Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 38
Chapter Title: Otherworld Bar Owner (3)
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The short, sturdy man flashed a refreshing smile at the people staring at him in a daze, then approached me.
"Ian? Didn't think you'd actually show up."
I put on a broad smile and shook his hand.
We'd only met once, and we weren't particularly close.
But when you're inviting every acquaintance you can think of, someone like him slips in. And now here he was, riding in on a dragon and delivering a shock to everyone—how could I not grow fond of him now?
This day's events would be talked about for ages, ensuring my name stuck around.
"Oh wow, you even brought Elisabeth. No issues with the aviation laws?"
"Nah, we've got exemption privileges. Training wrapped up, and time was tight, so I came straight here."
He said it with his usual cheeky grin.
"Haha, as expected of the Dragon Special Forces! Impressive."
"Anyway, we've got a lot to catch up on. Were you in the middle of something important?"
Ian tilted his head, glancing at President Braithner, who looked utterly dumbfounded.
"I'll be right in. Grab something to eat inside."
"Sounds good. What about that Oscar guy who loves dragons?"
"Factory shift hasn't ended yet. He'll be here soon."
"Got it. Be good and wait patiently, Elisabeth."
Ian sauntered into the bar whistling a tune, and the crowd swarmed after him.
"Well then, President Braithner, shall we continue our talk?"
But the moment for talk had passed. Onlookers buzzed with chatter, and the dragon, annoyed by those trying to touch her out of curiosity, snorted them away.
Emmett, looking irritated amid the chaos and tugging at his mustache, finally calmed down and turned to me.
"Let's move somewhere quiet."
I led him to the small yard behind the shop and stared at him silently.
"...Clerk Redan. I'm truly grateful to you. Risking your life to save someone isn't something just anyone can do. I'm not strutting around just because I gave you a reward. But listen, can you really take in a young girl who impulsively runs off? It's improper, a scandal!"
Emmett tried to speak calmly, but he'd already laid his cards bare several times in front of me.
"I'm sorry, sir. As I mentioned earlier, Miss Braithner isn't some 'young girl.' She's a full adult with the capacity to make her own decisions.
She was top of her class throughout university—sharp as a tack, with a calm demeanor. I doubt a girl like that would 'impulsively' elope out of love.
I understand your worry as a father, but I have no intention of harming her. I'll step aside gracefully and send her back whenever she wants. No need to fret."
"But Clerk Redan, she's still a naive child who doesn't know the ways of the world!"
"Haa..."
I deliberately made a troubled, annoyed face and ruffled my hair.
"Sir, I hesitate to say this, but was the talk of love in her letter just an excuse? I heard everything—how harshly you treated her and her mother."
Emmett's face went pale as stone.
Whoops. I'd stabbed right at his softest, most painful spot without hesitation.
Seeing his hurt, defeated expression made me feel a twinge of guilt, but what was done was done.
Better for me to play the villain and be done with it.
After standing like a statue for a long while, Emmett stammered, "D-Did she... tell you everything?"
"Yes. Even what you fought about. She's a dangerous one."
"This story..."
"I won't report it or anything. She's just a pitiful girl twisted by craving the love she never got from her father—not a rebel, right?"
True enough.
"But sir, do you think Miss Braithner can stay suppressed under you forever? She'd run away eventually anyway. Even if you take her back now, she'll fight to leave again, and the rumors will spread like wildfire. Better for it to be seen as a lovers' quarrel than the truth getting out, don't you think?"
Emmett mulled over my words. I could see him shifting from father to cold businessman before my eyes.
"...You're right. But why go so far to protect her? What's in it for you?"
I gave a dry smile.
"I just don't want to see the woman whose life I saved dragged to the execution grounds. Or watch you suffer, for that matter. After all, I owe you for helping me set up this proper shop."
He eyed me suspiciously. But half lie, half truth—he wouldn't pinpoint my real motives.
"Very well. I'll head back for today. But promise me: if Erika changes her mind, send her home immediately."
"Of course. You think I'd imprison your daughter? I'll respect Miss Braithner's wishes."
He gave a hollow smile at my light joke.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The opening party was a roaring success.
The drinks and food were delicious, and there was plenty of spectacle—lovers' quarrels, dragons, you name it. Not that I'd planned it.
At any rate, the guests were thrilled and partied late into the night.
Lieutenant Ian Keller drew some attention away from Erika, proudly showing off his magnificent green dragon Elisabeth to everyone. Oscar arrived after work and joined him in belting out dragon praises.
Ian grilled me on why I'd lied about being a factory worker, putting me in a spot, but when I groveled that it was to help Oscar, he burst out laughing and let it slide.
Ian still seemed deeply impressed by Oscar and Sonya's "friendship(?)."
"Ugh, we've done test flights several times since, but I haven't seen Sonya!"
