Ch.11002 Investigation Record – Meeting the Cowboy of New York (2)

“Why are you showing such obvious tension while telling me not to be nervous, Rose?”

Paulina patted her back and spoke in a half-whispered voice. It was loud enough for the source to hear, which brought a smile to his face as well.

*Sigh, that’s right. At least she’s someone who makes people smile wherever she goes. What’s there to worry about? Today, I’ll try to see the bright side, just like in the elven proverb.*

After leaving the police station, they headed to the restaurant Paulina had reserved. Usually, this was something she should have done herself, but it seemed Paulina was handling almost everything.

Even in that alley earlier, if Paulina hadn’t been there, she would have lost her camera, or worse… What could she do alone without Paulina? She worried briefly.

Paulina was an exceptional person. Her legal arguments… though Rose hadn’t seen her in action, she must be good enough to work as a company lawyer, and her physical arguments were first-class. Rose was still just a rookie reporter.

Moody people can become depressed as quickly as they can smile. She briefly touched her face to check if her expression was showing, then headed to the restaurant.

It was a restaurant that felt like a seafaring establishment—walls covered with ocean photographs, blue and white tablecloths that resembled foamy waves, and sturdy waiters instead of waitresses.

“I like the atmosphere, Paulina. The photos on the wall make me wonder how someone could capture such moments… and the wave-like interior is nice too.”

When she was in a bad mood, she tended to talk too much. She briefly considered keeping quiet, but the source Paulina had arranged naturally picked up the conversation.

“Paulina is good at everything when asked. Oh, by the way, what kind of articles do you usually write? Most reporters introduce that first, but now I’m curious.”

Huh? Oh, ugh. She hadn’t said anything on the way here because she’d been lost in her thoughts again. She scrambled to think of something to say, but it wasn’t easy.

*The lawyer probably thinks I’m strange too? No, no. He wouldn’t think I’m strange, that’s why he’s asking. This is my last chance.*

After sitting at the reserved table with the two of them and listening to Paulina order, she gathered her thoughts. Ah, yes. There was only one answer to that question.

“I write any kind of article. Even the quietest person always wants to say something. I just think they’re afraid no one will listen, or if they do, they’ll treat it as trivial talk. So I write articles about things people want to say but can’t. Yes! That’s the most accurate way to put it.”

The lawyer gave her a somewhat curious expression. She must have spoken well. Or not? No, a reporter couldn’t possibly have a better answer than that.

“I can see why Paulina insisted I meet you. The reporters I’ve met mostly talked about their specialties.”

They were people who knew their value well. She couldn’t say who was good or bad. Sometimes she envied people who knew exactly what they were capable of!

Soon the bread arrived, and she tore off a bite-sized piece and put it in her mouth. It was bread with salt crystals that crunched between her teeth, but it wasn’t too salty. Decent bread.

“Personally, I respect them quite a bit. When I’m just skimming the surface, they dig deep into what they’re good at and unearth something.”

The source seemed pleased with her positive assessment of specialized reporters and comfortably picked up some bread.

The dwarven saying about having only flowers in one’s head briefly came to mind, and she glanced up at the lawyer. At least he wasn’t looking at her like she was stupid.

Ah, this wasn’t good… She shouldn’t shrink away so easily. People who say such things are everywhere, and as the saying goes, the train keeps moving no matter how much a dog barks. She took a deep breath.

The lawyer, who had been watching her, now completely dropped his guard and spoke.

“Honestly, it’s not easy to acknowledge someone in the same industry, right? They’re competitors in a way, and then you might hear, ‘So you’re not as good as them?’ It’s easy to hear that.”

She nodded almost unconsciously at his seemingly empathetic words. It seemed like he was deliberately saying nice things to show he wouldn’t be discouraged by such talk.

Wait, was this wrong? Wasn’t she supposed to persuade the lawyer to leak newsworthy information to her if needed? She held back her response again.

“But it’s better to acknowledge others. I would have taken this client without question if it were Paulina, but I had quite a few complaints. Such a nasty guy…”

He pulled out a cigarette as if his mouth was bitter from talking, but remembering he was in front of an elf, he nodded slightly and put it back.

“Still, even people like this have rights. Oh, you won’t write about this, right?”

