Chapter 137: An Imperfect Date
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 137: An Imperfect Date
"You there! You broke my gemstone, and you think you can just walk away?"
"Hmm?"
Muen paused, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Old man, what exactly do you mean by that?"
"Look for yourself!"
The scabby-headed old man kept one hand clamped firmly around Muen’s ankle while holding up the gemstone with the other.
Under the sunlight, a clear, jagged crack was visible across the surface of the stone.
Yet, when Muen had been holding it just moments ago, it had been perfectly intact.
"You must have broken it when you were tossing it just now!" The old man’s face was a mask of indignant rage. "You have to pay!"
"It broke just from being tossed?" Muen looked at the man, somewhat stunned. "And how much exactly do you want me to pay?"
"I..." The old man’s eyes swept over Muen’s expensive attire, a glint of greed flickering in his gaze. "One hundred thousand! I want one hundred thousand!"
"One hundred thousand?" Muen raised an eyebrow.
That was an interesting number.
If that gemstone truly were a Tear of True Love, a hundred thousand Emiels wouldn't even buy the box it came in. But the stone was an obvious fake—and a poorly made one at that. For ten Emiels, one could buy a whole bucket of them at a wholesale market.
Which meant...
"Extortion?" Muen suddenly found the situation hilarious.
"What do you mean, extortion?!" the old man spat hatefully. "You broke my gemstone; you have to compensate me."
"And if I refuse?" Muen asked with a half-smile.
"If you refuse..." The old man’s shifty eyes darted around before he suddenly collapsed onto the ground, rolling back and forth. "Help! Someone, come look! This man broke my property and won't pay! Is there no justice? Is there no law? Are you really going to let him bully an honest old man like this?"
The street was already bustling, and the old man’s theatrics quickly drew a crowd. People began to gather, pointing and whispering at Muen and the old man.
Right then, a man in uniform pushed his way through the crowd.
"What’s going on here? Why is everyone crowding around?"
It was a patrol officer.
The officer, gripping his baton, scanned the scene. His eyes visibly brightened when they landed on Muen. He then turned to the old man and asked, "What happened?"
"Officer, sir! You have to help me!" Seeing the patrolman, the scabby-headed old man’s confidence surged. He scrambled up and pointed at Muen. "He broke my things! And he won't pay! He’s just taking advantage of a helpless old man with no one to turn to!"
"Is that so?" The officer stepped closer, tapping his baton against his palm as he looked Muen up and down. "Kid, if you damage someone else's property, you pay the price. That’s the way the world works. Surely you know that?"
"Of course I know that."
"Since you know, then pay up and be done with it. Don't block the road and waste everyone's time," the officer said impatiently. "Looking at your clothes, coughing up a hundred thousand Emiels shouldn't be much of a problem for you."
"Exactly, exactly! Pay the price, it's only fair!"
"Kid, you're not planning on being a deadbeat, are you?"
Following the officer's lead, several bystanders in the crowd began to hurl accusations at Muen.
In an instant, Muen was framed as a scoundrel who had broken a lonely old man’s precious gem and was now refusing to take responsibility.
However, when Muen glanced around, he noticed that the voices were coming from the same few people planted in the crowd.
"Oh my, Junior, it looks like you’ve run into a local specialty of the Belland Lower District," Senior Sister Anna remarked from the sidelines. She didn't look worried at all; instead, she wore a smile that suggested she was enjoying the show.
"A specialty?"
"It’s a collaborative extortion scheme between the officials, the crooks, and the 'commoners.' They usually pick targets who look wealthy, like you. Quite a few people fall for this every year. I thought this street might be a bit better, but it seems the Lower District is the same everywhere."
"They’re this brazen? Aren't they afraid of biting off more than they can chew?"
"This is the Lower District, Junior. A place filled with filth and stench that the high and mighty lords above wouldn't deign to glance at. There are no 'hard bones' here. Besides, people like this usually have gang backgrounds. They’ve already memorized the locals they can't afford to provoke, which is why they pick on obvious outsiders like you—fresh little lambs."
"Do I really look that easy to bully?" Muen scratched his head.
He was sporting the face of a "yellow-haired villain," so why did he keep running into these protagonist-style plot points?
