Ch.180012 Investigation Record – Tail Chasing (6)

The night was long. I didn’t have enough money in my pocket to monopolize Ms. Sara all night, and Bar Two Face was a busy establishment.

There were too many customers for Ms. Sara to handle alone, though a knoll was helping her with the work. It was a bar successful enough to have a female knoll staying there.

As time passed, Ms. Sara seemed to become excited, almost unable to contain her enthusiasm… then she began to transform with an ominous twisting that seemed to change her very skeleton.

The transformation didn’t take long. The sun must have completely set outside. With a cover placed over her tail that protruded from her dress pants to keep the fur from flying about, she energetically began taking orders again.

After watching her for a while, I turned toward Michael, who seemed to be getting drunk. His usually dry and sharp expression had softened somewhat.

Could I ask him more comfortably now? Instead of counting how many bottles he had emptied, I sat facing him. His gaze, which had been fixed on some middle point in the bar, turned toward me.

“Though the misunderstanding is cleared up, I still need to write an article. I’d like your opinion on how to approach it. Willem and I came up with a few hypotheses. Like maybe there was an ogre among the people who gathered there, or perhaps the bodyguard really did betray them but was subdued before he could use his gun… things like that.”

He listened to my words with hazy eyes. Then he burst into laughter and asked:

“Are you going to write lies in your paper? That’s not like you.”

“If you had left enough evidence for me to write about in the paper, I would have written what actually happened. You’re the one who prevented that, Michael.”

Perhaps because he was drunk, his sarcasm was mild. I could easily counter his remarks. Though he was someone who wouldn’t get drunk no matter how much ordinary alcohol he consumed, even he would eventually succumb to strong liquor.

“You always try to leave important decisions to others. Do it yourself. Write that you consulted with an expert who advises the police in investigations, and people will believe it. Don’t reveal the name. If they knew who it was, some people might recognize how remarkable that person is…”

No, it seemed alcohol didn’t dull his sharpness. Even while speaking like that, he was still listing good methods. Though he certainly seemed drunk, his mind remained clear.

“People tend to imagine others as greater and more remarkable than they really are.”

There was sincerity in that one statement. He was truly someone accustomed to such expectations and fantasies. The unnamed soldier who loved life had somehow become the heroic warrior of the Argonne Invincibles.

Michael probably complained like this because we were at Bar Two Face. His daytime self, or his nighttime self when not at a bar, would have used even those fantasies.

Honestly… I don’t think any of the praise he receives is exaggerated.

The Argonne Invincibles always stood at the forefront of the charge, willingly rushing in to help comrades trapped in trenches. Yet the assessment of them was never truthful. And secondly, despite that… they deserved the praise. They were people who lived day by day, regretting such choices even as they made them.

After providing such useful advice, the detective put down the new bottle that Sara had brought him. With slightly hazy eyes, he turned toward me.

“Since I’ve given you some advice, let me ask a favor in return.”

It was the first time the word “favor” had seemed so overwhelming. The idea that someone who could handle everything alone would ask something of me felt somehow pleasant.

“A favor? What is it?”

“Nothing much. Just, you’ll be going around doing your reporting, right? While you’re out and about, collect any rumors about dwarves for me. I’ll pay five dollars per piece of information, and it could go up to double depending on the value.”

Dwarves… After many people died in Littlehold and children were kidnapped, is he worried something similar might happen again? Not knowing exactly, I asked:

“Rumors about dwarves? If you’re not just looking for vague stories, please be more specific.”

He waved his hand at my serious attitude. It seemed this wasn’t something to be so serious about. At least not yet.

“Don’t be so serious. It’s just… lately dwarf warlocks have been quite noticeable. For warlocks, they’re walking around with their heads held unusually high. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

Were there many dwarf warlocks? I hadn’t met any, but I nodded anyway. He disliked warlocks. For such a person to ask for rumors about warlocks clearly meant… I understood his purpose.

Should I stop him? Would stopping him be the right thing to do? Most dwarf warlocks… those who learned magic before the Great War, knew how to use magic that transformed people into monsters.

