Rowan hoped Matteo would show up these days, as the kick he'd given him hadn't exactly been the weakest. It was silly to beat himself up, since he wouldn't have escaped the determined hero otherwise, but he still felt a pang of remorse as he pictured the blond with the bruise on his stomach. 

Rowan, however, was out of luck. 

It had been over a week since he'd last seen Matteo in both plain clothes and a suit. He'd almost thought the blond was avoiding him, but he'd rather hoped he was just doing the same thing he was. Checking out Amanda Smith.

Rowan still had no idea what the codes he'd found in the folders on the USB key from the safe deposit box were. The only thing he'd been able to successfully decode was the purchase agreement for a building that didn't exist according to the maps. But even that didn't stop him from checking it out in the real world. 

Although he had packed his bag a few days ago, he was still waiting to see if Matteo would show up at his door. He didn't want to miss his arrival, so he postponed his investigation until a few days later.

But now he was beginning to think Matteo wasn't going to show up, so he had no reason to linger any longer. 

With his bag in his hand and his computer in his carry-on, Rowan walked out of his apartment and made his way to the underground garage. He didn't use his car often, especially since he didn't want too many people to know his licence plate number, but now he had no choice. The address in question wasn't in Goldby City.

Rowan wasn't surprised that the two had decided to hide something valuable outside of the city, as he too had chosen the same technique. However, he wasn't so reckless as to just leave the key lying around somewhere.

…

San Dence was no different from Goldby City. At least not at first glance. The same bustling city, the same fast-paced life. And no one to ask unnecessary questions. 

Rowan didn't immediately head to the address he was looking for but instead decided to check into a hotel. On purpose he chose one of the more expensive hotels, pretending he was someone important. Although he was used to keeping to the shadows, he was taking a gamble on this mission, betting that if his plan failed and someone noticed him, they certainly wouldn't be looking amongst the wealthy class.

Moreover, one thing was not a lie. Rowan had the money.

He was greeted at the reception desk by a polite middle-aged blonde, and he dictated his reservation number to her. The key appeared in his hand a second later, and the receptionist showed him which way to take to the elevator. 

Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the only one waiting for the elevator. The brunette next to him gave him a curious look, but he didn't pay too much attention to her. She was pretty and, judging by her shoes, rich. Rowan knew her type and he was sure that was it. Underneath the expensive fur coat was no other personality than Daddy's princess.

The elevator finally reached the ground floor with a ding, and the golden doors opened. A few people stepped out, and then Rowan and the unknown woman took their place. 

Rowan was sure it wouldn't be long before the woman decided to strike up a conversation, and he wasn't wrong. 

"Is this your first time here? I'm sure I'd remember a face like yours," she spoke to him, turning so that Rowan had a better view of her. Too bad he was still only giving her a fraction of his attention, watching the door in front of him instead. 

"You're not exactly talkative, I like that. I like mysterious men," she continued to flirt, though Rowan didn't respond. 

"In that case, I must disappoint you. There's nothing mysterious about me," he spoke to her, but his gaze didn't shift to her. Instead, he watched the numbers changing on the light board. 

"I'm sure that's not true." The brunette obviously took his words as an invitation, as she stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I also like cocks," he added, finally turning his eyes on her. 

Her demeanour quickly changed, and her hand slipped back to her side at speed. Rowan smirked, and at that moment, the clinking sounded again. Before he stepped off the elevator, however, he turned to the brunette once more. 

"Daddy issues aren't as attractive as you think," he informed her and stepped out, quickly orienting himself in the hallway. 

Although he could hear the woman's screams behind him, he didn't perceive enough to understand what she was shouting in a fit of childish rage.

The moment he crossed the threshold of his temporary room, the smirk fell from his face. No more games, he had to concentrate on business. 

He dumped the bag on the bed, not caring about its contents, and instead took out his computer and all his other toys, stacking them on the bedside table. He wasn't going to risk connecting to the hotel's Wi-Fi, plus he needed to be one hundred percent familiar with the city so he could come up with a few escape plans if necessary.

Rowan never did anything by halves, and this mission was no exception. Although he had the urge to check the Legion's log data and make sure they were working on the assignment he'd sent them, he decided not to take any unnecessary risks. Hacking into their system wasn't easy, and Rowan had only done it twice so far.

Where Rowan wasn't afraid to poke at, however, was hospital and local government data. He assumed that searching for the names Theresa Farrell and Nixon Pérez was pointless, so he straight up started searching for anything related to Amanda Smith.

