The Strongest Baggage in History (3)
It wasn't a refreshing morning. The stench piercing his nostrils was to blame. No matter where they went, the rotten sewer smell wafted over them. No place to dump waste? Just toss it outside. That beast-like, one-dimensional mindset was the citizens' passive skill.
His master showed her displeasure too.
"How can it be this filthy... It wasn't like this before."
"It's really gross."
Here came Master's inevitable "Back in my day." Anyone else saying it would get labeled a boomer, but who was his master? None other than the genius who'd personally designed her mansion, complete with plumbing. He only realized it now, having grown accustomed over six years since his original modern life. Tia, my master, is a goddess!
"Child, what's wrong?"
"Oh, nothing. Let's get going."
As he showered her with gazes of respect as naturally as breathing, she tilted her head curiously.
Their destination was a money changer. They'd scraped by yesterday trading the trinkets she'd brought, but it was inefficient. Not knowing their value meant getting ripped off royally with no recourse. Change? Fat chance. They could even refuse the trade and kick him out, and he'd have nothing to say about it. Real currency was essential.
Ask if you don't know—that's the rule.
"Excuse me, do you happen to know where the money changers are?"
"Ehehehihi! This way! Come on over, hi-hi!"
A young man with a lot of laughter. At first, he'd thought it was genuine guidance. But as time passed, it got rougher. Deep, dark alleys. Thugs with weapons. Bandit scum. After some medieval physical therapy, retry. Result: squeak, more bandits, just plain scammers. After a few rounds, he grasped the truth. People seeking money changers? Treasure goblins! Outsiders needing exchange meant tourists with fat wallets and hard-to-verify identities. Perfect marks for fleecing.
"What should we do... Child, I'm sorry."
"No, no! Why are you apologizing, Master?"
Common sense often clashes with nonsense. Her vast knowledge, once reliable, was useless in this lawless city. She even apologized for not filtering them out beforehand. Seeing that ignited rage within him. Why should Master apologize? These societal dregs...!
Suddenly, an idea flashed.
"Ah! Master! I thought of a way to exchange currency!"
"Child, what is it?"
Can't find a money changer? Find someone who knows where one is.
"Indeed, clever as ever. This one was so fixated on the goal that her vision narrowed."
"Master, aren't your legs sore? Want me to carry you?"
"They're still fine. Your thoughtfulness warms me."
She smiled warmly. She even straightened his clothes for him.
After asking around, they headed to the information guild. He'd been burned multiple times already, so suspicion was high. They double-checked and cross-verified meticulously. Surprisingly, destinations aligned easily... as long as they didn't mention money? Pedestrians' trustworthiness jumped several levels. Lesson learned the hard way.
"Money first."
"Wait, we're here for exchange info! I'll pay after!"
"Money first."
The dreaded scenario unfolded.
"How about this instead?"
"Money."
Even bartering failed. As their plan crumbled, Master stepped up.
"An information merchant must have info to verify... My house has the means."
"...Your house meaning?"
Master just stared silently. No freebies. That's my master! Reliable! Awesome!
The informant flinched and clicked his tongue.
"In the end, the desperate one is..."
Then someone bellowed from behind the consultation booth.
A shout that rattled the walls, laced with desperation. As the guild member tried to continue,
He grimaced, scratching his head. Clearly overwhelmed inside. With no choice, he excused himself.
"Uh... mind waiting a moment?"
Flow broken—time to pitch.
"Need a translation expert? I might be able to help."
"Hmm... really? I peeked, and it's script I've never seen."
"I'm confident."
Nothing to lose.
"Sigh... follow me."
The guild member gestured them through the back door.
The information guild's central hall. A young client fumed angrily.
"You? You're in charge?"
"If you want a refund."
"Think I'm doing this for money?! My little sister's been kidnapped!!"
Family missing—excitement understandable. Time to step in.
"What needs translating? Let me see."
"Who are you... sir?"
