Chapter 29
“Looks like the key is finding where what we want is located.”
He was here for a collection of ghost stories, and I was here to find a book on magic. It was highly likely that both could be found in a similar section.
However, judging by the sign outside, this bookstore seemed to focus more on romance novels rather than general literature.
Still, I doubt we’d find what we’re looking for in those overly plain bookstores anyway.
The ones with fancy calligraphy on their signs, painted in muted tones, looked like they only sold practical books. I tilted my head slightly and said,
“Hmm, how about we start from the corner? If what we’re looking for isn’t popular, it’s probably shelved on the outer edges.”
Perhaps my reasoning made sense, because Damian nodded. Together, we headed toward the inner wall of the bookstore. The place was quite spacious, and the shelves along the walls were thickly covered in dust.
Clearly, these were the books that didn’t sell well. The problem was—they seemed to be too niche, even compared to what we were looking for.
Is this some kind of cult section?
After scanning the shelves, I lightly tapped the back of Damian’s hand with my free one. Then, locking eyes with him, I whispered,
“There are even books like those here, so I’m sure we’ll find something if we look hard enough… But since we don’t have much time, we should split up and search.”
Damian unfolded his arms at my words. The movement was so natural and effortless that I was momentarily taken aback—it was almost as if he hadn’t wanted to cross his arms in the first place.
Then, he placed a hand gently on my shoulder and brushed it down along my arm. My skin burned where he touched, like I’d been scorched.
“Regrettably, you’re right. We’ll do as you say,” he murmured.
His hand squeezed mine softly before letting go.
“When you find something, we’ll review it together. Depending on the content, we might need to read it here before taking it with us.”
I nodded. His eyes drifted up toward the top shelf and slowly worked their way down. He pulled out a book.
“I’ll start searching here. Some of these books don’t even have titles on their spines.”
Still, the ones around here seemed far from ghost stories. The book he held read ‘The True Nature of What You Believe In’, bound in an oddly shabby cover.
But regardless—it was a good chance for me to search for the magic book on my own. I nodded and briskly made my way to another shelf.
Nothing here.
Most sections dealt with romance novels, but there were also some useless oddities: outdated guides on making lace or recipes for mushrooms that were once thought to be healthy but were proven fake.
I tried to see if there was any system to the arrangement, but there seemed to be none at all.
Then again, what kind of books would occult texts about magic be placed beside? The more I thought about it, the more lost I felt, and impatience began creeping in.
“Baroness Rose?”
A familiar voice called out. At this point, it was even starting to feel welcome. I quickly turned my head—sure enough, there he was, eyes wide behind his round spectacles.
His hair was still a messy tangle, and his arms were full of books.
“Mikhail.”
“What brings you here? If I’d known we’d meet by chance like this, I would’ve delivered it myself.”
He grinned, extending one hand for a handshake, but doing so made him struggle to hold onto the pile of books in his other arm. The neatly stacked books wobbled dangerously.
Seeing his trembling arm, I hurriedly reached out to shake his hand before they fell.
“Haha, I didn’t expect to come here either,” I said.
As soon as our handshake ended, he tried to secure the books again, but it was too late—he’d lost all control.
“Really? Then judging by where you are, you must be looking for—”
Thud!
He didn’t finish his sentence because the pile of books crashed to the floor. Mikhail’s face went pale.
He quickly crouched down to gather them. I stiffened, worried that Damian might have heard the noise and would come over to interfere.
Fortunately, the surrounding customers only gave us a quick glance before going back to browsing.
Well, Damian wasn’t the type to concern himself with such trivial accidents anyway. I knelt beside Mikhail to help pick up the fallen books.
They were all history books—volumes about the Empire and Tehit, some even titled “The Frontier of the Land of Death.”
As expected from an appraiser—he doesn’t neglect his studies of history.
There weren’t actually that many books; they only looked like a mountain because they were thick.
Once the books were back in order, Mikhail, cheeks slightly flushed, resumed speaking.
“You must be looking for a book, then.”
“Yes. I’m hoping to find something about the Tehit Empire.”
“So, you’re looking for historical texts?”
It looked like he might try to share his own books, so I quickly shook my head.
“I’m looking for things you can’t find in history books.”
I lowered my voice.
“Magical tools… or magic itself.”
It should be fine to tell Mikhail this much. I wasn’t searching for magic books out of mere curiosity—but since he’d once shown me a magical tool, I could use that as my excuse.
As expected, his eyes lit up.
“So that magical tool I showed you must have intrigued you!” he said brightly—but his smile faded soon after.
“But I’m afraid such books don’t exist here. Not just this shop—all the old bookstores on this street are the same.”
“Oh…”
It felt like a tray had fallen on my head. I hadn’t expected an easy answer, but I thought I’d at least find a clue. My face fell, and Mikhail hurried to comfort me.
“You see, Tehit artifacts are considered impure by most, except for collectors. But if you go to the frontier, you might be able to find some.”
“So, they’re not completely gone?”
“Right. Of course, most of the books rot and decay over time, but some—like the one you own—might have survived.”
My faint relief quickly sank again. The book I had was a special case; I couldn’t exactly explain that.
So even going to the frontier might be a dead end. I sighed, deep in thought.
“…That man keeps looking at the same shelf.”
“He seems to be searching for something, doesn’t he? And not romance novels—just the weird stuff.”
“He’s handsome, but his tastes are strange.”
I heard a few women whispering nearby. Ah, Damian. My face drained of color. I wasn’t sure they were talking about him, but odds were high.
He must have wandered close to my section already. If he found that I hadn’t discovered anything, he might suspect I had other motives.
I need to find the ghost story shelf—fast.
I turned around to check the wall shelves again when Mikhail’s voice stopped me.
“Oh, I know where those books are.”
I had completely forgotten he was still there. Wait—what did he just say? I looked up at him like he was my savior. Mikhail smiled and pointed toward one side of the wall.
“They’re over there.”
He wasn’t pointing to a shelf but to a section hidden in the corner. Without his help, I never would’ve found it today. It felt as if divine light shone around his head.
Maybe Mikhail really was an angel sent by the gods to help me survive this story. His name was Mikhail, after all—and he was kind and considerate to boot.
“Thank you for telling me. Were you interested in ghost stories too?” I asked.
“I was, briefly. I wanted to learn more about the Tehit Empire,” he said.
Even his reasoning was the same as mine. Amazing. I wanted to talk to him more—but now wasn’t the time.
“I see. I’d love to hear more, but I’m here with someone today. Let’s talk again next time.”
“Ah, you mean your husband? I think I saw him earlier. It wouldn’t look good for you if we’re seen together.”
He quickly stepped back a few paces, looking awkward but still polite.
“What a thoughtful man,* I mused.*
“Then please, take your time browsing. I was about to leave anyway,” he added with a sheepish smile.
“Alright. Thank you.”
We exchanged brief farewells, and I hurried to the section Mikhail had pointed out. Sure enough, the shelves there were filled with ghost stories.
Only two small sections dealt with the Land of Death, but it was a satisfying find. I memorized the shelf number and went off to look for Damian.
