Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: New Request (1)
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"Here, hop in."
Coco spoke from in front of the car parked at the restaurant entrance.
It was a sleek vehicle with a long, straight hood that screamed luxury at first glance.
And there was a female driver in uniform, complete with a cap, standing by.
Her short bob haircut left no openings for vulnerability, and her sharp gaze suggested she was far more than just a chauffeur.
The driver gave Oliver a piercing look as she courteously opened the car door.
"Thank you, Penny."
The woman called Penny gave a slight bow of her head.
After Coco settled into the back seat, she turned to Oliver again.
"What are you waiting for? Get in already."
Oliver did as instructed and took his seat.
The interior had seats facing each other on both sides. He'd thanked Penny the driver on his way in, but she merely gave a curt nod with cold eyes.
"Did I do something wrong by chance?"
"No, she's just not into men. Don't take it personally. We have quite a few members like that."
Oliver nodded.
Before leaving the restaurant, Coco had introduced herself as a member of the "Sisterhood," a women's survival group.
The Sisterhood was an organization formed by women in the harsh world of Randa—especially those at the very bottom with nowhere to turn—to support each other.
Now, its scale had grown enormously, encompassing female entrepreneurs, shop owners, hotel maids, barmaids, fixers, sex workers, widows, and women from all walks of life.
"It's impressive when you think about it. This Sisterhood of yours."
Oliver remarked from inside the purring car.
"It is pretty impressive. Back in the day, it was just talk, but now we're starting to gain real influence in Randa."
Oliver nodded.
According to Coco, the members pooled their money to lobby city councilors and officials.
They pushed for things like looser regulations on shops, reduced discrimination against sex workers, women's suffrage, and more.
"Well, personally, I'm more interested in business than voting rights."
Now for the main topic. Oliver asked,
"Who’s the client?"
"A big shot in R District. A heavyweight. Not core inner circle, but dipping his toes in the outer edges of that world."
***
"She's a real firecracker. Started as a bottom-rung laborer, then suddenly showed up with a wad of cash, jumped into Randa's speculative game, and hit it big a few times. Finally, she invested in a magic stone company called 'Prometheus' and struck the jackpot of a lifetime."
"...What's Prometheus?"
"Ugh... You really must've been living in a basement. Read a newspaper or something. Even fixers say ignorance won't cut it these days."
"Good advice. I'll take it."
Oliver replied to Coco's sarcasm with sincere earnestness, devoid of malice. Coco, however, didn't seem pleased, pulling a sour face.
"...Prometheus is a company that deals in magic stones, the heart of the magic industry. For some reason, they had the foresight to buy up worthless trash land in the New Continent. A few years later, massive magic stone deposits were discovered there, turning them into one of the top corporations in Randa... no, the entire Allied Kingdoms in no time. Naturally, their investors saw their status skyrocket too."
Oliver nodded with keen interest.
He'd been so focused on black magic and fixer work that he'd ignored such matters, but it seemed he really ought to start reading the papers and catch up on the world.
"After that, the client settled in R District, bought up a ton of real estate there, and lives like some medieval lord. She's one of the sponsors backing the district's councilors, so even the cops can't touch her."
"Impressive woman."
Coco then added,
"But she's as eccentric as she is impressive. Be careful."
"Got it... But can we really get those books?"
Oliver asked cautiously.
He was following along without knowing who the client was or the details of the request purely because the reward was books on demons.
"Yes, the client promised. She's a smooth liar, but given the circumstances, you can trust it."
"Circumstances?"
"Yeah, you'll see for yourself soon enough. It's faster that way. We're almost there, so relax."
Coco was right.
The scenery outside the car began to shift; the buildings grew more vibrant and lively, unlike ordinary streets.
He'd seen streets like this before... Ah! It reminded him of the one with Murphy's secret speakeasy.
"This doesn't look like a residential neighborhood."
"Of course not. This is 0 District, 66th Street. Aka, the Street of Joys. In more ways than one."
True to her words, the street was full of smiling men.
A man in a fedora rode in a convertible, passionately kissing young women dressed as prettily as Coco.
Women in flashy outfits strutted haughtily, seducing the men on the street.
From second-floor terraces, young ladies leaned out, calling to wealthy-looking young men to come play, trading jokes with them right there.
"A place for folks to have their fun, I see."
"Well... yeah, pretty much."
"Is the client here? I figured it'd be at her home."
"This is basically home for her. She spends more time here than anywhere else."
Just then, the car came to a smooth stop.
Penny's driving was top-notch; she hopped out and opened Coco's door right away.
"Thanks, Penny."
Penny bowed her head.
"Thank you, Miss Penny."
Penny gave a brief nod.
"Here we are."
Coco said in front of a building.
It was an old-fashioned rectangular structure, stretched long sideways, with a deep red roof.
The main entrance had a large arch-shaped sign with bulbs lining the frame.
"...Angel's House?"
"Yep, Angel's House. They send their guests straight to heaven."
Coco headed toward the main entrance as she spoke, and Oliver followed.
The large red door opened smoothly, revealing a lavish interior.
