Forced Negotiation
The encounter with the bandits left Alex shaken, but his resolve remained firm. He scanned the grimy alleyway, the damp air thick with the stench of garbage and decay. The rickety wooden door, the beacon's target, stared back at him, its peeling paint and rusty hinges a testament to neglect.
"There has to be something around here," Alex muttered, his gaze sweeping over the surroundings.
The beacon wouldn't lead him astray, of that he was certain. But where was the connection between this dark alley and the missing necklace?
He crouched down, examining the base of the door. A thick layer of dust and grime obscured any potential clues.
He ran his fingers along the uneven wooden planks, searching for any hidden compartments or inconsistencies. Nothing.
Suddenly, a flicker of movement caught his eye. A barely discernible seam ran along the base of the wall, nestled discreetly in the shadows beside the door.