"What nonsense are you babbling about?" The patrol officer’s face turned livid upon hearing Anna’s words. However, when his gaze swept over her pretty face and the seductive curves that even her dress couldn't fully hide, his eyes grew heated. He sneered, "You don't look like a good person either. I suspect you’ve stolen something and hidden it on your person. You’ll have to come back to the station with me for a thorough investigation."
Muen’s expression darkened instantly.
He took a step forward, blocking the officer’s view of Anna, and said in a low voice, "Now this is interesting. Can a mere patrol officer just arrest people on a whim without a shred of evidence?"
"What do you mean, no evidence? We have the victim and the physical proof right here!" The officer was arrogant, acting with the practiced ease of someone who had done this countless times.
Usually, a little intimidation was all it took to make people fall in line.
"Hah. It seems talking to you is just a waste of time." Muen sighed and pulled out a family crest engraved with a sword pattern. "Do you recognize this?"
"What’s that supposed to be?"
"You don't even recognize it? Then go find someone who does."
"Who do you think you are? Why should I listen to you?" The officer continued to sneer. You don't even have a pass from the Red Fire Gang, and you're trying to act like a big shot?
But in the next heartbeat, he saw a powerful fist the size of a mallet rapidly expanding in his vision.
"Why? Because of this!"
For a rare moment, an irrepressible rage flared in Muen’s eyes as he swung his fist with full force.
"I didn't want to resort to violence—I didn't want to look brutish in front of my Senior—but it seems this is the fastest way to handle things!"
The officer’s arrogant face distorted instantly under Muen’s fist. He was sent flying backward, crashing into the ground.
As the man lay there wailing, not yet fully unconscious, Muen added coldly, "And most importantly, your eyes are too filthy."
*
"Crap... we hit a wall this time."
On the other side, seeing the officer get leveled by a single punch, the scabby-headed old man’s face turned pale.
He tried to use the confusion of the crowd to crawl away and slip into an alley, but a white leather boot suddenly stomped down hard on his hand.
Anna held down her long skirt to prevent her "Sanctuary" from being peeked at, looking down at the terrified old man with a smile. "What’s wrong, old-timer? Don't you want your compensation anymore?"
*
Just as Muen had expected, once he directly "assaulted an officer," the pace of events accelerated.
First, a pot-bellied man arrived, cursing and surrounded by a group of subordinates. However, the moment he saw the family crest in Muen’s hand, his fury transformed into sheer terror. The fat on his body practically wobbled off from the shock.
Shortly after, a black carriage arrived at a speed that nearly sent its wheels flying. A middle-aged balding man with dark circles under his eyes as heavy as a panda's leaped from the carriage and practically scrambled on all fours to reach Muen.
"Young... Young Master Campbell."
The balding man wiped sweat from his forehead incessantly. "What brings you to the Lower District?"
"What? Am I not allowed to be here?" Muen glanced at the man. He had a vague memory of meeting him once before. "Viscount Guen, right? It seems your management of the Lower District is somewhat... lacking."
"My mistake, my mistake! I will fix it, I promise!" Viscount Guen bowed and scraped, his heart shattering into a million pieces.
Did I accidentally desecrate someone's ancestral grave recently?
First, a Count's son dies, bringing the Princess down here. Now, even the Duke's son is out for a stroll and just happens to run into this mess.
What was going on? Since when did the Lower District become a tourist attraction for you high-and-mighty elites?
You're going to make my already thinning hair go extinct!
"I have the full picture now. I will handle this properly and ensure Young Master Campbell receives a satisfactory resolution. Is there... anything else you require, Young Master?" Viscount Guen asked cautiously, mopping up his cold sweat.
"No. Just get out of my sight." Muen waved him off impatiently.
Guen looked as if he’d received a divine pardon. He quickly gathered his men, hauled away the patrolman and the old man, and fled the scene.
Peace soon returned to the street.
Muen turned to his waiting Senior, the gloom on his face vanishing instantly, replaced by a helpless, wry smile. "I feel like my good mood has been completely ruined."
"Really?" Anna tilted her head and smiled. "I thought you looked quite cool just now, Junior."
"I did?"
"Of course. Especially that line, 'Your eyes are too filthy.' You felt just like a prince out of a storybook."
"That’s an exaggeration."
"But it’s true."
"..."
Looking into Anna’s crescent-moon eyes, Muen’s heart couldn't help but skip a beat again.
"Shall we continue?"
"Mm, sure."
And so, the date resumed.
Muen consulted the Belland Dating Guide once more, trying to finalize their next destination.
