Journey to Become the Zenith

A Smile Before the Trap (Part 1)

Inside the tavern...

The assassin’s face nearly twitched.

His heart plummeted into his stomach.

What the fuck?!

Did someone put a fucking curse on me?!

The curse assassin sat frozen for the briefest instant.

He had spent years surviving by trusting his instincts.

Those instincts had saved him from countless impossible situations.

Now...

Every one of them screamed the same warning.

Run.

Unfortunately...

He couldn’t.

His fingers tightened around the wooden spoon until his knuckles turned pale.

Without moving his head, he carefully observed the newcomers from the corner of his eye.

Victor.

Clara.

Aria.

And standing a short distance away near the entrance...

Videl.

The people he least wanted to meet had all gathered inside the same tavern.

For one horrifying moment, he wondered if fate itself had decided to mock him.

Impossible...

This can’t be a coincidence...

Can it...?

The pressure pressing against his chest became almost unbearable.

He forced himself to inhale slowly.

Then exhale.

Again.

Again.

His heartbeat gradually steadied, though only on the surface.

Inside, panic threatened to consume him.

...

The tavern itself had been lively only moments earlier.

Warm lanterns illuminated the wooden interior.

The scent of roasted meat, bread, ale, and smoke filled the air.

Several musicians had been lazily playing in one corner before the doors opened.

Now...

Everything had fallen silent.

Every eye inside the tavern turned toward Victor.

Not everyone stared for the same reason.

Some of the customers were ordinary townspeople.

Only two or three days had passed since Fantom City survived the devastating undead invasion.

Many of them had personally witnessed Victor standing against the terrifying necromancer during the city’s darkest hour.

To them...

Victor wasn’t merely another adventurer.

He was one of the heroes who had helped save the city.

Their gazes were filled with admiration.

Respect.

Curiosity.

Others...

Had entirely different reasons.

Several rough-looking men sitting near the back instinctively lowered their eyes.

They weren’t part of Eon’s criminal organization.

They were simply small-time thieves, smugglers, gamblers, and troublemakers who often gathered inside this tavern.

Ever since Victor’s reputation spread throughout Fantom City...

None of them wished to attract his attention.

Stories about him had already become exaggerated beyond belief.

Some claimed he smiled while defeating monsters.

Others swore he had cut down countless undead without taking a single step backward.

Whether those stories were true hardly mattered anymore.

Fear had a way of creating legends.

The assassin noticed all of this immediately.

Good...

Their attention isn’t only on me.

That realization offered him the smallest measure of relief.

Victor calmly swept his golden eyes across the tavern.

His expression remained relaxed.

A gentle smile rested on his handsome face.

The intimidating silence lasted another heartbeat before he chuckled softly.

"Sorry."

His warm voice broke the tension.

"I didn’t mean to disturb everyone’s meal."

He casually raised one hand in greeting.

"I’m just here to talk to a friend of mine."

"So all of you can go back to what you were doing."

The atmosphere loosened slightly.

Several customers exchanged uncertain glances.

Victor’s smile widened just enough to put everyone at ease.

"Oh..."

"And in celebration of the creation of New Fantom..."

"Drinks are on me!"

The tavern became silent...

For exactly one second.

Then—

"YEAH!"

The entire room erupted into cheers.

Laughter immediately replaced the earlier tension.

Someone slammed a mug against the table.

Another customer burst into loud laughter.

Even the musicians resumed playing with renewed enthusiasm.

Victor reached into his coat and casually tossed a heavy pouch filled with gold toward one of the stunned waitresses.

She barely managed to catch it.

"T-T-This is..."

Victor nodded.

"Make sure nobody leaves thirsty."

"As long as everyone drinks responsibly..."

"Tonight is my treat."

The waitress bowed repeatedly.

"Thank you, Sir Victor!"

Within moments, waitresses hurried throughout the tavern carrying fresh mugs of ale.

The cheerful atmosphere spread like wildfire.

Soon every customer held a drink high above their heads.

One burly man stood upon a chair.

"To New Fantom!"

Everyone raised their mugs together.

"TO NEW FANTOM!"

Laughter echoed throughout the tavern.

Wooden mugs clashed together.

Beer splashed across tables.

For the first time since the undead invasion...

Many people smiled without forcing themselves.

The city still carried fresh scars.

Families still mourned loved ones.

Broken buildings remained scattered throughout Fantom City.

Yet tonight...

For just a little while...

People chose to celebrate survival instead of mourning loss.

Victor quietly observed those smiles.

His own became slightly softer.

Good.

People need moments like this.

Otherwise despair takes root far too easily.

Across the room...

The assassin also lifted his mug.

He laughed together with everyone else.

His acting remained flawless.

Outwardly...

He looked like any other grateful customer enjoying free drinks.

Inwardly...

His mind was racing.

Stay calm.

Don’t look at Victor.

Don’t look nervous.

He deliberately focused on his meal.

Each movement had to appear natural.

Every bite.

Every swallow.

Every breath.

Leaving now wasn’t an option.

If he suddenly stood up and walked away...

The entire tavern would notice.

More importantly...

Videl already seemed suspicious of him for reasons he couldn’t understand.

Running would only confirm those suspicions.

No...

I have to stay.

Eat.

Drink.

Smile.

Act like everyone else.

Normally...

Pretending to be another ordinary citizen required almost no effort.

Acting had been his greatest talent since childhood.

He could become anyone.

Disappear into any crowd.

Lie without blinking.

Today...

Everything felt different.

Victor’s mere presence weighed upon him like a mountain.

The pressure was so overwhelming that lifting a simple spoon suddenly felt incredibly difficult.

His hand trembled almost imperceptibly.

Control yourself...

You’re just eating.

Nothing is wrong.

He slowly scooped another spoonful of stew.

The scent of herbs and roasted meat rose from the bowl.

Ordinarily...

It would have smelled delicious.

Today...

His stomach churned violently.

Every bite threatened to come back up.

Even breathing felt strangely difficult.

Still...

He forced the spoon toward his mouth.

Just as it was about to reach his lips—

A shadow stopped beside his table.

Then a calm, familiar voice spoke.

"Hey..."

"Is this seat free?"

The assassin froze.

The spoon remained suspended halfway to his mouth.

Everything around him disappeared.

The music.

The laughter.

The conversations.

It all faded into silence.

Only the frantic pounding of his own heart remained.

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