Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 226
Chapter Title: Q&A (2)
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Forrest brought Oliver and Ewan to Angel's House.
It was Oliver's fifth visit.
The first had been to take Edith's commission, and visits two through five were to learn makeup techniques from Coco.
Well, beyond makeup, he'd also picked up how to brew coffee, how to dress properly, and ways to compliment women...
'Though I'm not sure I really learned any of it properly.'
As he pushed open the red front door and stepped inside, the opulent interior welcomed its guests.
Fortunately, Ewan seemed pleased, wagging a finger and letting out an exclamation.
"Mamma mia...! I like it."
"Glad it meets your approval. Shall we head in?"
As they ventured deeper, young women in daring outfits appeared to greet Oliver warmly.
"Oh, Dave?"
"Nice to see you. What brings you here?"
"Here for Coco?"
"You've been a stranger lately."
These weren't the polite smiles reserved for customers—they were genuine welcomes, and Oliver returned each one sincerely, just as always. It was only proper.
Ewan eyed Oliver with a jealous expression, while Forrest stared at him, pupils trembling.
"...Dave?"
"Yes, nice to see you, Mary... Hm? What's wrong, Forrest?"
Forrest still seemed unable to process it, his pupils shaking as he stared at Oliver. He hadn't reacted this way even during the earlier ambush.
"Hmm... Do you come here often?"
"Yes... I've visited a few times. This makes six?"
"Oh, Lord have mercy..."
Forrest muttered whenever he was struck by an indescribable shock.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, not wrong, but... how to put it. It's like witnessing the death of the world's last innocence. Fixers frequent places like this, sure, but you... Lord."
"You look pretty shocked."
A calm voice, soothing like it could settle the soul. Turning, Oliver spotted Elizabeth, the owner of Angel's House and the mama herself.
With hair as white and pure as clouds, Elizabeth exuded serene, intellectual charm despite her advanced years.
"Elizabeth."
"Forrest."
They knew each other, addressing one another by name without surprise. Randa was vast, yet narrow in its own way—especially the underworld.
"I heard the rumors recently. You pulled off a big one? Congratulations. A capable man always hits his prime."
"No, just got lucky."
Forrest spoke humbly, and he meant it. He chalked up his success purely to fortune.
"In this city, luck counts as a skill. It doesn't just come knocking."
"Kind words."
"No trouble at all. Thanks again for gracing us. Not here for a celebration party, I take it—what brings you?"
Elizabeth glanced at Oliver and Ewan as she asked. Though she didn't know the details, a woman's intuition and her experience in this trade told her it wasn't a routine visit.
"Came on short notice to treat a guest who saved my life... Got a room available?"
"Ah... Of course. Shall I send some girls too?"
"That'd be appreciated."
True to form as the boss, Elizabeth clapped her hands sharply, signaling the staff.
One server guided Oliver's group with a professional smile, leading them to a room.
It featured antique furnishings, with sofas arranged in a U-shape.
"You seem friendly with the girls here. Regular?"
Ewan asked as he sat, propping his legs on the table.
Oliver took a seat on the sofa behind Forrest and replied.
"Regular?"
"What else explains getting chummy with brothel staff? Some sucker throwing money at them. Now I'm curious about you too. Spill it—how'd you get on their good side? Share the secrets!"
Ewan clenched a fist emphatically. Surprisingly, Forrest feigned disinterest but clearly perked up.
"Er... Not that close. I just came by to learn makeup, got familiar that way. Helped out with a ruckus once or twice."
"Ruckus?"
Forrest asked.
"Yeah, convinced rowdy customers to calm down, Jo-style... They all settled right down."
Ewan cut in.
"Why learn makeup?"
"To doll up corpse puppets like real people. Expands their uses... Plus, I wanted to learn anyway."
"Hahaha... Just like the letter said, you've got a unique personality. These days, black mages chase quick and easy paths."
"From the way you talk, you must be quite seasoned."
Forrest slipped in naturally.
"Truth be told, I'm no spring chicken. Look young for my age, though... Not that you're after my age. Ask what you want—I'll answer some as thanks for the fine spot."
Forrest didn't refuse.
"You seem acquainted with the Development Opposition Committee. How do you know them?"
Forrest asked earnestly. Even brokers handling plenty of info in Randa knew little solid about the committee.
"Oh, we trade here and there."
"Trade?"
"They want my tools, and I want something from them."
Ewan's tone was breezy, but Forrest grew serious.
Trading with the Development Opposition Committee meant this black mage was no ordinary fellow.
The committee was shrouded in mystery, ferocious, and even the city had given up eradicating them. Rumors swirled endlessly too.
Ordinary folk couldn't even converse with them, let alone trade.
As Forrest geared up for another question, the door opened perfectly timed, and staff entered.
Regular servers set drinks and food on the table, while escorts—one each—sat beside Forrest, Oliver, and Ewan.
