Ch.44Request Log #006 – Hunting the Hunter (9)

The kobold happily took the wheel. The other employees were more focused on their free future than on the man covered in blood from dwarf and monster fluids.

Wedged between them, I lit another cigarette. The employee next to me pulled out a matchbox from his pocket and lit it for me. Half-reclining between them, we headed toward the factory.

The ogre must have escaped well too, as the factory door was left unlocked and open wide enough for an ogre to pass through. I suppose it’s fine since I saved more people than I killed.

From there, I got out of their car, switched to my own, and headed home. I hoped no one would see me covered in blood at this hour, and fortunately, this cheap apartment building was quiet enough.

To avoid leaving bloodstains in the hallway, I kept my boots on until I reached my apartment. Then I spent until dawn washing myself and removing bloodstains from my clothes. Fortunately, I’m quite skilled at this.

The next morning was… quiet for a workday. The Idealists’ Hive Mind didn’t come looking for me with its terminals, but I couldn’t easily leave my post during work hours.

One person a day, three people in three days—I just needed to track down one more… Was the Hive Mind doing its job properly? I called the National Idealist Union again.

After two rings, a terminal answered. I hadn’t noticed until now, but they all sounded exactly the same when answering. They were just machines made of flesh.

“Yes, National…”

“Put the Hive Mind on. It’s Husband.”

I had run out of empathy for victims of the same spell. As soon as it heard my voice, the Hive Mind connected to the terminal to take my call.

“What is it, detective? I’m… not in great shape today. That businessman’s consciousness you handed over yesterday—his fear was so overwhelming that I couldn’t quite grasp it. Damn.”

So it’s affected by the state of the consciousnesses it devours. That was something new I hadn’t considered.

If I ever needed to oppose the Hive Mind, I could feed it consciousnesses in poor condition. Drug addicts’ minds would be perfect.

It’s best to be kind to everyone while carrying a big stick, and to have a way to kill if things go wrong. Everyone else probably prepares something similar, so it’s not particularly underhanded.

“Keep doing what you’re doing anyway. The West Virginia situation will get complicated without your cooperation. Or I could just end it here and you can pay me. I still get paid on your rest days.”

“No, that won’t be necessary. You can be quite brutal in your methods sometimes, but you’re not lacking in ability. Strike while the iron is hot. I’ll handle it while I have a capable detective.”

It was quite amusing to hear talk of ability when there would be no work today. Most clients in this situation would say, “I’ll deduct today’s pay.”

Should I consider it better to have a boss who doesn’t let me work myself to death? It would be strange if a Red took contract workers lightly.

“Just keep working on what I told you, and contact me if you get any information.”

I hung up. The blood-stained clothes were drying, so I put on another shirt and coat and got up. There was something I needed to do if I had time. Somewhere with alcohol, in fact.

I picked up the invitation with the black bird that the fairy—or something beyond that—had left when it visited my home. On the opposite side of the black bird was an address.

It was an address in Little Eire, where the Irish mafia gathered. Yes, I’d go there for a drink first… and if I could hire a woman too, I’d relieve some stress in her arms. Everyone needs rest sometimes.

As the weather was getting warmer, I changed into a thinner coat and a lighter hat before heading out. I got in my car and drove to Little Eire.

The Street of Light was more modest during the day. No matter how brightly it shone, it was overshadowed by the sunlight. I navigated the unfamiliar streets following the address on the invitation.

I didn’t get lost. To tail someone, you need to know how to navigate unfamiliar routes skillfully. I stopped when I saw a sign with the same black bird that was drawn on the invitation.

“Nothing stands out in glittering Little Eire quite like a black bird.”

Even though it was daytime, there was a doorman, so it seemed to be open. As I was about to climb the stairs, I heard an old man’s voice from behind me. When I turned around… it was coming from a street vendor.

It was a small fruit juice stand, and the vendor was calling me while holding out a glass of freshly squeezed juice. I had no intention of spending money on juice when I was going to drink alcohol.

As if reading my thoughts, the old vendor spoke in an almost whisper:

“You seem unfamiliar with Little Eire, so this is my welcome gift to you as an old man welcoming you to our Street of Light… Have a drink, won’t you?”

