Chapter 111
Chapter 111
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 111
Chapter Title: Invitation (2)
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Thud. Thud.
Oliver followed the silk-hatted beggar deeper into the sewer without a word from Jane.
It was fundamentally very dark and damp, with some sections reeking and others odorless.
But what bothered him most was how circuitously complicated the path was. It felt like they had been walking for hours.
Jane seemed bothered by it too, tugging lightly at Oliver's clothes and whispering low.
"Is this really okay?"
"Pardon?"
"I said, is this really okay? We've gone so deep. We passed two secret passages already."
"Well? For now, there's no malice or hidden agenda."
"Still—"
"—No need to worry."
The silk-hatted beggar leading the way spoke up.
He had shed the somewhat frivolous demeanor from the T District streets and spoke calmly.
"I have no intention of harming you. Miss. No matter how much of a beggar I am, I wouldn't bite the hand that feeds."
Jane flushed with embarrassment and apologized.
"Ah... Sorry. I was just anxious."
"It's fine. That's what beggars are."
Oliver found it intriguing.
It hadn't been that long, but while staying with Cant's beggar gang, he had seen plenty of beggars. They were timid as expected of the street's weaklings.
Yet this beggar showed almost none of that.
There were only two kinds of beggars like this.
Ones confident in their own strength like Cant, or ones protected under someone like Cant.
"...Excuse me, sir."
"Sir? Haha... Just call me Silkhat. 'Sir' is too much."
"Got it. Then, Silkhat. Who is it that wants to see me? You said that person was waiting earlier."
The beggar named Silkhat pressed his lips together thoughtfully.
"...It'd be better to meet them in person than hear it from me. We're almost there, so please wait a moment."
He was right.
Slipping through a narrow side path in the final tunnel revealed a beggar den.
A small crack in the ceiling let in sunlight, illuminating the interior, where countless beggars gathered below.
It was no exaggeration to call it an underground village. They all lived in tents or shanties.
"This... is impressive."
Jane said.
Oliver agreed.
Not only was the scale large, but the members were diverse—women, children, elderly—and the atmosphere seemed decent.
At least, it didn't feel like the strong exploiting the weak.
It was rare to see such a beggar gang. Oliver had stayed in a similar place in the past.
"I'm back. We have guests today."
Silkhat said in front of the largest tent at the deepest part of the beggar den.
Rustling came from inside the tent, and someone emerged.
He wore a beanie, a shabby long coat, limped on one leg, and carried a relatively new quarterstaff.
"Cant?"
Oliver blurted out unwittingly.
Jane asked in surprise.
"You know him?"
An awkward situation. As Oliver hesitated, Cant smoothly interjected.
"That's right, miss. I once received a great favor from the black magician here. I'm Cant, head of the 'Poor Brothers.' It's an honor to meet you."
"Ah..."
Jane was flustered by Cant's polished greeting but quickly regained her composure, dipping into a slight curtsy.
"Thank you for the warm welcome, Cant. I'm Jane."
"Pleased to meet you, Jane. It's an honor to host such a noble guest in our humble abode. We don't have much to offer, but please make yourself at home. And if it's alright, may I have a moment alone with the black magician?"
"Oh... Of course that's fine with me, but you should ask Dave—"
"—Did you... make this place?"
Oliver asked, looking around the vast beggar den.
The beggars clustered in groups, boiling a stew in a large pot. Children played or gathered around adults to learn letters.
"...Is this your new beggar gang, Sir Cant?"
"Our beggar gang. Mine and everyone living here."
Jane frowned at the cryptic exchange, glancing between Oliver and Cant. In that moment, she witnessed something astonishing.
"Ha... Ha, ha."
For a brief instant, Oliver wore something like a smile.
"Oh my?"
"Huh...!"
Jane and Cant were equally shocked. So were the others.
It was a strange, hard-to-describe phenomenon, but all eyes focused on Oliver's smile-like expression.
As if they had beheld a miracle.
The person himself seemed oblivious.
"Good to see you again, Sir Cant."
"Likewise, black magician."
After excusing himself to Jane, Oliver entered Cant's tent.
He was curious what might be inside such a large tent compared to the others, but it was sparse.
Just a sleeping bag, a low desk for sitting, a few hanging clothes.
The most valuable-looking item was a worn magic stone lamp.
"Pretty empty, huh?"
Cant asked while clearing a spot to sit.
"Not really? It's tidy."
"That's like you."
"It does feel spacious."
"You'll understand. They said a big tent gives off more dignity. As you see, there are a lot of us."
"I see. But... how did this happen?"
Oliver asked as he sat. The "seat" was just bare floor lined with newspaper.
"What do you mean?"
"All of this."
Cant chuckled softly.
"Thanks to you."
"Me?"
"Yeah. The money you gave was a huge amount."
Oliver recalled. The safe he found after killing the puppeteer Glyph.
He had taken it with the glutton pouch and handed it straight to Cant. It was several hundred million ran, he thought. Quite a sum in hindsight.
