By the ti they reached Hattori's Dumpling Shop, it was already quite late. The tables and chairs outside had all been put away, but Victor and Angoulê were regulars, so they were not worried about being rude. They simply pushed open the door and walked right in.
The elven dumpling maker was standing with his back to the entrance, making dumplings at the stove. When he turned and saw two masked thugs, he nearly jumped out of his skin. Luckily, the boy and girl pulled down their face coverings in ti, sparing him from shouting for help.
"Damn it! Are you trying to scare to death so you can inherit my dumpling shop?"
Angoulê chuckled wickedly at that.
Victor yawned. "Thanks for the joke, Hattori. I have absolutely no interest in inheriting your shop. Twenty cheese-and-potato dumplings and twenty pork-and-spinach. We're eating here."
After placing the order, the boy sat down without ceremony. As usual, Angoulê went to scoop out the sour cream for the dumplings, along with the white sauce Victor liked.
The elven cook's craft was solid. The wrappers were thick and hearty, lacking the soft, delicate texture of the dumplings Victor rembered from ho, but the filling was excellent, rich with the flavor of at and vegetables.
No matter what, being able to see these neatly pleated dumplings in another world felt deeply comforting.
Once the food was served, the two mbers of the Phantom Troupe tore through it like a storm, devouring everything at top speed. Just as they were about to pay, Hattori raised a hand to stop them.
"Hello, Victor Corion—the Butcher of Novigrad. There's sothing I'd like to ask your help with."
The boy tilted his head and looked at the elf. Given where the dumpling shop stood, it was no surprise that the cook had seen the slaughter. But daring to call him that title to his face took real nerve.
"If you really need my help, then you shouldn't be calling by that title. It's rude. Aren't you afraid I'll pull out my sword and give you a taste of it?" Victor said irritably.
"That's because you're not..." Hattori paused. "The Butcher of Novigrad was a doppler. I already knew creatures like that existed back when I was still in the Valley of Flowers.
And the Temple Guards' talk about so 'murder maniac'? Anyone with half a brain knows better than to trust them. They rarely tell the truth anyway.
Besides, I saw you chasing him with my own eyes. Two identical n, two identical faces, but dressed completely differently."
So Hattori was not brave so much as convinced he knew the truth, which was why he dared joke with Victor using the Butcher's na.
Victor turned one palm upward in a gesture for him to continue.
"By the grace of the goddess litele, may the dead rest in peace.
The important thing is that after that mad doppler copied your swordsmanship, he was actually able to suppress Babu Tabard—the Zerrikanian who serves the King of Beggars. So I believe you have the ability to solve my problem..."
"Hey, Hattori, get to the point already!" Angoulê cut in impatiently.
Choked off mid-speech, the dumpling maker exhaled and straightened himself. "...Before I opened this dumpling shop, I was a swordsmith."
Dumplings and swords?
The keywords hit Victor's ears, and so lost mory suddenly resurfaced. A fast courier ssage from Prophet Victor raced eight hundred miles into his mind: the elf before him was not just a swordsmith, but a master swordsmith.
"A swordsmith? Do you have any past work to show?" Although the ssage in his head was almost certainly right, Victor still asked on purpose.
Lifting his chin slightly, the elven dumpling maker, Éibhear Hattori, folded his arms across his chest and said proudly, "Co upstairs. I'll show you the masterpieces I'm proudest of."
...
Not long after, the Phantom Troupe was on its way ho.
"So we're definitely helping Hattori?"
"Why not? It's simple and straightforward. Just so dockside thugs. With the Phantom Troupe's skills, we can definitely handle it.
You saw his old work. That steel sword was beautifully forged. My Dragonslayer Sword finally has a future. Yoana refuses to make it for , so when the ti cos I'll have Hattori do it instead.
And if he dares point at my nose and yell at like Yoana did, I'll educate him properly with my fists on what it ans that the custor is always right."
Victor was in a wonderful mood. A master swordsmith had practically fallen from the sky into his lap. He needed to get this settled as quickly as possible. After that, he would never have to worry again about who to ask to forge weapons.
Ti passed quickly. The bloody slaughter was already three days behind them, and Glory Lane had grown lively again instead of hanging under that dead, oppressive atmosphere.
Still, many of the street vendors now had small shields or side swords at their stalls. Business at Fergus's smithy had improved noticeably over the last few days, mostly from people coming to buy weapons for self-defense.
Angoulê stretched lazily. "All right, I was just thinking that you only have a few days left to move around in Novigrad. Is spending ti on him really worth it?"
"Definitely. Hattori is a master swordsmith. The mont I stepped onto the second floor, I received a revelation and saw a glimpse of the future. We're going to get along splendidly. Sha he already has his own shop. Otherwise I'd gladly have taken him on as our third employee."
"If you're sure, then fine. We'll wait for him to set a ti and go with him to negotiate. Besides that, is there anything else you want to do?"
A helpful local was saying, "...Passiflora is the most famous brothel in Novigrad. As the saying goes, if you've never been to Passiflora, you don't know your body's in poor shape. But there's also Crippled Kate's, Rosemary and Thy... and of course the streetwalkers."
A traveler asked, "And the priests don't have a problem with it? Moral corruption happening right under the Eternal Fire's nose—doesn't that make them angry?"
The helpful local laughed. "On the surface, sure, they're furious. But behind the scenes... they'll spend a few coins too. Not to rescue so wayward youth, mind you."
Victor blinked.
Angoulê blinked too.
Neither of them had expected to overhear such "important intelligence" from random passersby.
Angoulê's step turned light and brisk. "If you don't have any other plans, you should visit Passiflora tomorrow. Since you're here already, it'd be a sha to co to Novigrad and not go sightseeing there."
