Ch.200013 Investigation Record – World of Sword and Magic (3)

The ride on the fire dragon’s back was truly… By the time I finished that thought, six hours had passed. It took me that long to find myself asleep with the camera in my hand, my face buried in the magical field barrier.

That made sense, as Draig’s scales were warm enough that I didn’t need the thick coat I’d worn at the airport. It was cozy enough to make me forget we were flying at a height where entire cities looked no bigger than a fingertip.

His scales, which served as my floor, were quite firm yet still felt like a living creature’s skin, making them wonderfully comfortable to lean against. It had been a very long time since I’d fallen asleep leaning against someone.

Our speed remained constant. We were higher than the sunset. Thanks to the darkened barrier that had grown deeper amber in color, I could look directly at the sunset and raised my camera toward it.

The part captured by my camera lens began adjusting its transparency. Like a second lens, only the area above the horizon I was photographing darkened to match the sunset’s colors.

It was an unexpectedly kind gesture from such a gruff dragon. Still, he was such an enormous being that I reached down to stroke a tiny portion that wasn’t even a quarter of a single scale. I gave him a bright smile.

“You seem to have quite an appreciation for photography, don’t you?”

“When you short-lived species first invented cameras, a young dragon who was watching humans for fun came to me complaining that the camera had blinded him and asked me to punish humans, little one! Quite an interesting device!”

I placed my finger on the shutter. Drawing mana from every breath in my lungs, I felt an enormous amount of mana filling the barrier as if being lent to me from somewhere, and I channeled it into the camera.

Magic flowed through the circuits. Then, with a crisp shutter sound, it perfectly captured the sunset. Though I hadn’t developed it yet, I could almost tell what kind of photo I’d taken.

I lay down gently on one of the dragon’s scales. It was warm and seemingly hard, yet had its own flexibility with a unique softness that felt quite pleasant.

“I thought dragons lived so long they’d dislike new technology, calling it sorcery or something. Was that just another misconception?”

Draig snorted. A fierce flame like that from a blast furnace rose up his bridge of nose and swept through the barrier, but the barrier remained perfectly intact.

“How brave of you to present prejudices that only young dragons hold! When I was young, your short-lived kind wore armor and rode horses. Kings and knights ruled the world. And here I am, living in this modern age! How beautiful technology is. How beautiful progress is. Do you short-lived beings who live at most a hundred years truly appreciate that beauty!”

Draig’s voice carried endless confidence and arrogance, as well as pride and satisfaction. What he described was a beauty that only dragons could see.

Was this why he willingly flew twenty-four hours round trip for a short-lived being who until recently had merely frequented the same cafe and bar? Was it repayment for showing him that beauty? I felt even better.

Now completely relaxed and sprawled across his scales, I laughed. I playfully poked at his scales.

“At least I’m living in the same world as someone who finds everything we do beautiful. I don’t think I could ever think life is meaningless again, even as a joke. Really.”

He made a sound of disbelief. Despite speaking through flame-speech, his voice was incredibly loud.

“Have you been living with such thoughts until now!”

His tone suggested he wouldn’t allow it. This time, not content with just flame-speech, he let out a roar that scattered the surrounding clouds. The frost turned to water droplets and poured down.

“Originally, I consoled myself that everything must have meaning… but at some point I forgot that and just did what I wanted to do. Is that not enough?”

Draig snorted flames again. It seemed like a satisfied laugh. He truly was an endlessly arrogant yet admirable creature.

“That’s more than enough. Have some food and go back to sleep. Though it’s amusing that you consider what’s in that metal can a meal.”

If I told him that as an elf I could eat three meals from this one can of food, he might flip over. Since getting motion sickness from flying upside down didn’t sound appealing, I decided to keep that to myself.

The flight remained satisfying throughout. Watching Draig tell stories from hundreds of years ago as if they happened yesterday was even more enjoyable than the stories themselves. Though they should have evaporated long ago, the dragon’s presence gave these tales texture and life.

Time passed quickly as we spent it this way, and the six hours went by faster than expected. After the sun had completely set, the only change was that he released mana a bit more frequently.

