Chapter 11: New Rumors

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Chapter 11: New Rumors

The next day, a new rumor began circulating through Gray Hat Street.

The reason Charlie, the daydreamer from the strange tower, always looked so gloomy was obviously because he had been eating too much rabbit. After all, doctors at the time believed that eating wild rabbit could cause insomnia and melancholy.

Oh, poor little Charlie.

This was a development Charlie had never anticipated. He had bought rabbit simply because it was cheaper than other kinds of meat. He didn’t have many gold coins left, so he needed to watch his spending.

So who knew he had been eating rabbit?

Mrs. Macken, of course, after receiving some rabbit stew in return. Kind-hearted Mrs. Macken had only one flaw: she was far too fond of gossip. All over Gray Hat Street, she had people gathering secondhand information for her.

As for the meat vendors? They hated rumors like this more than anyone, just as wine merchants would never admit that drinking was bad for your health.

Gray Hat Street was having another lively day.

The thieving guru, the womanizing barber, and gloomy little Charlie had divided the neighborhood between them, becoming the hottest topics of conversation at everyone’s dinner table.

No one knew that gloomy little Charlie was currently giving the womanizing barber a haircut.

Only Ben knew. Ben, who had witnessed everything, had his skull perched on the candle beside them, illuminating himself in a rather literal “stick myself on it and make myself glow” fashion. Once again, he became a walking encyclopedia of questions and asked, “Why are you shaving his hair off?”

Charlie answered offhandedly, “To make a wig for you.”

Ben asked, “Really?”

Charlie turned at the sound of that and saw the “blazing flames” burning in Ben’s eye sockets. He calmly nodded. “Really.”

Ben was delighted. “Then we’ll have matching hair!”

Before long, the womanizing barber had become completely bald. Fortunately, he was still unconscious and didn’t yet have to face such a cruel reality.

Charlie looked at the golden hair in his hand and once again confirmed that he had no way to remove the barber’s disguise through external means. Even the hair had failed to return to its original state after being cut off.

But what had the barber looked like originally? What was his real face?

Was he really a barber?

Or was he someone who had infiltrated Magipo, disguised himself as a barber, and then intended to disguise himself as Charlie? If so, where was the real barber?

Was he still alive?

Charlie had no way of answering those questions for now. Looking at the barber, who seemed completely oblivious as he remained lost in sleep, Charlie began thinking about another troublesome problem—

He couldn’t keep the barber here forever.

Ben, however, had no such concerns. His gaze was fixed intently on the long golden hair in Charlie’s hand. All he wanted was to get his wig as soon as possible. So Charlie took him upstairs and began working on it.

But how exactly was he supposed to make a wig?

Even Charlie, with his nimble hands and practical skills, was stumped.

A sudden knock at the door came to his rescue. Charlie gave Ben’s head an apologetic pat and told him to hide before getting up to answer the door. Ben was disappointed, but obediently rolled off to the side.

A strange middle-aged man stood outside. His lower legs were wrapped in layer upon layer of red cloth strips, marking him as a professional runner. Or, more precisely, the lowest-ranking kind of messenger.

He had come to inform Charlie that he could go to the knight order to collect his book.

After delivering the message, the messenger hurried away impatiently, seemingly quite displeased with Gray Hat Street and its entirely commoner population.

Charlie didn’t even have time to ask whether the case had been solved, who had issued the order, or why they wanted him to go there himself if all they wanted to do was return his book. Was there some special purpose behind it, or was there simply some procedure he had to go through?

With those questions on his mind, Charlie knocked on Mrs. Macken’s door next door. Perhaps his neighbor, a woman rich in practical wisdom, could offer poor little Charlie some advice.

When Mrs. Macken heard that he was going to the knight order, she immediately covered her mouth in exaggerated alarm. “Oh, little Charlie. As much as I’d like to tell you not to be afraid, I’ve never been there myself. Their estate outside the city, though, does have some business dealings with people on Gray Hat Street.”

Charlie followed up naturally. “What kind of business?”

Mrs. Macken told him everything she knew. “All kinds. The old shoemaker’s boots, glass from the Beagle Workshop. Oh, and this year’s snow season lasted unusually long, so food prices have gone up quite a bit. Those knightly gentlemen were generous enough to sell some of their grain, and I bought some myself. Fair prices, too, and it wasn’t old stock either…”

From this, Charlie gained a general impression of how the Black-Armored Knights conducted itself.

At the end, Mrs. Macken suddenly remembered something else and cheerfully offered him some advice. “I just remembered that I know someone who’s a knight apprentice there. If you run into trouble, you might be able to ask him for help. He’s the nephew of a distant relative of Jeffrey’s neighbor. A very honest young man.”

Listening to this impossibly convoluted relationship, Charlie could only sigh. No matter what world you lived in, connections and favors were apparently unavoidable.

After saying goodbye to Mrs. Macken, Charlie returned to Pinecone Tower to make a few preparations. He also gave Ben a few instructions, and only after making sure he hadn’t forgotten anything did he set out for the knight order.

The knight order’s estate outside the city was part of their territory, while their usual offices were located at 22 Emerald Street in the southern district of Magipo City.

Magipo City was enormous. To get from Gray Hat Street in the western district to 22 Emerald Street, Charlie needed to go to the main road and find a ride. A carriage cost ten copper coins, while an ordinary cart cost five. Of course, if you were lucky, you might happen upon a passing freight wagon. For just one or two copper coins, a generous merchant or a coachman looking to make a little extra money might let you ride along.

Charlie didn’t want to spend too much time on the road, so he paid ten copper coins for a carriage. He was lucky today. He was the only passenger.

Half an hour later, he arrived at 22 Emerald Street.

Charlie looked up at the imposing white, church-like building before him. Its towering doors and the knight order’s flags fluttering above them were intimidating enough even before he stepped inside.

