Chapter 66
The room was a mixture of obviously expensive luxuries—foreign-style lamps, rare animal pelts, and the like—and cheap sofas and table sets, a combination that suited its owner, a man named Sloth.
Sloth was a man in his mid-thirties, with dark brown hair slicked back.
The jacket he wore was made of fine velvet, but his shirt and shoes were cheap. Even so, rings, earrings, and countless other ornaments jingled all over his body.
At Sloth's side stood Veronica, a female mercenary with two pistols hanging at her waist.
With very light golden hair cut evenly at her chin and a fur mantle resembling traditional clothing draped around her shoulders, she stood behind Sloth and stared expressionlessly at his visitor—Theodore.
"Um, this is yesterday's take..."
When Theodore placed a leather pouch full of coins on the desk, Sloth began counting them with his ring-covered fingers, his cigar bobbing in his mouth.
Theodore waited for Sloth to finish counting while gazing at the various objects decorating the room.
What particularly caught Theodore's eye was a censer in the corner. A sweetish scent drifted from the censer, which was decorated with foreign-style carvings.
(What is that smell...? Roses? Maybe mixed with something else~... Hmm, it's a little too strong for me~)
As he fidgeted uneasily at the sweet smell, the female mercenary Veronica shot him a sharp glare.
Thinking how scary she was, Theodore curled up on the sofa.
By then, Sloth had apparently finished counting the coins.
"Good, good. Not a bad take. Tell Dayan to keep working hard at this rate."
"Y-yes... By the way, um, when will I get my precious box back...?"
When Theodore asked timidly, Sloth thrust out his lower lip and knit his brows.
"Hey, hey, hey, hey. According to Dayan, you break dishes when you wash them, spill drinks all over the floor when you carry them, and aren't useful at all. With the work you've done, you'll barely be able to pay for the dishes at the shop you wrecked."
"B-but then I'll be in trouble... I need you to give it back... Please, give it back..."
Sloth spoke to the man in his thirties who was sniveling miserably while stroking his stubble.
"If you want it back, show me some work worth the price. Tonight's a grand Candy Party. Bring me customers who pay well. You can manage that much, can't you?"
＊ ＊ ＊
After making sure that Theodore had left and the door had closed, Sloth took a tiny box, small enough to fit in his palm, from inside his coat.
It was a black box encrusted with jewels of various sizes and decorated with goldwork. There was no keyhole, so it probably wasn't locked, but for some reason, the lid wouldn't open.
"Hey, Veronica. Do you know what this is?"
"A box."
"Give me a more clever answer. It's obviously a magic tool."
Sloth narrowed his eyes and examined the jewels set around the box. Each had a magical formula imbued in it, but the formulas were blurred and impossible to see clearly. Some sort of seal had been placed on the magic tool.
Sloth was a mage who specialized in enchantment magic. He could usually tell at a glance what kind of magical formulas had been applied to most magic tools, but the seal on this box prevented him from reading them.
On top of that, the seal was an extremely advanced formula. It was the kind of thing that could only be unlocked by channeling in the magical power of the person who had placed it.
(This sealing formula wasn't cast by a single person, was it...? Two... no, three?)
Clearly, the box had some sort of story behind it.
Sloth didn't know why Theodore, who looked every bit like an unimpressive scholar, had been carrying something like this, but his instincts whispered that it would definitely fetch a good price.
Of course, he had no intention of returning the box to Theodore. If Theodore caused too much trouble, Sloth could simply kill him and sink him in the sea.
As he thought this, Sloth held the little box up to his ear and shook it. Since he couldn't hear anything rolling around inside, it was probably empty.
──... ... ...gry.
"...Hm?"
For an instant, he thought he had heard a faint voice.
"Veronica. Did you say something just now?"
"I didn't. But I do have something to say."
"What is it?"
When Sloth knit his brows and glared at Veronica, she stared back at him expressionlessly.
"When will you fulfill our contract?"
There was a contract between Sloth and Veronica.
Veronica was searching for someone who fulfilled "a certain condition."
In return for Sloth's help in finding that person, Veronica helped with his work.
Sloth held his cigar between two fingers, exhaled, and gave Veronica a sidelong glance.
"Don't rush me. Both the constitution and attribute you mentioned are rare. We aren't going to find someone who meets both conditions so easily."
"I am in a hurry. I want you to do it soon."
"If tonight's party has anyone who looks like a match, I'll hand them over to you."
Well, it's not like we'd find someone that easily, Sloth thought as he put the box back inside his coat.
── I'm hungry.
Without noticing the young, frail voice echoing from deep inside the box.
＊ ＊ ＊
"Ah, no luck getting it back today, either..."
Theodore trudged back to Dayan's establishment, where he was staying for the time being.
Dayan's establishment was a tavern and gambling den in Southdoll's western district.
It was busiest at night, but even in the evening, there were a few customers around. When Theodore stepped behind the counter, the bearded owner, Dayan, shouted at him.
"You're late getting back!"
"S-sorryyyy!"
