Chapter 19: Brownie

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Chapter 19: Brownie

Ben was so nervous, so nervous that it seemed as though he had returned to that night when they had battled the barber.

His skull was hidden in the chimney, his hands were hanging in the hallway, his leg bones were pretending to be mop handles in the linen room, and his ribs were still hiding under the bed in self-isolation… No, that was wrong. They were lying in wait.

He had made every possible preparation.

But he waited and waited. The black figure writhing outside the window still hadn’t made its way inside after all this time. The rustling had been going on for ages—rustle, rustle, and still more rustling.

Ben was getting so anxious that he wished he could go open the window for the intruder himself.

After a long while, the black figure seemed to give up and simply ran away. Ben constantly reminded himself to keep himself hidden, so he couldn’t exactly chase after it. For a moment, all his bones froze in place, completely at a loss.

Until—

“Huh?”

“Huh!!!”

The black figure ran to the top of the tower, intending to sneak in through the chimney. But the moment it jumped inside, it saw a skull hanging against the chimney wall. The scant moonlight illuminated half of his skull, revealing eye sockets as black as bottomless pits.

Before Ben could even react, the black figure’s eyes rolled back in fright, and it plummeted straight down the chimney, crashing into the fireplace. The skull immediately came tumbling down after it in a panic.

“Clang!”

The pot had overturned again.

For the second time.

Charlie came downstairs with a coat draped over his shoulders. Looking at the completely shattered pot, the self-isolating skeleton, and the unidentified creature curled into a trembling ball, he suddenly felt that his life was truly fascinating.

“Who are you?” he asked, crouching down.

The unidentified creature trembled again. Its entire body was wrapped in a tattered brown cloak. It looked smaller than a human but larger than a cat. When Charlie reached out a hand toward it, it immediately retreated three meters.

It was surprisingly nimble.

“Ah, I know!” The skull suddenly snapped out of his self-isolation, rolling over and bouncing around the creature. “It’s a brownie, a type of fairy!”

Charlie was slightly surprised. “A brownie?”

First a vampire, and now a brownie?

Ben explained further, “Brownies are kind fairies. They can be a little mischievous sometimes, but they don’t hurt people.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the unidentified creature wrapped in brown cloth began rustling again. Charlie didn’t rush to speak. He also held Ben back with one hand and waited patiently.

Before long, a tiny hand cautiously emerged from beneath the cloth. It placed down a crumpled note, then quickly withdrew again.

Charlie picked up the note. A few crooked words were written on it—

[Leave Magipo.]

Who? Who wanted Charlie to leave Magipo? And why?

Charlie fell into thought and looked at the brownie again, only to meet its eyes as they secretly peeked out at him. The little brownie jumped in fright and quickly hid again, but accidentally left its pointed ears exposed.

“Can you tell me who sent you here?” Charlie asked in a gentler tone.

“N-no, I can’t…” The brownie’s voice was tiny and delicate, barely louder than a mosquito.

“They’re very trustworthy. Once they agree to keep someone’s secret, they won’t tell anyone.” Ben looked at it as memories began to surface. He vaguely remembered having seen countless fairies in the past. Some were mischievous enough to knock over alchemical potions and then frame someone else for it. Others were kindhearted and did nothing but grunt away at their work. Some were nimble enough to fly, while others were so clumsy they seemed to stumble over every word.

I really miss those days.

A wave of nostalgia washed over Ben once more, and he couldn’t help saying to Charlie, “Don’t lock it up, okay?”

Charlie couldn’t help laughing. “Did I ever say I was going to lock it up?”

Well, I did consider it.

The basement had been empty for several days, and he couldn’t exactly rent it out to outsiders.

As Charlie thought, he unconsciously rubbed the note between his fingers. He caught a faint scent of leather coming from it, and a thought occurred to him. He stood up and said, “You can go.”

“Huh?” The brownie looked up in surprise.

It had a small, flat face, tiny eyes, and tiny nostrils, with freckles scattered across its face. Its messy brown hair resembled the curls of a little puppy. It seemed unable to believe what it was hearing. Its pointed ears twitched once, then again.

Ben kindly went over to reassure it, but the skeleton had just scared it half to death. The moment it saw him approach, it nimbly retreated three meters again.

Ben was about to retreat into self-isolation again.

Charlie laughed, picked the skull up from the floor, and looked at the brownie. “If you don’t leave now, I might change my mind.”

The brownie couldn’t help gathering its courage to sneak another look at him. This human was frightening, carrying a skull in his arms. Yet under the warm lamplight, he was as beautiful as an elf—noble and elegant, as though he radiated an endless allure.

“Huh?” The brownie made a confused, trembling sound and cautiously took a few more steps backward. Seeing that Charlie really wasn’t going to stop it, it hurried toward the window.

Just as it was about to squeeze through the window, Charlie’s voice sounded from behind it.

“I won’t leave Magipo. At least, not for now.”

The brownie paused, then quickly climbed out the window. It disappeared almost in the blink of an eye, vanishing into the darkness of night and making it impossible to track.

Pinecone Tower fell quiet again, and Ben instead stared in disbelief. “You really let it go.”

Charlie casually burned the note and lowered his eyes to watch the flames. “I have a pretty good idea where it came from, but it’s a little different from what I originally thought.”

“Where? Where did it come from?” Ben was dying of curiosity, but Charlie didn’t hurry to answer. Instead, he turned around, cleaned up the broken pieces of the ceramic pot, took an old pot he no longer needed from the cabinet, washed it clean, and began boiling—fire salamander skin.

