The Distribution Network
Bagan and his companions had barely stepped out of Gruon’s office before they began combing through the city’s entertainment bars. They really should have visited the downtown area first to secure an inn, but having stayed at De Pruna Fortress, this was the first time in two days they had set foot in the city proper.
The place carried the same desolate atmosphere he had sensed when arriving on wyvern-back. Whether it was the ring of mountains hemming it in or something else entirely, the air felt stifling. The people’s faces seemed drained of life. It might have been nothing more than his own impression, but to Bagan that was exactly how it looked.
Finding the entertainment bars in the downtown district was not difficult.
“Doing business in broad daylight, bold as brass.”
It was still before lunchtime, yet the establishments had people practically wagging their tails at the entrances, urging passersby to come in for a drink. The advertising must have been effective; several men lost their heads and were dragged inside. That was how stunning the beautiful women working the front were.
Yet none of them looked particularly attractive in Bagan’s eyes. With Sally and Arien beside him, who could possibly compare?
“Still, we have to investigate.”
Though reluctant, Bagan moved toward the nearest bar.
The interior was dim. A few weak lights barely held the darkness at bay. The décor seemed deliberately chosen to craft a particular mood. Surprisingly, it wasn’t noisy. A normal tavern would be filled with drunkards shouting until your ears rang, but this place was different. True to its name as an entertainment bar, patrons sat at tables with drinks, chatting with women or sharing glasses, each enjoying the atmosphere in their own way. There were a few loud voices now and then, but compared to ordinary bars it was positively civilized.
Taking all this in, Bagan walked deeper inside and sat at the bar counter. He could have observed from a table, but speaking directly with the staff would yield faster results.
“Welcome. Is there a particular drink or companion you desire at our Blazing Dance?”
“Skip it. You the owner?”
Bagan’s blunt tone made the man’s eyebrows rise, but he paid it no mind. The bartender still valued customers enough to answer.
“Yes, I am. I own the place and tend the bar.”
Thud. He set down the glass he had finished polishing. There was a clear trace of irritation in the motion.
“Is there something you’re looking for?”
He asked the question point-blank. Bagan’s probing had evidently rubbed him the wrong way.
“Seeing as you arrived with such lovely ladies, I assume you’re not here for a companion. What sort of drink would you like?”
The bartender had glanced at Sally and Arien on either side of Bagan. Their beauty was undeniable, so the assumption made sense. Bagan agreed; there was no need to indulge in the bar’s other offerings simply because they were there.
Yet something about the man’s gaze felt off.
“Those eyes of yours are filthy. Clean them up or I’ll gouge them out.”
“Oh dear, have I offended you?”
The man tried to laugh it off, but Bagan’s patience was already thin. He had never cared for the atmosphere of places like this.
“What kinds of drinks do you serve?”
Wanting to finish quickly, Bagan cut straight to the point.
“Finally, a normal question.”
The bartender seemed relieved and answered diligently.
“We offer a wide variety of beers. By adjusting the grains or brewing methods, we create different flavors and aromas. Naturally, our customers have their preferences. Any beer can be enjoyable, but everyone has their own taste. Much like choosing a woman.”
“Want me to rip that mouth off so you stop saying garbage like that?”
The bartender, scolded for the unnecessary remark, looked sullen and tried to continue. But an interrupter stopped him.
“Hey, Edan! Been a while. Are these ladies new stock? How have other shops not snatched them up yet?”
The bartender’s name appeared to be Edan. But Bagan focused on something else entirely. The urge to tear the mouth off the man who had just called Sally and Arien “stock” was nearly overwhelming.
“Ah, Darian. These people are customers. You shouldn’t say things like—”
Crash!
Bagan shot to his feet, violently enough to knock the chair over.
Thud!
“Cough—hack!”
He seized Darian by the throat and lifted him one-handed.
“Who the hell are you?”
Still holding the man, Bagan strode to the wall and slammed him against it.
Crunch!
“Ugh!”
Every eye in the bar turned toward them.
“What are you staring at? Enjoying the show? You’ve all been sneaking glances at them since we walked in. Got a death wish?”
There was no way Bagan could have missed those gazes. He was used to drawing attention, but the lecherous quality of these stares was intolerable. Treating Sally and Arien like merchandise was completely unforgivable. For a moment he looked ready to commit murder.
“Bagan, if you do not release him within five seconds he will suffer cardiac arrest from lack of oxygen to the brain.”
At Arien’s calm analysis, Bagan dropped the man.
“Count yourself lucky.”
Darian slumped against the wall, coughing as though trying to retch. Bagan didn’t spare him another glance. He returned to the bar and spoke to Edan again.
“Where were we?”
“W-we… we were at the beers.”
In a violent situation, a violent approach was only courteous.
“Good. Continue.”
Bagan and his party finished their business and left Edan’s Blazing Dance. Whether it was disappointing or fortunate, there had been no Hwanju in the establishment. Edan claimed he had never even heard of it. They suspected him at first, but Sally confirmed he was telling the truth, so they had no choice but to drop their doubts.
“If we check every place one by one like this, we’ll never finish.”
They had already spent nearly an hour at Edan’s alone. The real problem was that entertainment bars seemed to occupy the entire street. Not a single shop selling monster byproducts or ordinary restaurants could be seen. The whole district felt like it had been deliberately turned into an entertainment quarter.
“Is there no better way?”
That was when Arien spoke.
“Bagan, Arien possesses prior information on the herb called Epiteth. If Hwanju is brewed from that flower, Arien can distinguish it by scent alone.”
“Then—!”
“Arien will generate clones to locate any warehouses concealing Hwanju.”
