Brothel Manager : Unexpected Encounter with A Hidden Family Heirloom

The midday sun beat down relentlessly upon the sprawling encampment of the Farus family, casting long shadows that stretched across the sandy ground. Amidst the hustle and bustle of soldiers and tents, a lone figure moved purposefully towards the entrance, his steps measured and confident.

As Das approached the entrance, which is guarded by two lines of fighters from one end to the other,, he is met with the stern gaze of an administrator, flanked by a formidable contingent of two hundred fighters. With large amounts of paperwork, the administrator sat before a heavy table.

"Halt!" the administrator's voice rang out, cutting through the clamor of the camp. "State your details here and also show me the contents of that wooden box." The administrator spoke while stamping some papers. As Das stood silent, the administrator lifted his head and stared at Das.

Das met the administrator's gaze with a steady resolve, his crimson eyes betraying none of the uncertainty that churned within him. "My name is Das," he replied calmly, his voice steady despite the tension that hung between them. "I came to join the ranks of the Farus family army. As for my preferred weapon, I am proficient in hand-to-hand combat and skilled with all types of weapons.

As for the box, it contains my sword."

The administrator's brow furrowed as he regarded Das with suspicion, his piercing gaze searching for any hint of deception. "And who recruited you?" he demanded, his tone sharp with skepticism.

Das held the administrator's gaze unwaveringly. At first, he did not understand the question of the old man. After long thought, he understood the old administrator's meaning. "Princess Amara," he replied simply, his words hanging in the air like a challenge.

The administrator's expression hardened, his features set in a mask of disbelief. Without a word, he turned to consult a thick ledger, flipping through the pages with a sense of urgency. But as his search yielded no results, his suspicion turned to frustration.

"You're not on the list," the administrator stated coldly, his tone accusatory. "Are you trying to deceive us, spy?"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the surrounding fighters, their eyes narrowing with suspicion as they closed in around Das, their hostility palpable in the stifling heat.

Undeterred, Das remained calm, his senses heightened as he stared at the mob of fighters who began encircling him. And when a towering figure lunged forward, intent on seizing him, Das reacted with lightning speed, his movements fluid and precise.

With a swift kick to the knee of that big guy, and made him kneel before him. Das sent him crashing to the ground with one single punch. A stunned silence fell over the crowd as they watched in awe. And as the fallen fighter lay unconscious at his feet, Das stood tall, his gaze unwavering as he met the eyes of those who surrounded him.

Before the mob could take a step forward, Das raised his finger in a threatening gesture, his crimson eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. Soon, more and more people gathered, brandishing long swords and glaring at Das with hostility.

"Stop!" Das commanded, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Before you take another step, I suggest you contact Amara. Ask her if she recruited a person named Mohan Das. Do it now, before you regret your actions."

But the standoff continued, with each side locked in a silent battle of wills. And then, in the next instant, Das moved with lightning speed, his fists a blur as he beat down another five strong individuals who dared to challenge him.

The administrator, realizing the situation is spiraling out of control, hurriedly stepped forward, his voice raised in a loud cry. "Enough!" he bellowed, his words echoing across the camp. "Let me confirm this with Princess Amara. Shorty, Go and ask the princess about this person. Come quickly!" The old man instructed while staring at Das.

As one of his assistants dashed off to find Amara, the mob stood in tense anticipation, their eyes fixed on Das with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. But instead of paying them any heed, Kent calmly pulled up a nearby administrator chair and seated himself, his expression one of nonchalant indifference.

Many in the crowd exchanged confused glances, their attention momentarily diverted by the sight of a wooden guitar box resting atop the nearby table.

Just then, the short assistant returned, his cheeks adorned with a fiery red slap mark. Behind him, a lady strode forward with purpose, her gaze fixed solely on Das as she approached.

Ignoring the chaos around her, she reached Das's side and held his hand with both palms, her touch gentle yet filled with an unmistakable sense of protection.

"Which bastard dared to lay a finger on Das?" she demanded, her voice laced with fury. The mob, intimidated by her presence, immediately dispersed, their anger diffused by her commanding presence.

The administrator, now kneeling before Das, began to apologize profusely for the misunderstanding, his words tumbling out in a rush as he sought to make amends for his mistake.

"You old…" Leela, the sister of Amara, took a step forward to kick the old man. But Das hurriedly stopped her by dragging her hand.

"Leave it, they didn't do me any harm. By the way, where is your sister?" Das asked while standing up from the chair.

"She is busy with war commanders. I came here running when the short fellow mentioned your name in the meeting. Let's go, my sister also wants to see you." Leela spoke excitedly as she walked along the central path while holding Das hand.

The old administrator didn't even dare to stop Das from checking the wooden guitar box hanging from Das's shoulder.

Das, do you know how many days I'm waiting for you here? My sister completely set me aside from the war activities. Even now, they were dividing the army troops and nominating names for commanders. But completely ignored my name for the war." Leela spoke in a complaining tone while holding on to his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Das's gaze locked onto the army troops as he began scanning the fighters and residence positions.

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