Chapter 10: A Peaceful Night

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Chapter 10: A Peaceful Night

Charlie waited for quite a while, but the barber’s face still did not change back. He examined him carefully but found no trace of a human-skin mask.

His heart sank—

If the barber was still the barber, Charlie might be able to hand him over to the knight order. When he had struck earlier, he had deliberately used his outer robe to cover the barber’s eyes. Ben’s skull had never been exposed, so the secrets of Pinecone Tower and resurrection would remain safe.

In this holy city of magic, everyone revered magic, and tower-like buildings resembling mage towers were hardly uncommon. Many people even deliberately chose to live in such buildings so they could be surrounded by an atmosphere of magic. So, in the eyes of outsiders—even the residents of Gray Hat Street—Pinecone Tower was merely a dilapidated tower that had been abandoned for years. It was hardly suspicious enough to attract much attention.

But now, how was he supposed to prove that he was himself?

Could the knight order be trusted?

The situation had suddenly become even more troublesome.

Charlie frowned slightly and quickly searched the barber from head to toe. Unfortunately, the man was carrying nothing that could prove his identity. He had only a few weapons and some small bottles of medicine of unknown purpose, none of them bearing any obvious markings.

After thinking for a moment, Charlie suddenly asked Ben curiously, “If your master were in this situation, how would she handle it?”

Ben thought about it. He had assumed he wouldn’t be able to remember, but to his surprise, the answer suddenly came to him. He immediately shouted excitedly, “I know! I know! Put him in the cauldron and boil him!”

“…Great idea, but unfortunately, I can’t do that right now. Anything else?”

“Then… throw him in the basement and keep him there?”

Charlie froze. “There’s a basement here?”

“There is.” Ben shifted his skull toward the fireplace. “Stick your hand inside. There’s a little skull on the wall inside the fireplace. Turn it, and it opens.”

Charlie did as instructed and, sure enough, felt a tiny skull about the size of his palm. When he turned it, the stone bricks beside the fireplace opened, revealing a passage leading downward.

The basement was completely empty. Though dark, it wasn’t damp, and the air circulated well. After carefully inspecting it for a while and confirming that it was suitable for hiding someone, Charlie carried the barber down.

Finally, as he looked at the unconscious barber, Charlie seemed to think of something. He then simply poured the bottle of medicine the barber had given him earlier straight into the barber’s mouth.

“Isn’t that really poison?”

“He can pray that it isn’t.”

Next, Charlie found some rope and securely tied up the barber, gagged him, and blindfolded him with black cloth.

The next step was cleaning up the scene.

“What are you doing?” Ben asked in confusion.

“Anyone who kills people regularly knows that bloodstains have to be cleaned up thoroughly.” After cleaning everything, Charlie casually splashed some mead around to cover the smell of blood, making it look as though he had simply tripped and knocked over a bottle of mead during the fight. Finally, he turned and asked, “Can magic detect bloodstains?”

Ben was stumped. After staring blankly for a moment, he watched Charlie’s movements and sighed in admiration. “You’re really good at this.”

You were pretty skilled when you smashed that guy over the head, too. Fast and vicious.

Charlie tossed the bloodstained cloth into the fireplace and watched the flames devour it, followed by the broken chair.

Finally, he poured himself another half glass of wine and sat down on another chair in the kitchen, his eyes slightly lowered and his expression unreadable. If there had been anyone else there, they would have noticed that his hands were still trembling slightly.

His heart was far from calm.

Everything that had happened today reminded him once again that this was Totolando, not his distant homeland. He faced the risk of being killed at any moment, and he might even have to kill someone himself, whether willingly or under duress.

Most importantly, although his heart was far from calm, he seemed… not to be as averse to all of this as he should have been.

The skull darted around beside him, hopping and bouncing for quite some time before Charlie finally picked him up. Taking out a clean handkerchief, he wiped the dust from the skull.

“What are you thinking about now?” Ben asked curiously.

“I’m wondering who picked a fight with the barber.”

“Oh.”

“Are there any other dangerous people lurking on this street?”

“Huh?”

Ben was a little dizzy with confusion. “How many people are there, anyway?”

Charlie placed the skull properly on his lap and rested his elbow on the armrest, propping up the side of his face. “There are a lot of people in the world. Even hiring someone to kill another person can be subcontracted through several layers. And that’s even more true of Gray Hat Street, which looks so ordinary on the surface but seems to have hidden depths.”

Ben only half understood. Then he heard Charlie ask him another question. “Which came first, the tower or the street?”

The tower first, or the street first?

