Ch.160Request Log #014 – How to Face Hatred (8)

# 2 Weeks of Monastic Life

Living like a monk for two weeks wasn’t difficult, but continuing that lifestyle afterward wasn’t easy. After leaving the hospital where Professor Lanshore was bedridden, I headed straight home.

There was no need to stop by Two Face. Though I hadn’t been drinking alcohol, I’d gone there quite often to unwind after long days. The bartender probably never expected to make that much money from coffee alone.

I put the duffle bag containing my guns away and slipped just one pistol, holster and all, into my pocket before heading out. When going to bars, taking a taxi was the better option. I didn’t want to get caught violating Prohibition and then have murder charges excavated.

I raised my hand to hail a cab, and one stopped—the driver’s face seemed familiar. The sharp fangs protruding from what otherwise looked completely human… Yes, it was the taxi driver I’d met when returning the child.

Meeting the same taxi driver twice in New York isn’t common. He seemed to recognize me too, smiling to reveal his fangs.

“To think I’d pick up the same passenger twice. Heading to Bar Enoch?”

“To think I’d meet the same driver twice. Yes, Enoch it is.”

With that, I got into the taxi. The driver was still perceptive. He glanced back at me briefly before smiling again, fangs exposed.

“You’ve killed a person who was a person, and a person who wasn’t a person. Though it seems like almost two weeks ago, you can’t escape this shabby vampire’s senses.”

He wasn’t detecting it through smell. If any scent remained, it would be gunpowder, and even that would have washed away long ago.

Magic? No, not magic. Most things achievable through magic were practical. Detecting a scent that should have dissipated long ago wasn’t magic but sorcery.

“No vampire could possibly smell a killing from two weeks ago. How do you figure these things out every time?”

The car started smoothly. He must have been driving for years—the ride felt as smooth as walking on a well-crafted carpet.

The taxi driver continued speaking without surprise or laughter, whispering as if revealing an unremarkable trick.

“I’m simply good at smelling murder. Each vampire has their own specialty when it comes to scents. Some smell blood well, others the scent of life. Many of my kind have similar abilities.”

If it was a racial trait, then it wasn’t sorcery… Still, the concept of a “murder scent” was strange. The same went for the “scent of life.” Of all he mentioned, only blood had an actual smell.

The car glided smoothly through New York’s evening streets. We passed through the factory district toward the bustling area filled with bars, and the ride was so smooth that we didn’t even jolt when crossing over the Industrial Spirit King’s body.

“By the way, Detective. Are you going to the bar to put down your burdens, or to forget them? If you’re going to put them down, it might be better to start with the small ones. If you’re going to forget, it might be better to start with the big ones. Personally, I mostly go to forget.”

I decided not to worry about how this taxi driver knew so many unnecessary things. Drawing my gun and shooting him in the back of the head right now would only result in the taxi crashing somewhere.

Besides, while preventing someone from knowing things was always meaningful, disposing of witnesses wasn’t always wise. When would you have to dispose of the witness who saw you disposing of a witness?

“I’ve heard there are many gods in New York who aren’t worshipped. Are you one of them? Well… if so, I can’t hide it. I’m going to forget. I’m going so I can sleep one more night. Vampires are nice to sleep with because they’re cool, and other races are nice because they’re warm. And when you drink, you don’t dream.”

He raised one hand from the steering wheel and placed it on his chest before lowering it again, as if thanking me for my honesty.

“An honest answer. Thank you. But I’m not an unworshipped god. I’m a wanderer. I’m a city person. Isn’t it funny in a way? A wanderer should not stay in the city, yet here I am. Perhaps that’s why I wander within the city.”

I hadn’t studied mythological history deeply enough to deduce his identity from those words. Most of my studies had been done on detective work rather than in school.

Though I couldn’t identify who he was, knowing he was someone who knew too much meant he was someone I could speak freely with. It was cheaper than hiring a therapist.

“If you’re going to forget, what are you trying to forget? Even if you’re not an unworshipped god, with your knowledge and talents, I wouldn’t think you’d have memories that need drowning in alcohol.”

And, like all such beings, he only gave cryptic answers. I hadn’t expected a proper response anyway.