“What are you doing now???” Ben was completely bewildered.

“To give myself a legitimate reason for getting up in the middle of the night—making potions,” Charlie replied.

“What kind of potion?” Ben asked instinctively.

“A potion that might come in handy.” Charlie watched the fire salamander skin churning in the boiling water, then, without Ben noticing, somehow produced a paper packet from his clothes and took several strands of hair from it.

None of the hair was blond. It obviously didn’t belong to Charlie, nor could it belong to Ben. Ben didn’t have any hair at all.

“Whose is this?”

“Take a guess.”

Charlie selected one strand and dropped it into the pot. Ben couldn’t remember how many alchemical potion recipes his master had recorded in The Alchemy Notes , but Charlie, who had only just studied them, remembered them perfectly.

The potion was called—Truth Potion.

No killing, no bloodshed, with honesty at its core and harmony above all.

Of course, making a proper potion required many more steps and additional materials. Given Charlie’s current level of alchemy, it was difficult. So he followed the principle that a slow bird has to get an early start: while everyone else slept, he got to work on his potions first.

The all-nighters he never pulled in the modern world, he was making up for here in Totolando.

Such was the time, such was fate.

The people of Gray Hat Street had no doubts whatsoever about Charlie’s dedication. They might question his talent, but they never denied how hard he worked, because that was plain for everyone to see.

The next morning, Charlie went out early to Lily House to order his breakfasts for the coming week.

Daisy happened to be working at the shop again that day. She was wearing earrings with little purple flowers.

“Charlie, congratulations.” Daisy took out a jar of jam she had prepared in advance, tied a ribbon around it, and gave it to him as a congratulatory gift for becoming an alchemist.

Charlie didn’t refuse too much and accepted it graciously, planning to make a few potions for her in return later.

While talking with Daisy, he glanced toward Oak Tavern across the intersection. Mishlei, who had been busy there since early morning, was once again stealing glances in this direction whenever he had the chance. The moment he spotted a certain figure, he even started working a little harder.

Youth really is wonderful.

Charlie sighed inwardly.

Mishlei could work a 996 schedule at the tavern and still be so full of energy, while Charlie had stayed up all night and finally lost the healthy flush that had just returned to his complexion.

As Charlie walked down the street, he could even see pity in the eyes of the Gray Hat Street neighbors coming toward him.

Poor little Charlie. He must have been delirious with a fever yesterday when he said all that. Just look at him—he’s pale again today!

This pity reached its peak when the jeweler’s carriage came to take Charlie away again. Even Daisy, despite being more than willing to believe Charlie, couldn’t help casting a concerned look at the carriage as it passed in front of the shop.

“Ahem.” Sitting in the carriage, Charlie remained calm but pale. He looked at the man sitting opposite him and asked, “Mr. Vic, what brings you here today?”

“My reputation on Gray Hat Street hasn’t been very good lately, it seems.” Vic was still wearing his eye patch. He had changed into an entirely black formal suit, which made him look even more disreputable.

“Is that so? I’m still new here, so I wouldn’t know,” Charlie replied.

Vic smiled and didn’t press him. Instead, he changed the subject. “The one currently in charge of investigating Gray Hat Street is Salomon’s deputy captain. His name is Leon—Leon Boyle. He’s descended from a proper noble household, but he’s a complete rogue who does things his own way.”

Charlie seemed not to understand why Vic was telling him all this and said nothing.

Vic immediately dropped a bombshell. “The barber’s body has been found.”

Charlie’s heart tightened. He instantly realized that this barber wasn’t the vampire assassin, but the real barber. “Where?”

Vic replied, “In Magipo’s underground reservoir.”

That was a truly terrible answer. Charlie didn’t doubt the truth of the location where the body had been dumped, but he did question Vic’s intentions. “Why are you telling me?”

“This Deputy Captain Leon found the body. He’s very skilled at tracking. But the vampire assassin seems to have anticipated this and used ice magic on the body beforehand, altering its condition and making it impossible to determine the exact time of death. I’m only telling you so you’ll know to be careful.”

Vic was always generous when it came to demonstrating his sincerity toward his partners, while Charlie was as stingy with his trust as ever.

But Charlie could be generous with his lies. “Thank you for the warning, Mr. Vic. However, coming to see me the moment the body was found—isn’t that a little too deliberate?”

“No.” Vic’s answer remained brimming with confidence. “Our destination today is the Higher Academy of Magic.”

“The magic academy?” Charlie was beginning to have no idea what Vic was really up to.

“The great and proud mages don’t think much of a vulgar jeweler like me. They even arrogantly turned down my visit before. But now, they very much want that magic ore vein from me.” Vic crossed his legs and shifted into a more comfortable position, as though he simply assumed Charlie already knew about the magic ore vein. “So, before the banquet begins, they invited me privately to visit the magic academy first.”

So, were they planning to make some dirty deal behind the scenes?

Charlie pretended not to understand. “Then I can get out up ahead.”

But Vic’s jeweled cane lay across the space between Charlie and the carriage door. Vic leaned forward slightly and asked with a light laugh, “What would you say if I told them that one of my conditions for the exchange was that they make an exception and allow you to enter the magic academy?”

What would I say?

That would be like provoking the powers that be—or dancing on the Emperor’s grave.

Since its founding, the Higher Academy of Magic had never rewritten its rules for anyone, even if that person was a member of the royal family or a high-ranking member of the Council. Anyone who openly asked for a backdoor favor was undoubtedly challenging its authority.

Interesting.

And Charlie asked him, unable to hide his anticipation: “Really?”

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