protested, a childish whine escaping her lips. David sighed, a hint of amusement softening his features. He knelt before her, patting her head with a single, affectionate stroke. A quick peck on the forehead did the trick.

"Do this for me, would you?" he purred, the playful glint in his eyes melting her resistance. With a resigned sigh, Luna closed her eyes. A ripple of darkness engulfed her, then vanished, leaving only an empty space where the Fenrir had been moments before. Silence descended upon them once more, broken only by the murmur of patrons in the tavern.

David gestured towards the stare where they would make their way to the door with a flourish. "Shall we go, then?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Seraphina, still grappling with the whirlwind of emotions David had unleashed, could only nod mutely.

As they stepped out into the bustling street, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of a game she didn't fully understand, a game where the enigmatic David held all the cards. David, ever the curious explorer in uncharted territory, cast an imploring glance at Seraphina.

"I'm not exactly familiar with the layout of this charming little town," he admitted, a hint of sheepishness colouring his voice. Seraphina's eyebrows shot up. Was this man a pampered prince, plucked from a gilded cage and thrust into the vibrant chaos of the marketplace for the first time? "You've never been outside before?" she deadpanned, a flicker of disbelief dancing in her eyes.

As they navigated the bustling streets, a cacophony of sights and sounds assaulted David's senses. Merchants, their voices hoarse from hawking their wares, jostled for space with lumbering carriages driven by gruff men. The air buzzed with a frenetic energy that was both exhilarating and overwhelming.

This wasn't the pixelated fantasy he had devoured through anime and the novels recommended by his earth-bound friend, Silent3. This was real, vibrant, and unlike anything he'd ever encountered. It was magical, not in the fantastical sense, but in the sheer aliveness of it all. A stray thought flickered in the back of his mind, a wisp of memory like a half-forgotten dream. A chatterbox of a maid.

The memory was fleeting, pushed aside by the urgency of the present. He had an uncle to visit, secrets to uncover, and a game to play in this new, thrilling world. Navigating the bustling marketplace with David proved to be an exercise in frustration for Seraphina. Every gleaming trinket, every exotic spice, every brightly dyed garment lured him like a siren's song.

He darted from stall to stall, a barrage of wide-eyed questions pouring from his lips. "What's this contraption?" he'd exclaim, pointing at a whirring contraption that puffed out rings of iridescent smoke. The befuddled vendor would stammer an explanation, his words drowned out by the next shiny object catching David's attention. Then came the elixir merchant.

With the guilelessness of a babe lost in a candy store, David fixated on a vial filled with a swirling, opalescent liquid. "What's this?" he inquired, his voice brimming with curiosity. A lecherous grin cracked the merchant's face. "Ah, young sir, a discerning eye you have!" he rasped, holding up the vial like a precious gemstone.

"This, my friend, is a rare elixir, imported all the way from the fabled land of Neil, where those seductive succubi dwell!" He leaned in conspiratorially. "Just one drop of this magic potion, and the ladies will be lining up at your door, singing your praises!" Seraphina's cheeks burned with a blush the colour of a ripe summer berry.

Before David could be further intoxicated by the merchant's suggestive words, she grabbed his arm with a steely grip. "He won't be needing that," she declared, her voice laced with barely concealed disgust. Confusion furrowed David's brow. "But what about—" he began, his protest cut short by Seraphina's exasperated sigh.

"My lord," she interjected, her voice laced with a hint of desperation, "an elixir of such potency carries a hefty price tag. We're talking five thousand Terran gold." A slow realization dawned on David's face. Money. Of course, money. He was a noble, yes, but a newly minted one, currently residing in the realm of empty pockets.

Shame tinged his cheeks as he acknowledged the burden such a purchase would place on Seraphina. The allure of the succubus-attracting elixir quickly faded, replaced by the more pressing need of maintaining a shred of dignity. "Let's… just move on," he muttered, his voice barely a whisper. Seraphina, with a hint of relief mixed with amusement, led him away from the temptation of the marketplace.

David might be a lord in name, but this bustling world held countless lessons beyond his rat-like upbringing, lessons that promised to be both frustrating and exhilarating in equal measure. As they weaved through the bustling marketplace, Seraphina, still clutching David's hand like a lifeline, couldn't resist voicing her concern.

"So, what happens once we reach this noble elder's mansion?" David shrugged, nonchalance etched across his features. "What do you think? I vanquished the Fingers, that's it. Mystery solved, crisis averted." Seraphina's brow furrowed. "But what if the esteemed elder was the very same employer who placed a contract on your head?" A playful glint sparked in David's eyes.

"Now that, my dear Seraphina, would be a stroke of luck." "Luck?" she echoed, incredulous. Was this man truly off his rocker? "Think about it," David explained, his voice a low murmur. "First, with his hired muscles neutralized, he'd be forced to back off.

Second," he added with a mischievous grin, "if he's truly brazen enough to finish the job himself, well, let's just say I'm quite adept at avoiding unpleasant encounters by hiding in the shadows." A wry smile spread across his face as he continued, "Now, assuming the worst – confirming the dear old uncle is indeed the puppet master behind the assassination attempt..." He trailed off, his hand tracing a chillingly familiar gesture across his throat.

Seraphina could only gape at him. Here she was, expecting a fiery confrontation, a valiant stand against hidden enemies, and David's plan involved evasion and a morbid sense of amusement? This intricate web of thought processes he spun was as bewildering as it was strangely captivating.