Chapter 179: Adventurer Praline (2)

Ｒｅａｄ ｏｎ ＫａｔＲｅａｄｉｎｇＣａ​ｆｅ

Praline bowed her head. She was a woman consumed by anguish.

Had she really been so bad at controlling her expressions?

Had she really let her guard down so easily whenever Riley was around?

And to think she’d been caught setting up the lantern over something so trivial—what kind of nonsense was that?

She was a complete idiot.

“Sugar? Can we keep talking for now?”

“Agh, ugh, urk, agh.”

“Sugar?”

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Suppressing the urge to hide under the blankets, Sugar began explaining, one detail at a time.

“—So, this thing has a lie-detecting function. And you pointed it at me?”

“Yeah… That’s right. I hid it, so I’m sor—”

“No. There’s nothing to apologize for. I was using something similar, actually.”

“Huh?”

At that moment, Praline unclenched her fist, and a glass marble flew out, hitting Sugar squarely on the head.

“Ow… What’s this?”

“The Orb of Condemnation. I named it myself. It automatically flies at anyone within range who feels a certain level of guilt. The speed varies depending on the intensity of their remorse.”

“So the fact that it hit me just now means…”

“Exactly. You felt guilty about testing me.”

Sugar examined the orb carefully before handing it back to Praline.

“I usually just hold it in my hand during conversations. If it starts trembling, I know, ‘Ah, this person is lying or hiding something.’ Of course, it’s useless against someone who lies without a shred of guilt.”

“Well, either way…”

“We’re even. So relax.”

Heh heh. The laughter sounded oddly cheerful. Sugar also let out a breath and laughed.

This friend had been through a lot too. There was something deeply personal in her demeanor, a life lived and lessons learned.

Old friends who had walked separate paths before reuniting—somehow, it felt both fulfilling and lonely.

“Since we’ve both been exposed… I’ll place this in the middle. Now, if either of us lies, we’ll both know immediately.”

“Got it.”

“And let me say it again. No team has gotten as close to the Saint’s Water as we have.”

The lantern near Sugar didn’t glow red.

“…At least, that’s what you believe, Sugar?”

“Yes. I can’t explain why, though. That part’s still a secret.”

She wanted to keep the knowledge of the three main ingredients hidden—it might be useful in future negotiations.

“Then how can you prove it? How can you prove you’re the closest?”

She might believe they’re the closest, but a sliver of doubt remains.

How could anyone know if someone, somewhere in the world, had already secretly created the Saint’s Water?

But that wasn’t a useful assumption right now.

The priority was making Praline trust them and moving the negotiation forward. That was all that mattered.

Sugar glanced back. It was time to rely on her friends.

As if they’d anticipated this, the two of them stepped forward quietly.

“Praline. Don’t spread word of what you see today.”

“Of course. I swear.”

Following Sugar’s gesture, Leon was the first to reveal his White Tree staff.

“A white staff…?”

“You’ve read the papers since returning from your adventures, right? ‘The Prophet Chosen by the Saint.’”

“…Wait. Seriously?”

“And… Lord Ian.”

Ianne lowered her hood. Her cascading platinum hair revealed the unmistakable color of her eyes.

Praline’s armor began to tremble.

“A white staff… purple eyes… By the Saint’s grace…”

She could never have imagined this.

Immediately, Praline stood up and bowed deeply.

“Stop, stop. Let’s just talk first.”

“This… this is real? You’re moving from the Holy City? Is the legend truly coming to pass…?”

With a Prophet and Her Holiness on the team creating the Saint’s Water, who wouldn’t be awed? Especially those purple eyes. With that bloodline, even the impossible could be made possible. This reaction was only natural.

Sugar smiled silently. The Holy City wasn’t actually involved, but it was better to let Praline think otherwise.

“Sugar… really… just… why…”

Watching Praline shake, Sugar allowed herself a triumphant smile. This should tip the scales. She’ll abandon her shaky investments and have no choice but to side with us.

The Song of Silence will be ours.

That was the moment Praline screamed.

“WHY DID YOU COME SO LATE?!”

The roar echoed through her entire body. Caught off guard, Sugar blinked in confusion.

“Wh-what’s wrong?”

“Aah! I—I haven’t even said anything yet! The contract, it’s—it’s already—”

“Slow down… explain properly.”

“I already signed a contract!!”

“What?!”

“Wait, what? When?! When did you finalize it?!”

“This morning… this morning!”

“You said you’d think about it until tomorrow!”

“I said I was planning to think about it! But I changed my mind and signed the contract on my way here!”

“So I was going to think about it until tomorrow. Whether to sign or not. But tomorrow was still five days away.”

Everyone in the room jumped to their feet.

“Aaaah! Call them right now! Cancel the contract! Cancel it!”

“W-w-wait…!”

Praline stammered, clearly flustered—an old habit resurfacing.

Even so, she marched straight to a drawer and pulled out a communication device. Everyone watched anxiously.

…

…

“No answer… I can’t reach them…”

“When’s the transfer date?”

“The day after tomorrow. The auction house is holding it until then, and the contract office will hand it over the morning after.”

“Can we refuse the transfer at that point…?”

“The contract office will send enforcers. The item will be handed over forcibly.”

Sugar clutched her head.

The contract was already signed.

The investor had vanished after securing the deal.

By tomorrow, the Song of Silence would be in their hands.

The situation was dire. They had to act fast.

A way to stop the contract. A way to keep it from falling into someone else’s grasp.

“…Praline. Where is this investor you signed with?”