Shortly after midnight, city lights began to appear below us again. Not New York. A city so different from where I lived that it might feel alien. A city full of expectation.

The San Francisco Empire was there. While I gazed down with sparkling eyes, Draig began flame-speaking again. Though he had told me not to use magic, I could clearly hear his flame-speech.

“Control tower, registration number 00116, Draig Koch. Please confirm there are no dragons preparing to take flight.”

From this height, I could barely make out where the airport was. Nevertheless, some orc down there was sending flame-speech back to him. They must be quite skilled in magic.

“00116, welcome to the San Francisco Empire. Glory to the people, glory to the Emperor we serve, glory to the God-President who appointed him. There are currently no dragons preparing for takeoff, so please feel free to land. Would you like an orc-sized suit prepared in the changing room? With amber-colored sunglass lenses?”

“Control tower, this is 00116. Confirmed. I’m landing.”

After this stiff exchange, he flapped his wings and began to descend slowly. My body, which had felt so light in the sky, seemed heavier as we approached the ground. The gravity magic must have dissipated.

Draig’s red scales shone a vivid red even in the moonlight. He lifted me with gravity magic again and set me down on the ground, then stretched his wings to check the membrane before folding them back.

Once again, he rested his chin on the ground and met my gaze. Despite flying for a full twelve hours, he showed no signs of fatigue whatsoever.

“Go in ahead and wait. I’ll follow.”

“Ah, yes! Please hurry!”

I passed by a sign about polymorphing that was too large for me to read, and pushed through the glass doors. I headed straight into the airport rather than toward the changing rooms used by dragons.

After waiting briefly with my luggage, Draig emerged once again wearing a suit and sunglasses that concealed his reptilian pupils. He was carrying a bag that he hadn’t brought with him.

Another goblin—or rather, another dragon in a goblin’s body—wearing sunglasses and a suit approached him and shook hands lightly. From what he said, he was clearly another dragon.

“Branch Director Draig, I’m Moin, we met about two hundred years ago. Do you still remember? I’ve been working in San Francisco and was quite surprised to hear a dragon was flying in overnight. I should offer you a root tea, but we’re quite busy with preparations for the Coronation Anniversary, so I barely managed to come greet you.”

Draig shook hands with the dragon and then pulled me in front of him. Even though it was a polymorphed dragon’s body with gravity magic adjusting its weight, the way he moved me so effortlessly, like a chess piece, still felt strange.

“I came here to bring this short-lived one, so don’t worry too much. The Coronation Anniversary is… tomorrow now, isn’t it?”

The dragon in the goblin’s body curled up the corner of his mouth. The Emperor of the San Francisco Empire seemed well-regarded even among dragons. He must be a type of person unprecedented even in dragons’ long lives.

“Ah, then I should have greeted you like this. Glory to the people, glory to the Emperor we serve, and glory to the God-President who appointed him. Honestly, Director Draig, could you have imagined it? That a madman would save a city struggling because its gold ran out? I found it quite entertaining to watch and even settled here, but now I’ve come to respect him quite a bit.”

Those words seemed to provoke Draig. He let out a hearty laugh mixed with flames and clenched his fist.

“Is this the same dragon who told me two hundred years ago that he had no hobby of observing short-lived species? Hmm?”

So dragons have ordinary friendships too. It was strange to hear them casually discussing events from 200 years ago, but if I thought of it as two months or two years, I could follow the conversation.

The dragon in the goblin’s body waved his hand dismissively. Looking closer, I noticed his skin wasn’t actually green like a goblin’s—rather, green scales covered the back of his hand. He was less disguised, it seemed.

“Two hundred years isn’t particularly long, but if a person doesn’t change in that time, they’re already dead. Dead indeed. So, this short-lived one is…”

Should I be offended by the term “short-lived one”? There was no real need. Dragons were a species that considered two hundred years not a long time. I took a business card from my wallet and handed it to him.