My first thought was that if such people were living in this city, it might be better to pass information to Michael, but reason held me back. This wasn’t something to be handled that way.

“If I learn anything while reporting, I’ll write an article. But I don’t think I can give you information for you to visit them at night.”

He rose from the bar stool and walked toward the door behind the bar, gesturing for me to follow. In the quiet outside, contrasting with the lively interior of Two Face, he whispered:

“In just the past few months, I’ve met warlocks twice while doing completely unrelated work. The fact that they all know the term ‘doppel’ suggests they’re from the Great War. Isn’t that strange? The bastards who drew magical symbols on the bodies of soldiers from countries that were their enemies in the Great War, turning them into monsters, have immigrated here. They couldn’t have come individually.”

His voice when speaking of turning people into monsters was… sharp. Sharp enough to cut the tips of my pointed ears.

It was certainly strange to call it coincidence. Michael truly received requests from all kinds of people. He didn’t have a specific clientele, so meeting that many practitioners with the same background was unusual.

If that was the case, sharing information didn’t seem like a bad thing. After brief consideration, I nodded. I had no idea what might be happening.

“Alright then… But in exchange for information, please give me a heads-up before you take action! It might be better than you moving alone, Michael.”

As if that wasn’t even a condition worth mentioning, he nodded while rubbing his face, which had momentarily regained clarity. Then he opened the door and went back into Two Face.

Was he really drunk? Or was his vitality twice that of normal people, allowing him to sober up completely with just a breath of cold air? I followed him back inside.

After enjoying the bar’s bustling warmth like the comfort of home for a while longer, I left. Michael went home with the bouncer of Two Face serving as his driver, while I took a taxi.

The taxi driver sniffed a couple of times, then gave me a gentle smile. He was a human who seemed a little over forty. No, seeing his sharp canines, he was a vampire.

“I’m not exactly skin and bones myself, so you needn’t worry. I too remember what things were like before Prohibition, reporter.”

“Conversely, until recently I was quite thin. Oh, about being a reporter…”

The taxi driver glanced at me briefly upon hearing my confused voice, then smiled leisurely.

“It’s somewhat amusing that you ask such a question while carrying a camera. I knew from the camera.”

I must have become sensitive after just discussing dwarf warlock-soldiers with Michael. I deliberately sighed loudly enough for him to hear, then said:

“It feels quite strange when someone I don’t know at all recognizes me. I worried for nothing!”

Despite my admission of concern and wariness, the taxi driver’s voice remained calm.

“Even so, there’s no need to worry about a mere taxi driver. Driving is all I do. I wander around New York all day, and when someone hails a taxi, I ask ‘Where would you like to go?’ and when they say ‘Take me here,’ I drive them there. What else is there to worry about?”

His manner of speaking was more formal than our family driver who used to drive us, and there was an inexplicable dignity in his demeanor.

“The only somewhat unusual ability this humble person possesses is having memorized the entire map of New York. It would be strange for a taxi driver to ask passengers for directions, wouldn’t it?”

Moreover, the car was so stable it seemed almost motionless. Even the engine noise seemed to be muffled by the sound of the wind.

“Then you must be an excellent taxi driver! You don’t need to ask passengers for directions, nor do you need to consult a map book in front of them. A five-dollar tip would hardly be enough.”

“I’ve never received such kindness. Well, there was one time. A passenger offered to buy me a drink, but unfortunately, I don’t care for the drinks at Bar Enoch, so I declined.”

Bar Enoch… I think I heard about it when talking with Michael. It was definitely a vampire bar. I shuddered briefly imagining blood in cocktails.

“I don’t understand why they put blood in everything… What does blood taste like to vampires? I’m just curious.”

The journey home wasn’t far, but there was enough time for this kind of conversation. After thinking briefly, the taxi driver nodded and said:

“It’s sweet. Not sweet to the tongue like honey or sugar, but sweet to the heart. It provides quite a feeling of fullness and satisfaction. Perhaps it’s a feeling of happiness. Do you have a favorite food?”