“Label of the Skin’s Raphael. I—I signed with him.”

Label of the Skin? That sounded familiar.

“The perfume workshop? Madame Olivierr? The romance gossip?”

“Yes… they’re famous in this city.”

A perfume workshop.

It wasn’t surprising—water-aligned mages often dabbled in both potions and perfumes. Raphael probably made money selling fragrances before diving into drug research.

“Haaah…”

Sugar exhaled, her mind made up.

“Praline… I’ll be honest. If we make this medicine, there’s someone who has to take it first.”

“…I don’t care. As long as the formula is finalized, you can make another batch for me later. I’ll secure all the ingredients myself.”

Her voice was steady now, no more stuttering. She’d accepted that she wouldn’t be the priority.

“Honestly… I’ve been investing all over, but I was never sure. Could they really succeed? Or would I just pour money into them for years, decades, until everything faded away…?”

Gripping her helmet, she muttered her doubts aloud. She must have had her own desperate reasons for needing the Saint’s Water.

Watching her, Sugar turned to her friend.

“Leon. How long do you estimate production will take?”

The answer that followed was perfect.

“We aim to complete it within this year.”

Well?

Sugar grinned and locked eyes with Praline.

Then she took her hand and subtly shared the plan she’d just concocted.

“Hey, Praline. Hypothetically, hypothetically…”

“…?”

“If some mysterious figures were to make that contract disappear…”

“What…?”

“No matter how much they demand the Song of Silence, without the contract, they’d have no proof, right?”

From the lips of this woman—with her fairy-like looks, pastel-pink-and-blue eyes, and snow-white hair—oozed pure mischief.

The others gasped. Only Riley snorted a laugh.

“Wow… Sugar, you…”

Praline let out a strangled noise—

“…The contract isn’t at the perfume workshop. It’s in the CEO’s office.”

—then began rattling off details.

“That guy also runs a members-only casino. The office is on the top floor. I was just there this morning.”

“What? A casino?”

“Gotta diversify your income streams.”

As she spoke, she pulled out paper and pen and started sketching.

“Look, I know nothing. Today, I just met an old friend. I didn’t see any noble or famous figures. This drawing is just a doodle. Nothing happened today.”

While outright denying the day’s events, she slid over a neatly drawn floor plan of the casino.

Sugar quietly took it and tucked it into her coat.

It seemed the negotiation had concluded… successfully.

.
.
.

“By the way… I heard you were secretive. I’m surprised you’re so friendly.”

“Ah, I’m just lazy about people. Not shy or anything.”

At dusk, on the way back, Praline followed to see them off. When Leon asked the question, she waved a hand dismissively.

Sugar teased from the side.

“You were so shy as a kid.”

“Ugh, that was back then. But you? You haven’t changed at all. Wait—no, maybe you have.”

“What do you mean?”

“The way you act around… Riley. You used to mercilessly bully him. Now it’s weirdly tame.”

“…And that means?”

“You look flustered. Fascinating.”

“What?!”

Ha ha! Praline’s laughter clanged like armor. As she threw her head back, Sugar tried to glare but found herself quietly studying her instead.

That face, always hidden behind a helmet—what did it look like? What reason did she have to never take it off?

“It’s nice… walking with people like this,” Praline murmured, her tone wistful.

“I used to have so many comrades…”

Used to.

No one pressed further.

Soon, they arrived at the lodging where the four would stay.

“You’re staying here?”

“The inside’s nicer than it looks.”

“Glad to hear it. Well, get some rest.”

“Yeah. You too.”

“Take care. Good luck. See you the day after tomorrow.”

They waved goodbye. The sunset glinted off Praline’s armor as she clanked away, a striking silhouette.

Sugar watched until she vanished, then turned back.

“Alright… You’ve all worked hard, moving nonstop since we arrived. Let’s rest tonight. We’ll act tomorrow.”

“Um, Sugar…”

“Hm? Oh, right. Dinner first.”

“No, I mean—yes, we should eat, but that’s not it.”

Ian hesitated, and Sugar tilted her head.

When the question finally came, it was inevitable:

“We booked two twin rooms. How are we splitting up?”

“Ah.”

***************

The room smelled faintly of match smoke.

Luxurious, with vintage decor.

Against the backdrop of the harbor city’s nightscape, a man slumped in a plush chair, sighing repeatedly. His restless demeanor betrayed deep unease.

Then the door opened, and a woman in an ornate dress entered. The heavy perfume she wore—the most popular women’s fragrance in the city—mingled with the lingering smoke.

“O-Olivier!”

The man perked up, as if he’d been waiting.

“When will we finally…? Not yet?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Ah… Please. I’m clinging to your promise that you’ll accept me, Olivier…”

Raphael. Owner of the famed perfume workshop. Owner of the casino.

A man of wealth and prestige, yet pitifully desperate for one woman’s affection.

“If you wait without worry, I will accept you. So be patient.”

Olivier approached, cupping his jaw with hypnotic gentleness.

“A man is most attractive when he doesn’t rush.”

“B-but… if I gain that power… I’ll amass even more wealth and honor. I could reach the Saint’s Water faster than anyone… With it, I’d make you the happiest woman in the world.”

It was practically a proposal. He’d already crafted a perfume confessing his love. His passion hadn’t dimmed.

Hee hee. Olivier laughed softly and kissed him.

And as she did, she thought:

‘It’s about time I “accept” him.’

She was honest in all things.

She never lied.

A woman who never lied now held the man tightly in her arms.