His gaze slid to the sword at his waist, honorifics kicking in. Courtesy enforcer—works like a charm.
"Just recruited expert. Hand it over."
Suspicious look, but no options. He passed the leather notebook.
"Let's see."
...
"Hmm..."
Status window translation made it effortless. But the content... chills ran down his spine.
"You said your sister was kidnapped?"
"Yes! She vanished near that mansion while playing one day..."
He choked up.
"What's her name?"
"Lily, Lily."
He subtly showed the page to Master. She glanced and spoke, displeasure subtly leaking.
"Ancient script. Used in necromancy these days."
The guild member flinched. Back straightened, shoulders tensed.
"...?"
Couldn't even meet Master's gaze. The anxious client trembled.
"What... what's going on?!"
Master lowered her eyes, unable to voice it. He placed a hand on her shoulder and stepped forward, heavy-hearted.
"Your sister is almost certainly dead."
"Ah..."
He'd suspected. But the verdict from another's lips was cruel—a prod to accept reality, bitterly harsh.
He added the necessary detail.
"Probably eaten by the notebook's owner."
"Eh...?"
The dazed client collapsed to the floor.
"What... does that mean."
"I'll read it straight."
Deep breath, then he began.
Reading the translation aloud, the client staggered, then vomited on the floor.
"Urk... blegh..."
Followed by wailing.
"Aaaaaah!!! No!! Lily!! Liiiily!!"
Mournful noise filled the hall, louder than before. No one stopped him now.
"Sorry for not recognizing a former heretic inquisitor."
In a side room, the guild member bowed, offering tea and snacks. Treatment markedly improved.
Master inquired first.
"Never mentioned it. Why assume?"
"Black attire, ancient script knowledge... sword at hip. Seeking changers suggests fresh from abroad... and you said 'my house' earlier."
"Correct."
He gulped at her confirmation, voice politer.
"We swear no ties to heretics."
Sweating, flustered. Time for a quip.
"Think what you want."
No denial. Let them assume—it benefited them. He pressed.
"Tell me what you know?"
"Of course! Only the unvarnished truth!"
He dashed out, soon returning with stacks of parchment docs. Culprit's profile. The guild knew, just lacked hard proof.
He stared pointedly.
"...We! Budget limits...! Background checks... that was our best."
"Who said otherwise?"
"Sorry...!"
Nearly headbutted the desk apologizing. Not really their fault, morally.
Master munched snacks contentedly.
"We'll handle it, but can we come back for more later?"
"Absolutely! Visit anytime!"
Nearly 90-degree bow, desperate as if his fate hung on it.
"Good. And changer info? No payment now."
"Ah! I'll write a recommendation!"
Higher rank than expected—he penned and sealed a letter on the spot.
"And travel funds...!"
"No need. Pay fair if you insist."
Master nodded approvingly, patting his back. The guild member's face shifted wildly.
"Right...! Most righteous words."
Being treated well felt nice, but potential backlash loomed. He preempted.
"And we're not heretic inquisitors. Don't misunderstand."
"Of course!! We know! Secrecy is our lifeblood!"
He zipped his lips dramatically. Misunderstanding growing...
Same at the recommended changer. Tore the letter and groveled, generous rates. Amid his headache, Master's words.
"Child, good deeds bring blessings."
Her fearless, joyful smile made him laugh too.
...
Back on the street, stench returned. Trash-strewn roads... impossible to guess the rot's depth. Master stroked his head.
"Child, well done. Luck aided, but your handling was masterful."
"Oh... that good?"
He scratched his cheek at the praise.
"Even perfect timing demands confronting injustice. Do what's right boldly."
"Got it, Master."
"Child."
Her eyes burned with resolve. Unwavering from the start. His eternal beacon of respect and love. He'd follow Tia wherever. No matter what. He swore it.
She smiled back, then set a determined tone.
"May this one lure that wicked fiend?"
Wait... what? Out of nowhere?
"Huh? No way, Master."