"A big move? What big move? Why so secretive?"
John raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued.
The Class Association wasn't some petty street gang. In Winterhold, it wielded significant influence and power.
"I'm just one of the errand runners on the outside. If you're really interested, our squad leader's just ahead. I'll take you to him," said Monk, casting a quick glance at John's dark sunglasses. He wasn't sure if John could actually see through them, but ultimately decided to lead him personally.
After all, from what Monk knew, John held an incredibly special status within the Class Association—far more than he let on.
John considered it for a moment, then gave a nod.
"Alright, take me to him."
Soon, under Monk's guidance, John arrived at a local bar.
Although it was still daytime, the place was buzzing with activity. The air was thick with the mingling scents of beer, cocktails, and something faintly spicy. People came and went with loud chatter, creating a vibrant, almost chaotic atmosphere.
Behind the bar, Captain Stanley, who had just been sharing drinks with a few of his subordinate awakeners, immediately noticed John's approach. He set down his glass and strode over with a grin.
"Well, well, John! I've invited you plenty of times before and you always turned me down. Now that you're here, you'd better enjoy yourself!"
Stanley's voice was warm and hearty. He ushered John over to the bar and immediately slid a freshly-mixed cocktail across the counter.
"Come on, warm yourself up with a drink!"
John waved a hand dismissively. "I'll pass on the drink. I came because I'm curious—what exactly is this 'big move' you're all talking about? What's with the secrecy?"
Stanley's smile faded slightly. He glanced around at the others, then waved his hand to signal his men to clear out.
Once the bar was quieter, he leaned in closer and lowered his voice.
"You haven't heard? The Killer Guild recently issued a secret bounty. They want us to locate a seventeen-year-old girl, dead or alive. Just providing accurate intel is worth 1000 silver coins."
John's eyes narrowed slightly.
"If we refuse to cooperate—or worse, try to hide her location—it's considered an act of defiance against the Killer Guild," Stanley continued, his expression tightening with unease.
"Killer Guild? They're really that arrogant?" John asked, noting the flicker of fear in Stanley's eyes.
Stanley nodded slowly.
If the Class Association held sway over Winterhold, then the Killer Guild were the overlords of several cities in the surrounding region. They weren't even in the same league. There was simply no competing with them.
"That bounty is tempting, sure. But if the Killer Guild is going to such lengths to find this girl, then she must be deeply entangled in something dangerous—far beyond what we know," Stanley added with a sigh.
John nodded as the image of Celia immediately surfaced in his mind.
Could she be the target?
The thought had only just formed when he forcibly suppressed it.
Regardless of whether Celia was the person the Killer Guild sought, she was now his Class Conductor. He couldn't afford to let anything happen to her.
After exchanging a few more casual words with Stanley, John promptly turned and left the bar.
Meanwhile, a few of the newer members of the Class Association stared curiously at John's retreating figure. One of them tilted his head and whispered:
"Captain Stanley's a high-level, high-status awakener—and he's always aloof. Why's he being so respectful to that blind guy?"
Hearing the question, Monk gave a sly grin.
"You remember the Association's Code they made you memorize when you joined, right?"
"Of course. Ten rules. But what's that got to do with him?"
"Rule number six," Monk said with a smirk. "Never provoke a Furniture Maker. Anyone who violates this is considered to have quit the Association, permanently banned from ever rejoining."
"And he is that Furniture Maker."
The revelation made the listeners freeze in place. Monk's mind, meanwhile, drifted to events from a few years ago.
Back then, the Class Association didn't even exist.
The ruling power of their district at the time was a notorious group known as the Nightingale Club. They were involved in everything: gambling, loansharking, brothels—you name it. Their reign of terror had torn countless families apart.
Desperate citizens tried to seek justice from the city lord. But before they could even act, everyone who had planned to report them was found brutally beaten and bedridden the very next night.
It was a message. A warning.
But then came a certain moonless night. Wind howled through the city, and when dawn came, something shocking had occurred.
All the Nightingale Club's high-ranking members had vanished—as if they'd been erased from existence.
Not even a trace of them remained.
No blood.
No battle scars.
Not even signs that a struggle had taken place.
That very night, Monk had accompanied a younger Stanley—still just a small-time awakener back then—to the club to offer allegiance. Their thought at the time was simple: if you can't beat them, join them.
But what they saw that night would haunt them forever.
John emerged from the building completely unscathed, as if nothing had happened.
Moments later, sirens blared across the city.
The city guard was mobilized. Elite awakeners from Lord's Manor descended on the area.
At the time, Monk and Stanley had no idea what had happened. But in the days that followed, the truth emerged: Nightingale Club was gone, its entire leadership obliterated.
No one knew who had done it.
No bodies were found.
No battle remnants, either.
But the people they'd seen walking into the club that night were all Silver-rank awakeners or higher. And all of them were now gone.
The only one seen entering and leaving the club was John.
From that moment forward, no matter what others said or how many laughed at Velen's stories, the Class Association respected John deeply—and kept their distance.
"Monk, come here for a moment!"
Stanley's voice suddenly broke Monk out of his thoughts.
"Yes, Captain Stanley?" Monk replied as he hurried over.
"I've got something I need to deal with. Watch the bar for me and don't let anything go wrong."
Monk stiffened slightly.
"Captain, we'd all feel safer with you here. Why don't I come with you?"
Stanley gave him a side-eye. "I'm going to see your wife. You wanna come too?"
Monk chuckled awkwardly. He knew Stanley was just teasing, but the message was clear—this wasn't a request.
So he straightened up and nodded.
"Understood, Captain. I'll take good care of the bar and won't let you down!"
Stanley gave him a satisfied grin.
"Good. I see a bit of my former glory in you—I've got high hopes."
With that, he turned and left the bar in a hurry.
As Stanley disappeared down the street, Monk scanned the other members inside and then muttered:
"Actually… I've got something to take care of too. Who wants to cover for me?"
…
Back at the estate—
"You're back early!"
Celia beamed as she greeted John, her smile as bright as ever.
"So? Did you get everything we need?"