Chapter 40
“Keh keh keh, nothing beats a rich sucker. Don’t you think so too, Patrick?”
In a construction company located in the heart of the capital, the president chuckled while counting the gold coins on the table.
“Of course. Especially those retired servants who worked in noble households for years and then start their own business—those are the best clients.”
The clerk, busily jotting notes into a ledger, chimed in.
“You know your stuff. That chef—Hans, was it? He’s perfect to be our VIP. Rich, and knows nothing but cooking.”
“At first, I was intimidated by his appearance, but there was no need at all. Turns out he’s a total airhead, completely unlike how he looks.”
“Thanks to this sucker, we won’t have to worry about a thing for months.”
On the table was a pile of gold coins so large it was hard to count. It was the deposit Hans had paid in full, in cash.
Just as the president was sweeping the coins into a pouch—
BANG BANG BANG!
A knock like a clap of thunder echoed through the room.
“What the hell? Doesn’t sound like a customer. Surely not the city guard?”
“No way. That chef seemed too clueless to notice anything. Probably some peddler or insurance salesman.”
“Yeah, let’s just pretend we’re not here.”
When they didn’t open the door, the uninvited guest seemed to give up and leave. The office stayed quiet for a while, and the two began to relax.
Then—
CRASH!
The door was torn off its hinges and slammed to the floor. Standing in the gaping entrance…
Dozens of people, each looking anything but ordinary—a skeletal-looking man, a woman with pink hair covered in tattoos, and more.
The one who had broken the door seemed to be the man at the front—red-haired, wearing an eyepatch.
“You bastards…”
The redhead strode into the office.
“You dare scam our young lady, huh?”
The president and the clerk froze.
They knew plenty of rough types themselves, but one glance told them—
This group was in a whole other league. These were not the kind of people back-alley thugs could deal with.
“‘Young lady’? We… we’ve never met such a person! You’re mistaken—”
Before the clerk could finish, the red-haired man grabbed his hair and slammed his head down onto the desk. BANG! The impact was so loud the clerk went limp, as if knocked out cold.
“Heeek!”
“No need for excuses. Anyone who so much as lays a finger on our young lady gets ground to paste.”
Ace grinned broadly.
“That’s our crew’s fourth rule!”
That day, the Irregulars completely tore the construction office apart.
They recovered every last coin Hans had paid, plus extra for “emotional damages” and “compensation for losses.”
Of course, they also beat the president and the clerk black and blue.
“If you dare show your faces in this line of work again… Don’t even think about running a business in hiding.”
Before leaving the wrecked office, Ace added one last warning:
“Our people go everywhere, see everything, and hear everything.”
…Alright, I admit, that’s kind of cool.
Cecile thought so as she listened to Ace’s report.
She glanced at him. Ace’s eyes were shining brightly with expectation.
“I did good, didn’t I, young lady? Praise me!”
…If only he didn’t act like this, he’d be even cooler.
Cecile stifled a laugh and put on a composed face.
“Yes, yes. You did well, Ace. All of you did.”
She reached out to pat Ace’s head, and went around praising each of the Irregulars in turn.
Aside from a few minor incidents, preparations for the shop were going smoothly.
One afternoon, after the worst of the summer heat had passed, Cecile went out—appearing as an adult woman with long brown hair and red eyes.
The place she was now visiting looked like some sort of office.
Luxurious desks and sofas filled the room, with bright sunlight streaming in from large windows.
Scrolls of parchment flew busily through the air, and the air was scented with parchment, ink, and a sweet note of wine.
Sitting opposite her was a handsome man.
With rare violet hair, he smiled politely at her, though his blue eyes gleamed sharply behind his glasses.
“It’s been a long time since I’ve welcomed such a beautiful guest. My name is Lucien, my lady.”
He extended his hand, as if asking to kiss hers. Cecile offered it without hesitation, and he brushed his lips over her knuckles.
“Please, call me Carmen.”
“Very well, Carmen.”
Lucien reached for his pipe but, glancing at her, set it down again.
“Now, why don’t you tell me about your request? The Information Guild ‘Parchment Circle’ is most eager to see how we can be of service to you, my lady.”
The fees of the Information Guild were notoriously steep—especially for forbidden knowledge, like what Cecile was here to request.
I’d rather not meet Lucien at all, given the bad blood we had before I returned… but there’s nowhere else in the Empire capable of handling this kind of information.
She studied him carefully.
The circumstances are different now. I’m not some wicked sorceress—I’m just a client.
With that in mind, she spoke.
“Lucien, I need information on an ancient black magic artifact.”
Cecile had bought and read countless books in search of a way to remove Nibelung from her body, but had found nothing.
Her last-resort method was this—to pay a huge sum to a professional information guild.
At the words “black magic artifact,” Lucien’s brow arched with interest.
“A black magic artifact… As you must know, Carmen, our Parchment Circle is a legally operating guild. We’re inspected annually by the Guild Council, and we pay our taxes faithfully.”
“…”
“And all information regarding black magic is strictly forbidden under the Temple’s control. You know what that means?”
Cecile realized he was smiling with his lips, but not with his eyes. His gaze was sharp, as if he saw right through her.
But she didn’t flinch. Meeting his eyes, she gave him a confident smile.
“It means… you’re going to enjoy this job very much, Lucien. Am I wrong?”
For a moment, a flicker of being caught off guard crossed his face.
It was gone in an instant, replaced by a hearty laugh.
“You know quite a lot about me for someone I’ve just met, my lady!”
After laughing, he picked up his pipe again and lit it with a flint.
“Well then, no point in pretending otherwise. Carmen, you see… I believe nothing in life is as important as pleasure. If you waste your one life without enjoying it, what could be more tragic?”
He took a drag and exhaled smoke. The air’s sweet mix of parchment, ink, and wine was now tinged with a smoky edge.
“Those who postpone today’s happiness for the sake of tomorrow are fools to be pitied. How do they know that tomorrow will ever come?”
“…”
“Tobacco, wine, theater, romance… The world offers many pleasures, and I love them all. But the greatest pleasure of all—”
With the hand not holding his pipe, he tapped his temple.
“—is knowledge. The thrill of solving a riddle and uncovering a new truth is beyond compare.”