There was nothing left to do but face it head-on. Charlie approached the guard at the entrance and explained why he was there. The guard looked him up and down without ever taking his hand off his sword hilt, then simply pointed inside, telling Charlie to go in himself.

Charlie found this a little strange. For a place that looked so strict and disciplined, its security seemed surprisingly lax.

With that question in mind, Charlie walked through the entrance.

From outside, the doors had looked enormous, perhaps four or five meters tall. Once inside, Charlie realized that the vaulted ceiling of Number 22 was even higher. Walking through the vast interior made it easy to feel insignificant. The flags hanging crossed along the walls and the statues of armored knights holding their swords aloft all seemed to silently scrutinize him.

Tap, tap…

His footsteps echoed through the vast space. No matter how quietly he walked, the sound was impossible to avoid. It was practically a thief’s worst nightmare.

Charlie had someone hidden at home, but he didn’t feel guilty in the slightest. Looking around was only natural when visiting a place like this for the first time. When he finally passed a room where several people were gathered, however, he found them arguing.

Gossip was another part of human nature, so he stopped to listen for a moment.

In short, the cuckolded husband wanted to duel his wife’s lover. But the laws of the city prohibited unauthorized duels. They had to apply for permission to duel at the knight order, invite a witness, and sign a dueling waiver.

Normally, the knight order assigned the witness. These two gentlemen were a little different. They had chosen their own witness: the lady standing nearby, calling out, “Please, don’t fight!” while her face was hidden behind a thin veil and her eyes crinkled with amusement.

Meanwhile, in the captain’s office on the second floor:

It was the same desk, and the same Captain Salomon with his piercing eagle-like eyes. Standing with his hands behind his back before the window, he turned and asked, “The boy from Gray Hat Street is here? How did he behave along the way?”

The round-faced knight George scratched his head. “Pretty normal.”

“What is he doing now?”

“Listening in on an argument downstairs.”

“…”

Meanwhile, the little love triangle had progressed to the cuckolded husband and his wife’s lover hurling accusations and exposing each other’s dirty laundry. Afraid they might actually start fighting and get him caught in the crossfire, Charlie reluctantly left and continued on.

Several knights hurried past. Charlie tried to ask them for directions, but none of them stopped. From the fragments of conversation he overheard as they passed, it seemed there had been another brawl at a tavern somewhere in the city.

One of the knights ground his teeth and said he was going to dunk those “damn mercenaries who can’t tell north from south after a few bottles of wine” into one of Magipo’s drainage channels and wash their heads clean.

Charlie grew tired from walking. Since it didn’t look like anyone would be dealing with him anytime soon, he sat down on a bench against the wall.

Before long, he saw two men coming down from upstairs. One was short and slightly older, with a thin build, a small mustache, and the red uniform of an administrative official. He looked furious, his mouth moving as he muttered about something Charlie couldn’t hear. His anger wasn’t directed at the man beside him, however. It seemed as though someone upstairs had given him a hard time.

The other was a tall, handsome young man in his twenties, with an easy smile that made him impossible to overlook. He seemed quite respectful toward the administrative official, yet everything about his manner suggested that he was actually the one in control of the conversation.

This man…

Charlie quickly restrained his gaze and cautiously observed him through the Roman-style columns along the staircase.

The young man’s posture was straight and imposing. Although he had black hair and dark eyes, his features were unmistakably Western. He had a high nose bridge and deep-set eyes, while a black eyepatch reminiscent of a pirate covered his right eye, adding an air of mystery.

He wore a black double-breasted formal coat, his long hair loosely tied behind his head. Three rings adorned his fingers, but the most eye-catching was the emerald ring on his right thumb, its gemstone nearly the size of a pigeon’s egg.

Looking more closely, Charlie noticed that he was also carrying an ornate cane, its black gemstone radiating a restrained kind of luxury.

A noble’s son, perhaps? Charlie silently withdrew his gaze and continued sitting there, playing the part of gloomy Charlie. Just then, a knight apprentice hurried over and asked for his name.

“Charlie. My name is Charlie Blaze. I’m from Gray Hat Street. I was told to come here to collect my book.”

“Then come with me. We just need to do a quick check first.”

“Check?”

Charlie stopped mid-step, looking puzzled.

The knight apprentice explained, “Don’t worry. It’s just a routine check. You’re an outsider, and you happened to get caught up in a case, so we need to complete your records and conduct a general assessment of your abilities. Both magic and swordsmanship will be tested.”

Magic? A crystal ball?

Charlie couldn’t be sure what kind of result a crystal ball would give him now. If it revealed his current level of magic, then…

At the end of the day, Charlie had no idea how much the knight order knew about Pinecone Tower’s secrets. If their investigation somehow uncovered the truth about his “resurrection,” things could get very serious.

But what was he supposed to do now?

In that split second, countless thoughts raced through Charlie’s mind. But he knew he couldn’t stall for too long. Just as he was about to speak, a deep, magnetic voice sounded from behind him, carrying a hint of amusement.

“Charlie? Charlie from Gray Hat Street, the one who was so determined to become a mage?”

Charlie turned around and saw the young man with the black eyepatch leaning against the staircase railing, looking down at him. The administrative official beside him looked surprised. “Mr. Vic, you know him?”

Vic’s lips curved into a smile. “I’ve heard a little about him. As you know, I’m good friends with the gentleman from Mindo Tower. I heard a few things from him.”

Mindo Tower.

The moment Charlie heard the name, he knew it was a mage tower, but it didn’t seem to be on the list of mage towers he had visited before. Strange.

“What brings you here?” Vic asked, looking at Charlie with evident interest. Before Charlie could answer, he teased, “Given up on magic and decided to learn swordsmanship instead?”

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