And surprisingly, it turned out that Ms. Amanda wasn't so careful. A few years ago, she was admitted to the hospital with injuries and her file said there had been an assault. Although it took him a few minutes, Rowan had no trouble finding an identical report, this time from the police department, which had more details written in it. 

Apparently, Amanda Smith had been attacked at the corner of Milton Street and Talbot Street as she was returning home with her groceries. Amanda claimed it was dark, so she did not see her attackers. The only thing she was sure of was that they were random thieves who wanted her money. Unsurprisingly these thieves were never found, and this only proved that this story was anything but true.

Corner of Milton Street and Talbot Street. 

It looked like Rowan had another place to explore. First, though, he was going to do it electronically.

There were no cameras at the place where Amanda claimed she'd been mugged, so he could only check the ones closest to that location.

No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn't find anything. On the particular evening in question, Rowan's system hadn't picked up Theresa's face anywhere. It was as if she hadn't even been there that night. Rowan wasn't surprised, so he decided to broaden his search. It wasn't easy to look through that much data, not only from the expanded location but also the time stamp, so Rowan's laptop quickly told him that it would take him a couple of hours.

This left Rowan with a few hours, but he wasn't going to waste it. His laptop was working even closed, so Rowan decided it was time to investigate the address. He put his gear back in his carry-on bag and opened the other bag to find some suitable clothes. He didn't want to attract attention, but he also didn't want to appear suspicious.

In black trousers and a hoodie, he looked ordinary and there was no reason for anyone to be suspicious of him. He'd hung his headphones around his neck just in case he needed a way to ignore someone, and that was his entire disguise. Revenger's suit was great, but in this case, it would be too fancy.

Rowan knew how to blend into a crowd, and in a busy city like San Dence, that wasn't a problem.

What proved to be a problem, however, was finding the address he needed. The street in question didn't exist according to the maps, but Rowan knew exactly how to solve the situation. His cell phone navigated him to the oldest antique shop in the city, and it didn't take long before he found himself standing in front of a wooden ornate door. 

The doorbell alerted to his presence, and an older man with a beard quickly appeared behind the counter in the small shop. 

"Ah, young man. Welcome to my humble shop," the man greeted him in a deep voice and cleared his throat, quickly putting his handkerchief to his mouth.

"Good afternoon, sir," Rowan greeted him, stepping closer to the counter. 

"Unnecessary formalities." The man waved his hand. "Call me Mr. Pepper." 

"Mr Pepper," Rowan repeated after him in a polite voice.

"How can I help you?" The man continued the conversation, looking pleased by Rowan's presence. "Are you looking for something in particular, or do you have a good eye for art?"

"None of that, Mr Pepper. Actually, I need some advice," Rowan admitted, pulling a piece of paper from his pocket onto which he had copied the address from his laptop. He handed it to the man, who immediately reached out and took it.

"Oh, I haven't heard of that in a long time," the man said thoughtfully, blinking a few times at the piece of paper in his hands, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"But you have heard of it," he repeated after him in a hopeful tone.

"Ah, yes," the man confirmed as he looked back at Rowan.

When Rowan didn't respond, the man took that as a cue to continue. "Once upon a time, there was an incident in the city that caused a part of it to be renamed. It was a long time ago, and I suppose there are no records of it left, but the oldest among us still remember it.”

"What happened?" Rowan asked with interest.

The man sighed deeply, as if the memories of that event were troubling him, but in the end, he spoke anyway. "This city was once ruled by powerful families who founded this city before it was even a city. But when new buildings were built here, and the city began to modernise, conflicts arose. These families did not have enough authority to stop the expansion of San Dence, so they resorted to something outside the law. They set fire to new buildings, but the fire spread and burned their land. They were not found guilty, of course, but the people of the city knew what they had done and drove them out. The streets named after them were renamed after centuries, and the people, in revenge, erased the record that they had ever been called anything else.”

"Do you know what those streets are?" Rowan asked. 

"Of course, young man. My memory still serves me well. I can mark them on the map for you if you're interested," the man offered, taking a folded map of the city from under the counter before Rowan could even reply.

"Could you also mark the exact address, please?" Rowan asked him hopefully. 

It was obvious from the man's smile that he didn't have any problem with that, and he quickly confirmed it verbally.

And suddenly Rowan knew exactly where to look.