Thick carpets covered the floor seamlessly, one side featured a bar stocked with fancy magic liquors, and the other had a quiet lounge area.
Waitresses in skimpy outfits attended guests, or sat in display windows blowing kisses and smiling at passing men. Oliver couldn't quite grasp what kind of place it was.
Then again, having been bullied at the orphanage as a kid, he knew nothing about fun and games.
"Mama, Coco's here."
A waitress carrying drinks spotted Coco and Oliver, then dashed off somewhere shouting.
She had fake wings on her back.
"Coco's here?"
A woman descended from the second floor.
She was elderly, with white hair, but impeccably groomed like Forrest, exuding elegance.
Her clothes were neat and dignified, her hair in a tidy bun, and though time had etched her face, she retained the beauty of her youth.
She glided over gracefully to Coco.
"You made it on time."
"Of course. It's me, Mama."
Mama. Sounded like a name, but it felt off for one.
"And who's that...?"
The elderly woman called Mama pointed at Oliver.
"Yes, the dark horse from T District I told you about, Dave. Dave, this is the owner of Angel's House."
"Hello, Mr. Dave. I'm Mama Elizabeth, proprietor of Angel's House."
Oliver bowed politely.
"I'm Dave, a fixer. Pleased to meet you."
Elizabeth smiled warmly.
"Just as Coco said, you're a polite one."
"Just following my childhood training... Is Mama your name, by the way?"
Coco's expression twisted slightly.
But Elizabeth just smiled softly and explained.
"Mama's a kind of manager title. It's what we call someone who helps out the members."
"Ah... I see."
"You're as quirky as they said."
"Am I?"
"...Do you know about the request?"
"Just the reward. Nothing on the details."
"Perfect. That's exactly what the client wants."
"I'm not quite following. Where is the client?"
"In the VIP room. I'll show you."
With that, Oliver was handed off from Coco to Elizabeth like a baton pass.
The VIP room was on the top floor, fourth level. At the entrance, a muscular woman and a sharp-faced man stood guard.
'Special treatment here.'
It was soundproofed solid; no noise from outside penetrated. Passing many doors, Elizabeth stopped at the priciest-looking one.
There was a small wired communicator by the door. She spoke into it.
"Mr. Rock. I've brought him... Yes, understood."
Elizabeth set the device back and said,
"Please wait a moment."
Oliver waited as told. Soon, the door opened, and eight women emerged.
They clutched wads of bills, their faces a mix of displeasure and glee at the big earnings.
What on earth had they been doing?
"Come in."
A voice like a dying man's croaked from inside.
Peering in, Oliver saw a pale, piggy-faced old man who looked utterly exhausted.
"Ears clogged? I said come in."
***
Oliver entered the room with Elizabeth as instructed.
A lamp-like machine was puffing out sweet-scented smoke nonstop. Both the device and the smoke carried faint traces of mana.
*Sniff. Sniff.*
Oliver inhaled and instantly knew it was a potion.
He'd never used one, but he'd smelled them in the magic liquor workshop, and it matched.
'Why smoke it? Potions heal and restore, but drinking has side effects... Is indirect inhalation to avoid the burden? Is he sick?'
Oliver's mind raced.
He'd reached this conclusion because the man looked ill—not just outwardly, but his life force was erratic and dim.
'He's practically on death's door.'
"What're you starin' at like a bad omen? Into guys or somethin'?"
The pale, fat old man snapped irritably. He was in just his underwear and sweatpants.
He grunted trying to pull on pants, sighed tiredly, then went back to it.
After two or three tries, he got both legs in but gave up, sitting with the zipper down and undies showing.
He looked utterly drained.
"Haa... Fuckin' ears clogged?"
"Pardon?"
"Asked ya? Why the stare? Answer when I ask."
The old man scowled fiercely.
His irritation flared to anger, laced with malice to break Oliver's spirit.
Oliver, unperturbed, answered as usual.
"Ah... Sorry. I saw you changing pants."
"......"
"......"
The old man and Elizabeth stared at Oliver in disbelief.
As if to say, what kind of lunatic is this?
"Fuckin' hell, never seen a nutjob like this... Ellie, this guy's legit?"
Elizabeth gave an awkward smile.
"Absolutely. Coco brought him."
"Or maybe that little temptress is past her prime too. Women are like fruit—fragrant and tasty, but short shelf life. Ha! Ain't that right?"
The old man laughed at his own joke, ha ha ha.
Elizabeth chuckled too, but Oliver alone didn't.
"Why ain't ya laughin'? Hilarious joke."
The old man scowled deeply all of a sudden. It was intimidating, but it barely registered with Oliver.
"Sorry. I’m no good at laughing."
"No good at laughin'?"
"Yes, I practiced, but it never works well."
"Laugh and I'll give ya ten billion. Deal?"
Sudden offer. Ten billion—an amount that'd let Oliver take a long fixer break for research.
"Hm... One sec... Hm... Sorry, still can't."
Oliver tried earnestly but failed. Smiling was just too hard.
"Haa... Madman. Perfect. Ellie, get out. Gonna talk man-to-man."