Ben froze. He could feel his soul fire flickering ever so slightly at that moment. Blurry images stirred deep within his memories. He saw sunlight covering a meadow. He saw small white flowers swaying in the breeze. He saw the hem of a beautiful dress.

Ah, how nostalgic.

Even though he had already become a skeleton, Ben seemed to feel a lump in his throat. He vaguely remembered that, back then, he had still had flesh and blood. He could still hear the call of the wind and feel the warmth of the sunlight.

Listen. Someone is calling him.

Who is it?

Ben couldn’t remember. His soul fire flickered violently again, bringing back the splitting headache he hadn’t felt in so long, but he still couldn’t remember.

Suddenly, a hand rested on his head, giving him the slightest touch of warmth.

“If you can’t remember, then don’t force yourself to.” Charlie stroked his head and waited for him to calm down. Then he picked up his wineglass and gently clinked it against Ben’s skull. “Cheers to our first collaboration.”

Ben: “…”

What a strange person.

But this was nice.

He had someone to talk to again.

That night, Charlie spent a long time thinking by himself. In the darkness, it seemed as though a pair of invisible hands were weaving a web around him, keeping this soul from another world from finding rest.

He heard footsteps echoing along Gray Hat Street. He heard the sigh of the wind and the flutter of birds’ wings. In the end, another sunrise arrived.

Next door, Mrs. Macken was praying to the rising sun.

She always got up this early.

Charlie awoke in bed, rubbed his brow, and got up to wash.

He hadn’t forgotten that there was still a barber locked in the basement. But what concerned him more was when the Black-Armored Knights would come knocking.

Had last night’s investigation yielded any results?

Charlie began his meditation as usual. After going through it three times, he went downstairs to make breakfast.

Today’s breakfast was sunny-side-up eggs and bacon with broccoli. Charlie ate slowly, using the aroma of the food and the feeling of fullness to conceal the exhausted pallor left by his sleepless night. Only then did he go to the basement to check on the barber. He was still unconscious, breathing steadily, but no matter how Charlie tried to wake him, he showed no response.

Had yesterday’s potion taken effect?

Charlie checked his injuries again. He had already treated the wounds he’d suffered earlier, and they weren’t serious. The injuries Charlie and Ben had inflicted were on the back of his head. The bleeding had stopped, leaving behind dried blood and scabs.

He probably wouldn’t die anytime soon.

But Charlie didn’t want to kill someone for no reason, either. Since the barber was lying there obediently and posed no immediate threat, there was no harm in bandaging him.

By the time everything was taken care of, Charlie’s face had grown another shade paler.

The more Ben looked at him, the more he resembled a necromancer. Ben couldn’t help sighing inwardly. What a pity. He wasn’t willing to become one.

“What do we do next?” he asked.

“Wait.” Charlie slowly walked downstairs.

As he passed the window in the stairwell, he glanced out at the street. Gray Hat Street looked much the same as usual today. Groups of women from the neighborhood carried baskets covered with linen cloths, chatting and laughing as they headed toward the public ovens beside the market.

Ben came rolling along at his feet, still wanting to ask another question, but Charlie gave him no further answer.

Charlie was good at waiting.

Whether it was when he was a child and time seemed to pass so slowly as he waited for the sun to set, or when he had grown up and waited for the sun to rise, he knew one thing— There was no need to rush.

Who would be the first to come knocking?

Oh, it was Jeffrey.

Kind and enthusiastic Jeffrey had heard from the neighbors that Charlie wasn’t feeling well. Then he heard that the barber had disappeared and ran all the way back from the shoemaker’s shop around noon, his forehead covered in sweat.

“Hey, Charlie, are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Jeffrey. Don’t worry.”

Jeffrey didn’t believe him, but he wasn’t a doctor and couldn’t do anything to treat Charlie’s injuries. All he could do was scratch his head and remind Charlie to get plenty of rest. Then he suddenly slapped his forehead. “I almost forgot. I came out to buy some things. The old shoemaker got a huge order for hunting boots a few days ago. We have to finish them and ship them to the royal capital.”

“The royal capital?” Charlie remembered that it wasn’t particularly close. “Do you often get orders from the royal capital?”

Jeffrey shook his head. “A noble ordered them. Probably for some hunting party or another. Sometimes I really don’t understand those nobles. The old shoemaker said the hunting boots are made from the finest materials, but they’re not suitable for hunting at all.”

Charlie suddenly had a thought. “Then they must look really good.”

Jeffrey nodded enthusiastically. He thought Charlie would look especially good wearing those hunting boots, but as an apprentice, he couldn’t exactly afford to give him a pair.