“I’m Rose Leafman, a reporter from Golden Age Press in New York! Ah, haha, I wanted to cover the Coronation Anniversary and was looking for a way to get here from New York just two days before…”

Rather than explaining how I visited a detective I knew who was hospitalized with a fake illness, who then introduced me to my regular bar’s bartender… “somehow” seemed more appropriate. That story had too many tangents.

“Somehow I ended up getting help from Draig.”

“Now that’s… a ‘somehow’ story I’d like to hear. I can’t even begin to imagine what kind of story it takes for a short-lived being to ask a dragon to fly diagonally across the North American continent. Anyway, you should rest well today. Draig asked our company to arrange vacation time, hotel reservations, and even a tour guide for you.”

Right, San Francisco really is different. Someone who doesn’t know me at all being kind? I felt a somewhat playful disillusionment with my old, dear New York at this thought.

Draig finally released my shoulder. He seemed to be entrusting my San Francisco guidance to this dragon. He covered a flame as he yawned once.

“I’ll be resting in the lair I keep as a vacation home, so call me when it’s time to return. Flying for twelve hours has made me tired. It was too demanding a schedule for a dragon over six hundred years old.”

He seemed to have enjoyed the flight here immensely, but changing his tune after arriving made me feel good—it felt like he wanted me to enjoy this city comfortably without worrying about him.

Dragon lairs are usually filled with treasure… So does a vacation lair sit empty with treasure piled up? If some lucky person found it, there would be enough treasure to shake the economy…

No, that can’t be right. Surely the lair entrance has several “private property” fences. And thieves wouldn’t want to encounter a dragon in its true form anyway.

I left the airport with Moin. The city smelled of festival. The scent of vitality, the lively appearance of the city even at this hour, and the San Francisco Emperor’s torch hung high—everything was different.

Paintings depicting the Emperor blocking people with torches and pitchforks, the Emperor deep in thought gazing at the strait between San Francisco and Oakland, and most of all, the Emperor parading alone on a rusty bicycle without grand guards or pomp—I wanted to see it all, so I raised my camera.

I didn’t take many photos. While cameras were good for preserving fleeting moments, seeing with my own eyes was still better. These were all scenes I wanted to witness firsthand.

Should I have asked someone to come with me? I’d asked Paulina before coming, but she said she was too busy with her lawyer work. The second person who came to mind… was someone who wouldn’t fit this city at all.

Whew, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Then I looked at the streets again. The San Francisco Empire wasn’t Eden. This city wouldn’t be perfect either.

Still, I thought that the reason this city doesn’t burn might be because it has at least ten righteous people. It was certainly a place more worthy of admiration than others.

People’s expressions were peaceful. They weren’t afraid to be out at night. Mafia probably couldn’t gain a foothold here, and there were no sounds of thugs or fights between unions and hired muscle. Laughter replaced those sounds.

Was it just because it was the eve of the Coronation Anniversary, with many tourists around? Most hotels we passed in Moin’s car had “No Vacancy” signs displayed.

Or could it really be this relaxed and bright all the time? Hypothesis one: Is it because the San Francisco Empire is ruled by the Emperor, recognized as one of the God-President’s representatives?

That didn’t seem like a good hypothesis. Angels were also the God-President’s representatives, and if any American city had the most angels, it would be New York.

No, cities with more angels often had worse public safety. Since arriving in San Francisco, I hadn’t seen the double-winged angels common in New York.

Chicago, another city famous for its angel population, was in an even worse situation than New York. At least in New York, the mafia families avoided direct confrontation.

With so many counterexamples, my first hypothesis failed spectacularly… Instead of forming another hypothesis, I should rest from the fatigue of six hours talking with Draig and find out what spark I came here to steal.

Fortunately, thanks to sleeping for six hours on Draig’s back, I didn’t oversleep. I was able to wake up at five-thirty, a time that even I thought didn’t suit me, when I saw it on the clock.

The night spent sleeping alone was indeed lonely. The bed was soft and comfortable, but an unpleasant chill of solitude clung to my fingertips that had remained outside the blanket.

I should have brought someone I could tease by saying, “You really don’t fit this city at all.” I felt subtly, or perhaps more than subtly, regretful.