Though Oliver had visited Angel's House multiple times and knew its nature, this was his first time actually using it, leaving him feeling awkward.
Forrest kept a natural distance from his companion, accustomed to it all. Ewan wasted no time cozying up to his, more eagerly than anyone.
He didn't seem the type women adored, but he clearly liked them. Though his attention wasn't fully diverted.
"My turn to ask?"
Ewan said to Forrest, eyes fixed on his escort.
"About what?"
"Got me wondering out of nowhere—how'd you and Dave meet? City's huge, brokers everywhere like sand... Doesn't feel coincidental. How?"
Sharp. It was a minor point one might gloss over, but the origin of Forrest and Oliver teaming up was no accident.
"...Introduced."
"Introduced?"
"Yeah, an old colleague handed him a letter of intro and sent him my way."
"Oho...! Lucky break. Old buddy hooks you up with a golden boy like this."
"Feeling it lately."
Forrest's hand stiffened awkwardly, emotions flickering—gratitude, guilt, regret mingling briefly.
Ewan didn't miss it.
"What's the friend's name?"
"Pardon?"
"The friend's name? The bluebird who brought you fortune. Tell me, and I'll be nicer with answers."
Forrest hesitated, then answered.
"...Cantara."
"Oh, Cantara... Interesting. Heard the head of Randa's biggest beggar gang is named Cantara too."
Oliver flinched. Forrest did too.
Oliver asked.
"Where'd you hear that?"
"Told you, I know things. Mostly rumors, but impressive—he built a massive beggar outfit to help other beggars? Wild tale. Beggars helping beggars. Makes you think this ain't Sodom or Gomorrah."
Ewan bellowed with laughter.
"So, what split you two?"
"Pardon?"
"Your pal Cantara who introduced the kid. Must be a reason you parted."
Ewan's casual probe hit a raw nerve, unsettling even the seasoned Forrest.
Some bad memory? Forrest's emotions churned.
Honestly, Oliver was curious too. Nearly a year since meeting Cant and Forrest, yet he knew nothing beyond them being former colleagues.
"Bit personal."
"Ooh, even better. Nothing more fun than digging into someone's private dirt. Wife's affair, kid not yours... Spill."
Ewan munched a snack, demanding bluntly. Forrest's feelings be damned.
Forrest bristled at the brazenness but held back—Ewan was Oliver's guest.
Ewan knew it, rinsing his mouth with liquor and puffing a cigar he'd snuck from the limo.
"No answer, no answers from me."
"Is that so?"
"Obviously. Unfair if I do all the talking. You'd rob the kid of hearing my answers."
Ewan teased, pointing at Oliver. Forrest shot Oliver a poker-faced look, sipped his drink with visible unease.
Normally, Forrest would navigate this, but the question stung, and the asker was rotten. Demanding answers regardless of stakes.
Seemed deliberate.
"You're curious too, right? How your broker and intro guy split. Dodging like this screams drama."
True enough. Oliver hadn't pried, but he wanted to know how Forrest and Cant parted.
Cant trusted Forrest enough to send Oliver, yet Cant's fall from fixer to beggar felt mismatched.
Might not hurt to hear it now... But seeing Forrest's distress, Oliver backed off.
Such tales needed to come willingly.
"Ewan."
"Ah, feels like it'll be boring anyway."
"Sorry, but could you drop that question?"
"Why? Not curious?"
"Honestly, I am. But these stories should be told when one wants to tell them."
"Why?"
"That's when they're most true."
"Ooh, sounds scriptural. Most true... But ain't that unfair? You drag me here for your questions, then tell me to hold mine. Pretty bold."
Oliver nearly said it was private, but stopped. It wouldn't matter to Ewan. Besides, Oliver had that streak too.
As Oliver pondered his reply, the escort beside him whispered low. She'd once been hassled by a customer; Oliver had helped.
Whisper whisper.
Oliver glanced; she nodded, urging trust.
"If kind-hearted Ewan could graciously understand."
"...Heh, think sweet talk sways me? Close, but no."
"If you do, the staff say they'll ask Mama for house-wide special service."
Ewan paused.
"...Fuck, fine. Handsome, big-hearted me yields. But not for free."
"Then...?"
"Planned to answer most anyway. Helping my disciple's friend, polite kid... Not easy for me to warm up."
Sincere.
"But feelings hurt, so one question only. One. Take it or leave."
Unilateral. Forrest eyed Oliver, signaling he'd answer, but Oliver waved it off.
He wanted to hear, but only when Forrest chose to tell.
"Understood. One question then."
"Sure? My answers ain't easy—wanderlust and debts mean I could bolt anytime."
"Then I'll track you down."
Ewan was momentarily speechless.
"...Chills. A man chasing me. Shoot—what's on your mind? Magic items like in the letter? Or the committee?"
Oliver spoke without hesitation.
"Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. The clock moves... Know anything about that?"