Oldman Dunn glanced around to ensure that the young scholar was indeed gone. Satisfied that he was no longer being followed, he briskly moved towards his intended destination.
The streets of Klover were bustling with activity, merchants setting up their stalls, and locals going about their daily routines.
But he maintained a vigilant eye, making sure nobody followed him. He had learned to be cautious, especially in a city he was unfamiliar with.
Carefully unfolding the map he had been given, Oldman Dunn navigated the labyrinthine streets with a cautious step. It was a hand-drawn map, not the most detailed or accurate, but it provided enough guidance to lead him to the address of his "relative's house."
As he made his way through the city, he avoided attracting unnecessary attention, blending in with the crowd of people bustling around him.
The buildings around him were a mix of old and new, some adorned with vibrant colours, while others stood in muted shades of stone and wood.
After some time, he arrived at the address marked on the map. It led him to a quaint little house tucked away in a quiet corner of the city. The house appeared unremarkable from the outside, just like any other in the neighbourhood.
With cautious steps, Oldman Dunn approached the front door.
He glanced around, making sure nobody was watching, before taking out the key he had been given. With a soft click, the door opened, revealing the interior of the quaint little house.
As he stepped inside, the scent of dust and stale air greeted him, hinting at the long period of disuse. He found the interior to be just as unremarkable as the exterior.
The interior of the house was dimly lit, with rays of sunlight filtering through the dusty windows. Cobwebs adorned the corners, and the wooden floor creaked under his weight.
It was evident that the house had been uninhabited for a considerable time.
The furniture was simple and functional, with no signs of luxury or extravagance. It was clear that the house had been kept intentionally low-key, avoiding any attention that might draw unwanted eyes.
He explored further and noticed a door leading to a basement.
Intrigued, he opened it and descended the creaky stairs. In the dim light, he discovered a room that seemed to have been converted into a study or workspace.
"Nice! They chose a good house as a base of operation," Oldman thought to himself, impressed by the thoughtful choice of his superior.
Determined to maintain the cover of the covert operation, Oldman Dunn decided to discreetly clean up the house, making it look more lived-in and less abandoned.
He arranged the furniture, dusted off the shelves, and even placed a few personal items strategically to add an authentic touch.
It's kinda weird if the house was left in an abandoned state as it was essential to maintain the facade that this was indeed the home of his supposed relative.
The role of this so-called relative was played by none other than his subordinate, Dorothy who is working as a palace maid.
The said subordinate mentioned Klover as her hometown for background purposes. Luckily, the Blueriver Palace doesn't bother to go as far as to investigate and verify the information in person.
Once he finished, the house transformed into a believable residence. The clean interior now bore the marks of someone living there, giving no hint of its real purpose.
Satisfied with his work, Oldman Dunn stepped back and assessed the result.
"Now, let's see if this will be enough to keep our cover intact," he mumbled to himself.
In the quiet solitude of the room, Oldman Dunn took a moment to rest, allowing his mind to wander and strategize. Investigating the ducal family was no easy task, especially when operating under the veil of secrecy.
This city is where the Klover family are based and they wielded considerable influence and power here.
Feeling that there were no immediate answers to his questions, Oldman Dunn decided to clear his mind by taking a stroll around the city.
As he stepped outside, he let the rhythm of the city wash over him, immersing himself in the bustling atmosphere.
The cobbled streets led him through a myriad of sights and sounds. He walked past markets where merchants passionately called out their wares, enticing passersby with their colourful displays.
After some time, the old man found himself drawn to the tavern. The sign hanging above the entrance read "The Local's Best."
He pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The tavern was not as lively as he thought it would be, filled with the laughter and chatter of patrons.
Instead, he was greeted by a mellow atmosphere that lay somewhere between lively and sombre.
Though it was nearing lunchtime, the tavern was not buzzing with the raucous laughter of the crowd.
Finding a vacant table near the corner, Oldman Dunn settled into a wooden chair, choosing to blend into the ambience rather than stand out.
The waitress, with a friendly smile, approached him. "What can I get for you?"
"I'll have a cup of tea, please," Oldman Dunn requested with a warm smile.
The waitress nodded and headed back to fulfil his order, leaving the old man to quietly observe his surroundings.
While waiting, Oldman Dunn perked his ears, trying to discreetly listen to the nearby conversations. The tavern's gentle murmur allowed him to pick up bits and pieces of the discussions around him.
"...heard they suffered a crushing defeat down south," one man muttered, shaking his head sadly.
"Yeah, seems like a real disaster," another replied. "Those soldiers must have seen some tough times."
"And did you hear about the duke's daughter, Sarika Klover?" a woman chimed in, her voice hushed. "Rumors are spreading like wildfire. They say she's been captured and taken as a prisoner of war!"
"Prisoner of war?" another man exclaimed, clearly taken aback. "That's a dangerous situation for the duke's family. He must be devastated."
"I can only imagine," the woman replied solemnly. "They say the duke is doing everything in his power to negotiate her release, but it's not looking good."
"Speaking of the duke, is there any of you who would apply for the job?"
"You mean as a gardener?" one of the men scoffed. "Nah! I don't want to work with nobles, even if they pay me well."
"Right, one wrong move, and you're dead," another man added, his tone cautious.
"But it also can be considered as an opportunity," the woman chimed in thoughtfully. "Working for the duke's family would come with certain privileges and connections."
As the conversation drifted to other topics, Oldman Dunn took mental notes of their comments, realizing that employment within the duke's estate might provide valuable access and insights for his mission. He quietly muttered, "An opportunity indeed..."
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