No regrets, though. It had led to something interesting.
"I agonized over what to do with your money... and decided to merge with the W District beggar gang on that basis."
"Hmm... Why merge?"
"After the Mole incident, I realized we needed to get stronger for true safety. No guarantee another Mole won't show up... Don't misunderstand. I didn't use violence like Mole to force it."
"I won't. And even if you did, you don't need to explain to me. I gave you that money just to see what you'd do."
Oliver meant it. Whatever Cant did with it, Oliver wouldn't get mad. It would be interesting either way.
"...I see. That's you alright. How have you been?"
After some thought, Oliver replied.
"Me? Hmm... Pretty good, I think."
"And Forest?"
"Yeah, seems so. Oh... But how did you recognize me? As you can see, I'm wearing this."
Oliver tugged at his leather mask.
"Not hard. Forest doesn't take just anyone, so new fixers he deals with are few. Comparing the timing of your departure makes it easy to guess. Didn't expect the name Dave, though."
"Ah... Sorry if using your son's name upset you. It just popped into my head."
"Not upset. Really."
Cant smiled as he said it. He seemed pleased, though Oliver couldn't fathom why.
"...Anyway, the beggar gang is really big."
"Luck was on our side. After Mole, other beggars wanted a new group to protect them. Something bigger than a beggar gang."
"Is that the Poor Brothers?"
"Yes. Your money made convincing other gangs easier."
"Even with a lot of money, it's finite. Not easy, right?"
"So we expanded the business too."
"Business?"
"Yeah. Delivering packages or letters for gangs or merchants, rummaging all back-alley trash for more info than before and selling it dear. Scouting too."
"What's scouting?"
"Gathering rumors from restaurants, bars, social clubs. Lots of juicy, careless talk there."
"Sorry, not getting it. How can the Poor Brothers do that?"
"We find able-bodied, willing folks, clean them up, buy clothes, get them rooms, then jobs at target spots like restaurants or bars. They bring us what they hear."
"Ah..."
"Thanks to that, our info's more varied and valuable. We even have regular clients now, steady income. Proof: your money hasn't dwindled—it's grown."
Cant said proudly.
"Don't worry. Profits go in a communal vault, taken out only in front of everyone. Builds trust."
"Impressive. But is settling in the sewers okay? You said it was dangerous before."
"No worries. It's safe. We've checked multiple times. Plus, our leadership's not twenty or so—hundreds. Hard to touch us. We have weapons just in case, connections too. No sudden disasters... But tell me about you. Heard you were being chased. What happened? That girl seems from a fine family."
Oliver pondered whether to share.
Strictly speaking, no. But things had veered far from plan.
He might need Cant's help worst-case.
After agonizing, Oliver gave a rough explanation.
"Heh... Dirty business with too many variables."
"Forest said the same. Didn't expect this."
"Big trouble."
"Same here."
"No, I mean... Not certain, but they might brand you a traitor."
"Me? Why?"
"Because black magician."
"Frame me just for that?"
"Yeah. Kinda like a game to pin everything on black magicians. Why cities tolerate them roaming—future punching bags."
"Not great for me."
"True. But they won't want a big fuss, so no cops. Can't control that variable."
"Then?"
"Probably kill you and the girl, frame it as your doing. Forest and your referrer take the heat."
"Ah, then I need to get the girl to safety ASAP."
"Safety? Where?"
"Yeah, she said Sisterhood could help. Not thrilled about it, though."
Cant pondered, then spoke.
"I think I know why she's reluctant."
"Really?"
"Not exactly. Heard from newcomers here... How much do you know about the Sisterhood?"
"Just that it's women helping each other."
"Not wrong. They do mutual aid. But not all."
"Oh?"
"City's complicated, people too. Even women exploit weaknesses. That's why they invest in bastards."
"Invest?"
"Literal. Politicians, capitalists have many illegitimate kids. Some lack proper heirs, others blackmail material. They take those, raise them. For later use."
Oh... Oliver was mildly shocked. Beyond common sense.
"But don't mothers raise bastards?"
"Surprisingly cheap. Few million ran."
"Ah..."
"Sisterhood educates them well. Need smarts to be useful. If not, still workers for the group."
Oliver thought of Coco, the angel house staff, Elizabeth.
Not coincidence they gave off similar vibes.
"...And if they fulfill the purpose?"
"Help claim inheritance, repay with portion—like investment. Debt concept. Asking more help piles debt, tightens leash. That's why she's against it."
Oliver finally understood Jane's discomfort.
No choice in worst case, but reluctance made sense.
Oliver pondered his options.
Minimal effort, or go harder?
"........."
"You okay?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah... Cant, better work hard, right?"
"Probably? Exceed pay for bigger jobs next. Why? You seem uneasy."
Oliver didn't answer, lost in thought again.
"Well... She's taught me this and that."
"Sorry, what? Not following."
"Nothing. Anyway, can you do me a favor? I can pay."
"What?"
Cant asked warily, and Oliver replied.
A moment later, Cant spoke.
"You're insane."