SSS-Rank Talent: Super Upgrade System-Chapter 114: Honour Among Thieves!

The Palm Wine was as delicious as Olenna had promised, sweet and fragrant with a deceptively smooth finish.

Seeing their captain take a sip, Ayra and Lia felt slightly more convinced that it was safe to drink.

Lia, persuaded by Olenna’s gentle insistence, took a small, polite sip.

Ayra, on the other hand, downed her entire cup in one enthusiastic gulp, then held it out for a refill with a hearty laugh.

"Wow, that’s good stuff! You weren’t kidding, Olenna!" Ayra declared, her cheeks already slightly flushed.

Daniel watched, maintaining a calm expression as he finished his own cup.

He could feel the soporific agent in the wine beginning to work, a faint, pleasant numbness spreading through his limbs.

However, his default SSS-Rank [Poison Immunity] and his immense Vitality attribute were already fighting back, neutralizing the drug’s effects almost as quickly as it entered his system.

To an outside observer, though, he would appear to be succumbing just like anyone else.

The meal continued, a lavish spread of roasted meats, exotic vegetables, and sweet breads.

Daniel ate heartily, confirming with his senses that the food itself was clean.

The wine was the only vector for the trap. After about fifteen minutes, the drug hit its peak effect.

Ayra, who had been in the middle of a boisterous story about punching a Silverback Blue Ape, suddenly trailed off.

"And then... and then the big blue baboon... he looked at me and... and..."

Her eyes went glassy, her head lolled forward, and she slumped sideways onto a pile of plush cushions, snoring softly.

"Ayra?" Lia asked, her own voice suddenly slurred.

She tried to stand, her hand going to her staff, but her legs buckled beneath her.

"Something’s... not... right..." Her grey eyes fluttered, then closed as she collapsed gracefully onto her blanket, completely unconscious.

Daniel decided it was his cue.

With a theatrical sigh, he let his eyes roll back, slumped forward onto the low table with a soft thud, and went completely still, feigning a deep, drugged sleep.

He kept his breathing slow and even, his senses extended, listening.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of the crackling fire and the gentle flow of the river.

Then, Olenna’s smooth, melodic voice cut through the silence, but her tone had changed.

It was no longer warm and inviting. It was cold, sharp, and business-like.

"They’re out. The wine worked perfectly. Check their pulses, make sure they’re fully under."

The three attendants, their deferential smiles gone, replaced by hard, calculating expressions, quickly moved to check on the unconscious trio.

One of them prodded Daniel’s shoulder roughly. "He’s out cold, Boss. All three of them. The big redhead even drank a second cup. She’ll be sleeping for at least twelve hours."

"Excellent," Olenna said, standing up and brushing a non-existent speck of dust from her elegant suit.

"You know the drill. Strip them. Take every card, every coin, every piece of gear that isn’t physically bolted to their skin. Be quick and be thorough. We don’t have all night."

Daniel listened, his feigned unconsciousness a perfect cover. So, they were just robbers.

A surprisingly well-organized and sophisticated crew, but robbers nonetheless.

His mind cataloged their movements as they began to search their victims.

The gang’s initial excitement quickly turned to frustration. They patted down Ayra’s pockets, finding only a half-eaten protein bar and a small, smooth rock she had apparently kept as a souvenir.

They searched Daniel’s torn fatigues and found... nothing. Not a single coin, not a single card.

"Boss, these two are clean!" one of the men grumbled, turning to Daniel. "And this one... he’s got nothing either! Where’s all the loot?

The redhead was bragging about all the cards they had!"

Olenna frowned, her sharp eyes scanning Daniel’s simple attire. "The quiet ones are always the most troublesome. He must have a storage ring. Check his fingers, his neck, anywhere he might hide it."

They searched him again, but Daniel’s [Elementary Storage Ring] was S-grade, rendering itself almost completely invisible once worn. They found nothing.

"Nothing, Boss! It’s like they’re paupers!"

Just then, the attendant searching Lia gasped.

"Boss! Look at this!" He held up Lia’s A-Grade Staff of the World Ash, its emerald light still pulsing faintly even as its owner slept.

The attendant’s eyes were wide with greed.

"This... this has to be at least a B-Grade weapon! Maybe even A-Grade! Look at the energy! We’ll be rich!"

The other gang members crowded around, their eyes gleaming.

"Grab it! That alone is worth more than all the cards we could hope for!" one of them urged.

Olenna stepped forward, her expression hardening. "Put it down," she commanded, her voice sharp.

The attendant looked at her, confused. "But Boss... it’s an A-grade weapon! We could retire on this!"

"I said, put it down," Olenna repeated, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "What is our first rule?"

The attendant flinched. "Rule one... we only take money and cards. We don’t cripple our marks."

"Exactly," Olenna said, her cold gaze sweeping over her crew.

"We take their liquid assets, their currency, their cards for passage. We do not take their primary weapons or their core defensive gear.

That leaves them defenseless. That gets them killed by the first beast they meet. That is murder. And we," she stated with absolute finality, "are thieves, not murderers.

It is bad for business and bad for the soul. Am I clear?"

Her crew nodded sullenly, their greed warring with their fear of their leader.

Just then, another of the men, who had been staring lecherously at the unconscious forms of Lia and Ayra, sidled up to Olenna.

"Boss," he whispered, a slimy grin on his face.

"Since we’re not getting much loot... maybe we could have a little... fun? The redhead and the pretty healer... they wouldn’t even know..."

Olenna didn’t even raise her voice. She simply turned, and with a movement too fast for the eye to follow, her hand shot out, grabbing the man by the throat.

"Boom!"

A small, contained shockwave of her own power pulsed from her hand, making the man choke and his eyes bulge.

"And what," she hissed, her voice a sliver of ice, "is our second rule, Hector?"

"N-no... no lust..." Hector wheezed, his face turning purple.

"We take money, not lives, and not dignity," Olenna finished for him, her eyes blazing with a cold fury that was more terrifying than Ayra’s berserker rage.

"The moment we cross that line, we become no better than the monsters in this Verge.

Anyone who breaks that rule will have to deal with me, and I promise, I’d tear you piece by painful piece. Do you understand?"

She dropped him, and he collapsed to the ground, gasping and clutching his throat.

The other men backed away, their lewd thoughts instantly extinguished.

Daniel, still "unconscious," felt a flicker of surprise, and even a grudging respect.

This Olenna Houten, this sophisticated bandit leader, had a code. A strange, twisted, but undeniable code of ethics. She wasn’t just a thug; she was a professional with principles.

Olenna let out a frustrated sigh, looking at the meager pile of loot they had collected, a few stray beast cores and some low-grade herbs.

"This is barely enough to cover the cost of the wine," she muttered, clearly disappointed.

She looked at her photo of her sister again and vowed to find her.

"Fine. It’s a bust. Tie them up, put them on the small boat, and push them downriver. They’ll wake up somewhere downstream, confused and with a headache, none the wiser.

Let’s find our next target. The night is still young."

This content is taken from (f)reewe(b)novel.𝗰𝗼𝐦