Chapter 19
I made sure to keep the 'Legend 25 Years' I’d obtained secure. Time to use it to bait out an illegal dealer.
They claimed he was elusive, but what kind of fool rushes out at the mere hint of alcohol? Especially this obscure drink only connoisseurs seek...
‘Wait, wasn’t there an NPC in who loved this stuff?’
I vaguely recalled gifting it to boost favorability, but couldn’t remember if it was once or twice.
‘Who was it again…?’
Just then, a sturdy maid approached, carrying the worn robe I’d requested and an unfamiliar box.
“Miss, I brought the discreet clothes as ordered… but you aren’t planning anything risky, are you?”
“What’s in your hand?”
I sidestepped her question.
“Don’t tell me Dietrich sent another gift?”
“No. This is from Deputy Tower Lord Marcel.”
“The Deputy Tower Lord? We’re hardly close.”
Curious, I tore open the packaging and froze.
“……A mana recovery potion?”
And not just any potion—a top-grade elixir in a specialized container.
Even Calipe, a direct Offensa descendant, couldn’t freely use such premium potions. They were exorbitantly priced and produced in minuscule quantities. In fact, I remembered ‘Calipe’ repeatedly requesting these for mana recovery, only to be denied every time.
“Why send this?”
“I wondered the same. He usually sends flowers.”
“Flowers? Why flowers?”
The maid’s eyes widened at my confusion.
“Miss… have you forgotten today’s occasion?”
“Should I know?”
“Goodness, Miss!”
At my blank stare, the maid looked oddly pained.
“It’s… that day. You know…”
Her trailing words left me flustered—this was heavy lore not from the game.
‘This feels wrong.’
Though I’d seamlessly absorbed Calipe’s memories till now, this triggered resistance—like learning something I’d rather not know. Yet once recalled, it settled into my mind without dissonance, even the urge to flee feeling authentically mine.
“Ah—I forgot. Been busy lately.”
“Too exhausted to remember! I should’ve noticed… Let me massage your shoulders! Or summon the others for a full treatment!”
Her assertive tone confirmed she’d fully embraced her role as head maid. I patted her shoulder approvingly.
“Don’t fuss. Just know I’ll return late tonight.”
“Late? I’ll arrange an escort—”
“No. They’ll clutter the place.”
A noblewoman alone at night drew scorn, but Calipe famously glared back until critics wilted. The maid didn’t press further.
“Don’t mention today’s occasion to Noah.”
“Of course, Miss.”
After departing, I dismissed the marquis’ carriage midway and hired a common one. Finally:
“Here we are.”
The shabby tavern housing my target stood buzzing near the market. Workers flooded the streets as vendors barked:
“Fire sale! Last chance!”
“Free extras! First come, first served!”
“Owner’s lost his marbles!”
The wilder the pitch, the thicker the crowd. Inspiration struck.
“Hey, you.”
“Me?”
I beckoned loitering boys and flipped them a silver coin.
“Care for an errand?”
Calipe entered the tavern alone.
Rainen, her shadow, followed and took a nearby table as a regular patron.
“What’ll ya have?”
“Beer. Whatever’s cheap.”
The pre-paid owner gave a curt nod and vanished. Rainen’s face stayed visible, yet his cognitive interference tool rendered him as forgettable as roadside weeds.
Soon:
“To think such a bold soul’s a beauty! Charmed.”
The dealer materialized before Calipe. She feigned aristocratic hauteur, arms crossed—but flickered surprise.
‘Do they know each other?’
Before Rainen could ponder, negotiations began:
“Ahem. Heard you modify magic tools? For taming… exotic pets?”
“Pets? Rabbits and pups need no magic.”
“Enough games.”
Thud.
Calipe slammed down Legend 25 Years.
“My sincerity.”
“…Well now. Unexpectedly savvy, milady…”
The dealer fake-hesitated, gulping audibly, before caving and grabbing the bottle—then made his move.
“What’s this?”
“Can’t trust lightweights.”
He filled her glass to the brim, smirking.
“Outdrink me, delicate flower, and it’s yours.”
“A drinking duel?”
“If I drop first, you win.”
A bluff.
Rainen saw through it instantly. Calipe’s raised brow showed suspicion too—yet pride overruled sense.
Gulp! Gulp!
She chugged fiercely. Typical Calipe Offensa—pride incarnate.
Thud!
“Your turn.”
“Hah! Feistier than ya look! Another!”
They raced to empty glasses. Rainen frowned. Had she truly come for some exotic pet? This recklessness exceeded her limits.
‘Illegal rings don’t fear solo nobles.’
The dealer’s true colors would surface soon.
After prolonged guzzling, the drunk dealer slurred:
“Alright, alright! Sold! Just this once!”
He produced shackle-like cuffs.
“Charge these, say the word, and even S-class magibeasts obey. Cling like magnets—easy to fill.”
“How’s this differ from Magic Tower gear?” Calipe’s loosened tongue asked.
“Same function. I stripped the safety locks—more power!”
“Dangerous.”
“User’s problem! Can’t make gems by playing safe.”
“Strong principles, eh?” She chuckled.
“Good gear isn’t just specs. With that attitude, you’ll never be a master artisan.”
“What’d you know?!” he snapped. “I sell to connoisseurs! Even a noble bought loads for a banquet—”
“Banquet?”
He paled and clammed up.
“Clueless fool…”
“What?!”
“I’ve seen your type. Bye.” She waved, staggering up—only to collapse back under his grip.
“Leaving so soon?” He pressed her shoulder, leering.
“Sleepy yet?”
“Wha…?” Her eyelids drooped.
“Think I didn’t know you’re Offensa’s problem child?” he sneered.
“Drugging me…?”
“Sweet dreams—you’ll forget everything. Though memories might get scrambled… Not that anyone cares.”
Rainen stood, ready to intervene—
“You’ve always been trash.”
Calipe’s crisp voice cut through. Smack! Her palm cracked his skull’s pressure point.
Thud!
“Gah!” He faceplanted.
“How?! The drug—!”