“Of course not! I told you I didn’t come out today to write an article. I don’t lie! Probably…”

Ah, was adding “probably” at the end a bad choice? Writing could be edited, but speaking was difficult.

But in this pleasant atmosphere, such a small mistake seemed forgivable. Or perhaps he took it as honesty? She wished she could read his mind.

“Well… honestly, he’s someone I don’t want to defend. The evidence and witnesses are all clear, but he believes he can get away by bribing people around the victim and keeps insisting on his innocence. Ah, I haven’t mentioned what case it is, so I haven’t broken my confidentiality agreement. Just leave it at that.”

He gave a somewhat bitter smile. Today had probably not been a good day for either of them.

Fortunately, nothing healed a bad day like food. Soon their orders arrived, and a thick tomato soup filled with clams was placed in front of her. A pleasant aroma tickled her nose.

During the meal, Paulina initiated conversation. It was about how clumsy Rose was, which was somewhat… quite embarrassing, but good for lightening the mood.

Since Paulina knew the goal was to get closer to the source, she was moving very efficiently as always. Was the Paulina she usually saw really her comfortable self?

Thanks mostly to Paulina, the dinner with the lawyer ended pleasantly, and he returned to the police station, saying he needed to see his client.

If she tried to find out what happened by wandering around the police station now, she could probably discover what case the lawyer was handling… but holding a camera didn’t free her from all responsibilities.

Those who held cameras especially needed to keep very fragile promises. Like the promise she’d made in the restaurant when she said she probably wouldn’t lie.

People put faith in such uncertain words. It was a very small, very fragile promise, but if you didn’t keep it, you’d become someone who couldn’t share heavy promises, secrets, and information.

So, instead of being curious about the case he was handling, she got back into Paulina’s car to find her original interview subject. She briefly hoped they wouldn’t encounter street crime this time.

“The dinner ended well. How many sources have you met so far, Rose?”

“Huh? Well… Wow, it’s been a while since you’ve asked me to remember something! The lawyer we just met was the fifth. I thought it would be easier since he was around my age, but actually, older sources who know how to deal with reporters are more comfortable… though those were my father’s connections, so it didn’t feel like I was doing the reporting.”

This might have been the first source recruitment I’ve done myself… Paulina was there, but she wasn’t as influential as my father, so anyway, it might have been my first self-made source recruitment.

“You remember well. Then… now let’s go to Fifth Avenue where the Cowboy of New York is said to appear. But do you really think it’s not just some advertisement? To me, he looks like someone waiting for a reporter.”

“Well… I’m not sure, but I want to go check it out. If all other reporters think the same way, maybe I can get the scoop?”

She’d heard that while journalism starts with passion, later on, you end up sitting in an office just writing articles based on what others report.

That wasn’t the only reason she’d chosen a small newspaper. In a place like this, she’d have to do everything from reporting to writing articles herself, so she could become a real journalist instead of just a company cog.

Was this also… a childish thought? Today seemed to have more questions she was postponing answers to. Meanwhile, the car kept moving.

They arrived at New York’s Fifth Avenue and chose a nearby cafe to wait. It was a distinctive place with signs featuring the face of the Roman emperor called Caligula on both sides.

Entering a cafe was quite difficult unless it was an elf-exclusive one. The aroma of mixed coffee beans was too strong to enjoy without diluting it with milk. Still, she could tolerate it a bit.

Today, the blonde clerk welcomed them again. Rebecca remembered the faces of regular customers and gave them her characteristic bright smile.

“Welcome! Oh, Rose! Do you need a place to wait until your interview again today? Then… I’d appreciate if you ordered a drink every 30 minutes!”

It was a harmless joke rather than an attempt to overcharge. She smiled back at Rebecca’s joke and placed her order first. It would be rude to ask questions before ordering in someone else’s shop.

“If you drink that much elven coffee, you might as well drink two bottles of milk here! Oh, one elven coffee and one black coffee. No sugar or milk, right, Paulina?”

If nothing else, she remembered this one thing clearly. Paulina’s food preferences were quite particular.

“Sugar or milk dulls the taste of coffee. I do drink it with plenty of sugar when I need to wake up, but usually, yes, just black.”

She paid for the coffee with a more generous tip than usual. Noticing the amount, Rebecca leaned forward over the counter and smirked.

