A cool sea breeze blew gently from the direction of the harbor, and Port Franklin, under the blue sky and white clouds, remained as prosperous as ever.
The city presents a vibrant and dynamic picture. Sunlight shines on the sparkling sea, and countless ships, like giant beasts, slowly sail into the harbor, their sails intertwined and masts like a forest.
The docks were bustling with activity as workers busily loaded and unloaded goods. Treasures from all over the world were piled up like mountains, with spices, silks, porcelain, gold and silver gleaming alluringly in the sunlight.
In a tavern in the port area, languages from all over the world mingled together. Merchants haggled loudly, sailors told stories of distant lands, and the air was filled with the salty sea breeze and the smell of alcohol.
Behind the bar, the pub owner, Clemente, lounged leisurely in a wicker chair, a beer in both hands. He was even fatter than a few years ago, with a few more wrinkles on his forehead. Actually, he didn't need to be here; the staff would take care of serving customers. But Clemente just liked the bustling, noisy atmosphere of the lobby. Drinking beer and listening to the boasts of customers from all over the country was his favorite after-lunch treat.
When she was slightly tipsy, Clemente suddenly recalled that afternoon ten years ago.
At that time, he also ran a tavern, or rather, an entertainment venue that combined a tavern and a brothel. But he also had another identity in secret: he was the Pirate Leader " Loach's " informant in Port Franklin, using the convenience of his special business to gather intelligence for the pirates.
Later, at some inadvertent step, Alda's navy learned of their dealings with pirates.
That afternoon, several naval officers started making a ruckus in their private room. Clemente went to deal with it, but was immediately pinned to the ground as soon as he entered. The officers immediately closed the door, gagged Clemente, and hung him up for a good beating until he confessed to colluding with pirates—back then, the Earl's henchmen were just that simple and brutal in their actions, though things have improved a lot in recent years.
Under duress, Clemente, writhing in pain and terrified, quickly agreed to cooperate with the Alda navy. From then on, his tavern transformed from a gathering place for pirate intelligence into a gathering place for naval intelligence.
Unaware that Clemente had changed his clients, the false intelligence Clemente provided to the " Loach " pirate group played a crucial role in the annihilation of the group, enabling the navy to successfully destroy it.
In light of Clemente's contributions after his defection, Lord Paul Greiman, who was then still an Earl, decided to change his punishment to imprisonment. After all, he had been an informant for the pirates for so many years, and punishment was inevitable—his tavern would continue to gather intelligence for the navy, and he was not allowed to leave Port Franklin without permission.
Over the years, his pub has grown several times over, but due to the "reform and change" reforms in Lakeheart Town and the annual high-intensity crackdowns on prostitution, his original special business was forced to cease operations. Under the unified arrangement of City Hall, the girls either went to work or got married and lived normal lives. Clemente's pub became a place that simply provides food and lodging.
Due to its excellent location and large number of customers, the tavern continues to serve as a naval intelligence gathering point. The navy also pays a considerable sum of money every year and helps deal with some difficult customers. This makes Clemente feel that she has found a powerful patron and she is determined to continue serving Alda's navy.
He had long since served his sentence and witnessed firsthand the dramatic transformation of this port city, from a small port town into a metropolis with a permanent population of over a hundred thousand. Clemente felt a deep sense of pride whenever he thought about the city's changes.
It was he who helped the Alda navy wipe out the wicked pirates and remove the stumbling block to the city's development— Clemente had long buried his dark history of serving the pirates and being forced to reform after being severely beaten, and he did not want to recall it at all.
For some reason, he remembered that afternoon when he was brutally beaten up.
A loud crash interrupted Clemente's reverie as the tavern door was pushed open, and the cold wind that rushed in made Clemente shiver.
He got up from the deck chair and looked out, and saw a cloaked figure appear in the doorway, walking slowly toward the bar. In the candlelight, the nearly six-foot-tall figure cast a long shadow on the floor.
Clemente stood up, intending to personally greet the guest.
The cloak's shadow obscured the other person's face, but a cool, clear voice rang out: "Check-in!"
It turned out to be a woman.
Clemente replied, "Dear guest, fifty copper coins a night."
As the woman reached out to take out her money, Clemente couldn't help but glance at her. The woman's hand was like white jade, with long and slender fingers.
"She must be a beauty!" Clement, who had worked in the sex industry, was very confident in his judgment.
"She must be a beauty!"
Suddenly, a sentence echoed in the lobby that perfectly matched Clemente's thoughts.
Clemente frowned and saw a drunken man stagger up from the table and walk towards them with unsteady steps.
The drunkard stopped at the bar, turned around and looked at his equally drunk companions at the same table, and shouted, "Hahaha, you guys have to pay for my drinks for five days in a row!"
"You'll talk after you win the bet!" his drunken companions cheered, raising their glasses.
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As the female guest turned around, the drunkard, whom her companion called House, suddenly grabbed her cloak and ripped it off.
The woman's appearance was immediately revealed to everyone.
The first thing people noticed was her long, silvery-white hair, which cascaded down to her waist like a waterfall, with tiny ice crystals seemingly clinging to the ends, shimmering under the lamplight.
When everyone's gaze fell upon her face, their hearts involuntarily skipped a beat. Her face was somewhat pale, but incredibly beautiful and delicate, like a polished white jade stone. Her pupils were ice-blue, as if they were the heart of a lake frozen for a thousand years.
She had a great figure, probably an Adventurer, wearing a black leather armor that tightly hugged her muscular body. Her cinched waistline suddenly extended into a smooth curve, her slender waist making one want to reach out and hug her.
The drunkard who ripped off the woman's cloak stared at her blankly, the result of which was beyond his expectations.
Just as everyone was marveling at her beauty, the woman standing quietly in front of the bar suddenly raised her hand.
In an instant, everyone present felt a chill descend upon the tavern.