After seeing Jeffrey off, Charlie returned to Pinecone Tower, deep in thought. But before he could even sit down, someone knocked on the door again. This time, it was the round-faced knight he had met once before.

The Black-Armored Knights had finally arrived.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Charlie Blaze. Allow me to introduce myself. George Woon, of the Magipo City Black-Armored Knights.” George grinned. Under the sunlight, his heavy black armor seemed almost light, softened by his smile.

“Is there something you need?” Charlie asked.

“It’s like this. Yesterday, we arrested a woman at the market on suspicion of theft. She claimed to be a guru, and the things she sold were very likely stolen goods. According to the information we received, you bought a book from her a few days ago, is that right?” George asked.

“That was stolen too?” Charlie asked hesitantly.

“We haven’t confirmed that yet. We need to investigate further. But don’t worry. Even if it turns out to be stolen, it’s not your problem. We just need your cooperation.” George flashed a mouthful of white teeth, dazzling Charlie. “Could you give me the book so I can take it back for verification?”

Charlie thought about it, then finally nodded. “All right.”

He went back to retrieve the book, but when he handed it over, he didn’t let go. “If it isn’t stolen, could you… give the book back to me?”

George glanced at the battered book, which looked practically beyond saving, and grew curious. “Is there something special about this book?”

Charlie looked him straight in the eye, his determination overwhelming every other emotion. “I want to become a mage. This may be my last chance.”

“Your last chance? With this book?” George wanted to laugh. He held it in for a few seconds, but eventually couldn’t stop himself.

However, he was an upright and kindhearted knight. How could he casually laugh at someone else? He quickly stopped himself and winked at Charlie. “All right, esteemed future mage. If it’s ultimately proven that this book isn’t stolen, I’ll apply to have it returned to you. Goodbye.”

With that, George waved and left.

Charlie stood in the doorway, watching his only textbook disappear into the distance, and sighed gloomily. He was actually telling the truth. Why didn’t he believe me?

George, already some distance away, flipped through Charlie’s textbook as he walked. When he reached Chapter Three, How to Slay a Dragon , he couldn’t help wondering whether poor little Charlie really had something wrong with his head.

Maybe he had gone to the barber to have an illness treated—an illness in his brain?

Back at Pinecone Tower, Ben was questioning Charlie. “Weren’t you going to learn magic from that book? You just gave it away. What if you can’t get it back?”

Charlie went back to continue making breakfast and answered calmly, “The book wasn’t very thick.”

“Huh?”

“While I was reading it last night, I memorized the whole thing.”

Ben thought it over carefully with his skeletal head before finally putting the pieces together. Had this person already guessed yesterday that the book would be taken away, and memorized it in advance?

You can do that?

Apparently you can.

Ben seemed to think of something and once again let out a string of bell-like giggles.

Charlie: “…”

Whenever Charlie used to see the phrase “a bell-like laugh,” he would wonder whether anyone really laughed like that. After coming to Totolando, he understood— If you died and became a skeleton, apparently you could.

The rest of the day passed peacefully.

Charlie spent a quiet afternoon. On Gray Hat Street, even the children’s laughter seemed to fade into the dust. The only sound came from the squirrel on its daily patrol. Holding a pinecone in its paws, it stood on the windowsill and chittered strangely, tilting its head again and again to check whether Charlie was still alive.

“Clang—”

When the sacred bell rang again and the setting sun began to disappear behind the distant mountains, Mrs. Macken kindly brought over a fragrant baked apple pie.

Charlie thanked her politely. Once his own dinner was ready, he returned the favor with a bowl of stewed wild rabbit.

Mrs. Macken’s cat opened the door for him. It sniffed around his trouser legs, seemingly checking whether he had been possessed by a devil, while also wondering why this human had eyes the same color as its own. After scrutinizing him for a long while, it finally let him inside.

With its tail held high, it looked utterly haughty.

Mrs. Macken was delighted by Charlie’s return gift. And from her, Charlie also learned the latest news about the barber’s disappearance—

“Him? Everyone’s saying he got himself into some romantic trouble and fled Magipo in the middle of the night.”

Romantic trouble?

This development was somewhat beyond Charlie’s expectations. Whether it was the guru being arrested on suspicion of theft or the barber fleeing overnight after getting himself into romantic trouble, both stories seemed like minor incidents being used to cover up something much bigger, deliberately concealing something.

Things were becoming more and more complicated—and more and more interesting.

Charlie didn’t know where the rumor had originated, and he didn’t press Mrs. Macken for details. After politely saying goodbye to her and her cat, he returned to Pinecone Tower.

Another night descended.

Tonight, at least, seemed to be a peaceful night.

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