"Hey! Take this to those customers at that table. Now!"
The customers at the table Dayan indicated were two young women. One was a flashy redhead, and the other was a plain-looking girl with light-brown hair.
The red-haired woman lounged back on the sofa with her legs crossed, holding cards in her right hand while kneading the cheek of the girl beside her with her left. What sort of ritual was that?
When Theodore went to deliver their drinks, he overheard their conversation.
"B-Big Sis, um, my cheek..."
"What? It's not like I'm pinching it. It's fine, isn't it? I'm only kneading it."
"Why are you kneading it...?"
"Kneading your cheeks calms me down. Just shut up and let me knead them."
"Eep..."
Apparently, the two were sisters. It looked like a pitiful younger sister being dragged around by her gambling-addicted older sister.
"Here are your drinks~"
When Theodore set down the beer, the older sister silently picked up the glass and drained it in a single gulp.
"Ahh! Gambling while drinking is the best! I could never give it up."
"Um, Big Sis... I think you've been losing pretty badly..."
"The fun is turning it around after you've lost. Ah, damn it, I busted again."
Clicking her tongue, the older sister kneaded her little sister's cheek. The girl whimpered helplessly as her sister continued kneading it.
Theodore set a glass of fruit water in front of the girl and spoke to her gently.
"Here you go~. You've got it rough, too."
"Th-thank you..."
The timid-looking girl accepted the glass while fidgeting.
The next game was about to begin on the table.
Theodore wasn't very familiar with games like this, but apparently, players were dealt two cards at the start and then tried to get as close as possible to twenty-one.
There were four suits, with cards numbered from one to thirteen. Cards ten and higher counted as ten, while a one could count as either eleven or one.
(Um, getting exactly twenty-one is good, and going over twenty-one is called a bust, so you lose... right?)
The red-haired woman had been busting repeatedly. She kept getting greedy, trying to get closer to twenty-one, and drew high-numbered cards.
Theodore watched the sisters anxiously, wondering if they would be all right.
Anyone who lost big at this establishment was stripped of everything and thrown into an alley. In the worst cases, they were taken to Sloth's place and never came back.
Theodore secretly hoped he wouldn't have to see that happen to them, when the older sister suddenly raised her voice.
"All right, let's bet big here!"
The woman gathered up her remaining chips and pushed them all forward.
But the cards dealt to her were the Three of Clubs and the Ten of Cups, for a total of thirteen. It was a precarious total.
The dealer's total, meanwhile, was fourteen. In other words, the dealer was closer to twenty-one.
The strong-willed older sister naturally tried to draw another card. But just as she was about to signal for one, her little sister suddenly grabbed her hand and stopped her.
The older sister rolled her deep green eyes toward her and glared.
"Hey, why are you stopping me?"
"...Don't draw."
The girl whispered in a voice only her sister could hear.
Pretending to clear away the empty glass, Theodore edged closer and listened.
The timid look vanished from the girl's childish face, and her eyes fixed solely on the cards on the table.
"The dealer has to draw until reaching at least seventeen, so they'll draw another card now."
"Of course they will."
"The only cards of seven or lower left in the deck are the Seven of Clubs, the Four of Cups, and the Two of Coins... just those three. So the dealer has an eighty-eight percent chance of busting—going over twenty-one."
Theodore's eyes widened.
Had she memorized every card that had been played so far?
Just as the girl predicted, the dealer drew the Nine of Swords.
The dealer's total reached twenty-three, making the dealer's loss certain. The older sister cheered.
"Well done, MoniMoni! I'll buy you some candy later!"
The older sister threw back her head, exposing her white throat, and laughed uproariously before vigorously rubbing the head of her little sister—who apparently was called MoniMoni.
"Ah, what a wonderful feeling! I won at the end, and I found such an easy mark, too!"
Saying that, the woman beckoned to Theodore.
Thinking she wanted another drink, Theodore approached, but the woman grabbed him by the collar and roughly pulled him closer.
"Whoa, what? What? Did I do something?!"
"Don't move."
The woman gave him a sharp command, then sniffed at the nape of Theodore's neck, her nostrils twitching.
Then she grinned like a cat gazing at a mouse.
"...So you were the source of that smell after all. I've finally found you."
Still holding Theodore by the collar, the woman beamed at him.
Theodore gave her a vague smile in return, and the woman shouted toward the counter.
"Boss, this man spilled alcohol on my dress. I'm taking him outside to rough him up."
"What?!"
The woman roughly grabbed Theodore by the collar to silence his scream and strode outside.
Theodore looked at Dayan as though begging for help, but Dayan merely gave him a look that seemed to say, "Again...?" and did nothing to help.
Desperate, Theodore clung to the girl who appeared to be the woman's little sister.
"W-what did I do?! Hey, you there. Um, you're MoniMoni, right? Could you say something to Big Sis for me?"
"Um, I-I'm not MoniMoni, I'm..."
"Quiet! Just follow me!"
The woman's sharp rebuke made Theodore and the girl both cower.