“I wonder about that myself. Perhaps I’m just ruminating on things that no longer need ruminating. In that sense, Detective, you seem to be a step ahead of me.”

Was he saying my curse was at least worth ruminating on? No amount of rumination would reveal a solution. The Hexenbane with the God-President’s words remained the only solution.

I wanted to ask how much he knew, but by then the taxi had already arrived at Bar Enoch. Our conversation was only meant to last for the duration of the ride.

“If we happen to meet by chance again, it would be better to continue our conversation then, Detective. Now, I’ll go wander my share for today as well.”

The taxi driver didn’t get out of the car but immediately drove off back into the evening streets. In this city where fantasy and reality mixed shabbily, such encounters weren’t rare.

I paid it no mind and entered Bar Enoch. As I drank vodka supposedly imported directly from the Old Empire without blood mixed in, another vampire, drawn by my double vitality, approached the seat next to me.

A vampire’s skin feels exactly like a snowdrift, giving off no scent at all. This made perfume work well on them, but combined with their cold body temperature, it created the feeling of embracing something other than human.

Aside from that one point, they weren’t bad company for spending the night. Their bodies didn’t tire easily, and their desires didn’t fade quickly. Their gestures and voices were seductive, and their faces were generally pleasant to look at.

The only flaw besides their scentless skin was that occasionally, overcome with excitement, they tried to sink their fangs into your neck—but those fangs weren’t strong enough to pierce the skin of an Argonne Invincible.

The next morning, I woke up in a hotel. The Divine State Hotel had quite nice facilities, but due to several incidents, its reputation had suffered, making it cheap enough to use for spending just one night.

What happens in a hotel room should stay in the hotel room. After breakfast and leaving the room, we pretended not to know each other. I walked out of the hotel when it was almost noon.

I didn’t particularly like the vampires’ completely scentless skin, but I couldn’t complain about the lack of consequences. I’d never enjoyed dealing with aftermath from someone whose name I didn’t even know.

Since I hadn’t drunk much the previous night, I had no hangover, but I headed straight to Cafe Caligula anyway, pretending I did. One reason I’d chosen the Divine State Hotel was because Cafe Caligula was right in front of it.

The atmosphere in the cafe was peaceful as usual. As I pushed open the door, Levi, who seemed to have been waiting for customers, straightened up from leaning on the counter and waved at me.

“You’ve been drinking and smoking a lot these past few days, haven’t you? You said it yourself last time! That you only come for coffee when you’re not drinking or smoking.”

It was better not to mention that I’d had coffee elsewhere. Levi rarely got jealous, but she didn’t like losing regular customers.

Come to think of it, I’d been a regular at Cafe Two Face longer than at Cafe Caligula. That place had been Cafe Two Face since I was young.

“I bought two cartons of cigarettes. Ah, give me the usual.”

Levi, who was about to bring up her father again, sighed as if giving up and turned around. I sat on a stool in front of the counter and smirked at her.

“Why do you look like you’re giving up this time? Even if I know your entire repertoire by now, you should still tell me that story again.”

“You smoke so much, but you don’t seem to get sick, and no matter how much I talk, you don’t seem to listen, so I decided to stop! Here’s your coffee.”

Of course my body wasn’t deteriorating—that was due to my double vitality. It was something Levi couldn’t understand, and something I had no intention of explaining to her, so it was better to laugh it off.

But I couldn’t afford to lose my meaningless conversations with Levi, so after taking a sip of coffee loaded with milk and sugar, I spoke up.

She might not have been truly upset, but I still tried to coax her a little. It wasn’t the content of my words but the fact that I was trying to persuade her that would soften her up a bit.

“If you give up like that and then I suddenly get sick, you’ll feel guilty. Isn’t it better to just tell me now and avoid that?”

Of course, that would never happen, but Levi was a worrier. Her concerns quickly turned to worries, and when she worried, she eventually spoke up. That was what made her ordinary.

Daily life is generally better when it resembles yesterday. Levi, after briefly considering my response, began telling the same story she always told. It was the same story, word for word.

“Then I’ll say it just one more time! Don’t smoke so much. My father was such a healthy man, but because he smoked so much…”

I didn’t listen to the end this time either. I’d only said it to have a peaceful time at Cafe Caligula today, not because I actually wanted to hear that story again.