This solution meant they no longer needed to enter every bar. Simply patrolling the areas around warehouses would reveal which establishments held the drug. Once they had evidence, interrogation would secure solid results.
“Perfect. I’m counting on you.”
Arien used her Queen Slime abilities to create dozens of clones. Making them all identical might startle onlookers, so she gave each a different appearance. Strangely, many of the forms seemed to be characters from books.
“Isn’t that the mentor character from the original novel Arien read?”
The old woman form she had taken matched the book’s description perfectly.
“It does appear so.”
“Correct. It is Arien’s mentor.”
She had already finished creating them all. The main body slipped into Sally’s arms.
“She’s even acting out her own role-play.”
Bagan could only shake his head in amazement at her abilities.
After sending the clones to scout the warehouses, Bagan and the others began walking the streets.
“While they work, let’s go eat.”
After spending so much time in the Blazing Dance, it was already lunchtime. The downside was that only entertainment bars were visible nearby. The upside was that they could wander the city in search of a proper restaurant.
In the end, they left the entertainment district and found the genuine city center.
The central district was not far. After leaving the entertainment area, a few residential houses appeared, and a short walk toward the visible silhouette of De Pruna Fortress brought them to a lively main street.
“I thought the city was rather quiet, but this place is completely different.”
The merchants here had loud voices and overflowing energy. Bagan’s earlier impression of De Pruna as a gloomy city began to shift.
“How about there?”
Bagan pointed at a decent-looking restaurant. Sally and Arien nodded their approval. In truth they were fine with anything, but Bagan made a point of asking so he wouldn’t simply choose dishes he alone enjoyed.
“Traditional De Pruna cuisine. I’m looking forward to this.”
The restaurant specialized in local fare. It was the same type of establishment he had visited in the previous two cities, so he felt familiar with the routine. They entered and took a table.
Before they had even sat for a few seconds, an aproned server approached to take their order. It was not a high-class restaurant, yet the operation seemed efficiently organized.
“What would you like today?”
The server asked with a bright smile.
“What are your best-selling traditional dishes?”
“Ah, the top items: Frugetta and Ganchuli.”
“Then three portions of each.”
“Understood!”
The server left still smiling. Ordering six dishes in total probably explained the cheer. It might have seemed like too much, but Bagan decided they would simply eat what they could and leave the rest. Better to have leftovers than to run short.
They waited, and soon the food arrived. Having not bothered to read the descriptions, he could only judge the dishes by sight.
The first, Frugetta, was a salad of various vegetables and grilled chicken. What set it apart from ordinary salads was the absurdly large amount of chicken. More meat was never a bad thing, so that was his only impression.
The second dish, Ganchuli, was an entire grilled tail served with a savory sauce. The problem was that the tail clearly did not belong to an ordinary animal.
It’s a crocodile tail.
Even without checking he could tell. The skin was still attached. It looked unappetizing at a glance, but after Arien—who had already taken a bite—spoke, his opinion changed.
“Bagan, this tail belongs to a monster called a Hippocroker. It is well-regarded for its flavor and is said to be excellent for vitality and stamina.”
She explained as though she had become a monster specialist overnight. Bagan himself was not unfamiliar with Hippocrokers. They were swamp-dwelling creatures with slippery, hippo-like bodies, crocodile mouths, and powerful tails. They appeared frequently in wetlands, were relatively easy to hunt, and were commonly used as cooking ingredients. Their lean meat had a distinctive flavor unlike pork and was considered a delicacy, making them prime targets for hunters.
“That explains it. Not many restaurants serve crocodile tails.”
Bagan tried a piece. The dish’s established reputation proved accurate; it was genuinely good. Watching the two women eat with obvious enjoyment made his own mouth water. Truthfully, he preferred the Frugetta over the Ganchuli.
After they finished eating and paid, they left the restaurant. Bagan turned to Arien with a curious look. Sensing his gaze, she answered at once.
“Arien has located them. Six locations in total.”
“Wow, that’s quite a few places to visit.”
With work ahead of them, Bagan’s expression grew serious as he headed back toward the entertainment district.
“Sally, your part is crucial from here. Plenty of these bastards get flustered and start lying.”
“Leave it to me.”
Though Bagan thought of her great power of condemnation as something like a lie detector, Sally was simply happy to be useful. More than the ability itself, she enjoyed traveling together with him.
Thus, Bagan and his party entered the first bar Arien had identified. It had a completely different atmosphere from Edan’s Blazing Dance. There was no bartender; the entire space was arranged with tables, and deeper inside lay a kitchen that appeared off-limits to anyone but staff.
“If they have something to hide, that makes sense.”
Bagan did not bother sitting. He walked straight toward the kitchen.
“Hey, owner!”
The man cooking there glared at the intruder and snapped.
“Have you no business ethics! This is the kitchen! Can’t you see? Hey, waiters! Why aren’t you stopping him? Do you think I pay you to stand around?”
He seemed the type to become furious when his work was interrupted. Anyone might react that way, but Bagan was equally merciless with such people.
“You can stop working now. We found Hwanju in your warehouse.”
Bagan shook the bottle Arien had secretly retrieved, taunting the owner.
“Crazy bastards—everyone run!”
The man abandoned even the dish he had been preparing and bolted. But there was no chance of escape. Bagan restrained the man’s body with mana.
“Urgh! What did you do to me?!”
“Talk. Where did you get this?”
Ice spears formed in the air around them. The threat was clear: refusal would mean death.
“W-we’re just distributors! The production site is separate!”
The cold spears hovering before his eyes made the man regard Bagan with involuntary respect.
“It’s the truth.”
As the dark side of De Pruna grew more interesting by the minute, the corner of Bagan’s mouth curved upward.
These bastards are pretty interesting.