"Mm... yes, I suppose I should." Victor nodded in agreent. "Otherwise if soone asks what Passiflora was like after I say I've been to Novigrad, and I can't answer how luxurious it is, that'd be embarrassing. It'd make it sound like there's sothing wrong with ."
Angoulê suddenly said with feeling, "Co to think of it, it's really unfair. Why is Passiflora only staffed by won, there to entertain n at a brothel?"
"The market just hasn't been developed yet. Sooner or later there'll be entertainnt houses staffed by n too, so wealthy girls with certain needs can co and enjoy themselves as well... no, experience n of different styles."
Victor was only speaking casually, but the girl clearly took him seriously.
"That's a brilliant idea! Vic, you're a fucking genius. I never told you before, but I've always thought that in my heart.
It's decided. When I open a brothel in Toussaint, I'm going to open one for n, so all the girls in Beauclair can live fulfilled and happy lives."
Beauclair was the capital of the duchy of Toussaint, currently ruled by Duchess Anna Henrietta. Opening a brothel staffed by n in her domain?
Victor did not think much of that plan, unless Dandelion got involved. After all, the depth of his friendship with Duchess Anna was beyond imagining.
"Oh, right, one more thing," the boy said, smiling at the thought. "You know my herb satchel can expand as my ntal strength grows."
Angoulê was still busy imagining her groundbreaking establishnt. "Mm, so?"
"A few days ago, after everything with the doppler, my ntal strength improved dramatically. Do you know how much the satchel can hold now?"
Seeing how eager Vic looked, Angoulê knew she had no choice but to play along. "How much?"
"It can now carry a total space asuring twelve feet in length, width, and height—about the size of an entire room. Which ans I can pack all kinds of things into the bag to protect my teammates and smash my enemies."
The girl pictured it briefly in her head, and imdiately grew excited too. After the battle at Lindenvale and with the 'beauty,' she had developed quite a liking for the thrill of crushing monsters with wildly uneven equipnt. A whole room's worth of bombs and traps carried around in an herb satchel made for a true walking arsenal.
...
Laughing and chatting, they returned to the smithy. The mont he stepped inside, Victor sharply sensed sothing was wrong.
Yoana and Fergus had been talking just before he ca in, but the instant they saw him, both of them abruptly stopped and pretended nothing was happening.
Because they were not actually trying to be funny, the whole thing looked even more ridiculous. The boy could not help recalling a line:
There's a mole—call off the deal.
It fit the two amateur schers perfectly.
The girl clearly noticed sothing as well, but she did not care. Any plot brewing here would only be aid at the boss. After handing the takeout dumplings to the blacksmith and the dwarf, she headed out back to heat water for a bath.
Although Victor had handled the most unpleasant part of the day himself, the sight of Luffy emptying himself so completely had been too shocking. Thanks to pure psychological aftertaste, Angoulê felt like if she did not bathe tonight, she would not dare get into bed.
Victor was in no hurry to return to the alchemy workshop either. He simply sat down in the reclining chair in the smithy to enjoy the cool air, wondering what exactly these two sneaky employees wanted to say to him.
"Ahem, ahem."
The dwarf finally ca over after finishing his food.
Using a cough as an opening line was stale and awkward, but to a boy who had spent his ti in Novigrad dealing mostly with sly foxes and seasoned operators, it actually ca off as rather endearing.
Under the boss's gaze, which seed to see right through him, Fergus spoke awkwardly. "Well, boss... it's like this. I know Luf running away was really over the line, but he's still young and doesn't know any better.
So I was thinking maybe... maybe we could try looking for him. We all got along pretty well while he was here..."
So that was it.
Yoana wanted to bring her countryman back, but because of the Dragonslayer Sword business, she had just lost her temper at him earlier and could not bring herself to speak up now. So she had shoved the dwarf forward to act as her spokesman.
Once Victor understood what this was about, he grinned and patted Fergus on the shoulder. "Of course. No problem. Him suddenly disappearing worries too. Novigrad isn't the kind of place where just anyone can stand on their own.
Search for him however you like. If you need money for anything, have Angoulê reimburse it. I understand completely."
After saying that, he rose from the recliner and gave a slight bow in Yoana's direction. Yoana nodded back to him in return.
This feeling of both sides being polite and treating one another with proper respect was really nice, Victor thought. If it had been Angoulê, that old hand would have known perfectly well that he did not actually mind this sort of thing at all.
...
Late that night, in the won's bedroom on the third floor of the smithy—
"Hahaha, you really don't need to be nervous or embarrassed! You should've co to with this kind of trouble sooner.
Let tell you, Bell Town, where Victor cos from, has a lot of ridiculous customs, but there's one thing about him I really admire: as long as there's no actual harm done and it doesn't touch on a matter of principle, his tolerance for offenses from won is practically limitless.
And besides, with the Dragonslayer Sword, he was the one in the wrong to begin with. What the hell would that bizarre thing even be good for? It would obviously just end up as decoration again.
Just like this anti-flea sword. Honestly, I'm starting to regret making it. I should've traded for his Protheus instead. At least that one's useful."
Yoana could not help laughing out loud at how funny Angoulê made it sound.
Just then, Catherine, perched on the stand by the window, gave a soft hooting warning. The girl paused, stepped closer to the window, and looked outside.
Only then did she realize it was Victor. He was leaving the smithy and heading east.
By all rights, if he were Batman, he ought to have launched his nightti operation from the wine cellar in the basent. If this was not Batman going out for a night run, then what exactly was he doing leaving so late?
As she puzzled over it, Angoulê noticed Victor's right hand.
He was carrying a straw hat.
//Check out my P@tre0n for 30 extra chapters //[email protected]/Razeil0810
User Comments
0 comments from readers