“What are you trying to find out today with such a big tip? There’s no confidentiality agreement with cafe owners, even though I might not know anything.”

She almost laughed at Rebecca’s conspiratorial tone but matched her by lowering her voice.

Paulina seemed to be looking down at them with a sigh… at least that’s what Rose imagined! She was sure Paulina was doing that, but since Paulina kept her eyes covered, Rose decided to consider it just a guess.

“I’m here to report on the Cowboy who’s said to wander around Fifth Avenue, and I was wondering if he’s ever been to this cafe. Everyone’s curious about who he is, right?”

Rebecca shook her head briefly.

“He’s never been to the cafe. They say he wanders around Fifth Avenue in that outfit and then disappears somewhere else, but no one follows him closely enough to know where he lives. Oh, I don’t seem to be much help…”

“Then you can just hope I’ll be helpful to myself! I’m often not much help to myself either.”

She softened what might have sounded like blame with a joke, and soon they received their coffee and left the cafe, which felt like it might suffocate her with the smell of coffee beans, to sit at a table on the street. This would be better if someone passed by.

She took a sip of her elven coffee, now properly diluted with hot milk so the taste of the beans could be properly appreciated, and watched with curiosity as Paulina drank her bitter, strong black coffee.

“I wish I could become a race other than an elf sometime. I wonder what that coffee tastes like…”

It was also quite enjoyable to see the coffee cup in Paulina’s hand, which looked like a toy cup. It was a sight that could remind one of childhood.

“If this were a private employment, I could say that’s possible. But the Rose family is quite proud of being elves, right? It’s a fairly old family too.”

“Couldn’t you speak more casually at times like this? I thought we weren’t working right now!”

Paulina tapped the shield attached to her left wrist to show her. Wearing the shield meant she was working. Ah, somehow that made Rose feel lonely.

As she quietly sipped her elven coffee, she began to hear clicking sounds from far away.

The sensitive elven hearing allowed her to precisely distinguish desired sounds among all the city noises. It was a sound she remembered clearly.

It was the sound of spurs that cowboys wore on the backs of their boots hitting the ground. It wasn’t just something she’d heard occasionally at home—she’d heard it almost daily.

She was about to rush out thoughtlessly again but remembered what had happened just hours ago when she’d done that, so she just stood up. She extended her hand to Paulina.

“See? I didn’t run out right away this time. Let’s go, Paulina! I think I know where the Cowboy is. Our ears are good too, not just our noses!”

Unlike sensitive smell, sensitive hearing wasn’t that inconvenient. She tapped her pointed, protruding ears to indicate she’d heard something, then moved together with Paulina, who deliberately took her hand as she stood up.

They crossed the downtown area, following the sound of spurs hitting the ground. Everyone on this street was moving with purpose, but none were as energetic as they were.

After moving for quite a while, they saw a cowboy who looked like someone you might see at her family home.

He wore a wide-brimmed hat instead of a fedora, pants with long leather fringes along the sides… and a shirt with a leather vest rather than a suit. If this was just a costume, it was an impressive one. The revolver at his waist also looked genuine, but surely he wouldn’t shoot if she approached? She approached without hesitation.

While he seemed used to people’s stares, he didn’t seem accustomed to someone approaching him directly like this.

For someone dressed like an outlaw, he looked uncertain as she approached. When she got close enough, she pulled out one of the business cards she kept in her pocket—always exactly ten—and handed it to him.

“I’m a reporter from Golden Age Press. Could you spare some time? I wanted to meet the Cowboy of New York. That would be you, right?”

When she showed a friendly smile, he seemed to finally understand her purpose and relaxed a bit. He looked human but with slightly angular ears, suggesting he was part elf.

“Ah, finally they send a reporter who knows something. Listen, partner. Do you know how many times I’ve refused interviews?”

He… huh? Contrary to his uncertain behavior just moments ago, he now started talking comfortably as if they were old friends.

“You know, every single one comes to me saying, ‘There’s a weird person walking around in cowboy clothes,’ and wants to interview me. There’s no greater insult to a real cowboy.”

Somehow… she had a thought, a suspicion… no, a certainty that he was someone with strange fantasies about cowboys. A cowboy without cows.