"Tough break, tough break. Lieutenant Maximilian Fischer doesn't go for that stuff. At least cheer up with our Elisabeth!"
The two bonded instantly over dragon talk, becoming fast pals. They jumped into a card game and swept the table—it was thrilling to watch.
Dawn broke, and Ian flew off on his dragon, promising to visit often.
"Won't bring Elisabeth next time!"
"Haha, please do."
I'd lost track of how many plates of raw meat I'd served that guy. Good thing the reward money left plenty after opening the shop—otherwise, budget disaster.
The other guests seemed to have a great time too.
Judging by the good buzz spreading about our tavern.
The next day, customers flooded in—factory bosses, soldiers, all sorts.
Dealing with 13th District VIPs every evening left my cheeks numb and twitching from constant smiling as I served them.
Of course, that didn't erase the gloomy, dangerous vibe my friends teased me about, but still.
About a week later, while sorting ingredients, Amelie stared at me and suddenly said,
"Lucas, your face looks a bit different."
"What're you talking about?"
"Still looks rough and precarious, but... softer? No, more charming, maybe?"
"Charming?"
"Must be from smiling more. ...You should've smiled like that back then."
I had nothing to say, so I just gave an awkward smile.
Whether my cheeks twitched or not, the hard work had paid off.
Customers kept coming steadily, seats always full.
A good number threw meaningful glances just seeing Erika and me exchange brief words, or probed our relationship indirectly—annoying types, but we ignored them anyway.
We'd agreed to leverage the notoriety. I even fueled their imaginations with vague comments.
Meanwhile, as I'd guided, the tavern was evolving into a free, relaxed salon atmosphere.
Thanks to agonizing over the perfect location, cozy VIP nooks, billiards tables, card sets, and more.
Patrons started debating world events over drinks, smokes, and games.
I'd join card games, pour drinks, toss in a word or two now and then—and they'd spill even more.
The latest radios in the hall and VIP rooms blared nonstop news. Guests listened intently, adding their takes. Eavesdropping let me gauge their leanings easily.
'Guess my real talent is loose lips.'
A wry smile escaped, but no time to dwell—a bowler-hatted gentleman raised his glass, calling me over.
"Boss—no, Mr. Redan. What do you think of this article? That guy's spouting nonsense."
"Nonsense? Your language is too harsh. I heard it from a contact in the Leader's office. Mages there are developing new combat spells."
"Haha, sir, leaking secrets like that? Looks like you've had enough—time to cut off the drinks."
"Not a secret. Common knowledge!"
Overwhelmed by the flood of overheard gossip daily, I could barely remember it all.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Lucas, I'm heading out."
Two a.m., tavern closing time.
Amelie finished checking tomorrow's ingredients, buttoned her coat, and called out.
"Yeah, good work, Amelie."
Leaning on the bar counter tallying sales, I waved and locked the door.
I drew the curtains tight, killed the hall lights. Erika and Daniel, done with closing cleanup, stretched.
"Today's finally over."
"Not yet."
They groaned at my words.
"Come on, downstairs."
In the basement secret room, Georg and Oscar sprawled asleep in armchairs. Richard rubbed sleepy eyes beside them, reading a paper.
"Hey, wake up."
"Yawn..."
Everyone gulped water, woke up, and gathered on the sofas.
I pulled out the notebook and pen from under the sofa.
Time to compile today's intel.
Georg tossed in newspapers with hidden notes—lately preferring the tavern over his boarding house.
Oscar and Richard had memorized factory and hospital gossip well.
Oscar came drinking almost daily, fine. But Georg and Richard couldn't every day. So we settled on Friday nights into Saturday dawn.
Meeting weekly had massively boosted the White Crow Unit's intel gathering.
"Georg, got all this week's notes sorted. Anything to add?"
"Oh, heard something today..."
"I caught similar rumors too. A patient at the hospital..."
We listened to every scrap of local talk, shared, sorted, recorded—even tiny, trivial rumors.
Growing skilled, the info volume swelled over time. Patterns emerged.
Our trashy compilations finally coalesced into meaningful inferences.
"Scanning it all, after announcing they'd eradicate rebel groups nationwide, they're purging mercilessly."
Oscar spoke gravely.
"But results seem scant. Even if any..."
"Fabricated?"
Krüger believed in the White Crow Unit.
But as I'd guessed, intoxicated by spotting my self-harm ploy, he hadn't deduced the incident itself was fake.
Arrogance blinded him.
Thus, orders to "delete" reactionary groups like us—but it wouldn't happen overnight.
Sudden spike in conspiracy busts, dragged-off students, vague rumors.
"Cops and Ossel thrashing around for stats."
Everyone nodded at my conclusion.
"Then we show 'em the real deal? Plenty forgetting Erika's kidnapping by now—time to remind 'em of the White Crow Unit."