The Sleepless City
"—And so, as you instructed, we have agreed to cooperate with the Goldman Trading Company on the development of the mines in the northern range."
"They'll break ground before long, then. Well done."
"Thank you."
It had been roughly half a day since I'd taken my leave of Eustia and arrived in the capital. I was receiving Lucy's report on the territory's affairs with the plush give of her thighs cushioning the back of my head.
...How long does she intend to keep this up?
Three hours already. She had started the lap pillow the instant we set foot in the mansion. Was this her idea of making up, in bulk, for the days we hadn't seen each other?
Growing genuinely concerned about her circulation, I finally opened my mouth.
"More to the point, Lucy. Are your legs going numb?"
"I am quite all right."
"Hmm."
She answered as though it were nothing at all. I rolled from my side onto my back, meaning to read her expression—
I can't see her face.
The enormous milk tanks blotting out my field of vision made Lucy's face completely invisible.
Well, so be it. I turned onto my side again and pressed my cheek to her snow-white, soft, plump thigh. I'd heard that the more female hormones a woman produced, the more readily fat cells settled into her thighs and hips.
Ah. So this was it. This was feminine allure. There even seemed to be a sweet fragrance rising off her skin. I had the distinct feeling I could stay like this forever.
No. Absolutely not.
I gave my own cheek a light slap and snapped myself out of it. This was the time to move for Liliana's sake. Summoning a frankly superhuman effort of will, I sat up.
"...I should get up. There's somewhere I need to be."
"Where will you be going?"
"The Sleepless City."
Beneath Trieste, the imperial capital. The place into which every filthy desire and every coin in this world eventually drained. The city whose lights never went out, even after nightfall—Orbit.
I intended to find Lüdenburger there and settle the matter at hand. I slipped on my coat with unhurried composure and took my leave of Lucy.
"I'll be away for a few days. I leave the territory's affairs in your hands until I return."
"...Understood."
The same emotionally stripped, matter-of-fact reply as always. And yet I could sense the faintest shift beneath it.
Was I imagining that?
For a fleeting instant, something like regret seemed to cross Lucy's face. An expression I had never seen on her before. I found myself hesitating over what to do.
Lucy was my person. A woman I was grateful for—someone who had been a source of strength ever since I had been dropped into this world without warning. I did not want to become so absorbed in everything else that I neglected her.
The hesitation lasted only a moment. I stepped closer and set my hand atop her head.
"Come to think of it, I never rewarded you for handling the territory's work so well. If you wait patiently until I finish my business and return, I'll grant you one thing you desire. How does that sound?"
"Something... I desire?"
"That's right. If nothing comes to mind, give it some thought."
For a woman who had spent her entire life wanting nothing at all, it was probably a difficult question. A tiny furrow of contemplation settled onto her doll-like face.
I couldn't help a quiet chuckle. It was so endearing that a gentle curve found its way to my lips. Having left Lucy with a dilemma she had never faced in her life, I headed out of the mansion.
The Sleepless City. Orbit. A place where the abandoned and the pleasure-seekers alike came flocking. There were any number of ways to get there—the back alleys along the city's outskirts, the filthy sewers, the garbage dumps. None of them made for a pleasant walk, but that very barrier of entry served as the boundary dividing the capital's light from its shadow.
Drugs, human trafficking, slave auctions—none of it was the sort of thing an ordinary citizen had any business approaching. And so a great many of those who drained down into Orbit extinguished their own light and mixed themselves in through those squalid passages. Those who styled themselves noble, however, used a different road.
"This should be the place."
Dusk had settled dimly over the streets by the time I came to a stop before one of the capital's high-end clothing boutiques. A clear bell chimed as I opened the door, announcing my entrance to the counter in my stead. Before long, a middle-aged gentleman with a splendid mustache emerged to receive me, his manner impeccably deferential.
"Welcome. I do apologize to so distinguished a guest, but we are about to close. Might I ask what business brings you here?"
"I'd like to buy a mask."
"...A mask, you say?"
"That's right. Something suitable for a night stroll."
The passphrase for entry into the Sleepless City. The gentleman's eyes narrowed to sharp slits the moment he heard it.
"Very well. This way, if you please."
He began guiding me behind the counter, and together we walked a passage where the dark lay thick as velvet. By no stretch of the imagination did it look like an ordinary corridor. After a short stretch of leading the way, the gentleman stopped at a particular point, set his hand to the wall, and pressed his palm against a protruding section of the masonry.
A heavy grinding rumble answered him. The floor shifted, then parted, revealing a stairway that plunged into the earth.
So this is where they hid it.
A secret route, reserved for the nobles who came seeking Orbit to vent their desires. I glanced down. The descent looked long enough that it would take a fair while on foot.
"It is an honor to receive one so distinguished. I do hope you have a pleasant evening."