A little later, Yehoel entered Cafe Caligula, though it clearly wasn’t his break time. We exchanged grim expressions instead of greetings, for reasons Levi probably didn’t understand.

At least that day, he wasn’t spending time dating Levi. I couldn’t be shameless enough to do such a thing the day after spending the night with a nameless vampire.

Following what that taxi driver said yesterday… Cafe Caligula was also a place I came to forget. If I wanted to put things down rather than forget them, I would have to go to Two Face.

I needed to talk about cleaning up the back room of the bar that I hadn’t touched for five years since returning from the Great War, or my room on the second floor of the cafe, which was even older.

It wasn’t something I particularly wanted to do. We were both equally unable to let go of our attachments. We were in a situation where we were just holding onto our lingering feelings with both hands, not even knowing what we were attached to.

Like grains of sand that wouldn’t slip through our fingers, we just kept holding on until our knuckles turned white. No method for resolving these lingering feelings had been discovered yet.

Today I was planning to go home as usual, clean my guns while listening to the radio, but Yehoel clicked his tongue and stopped me. It seemed he had a favor to ask and wanted to talk since we happened to meet.

I paused before leaving the cafe. This time, to ensure Levi couldn’t hear us, we sat at a table instead of at the bar.

It was approaching lunchtime, and customers were starting to come in one or two at a time, but the cafe was still quiet. The customers who came in paid more attention to Levi’s smile than to us.

Yehoel seemed to find it difficult to start the conversation, clearing his throat once or twice before speaking casually, as if in passing.

“Hey, hey. If an officer doesn’t even buy a cup of coffee for his civilian collaborator, he deserves to be beaten to death. Anyway, anything new with you these days?”

“I’ve been relaxing for two weeks and made some money. You?”

When I naturally asked back, Yehoel pulled up one corner of his mouth and smirked. This question was probably exactly what he wanted.

“I’m having a crazy time. These days, people suddenly came down from above, and it’s no joke.”

From above. The only time Yehoel had mentioned people coming down from above was during the smuggler incident. I hoped it wouldn’t involve as many deaths as last time. Yet at the same time, I hoped there would be work.

“From above? What, the Archangels?”

I seemed to be on the right track. His face looked sly, as if he couldn’t reveal it first, but if he happened to let it slip during the conversation, it wouldn’t be his fault.

“No, not the Archangels, but people from the Sacred Security Bureau are out and about. Looks like something big is about to happen… and big incidents mean big achievements. And who else do I have to bring achievements to me besides you?”

The Sacred Security Bureau was directly under the God-President. Their main duties were managing unworshipped gods or protecting politicians other than the God-President, who didn’t need protection anyway… it was probably the former.

The latter wasn’t difficult for them. Not many people were stupid enough to mess with someone directly protected by the God-President. However, the former was quite a big deal.

Even unworshipped gods had abilities comparable to The Morrígan. And the Sacred Security Bureau wouldn’t mobilize just because The Morrígan was using her preserved abilities.

They only moved when a god who had sworn not to be worshipped tried to receive worship. Only when they tried to break their promise with the God-President.

A god with not a single worshipper becomes almost human, but the moment they gain even one worshipper, they become a god again. And in this country, the only god legally worshipped was the God-President.

Yehoel confidently leaked information to me, but it was far beyond what I could handle. I immediately shook my head. I rejected it without leaving any room for negotiation.

“This isn’t something I should get involved in. If they’ve come down from there, it must be a big shot. But it’s far beyond what I can handle. What do you take me for? What, an unworshipped detective?”

“Isn’t that about right? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you fail at anything. Hey, there are ways to deal with even gods here. You should have been more receptive.”

I was so dumbfounded I could barely breathe. Anyway, I wouldn’t get involved with gods again, except for The Morrígan. The Morrígan was more of an Irish gang boss than a god.

“Forget it. Neither you nor I have anything to gain by getting tangled up with gods. Gods aren’t gods for nothing.”

I walked out of Cafe Caligula, leaving Yehoel with a disappointed expression. Holidays often continued like this.