The middle-aged man glanced at the empty bottle, drained the last of the strong liquor from his cup, and nonchalantly wiped his hands on the curtain: "Come, let me show you the decay cloaked under the bright façade of the fortress."
With that, he put down the glass and headed towards the banquet hall.
Winters paused for a moment, then quickly followed.
...
Meanwhile, in another mansion in the northern district.
An undercover agent of the Empire Security Committee, a dark-faced man from Lexi Brothers Trading Company, was reporting to another man wearing an iron mask.
The dark-faced man stood respectfully in front of the table, not daring to slack off in the slightest.
The man in the iron mask spoke with a slightly muffled voice, asking, "Da Granashi?"
"Yes," the dark-faced man nodded vigorously: "I've got hold of the registry, and confirmed that surname."
"Sounds like a surname from the Mountain Front Territory," the masked man pondered: "An exiled family?"