His words made me think of Paulina. Everything Paulina cooked was delicious, always too much for an elf to eat… and always full of warmth and sincerity that made me feel good.

Rather than recalling the name of a specific dish, my alcohol-hazed mind first recalled Paulina’s back as she cooked. Thinking that might have been his intention, I smiled.

“I recall the person who makes the dish, the atmosphere when eating it… Is that what blood is like for vampires? A dish that gives you that feeling of fullness in your heart?”

“You’re quite insightful. Yes, that’s right. Oh, of course, we only drink well-prepared blood. Animal blood is gamey, and biting a human’s neck brings the smell of soap that ruins the appetite. They say blood willingly and cleanly drawn for our thirst tastes best, so vampires’ meals are quite dignified. Unlike cannibalism.”

The word “cannibalism” snapped me out of my alcohol-induced haze. Though there had been a commotion about that lately, it was strange that after correctly identifying me as a reporter, he would bring up cannibalism.

“Um, perhaps…”

I was about to ask if he was just mentioning a topic that was currently circulating, but he continued in his consistently polite manner:

“I have a good sense for the smell of death. I had quite a shocking experience when I first encountered it. Ah… since the experience is already past, perhaps it’s not an experience anymore. Anyway, I don’t know this from background checks or connections to dangerous people. Please don’t be anxious.”

Rather than anxious, I was intrigued. It was strange how someone from the street naturally knew things that should be unknowable, smiling at me as he did.

“Is it okay for you to say I have insight? Compared to you, I feel like I can barely see what’s in front of me.”

“The secret to my insight is merely experience. Yet, Miss Rose, you possess a certain level of insight without such experience. That’s why you’re insightful and remarkable.”

How much experience would one need to speak so naturally? I wondered… but a vampire’s lifespan was only about twice that of a human. They live somewhat longer due to lower body temperature and slower metabolism, but that’s all.

So, if I doubled what I could see, would that face be about eighty years old? I briefly imagined it but thought it would be rude to say aloud.

It was the first time I felt disappointed that a taxi was reaching its destination. Just before we arrived, an unfamiliar car pulled out of the apartment parking lot. Despite the late hour, it drove away quite fast.

I briefly considered whether to give a five-dollar tip, knowing it would thin my wallet further. The taxi driver was certainly kind and polite, but an ungenerous thought crept in that it had taken twice as long as usual to get from Bar Two Face to home.

The alcohol had been an unexpected expense, and I’d drunk more than anticipated, making that unexpected expense not insignificant… Being short on money truly made one feel miserable. It was a thought I’d never had before.

Not wanting to damage my pride, I didn’t pull out five dollars from my thin wallet. Instead, I just offered one dollar. But he refused.

“A taxi driver who accepts generous tips from passengers at this hour of night invites suspicion. For various reasons. You understand, don’t you?”

He was skilled at silencing people too. “Various reasons” was just a vague statement, but if I pressed him on it, he would naturally deflect until I could no longer respond.

I sighed briefly. With my face flushed from alcohol, I smiled and waved.

“You’re skilled to the end. Anyway, it’s been a long time since the journey home was this enjoyable. Thank you!”

“How delightful it is to drive someone who would thank a mere taxi driver. I’ll go back to my share of wandering, and I wish you a good night.”

After thanking him for preserving my dignity, I went up to my apartment. I unlocked the door and entered. On the floor of the entrance was a letter that had been pushed under the door. It was addressed to my mother.

The content of the letter was simple. It said it wasn’t right for someone who wasn’t a teenage girl to leave home without a word, and that today they would somehow send someone to take me back… adding that even if I somehow avoided them, they wanted me to know that my family was still waiting for me, which is why they were writing this letter.

It had been quite some time since family love stopped feeling warm, but this was the first time it felt so chilling. Wait, was that car leaving the parking lot just before I arrived their car?

Though I had been chasing the trail left by the perpetrator of the Old Epicurean case, what I ended up with was still just the unfinished bad relationship with my family home and suspicions about dwarf warlocks.