However, while he was still debating whether to head left toward a highly-rated food street or right toward the riverbank where fireworks were rumored to be held that evening, Anna was distracted by something else.
"Junior, look. A cat."
On a stone bench by the roadside, a milky-white kitten was curled up, meowing pitifully.
"Do you like cats, Senior?" Muen asked instinctively.
He didn't need an answer; Anna was already walking toward it with light steps.
"Meow~"
"Meow meow..."
"Meow~"
"Meow meow meow..."
Anna mimicked the cat's cries as she carefully approached. She was very good at it, and the kitten’s wariness soon dissolved.
For a moment, in Muen’s eyes, Anna herself seemed to transform into a cat, lazily meowing under the sun.
"So cute..." Muen murmured under his breath.
"Right? This cat is so cute." Anna had successfully scooped the kitten into her arms. She was gently scratching its chin, and the kitten responded with a comfortable purr.
"It looks like it’s hurt." Anna looked pityingly at the kitten’s hind leg. There was a gruesome wound there, nearly deep enough to show bone. That was likely why it had stayed curled up here instead of running away from strangers.
After a moment's thought, Anna took out a pair of scissors and a small knife. She trimmed the fur around the leg and scraped away the necrotic flesh.
The kitten cried out in pain, its claws lashing out and leaving several bloody scratches on the back of Anna’s hand.
"Senior!"
"I’m fine." Anna didn't mind at all. She gently held the kitten down while pouring a potion over the wound.
The wound healed at a visible rate. Anna then carefully wrapped the leg in a bandage.
By the time she was finished, the kitten had regained its mobility. Startled by the lingering sting, it gave a sudden kick against Anna’s lap, leaped onto a nearby tree, and vanished.
"Oh my, what a shame." Anna looked at the spot where the kitten had disappeared with a lingering sense of longing. "I wanted to pet it a bit longer."
"Senior, are you okay?" Muen walked over to check the scratches on her hand.
"It’s nothing, just a few scratches." Anna poured the remainder of the potion over the back of her hand. The tiny wounds healed instantly, leaving not even a trace.
"See? Potions are amazing, aren't they?" Anna said, sounding a bit boastful.
"Amazing. You're the most amazing of all, Senior." Muen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He hadn't expected Anna to have such a childlike side.
"But Junior..." Anna suddenly rested her chin on her hand and looked at Muen with a playful smile. "You’ve had all this time. I assume you’ve figured out where we’re going next?"
"..."
Muen’s smile froze.
Crap. He’d been so mesmerized by her that he’d completely forgotten to check.
*
In the end, they decided to find a restaurant for lunch.
Muen’s stomach had let out a thunderous growl, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in over thirty hours. He was famished, his stomach practically sticking to his spine; it was only his excitement for the date that had allowed him to suppress his physical needs.
Though this highly anticipated date had been anything but smooth so far.
"But this time, nothing will go wrong!" Muen pumped his fist, full of confidence.
There was a saying that the way to a woman's heart was through her stomach. Along the way, he had spent the most time studying the guide's recommendations for the various famous restaurants on this street.
After much comparison, Muen had settled on a private restaurant that was flawless in every category, from its ratings to its decor.
The only downside was its somewhat secluded location. It was actually off the main commercial street, tucked away in a residential area on a road called Durank Street.
But for a date, wasn't a quiet environment paired with pleasant music and candlelight the perfect setting?
No woman could resist a perfect candlelit din—candlelit lunch!
"I suppose I should look forward to it then." Seeing Muen’s confidence, Anna couldn't help but smile.
...
...
"How... how can this be?"
Half an hour later, after finally locating the secluded little restaurant, Muen began to question his very existence.
"Why... why is it closed?"
Looking at the large "Temporarily Closed" sign on the door, and then at the slightly odd expression on Anna’s face, Muen fell back into the abyss of despair.
What was going on? Was he really this unlucky?
Meeting extortionists was one thing, but why was the perfect restaurant closed?
Wasn't today Sunday? Generally speaking, what restaurant chooses to close on a Sunday?
I just want to have a nice date! Is it really that hard?!
"I don't believe in this jinx! You damn heavens, if you've got the guts, try making me even unluckier!" Muen couldn't help but roar at the sky, his eyes bloodshot.
Then, as if something he had forgotten was finally catching up to him, Muen heard a familiar voice.
"Mu... Muen?"