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Chapter 22
After parting with the maids, I returned to my room, but I couldn’t bring myself to lie down and kept pacing around inside.
And for good reason—finding out that the basic common sense I had always believed a maid should naturally follow had actually been completely useless was a rather painful truth to face.
On top of that, the target had never particularly stopped my behavior before, and sometimes even asked me to give him massages.
Since he looked like someone who was naturally used to being served by others, there had been no reason for me to suspect that he wasn’t accustomed to that sort of thing.
“Even if carrying out the mission is slow, I thought there wouldn’t be any problems with the process itself.”
The thought that I hadn’t properly understood the target at all sent a chill down my spine.
No, then what exactly had I been doing all this time?
“So he isn’t exactly a germaphobe, but he generally dislikes physical contact from others if he can avoid it. He never showed it, so I had no idea… I need to keep this in mind too.”
After spending the night organizing all the new information I’d learned about the target, I called for a carriage early in the morning and left the duke’s estate.
They called it a vacation, but I wasn’t actually here to rest, so I couldn’t afford to waste even a little time.
Besides, if something happened to the target while I was gone, that would be deeply regrettable…
Let’s finish this and get back as quickly as possible!
“We’ve arrived at your destination, miss.”
Stepping out of the shabby, worn-down carriage I’d rented for a few copper coins, I briefly thanked the coachman before pulling the long hood of my black robe lower over my head.
Partly to avoid attracting attention because of my appearance like last time, and partly because someone who remembered my face from before might recognize me and avoid me first—it was a precaution in every sense.
“Back then the target was with me, so I had no choice but to use the normal route.”
Actually, there probably wasn’t anyone who knew the back alleys better than I did.
How many jobs had I completed here over the years? A shortcut free of interruptions was easy enough.
Naturally turning toward a narrow side path, I entered the martial arena building quickly without running into anyone.
Now I needed to find the people I’d seen around the special seats and near the oil drum outside the arena two weeks ago, where Lis and I had been.
“Since gambling is practically their entire lives, finding them shouldn’t be that difficult…”
I thought I’d start by taking a casual look around the arena, and by the time I’d circled the outer walls of the huge venue four times…
A sigh I’d been holding back rose all the way to the tip of my tongue.
“I’m doomed. I couldn’t find a single one…! I kept going because I thought I’d find at least one of them!”
I wanted to complete the request with as little interaction with others as possible, but considering the place and the sheer size of the crowd, checking the faces of tens of thousands of people by myself was impossible after all.
“These are people I saw around the special seats before. Do you happen to know any of them?”
So I chose to approach the ticket clerks stationed around the place while carrying a few roughly sketched portraits.
Since wandering around the arena was their job, they would naturally know plenty of regular customers, making them ideal for finding people.
“Hmm…”
The ticket clerk studied my portraits carefully before slowly nodding.
Oh? I didn’t think anyone would actually recognize these.
“Of course I know them. They’re regulars around here. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen them lately!”
“Was there anything unusual at the arena two weeks ago? Some kind of disturbance that was different from normal…”
Thankfully, it seemed I’d found a clerk with a good memory.
Thinking this was my chance, I casually brought up the past, and after rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the clerk nodded again.
“Two weeks ago…? Ah! I heard all the waste oil barrels in the back courtyard were emptied out. An employee from the food supply shop mentioned it. Apparently they disappeared completely, like they’d evaporated.”
“What happened after that?”
“It just ended there. As you know, miss, it’s difficult to call the guards over a trivial disturbance in a place like this.”
In other words, since nobody had died, there was no need to make a big issue out of it.
Of course, even when people did die here, the guards were never called.
Fighters died in this place every day, yet not once had the city guards shown up.
Naturally, nobody had ever reported it either.
“Accidents happening in a place like this are considered perfectly normal.”
Even if it was illegal, nothing changed.
Nobles came here while hiding their identities too, and there was no chance anyone in power would launch an official investigation just because someone reported corruption or criminal activity.
As a result, it was practically a place where every crime was allowed.
Extreme as it was, that was exactly why it was called the back alleys.
“Have you seen any of these people recently?”
“Well… it’s not like I know everything.”
The clerk who had been answering well until now shrugged and rolled his black eyes around, acting quite obviously as if he didn’t know.
“The quality of his answers was bound to drop eventually.”
I’d already been lucky to hear this much from a complete stranger.
But this wasn’t nearly enough.
What I wanted was to talk directly to the person involved.
For reliable information, I had no choice but to spend some money.
I pulled out a gold coin from my pocket and dropped it into the clerk’s tiny ballot box.
Clink!
“Gah! A g-gold—! Ahem, right! Come to think of it, I think one of these people voted for contestant number 17 earlier… let’s see…”
The eyes that had seemed lifeless a moment ago suddenly began moving rapidly after seeing gold.
After rummaging through the voting slips for a while, the clerk finally found what he was looking for and unfolded a neatly folded paper with a subtle smile.
“His name’s Henrison. He’s pretty famous among gamblers because of his fiery temper. Today he bet three silver coins on seat number 29 in Section B.”
The clerk showed me the name and location written on the ticket before hurriedly putting it away while glancing around.
“Which one of these portraits is him?”
“Umm… who was it again…”
The clerk’s expression hesitated again.
Trying to do business with me right in front of my face, huh? This little—!
“…I’m the desperate one here, so endure it.”
Spitting out insults with my eyes instead of my mouth, I made another sound.
Clink!
“Ahem, now I remember! Let’s see…”
Smiling warmly, the clerk picked up one of my portraits.
“Wow, you really captured the key points! This is Henrison. Coffee-colored hair, lots of freckles, and sharp eyes are his defining traits. He’s wearing an eyepatch today, so you’ll find him quickly.”
The moment I saw the portrait he picked up, my expression darkened.
Of all people, it had to be that guy.
“It’s him, right? The one who touched my cheek without permission. No way I could forget that.”
Only after spending a gold coin did I finally get useful information, and I immediately headed for Section B.
Unlike before, where I’d been searching blindly, I now had a clear identity and location, so I quickly spotted Henrison casually sitting at the edge of the arena seats.
“If it were up to me, I’d grab his hair—or at least his ear—and drag him straight outside.”
But if I did that, unrelated people would start staring, and having a conversation with him would become impossible.
So for now, it seemed best to approach kindly, convince him I wasn’t suspicious, and lure him outside.
“Hello, brother. You have a very pleasant face.”
Approaching Henrison, who was indeed wearing a black eyepatch just as the clerk said, I carefully kept my face hidden beneath the robe and spoke gently.
I’d read it once in a book called How to Become Friends with Strangers. According to it, if I followed the instructions exactly, I could break down even the strongest walls of suspicion.
The author was named Shaiby, and since it had been fairly interesting, I remembered it roughly.
“Well, I am that kind of guy.”
“However… your ancestors are glaring at you while crying. If you don’t comfort them immediately, you’ll lose money on every future match!”
I gestured toward his right side as if waving someone away, and Henrison immediately looked over with trembling eyes, clearly creeped out.
But only for a moment.
He immediately frowned and waved his arm roughly.
“Ugh, what are you babbling about when you don’t know anything? Stop bringing bad luck and get lost!”
“You bet on contestant number 17, right? Three silver coins, no less.”
“…How exactly should I comfort them?”
The distrust in Henrison’s black eyes instantly transformed into complete trust.
“This actually worked? Long live Shaiby.”
I’d only done exactly what the book said.
Who would’ve thought it would be this effective?