The gentleman delivered the line mechanically as I stood with my hands clasped behind my back, surveying the stairs. He neither asked nor pressed as to why I had come. I gave him a brief nod of thanks for that thoroughly professional attitude, then set my foot to the first step.
Each unhurried footfall rang out with a hollow, mineral click. A stairway leading down into the city's shadow. For a path that emptied into a place stuffed with every kind of filth, the lighting overhead was remarkably elegant, casting a soft, refined glow as I went.
After a long descent, I stepped into a quaint, old-fashioned chamber appointed like a dressing room.
"Quite the collection."
Masks of every conceivable design hung along the walls. Apparently even a noble couldn't very well stroll around a place like this with his face out in the open. I drifted along the row at a leisurely pace, then took down a male lion's mask hanging off to one side.
...A bit conspicuous, perhaps.
Then again, none of the others had any style worth speaking of. I'd considered a plain white mask, but that would have felt like I was copying my subordinate Laplace. In the end I pulled the lion's mask over my face, passed through the dressing room, and opened the door at the far end.
The hinges gave a long creak.
Well now.
A city that never slept, even at night—standing in it, I had to admit the description was exact. A pleasure-laced scent assaulted the senses, tangled up in an air of sheer lawlessness. People who had become little more than trash rolled across the ground. When I cast my gaze farther out, a street like a city of unsleeping lights revealed itself, lined with row upon row of reddish lanterns.
"Heh heh. Adela. How about three silver for tonight?"
"Are you insane? It'll cost you five."
"Cut me a deal, just this once. I helped you out, remember?"
"Hmph. If you haven't got the coin, go find yourself some cheap hole somewhere else."
"Why you little—I've had just about enough of you!"
"Kyaa!"
I was strolling the street at an easy pace, hands clasped behind my back, when a prostitute's sharp scream and a drunkard's bellow rose up to greet me.
Lively enough.
A racket that itched at the ears. Farther down, people were buying and selling things that did not look like ordinary goods. It was a disorderly scene, and yet it stirred a feeling entirely different from walking the streets of the Imperial Academy. Looking upon one of the novel's own backdrops firsthand, I found my interest climbing.
I was taking in the pleasure-soaked street like a tourist when someone clipped my shoulder hard on the way past.
"Aaah? The hell are you?"
A slouching, insolent voice that still carried a trace of boyhood. He gave off a strange smell, as if he were high on something. And—
He's wearing a mask.
A scion of some noble house, by the look of him. The fact that he would pull this even though I was masked myself suggested he was the young master of a fairly prominent family. I had no idea which house's wastrel he was, but there was a chance it was one I knew, so curiosity got the better of me.
"And what are you, then?"
"Wh—what? Bwahahaha!"
He threw his head back and laughed as though he couldn't believe his ears. A moment later his face twisted so violently I could read it even through the mask.
"You've lost your damn mind. You bump into me and then try to play word games?"
"..."
"I don't know what house you're from, but I happened to take something good today—so I'll discipline you myself!"
He swung his right arm in a sudden, whistling arc. Even an elite from a renowned knight order would have felt the gulf in class. This one's level was so wretched he couldn't even register enough fear to hesitate.
What a nuisance.
I was not particularly fond of nuisances. I let out a short breath, caught the incoming wrist as it came, and cracked my palm across his cheek.
A bright, ringing slap exploded through the street. There was an ugly crack as his neck snapped around, but I had held back enough that he wouldn't die.
...He wouldn't, right?
"What's this? A fight?"
"They're both wearing masks. Some noble young masters picking a quarrel, by the look of it."
"I don't need any stray sparks landing on me. Let's move along."
A small stir went through the passersby. They glanced over, lost interest almost at once, and scattered. I nudged the head of the boy sprawled face-down on the ground—his mask smashed to pieces—with the toe of my shoe.
"You asleep?"
"......"
"Come on. Sleep here and that mouth of yours is going to get put to work."
I seized the unresponsive boy's ankle and started walking toward my destination. Along the way I glanced back at his face and found he looked remarkably like Lucius, the knight who had once served as Eustia's guard.
His younger brother, then. So that was why he'd been swaggering—he had the Second Prince at his back. I offered a silent eulogy to that disaster of a household, whose brothers were a blight as a matched set, and in the meantime arrived at a building so gaudy it stood out even on a street that never went dark.
This should be the place.
A castle of a building, dressed in hundreds of reddish lights. A dozen armed men at the least were posted outside, and from within, prostitutes spilled allure into the night, beckoning to anyone who looked. I was gazing up at it when—
"You've arrived!"
Someone burst through the doors. A giant of a man with an eyepatch over one eye, an aura so ominous it set the teeth on edge rolling off his entire body. One of the three great bosses who ruled Orbit. Lüdenburger came running with a face full of joy and dropped to his knees before me, right there in front of everyone.