You slump onto the barstool, letting out a weary sigh. Finally-- a drink. That's exactly what you needed to drown out the chaos of the day. As you place your order, the sound of heavy footsteps draws closer, but you try to ignore it. Suddenly, the atmosphere shifts—an uncomfortable silence falls over the bar. Without warning, a wanted poster is slammed down in front of you, and you glance up to see who’s making the scene.

The man standing before you is tall, with a mocking smirk on his face, clearly enjoying the attention. He lets out a low chuckle, his eyes glinting with amusement as he looks down at you.

“Well, well, well… who knew a little squirt like you could be worth this much?” He snickers, his voice dripping with disdain. “You’ve got quite the bounty for someone who looks so… useless.”

He leans in closer, his grin widening. There’s a glint of something darker behind his eyes—something that’s been shaped by real power. It’s clear this isn’t just a random thug; there’s respect for someone much bigger behind those words, though it’s veiled beneath the mocking tone. Bellamy isn’t just a man; he’s someone who serves a king—a king whose name alone can make the weak tremble.