Published: February 1, 2026
The number of underground taverns in Astarnia is said to be anywhere from one to ten.
Trying to grasp all of these hidden places—places that should not even be known to exist—would be incredibly difficult, even among the underground taverns themselves. They are so heavily concealed, and the fewer people who know about them, the less they willingly talk about them.
The people who gather there are diverse. On the shallow end, there are street delinquents and adventurers seeking information; in the deeper parts, those who cannot walk openly in the light and those connected to them gather. If you enter unaware, you wouldn't expect any sympathy for whatever happens to you among such people.
“...Is it here?”
A man stood alone. His figure was hidden beneath a black robe, completely shrouded in the darkness of the harbor, making him unrecognizable.
At midnight, the only lights were the scattered bonfires and the occasional lamps carried by patrolling workers. In the midst of this, the man moved quietly, evading the yawning patrols, and finally reached a warehouse among those lining the harbor.
The stone warehouse was no different from the others—no larger or more special. Yet the man approached the door with certainty and quietly reached out his hand. The creak of the door echoed softly in the space where only the sound of waves could be heard.
“...”
Inside the warehouse, wooden crates and sacks were piled haphazardly.
Without any light, the man stepped slowly forward. He avoided the piled cargo blocking his way, and perhaps because his eyes had adjusted, he moved unhesitatingly toward the far wall.
Placing his hand on the wall as if searching for something, he furrowed his brow slightly at the cold and rough stone before sliding his hand along it. Then, his fingers brushed against a very small, smooth object faintly protruding from the stone wall.
A magic stone, he murmured internally, channeling mana into it. Though he was not particularly skilled in mana, this was enough if the mechanism responded to mana.
A moment later, with a faint grinding sound of stone against stone, a part of the floor opened. A ladder leading underground was revealed.
“...”
The ladder wasn’t very long. At its bottom was a cramped space with a single lamp mounted on the wall and a door that probably led to the tavern. The flickering of the flame cast unsettling shadows on the wall, so the man opened the door without hesitation.
“Welcome.”
What lay beyond was a dimly lit tavern illuminated by the lamp light.
Several wooden round tables were lined up, a counter seat at the far end, and behind it, rows of bottles that were likely rare liquors obtained through illegal means. But overall, it was no different from an ordinary tavern. Other underground taverns were similar, so nothing particularly caught the man’s attention.
With a greeting from the proprietress, the gazes of those inside turned toward him. Since he was a newcomer, the eyes from those gathered in this deep part of the underground tavern were heavy and intense.
But those gazes soon drifted away. The man carefully avoided showing any hint of suspicion as he scanned the room.
Some were taking out cards to gamble, others offering money to the information brokers, and some were simply enjoying their drinks. The tavern was far from noisy, but conversations never ceased. Among them, the man approached the silhouette of someone quietly drinking alone at the counter and spoke.
“May I have a moment?”
A murmur rippled through the tavern.
The man revealed his previously hidden wariness, looking around. Every gaze was now filled with suspicion and curiosity directed at him.
No, not all of them. The young man the man spoke to remained sitting, drinking without changing his posture.
The man knew he was addressing someone even those living in the dark world, who would normally consider such a person dangerous. He spoke cautiously, which was precisely why he chose to speak.
“I want to buy information.”
“I’ve never called myself an information broker,”