If it’s free, there’s no reason to refuse. The stand looked clean enough, and I had no desire to reject the kindness of this seemingly innocent old man. I accepted the glass of juice.

“Thank… you?”

I couldn’t tell what it was made from, but it tasted like milk. Is there a fruit that tastes like this? I glanced suspiciously at the vendor before drinking it all.

It seemed to be good for me. Somehow… my eyes, stiff from staying up until dawn, felt clearer. The old man smiled as I returned the cup.

“Well, well. What’s your first impression of Little Eire? Do you like it?”

“It’s not… bad, I guess. And it’s my second time.”

Leaving the smiling old man behind, I climbed the stairs to the bar with the black bird sign. I showed my invitation to the doormen guarding the entrance.

“I received an invitation, but I’d like to know the name of the bar before going in. Can you tell me?”

“It’s Bar Mare. But how did you get an invitation without knowing the name of the bar? You’re not a cop who stole an invitation…”

It was natural for the doormen to be suspicious about me not knowing the bar’s name. But then the door opened from inside, and the black-haired woman I had seen before whispered:

“I gave it to him. Indeed, I never told him the name. He’s a verified guest, so let him in. Quickly?”

With those words, a hand flowed out from the door and turned one doorman’s chin to face the woman inside. But something was strange. If her arm reached that far, her body should have been visible, but it wasn’t.

Soon the door closed again, and the doorman, stroking his chin, lowered his voice as if directing his annoyance at me.

“Damn, you could have been clear about who invited you. Still… if you’re her guest, there’s no reason to stop you. Go in. She’ll be in the innermost room, and if someone offers you hospitality, don’t refuse it.”

I had a strange feeling and turned around. The street vendor who had given me juice had completely disappeared. It was an unsettling feeling.

“Was that juice also part of the extended hospitality?”

“You’re quick-witted. Yes, that’s right. Anyway, just go in.”

I had no idea what was happening. Still, I stepped into the bar. The air inside was… peculiar. There was a subtle fragrance in the air, though no incense was burning.

It wasn’t the smell of alcohol. I could smell alcohol better than the dogs the Prohibition agents brought along, so I could be sure of that. The doorman had mentioned the innermost room.

There was another staircase at the back of the bar, and as I headed toward it, a young woman who looked like a bar employee approached me with a white cocktail on a silver tray. It was a Silver Bullet.

“I was told to offer you a drink when you came in. Have one before going upstairs. We open from daytime here, and we use good spirits… I’m sure you’ll find it tasty.”

“Ah, yes… well. If it’s on the house, thank you.”

They said not to refuse hospitality. I awkwardly expressed my gratitude again and downed the free drink.

I thought it wouldn’t be as good as the Silver Bullet made with fresh cream at Bar Two Face, but I was wrong.

The cream had an amazingly deep flavor. As I savored it, I felt the fatigue from my sleepless night wash away. It was the sensation I always felt when drinking cold alcohol.

When I tried to return the glass, the waitress who had handed it to me was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a furry bartender who had been wiping glasses at the bar tapped the counter in front of him, so I placed the glass there and went upstairs.

Damn, I felt like I was being toyed with again. That woman… she must be a deity. I didn’t know much about Irish deities, but I could instinctively tell she was dark and had something to do with war.

Was it all her doing—my eyes no longer feeling dry, my fatigue being relieved? America had many gods besides the God-President. Gods who came to live here through the God-President’s mercy.

There was only one condition for their immigration to America: they couldn’t be worshipped. That’s how gods, even after losing their homelands, could survive and use some of their powers in America.

This black Irish goddess must be one of them. If I had known this would happen, I should have studied mythology a bit… unfortunately, I had little interest in history.

Anyway, she didn’t seem to mean me harm. I went up another floor. I saw a door leading to an office, and since there was no one guarding it, I opened it and went inside.

The interior was quiet, with a long corridor leading to a single room at the end. The inside was larger than the building appeared from outside. Yes, she was definitely a deity.

I walked down the corridor and opened the door at the end. There was what looked like a reception room, the bar owner’s office. As I sat at the guest table, an old woman appeared behind me. She was different from the street vendor.

“Are you looking for her? Ah, she’s not here at the moment… Here, have a drink while you wait.”

This time it was a glass of real milk. A glass of juice that tasted like milk, a cocktail with milk-based cream, and now a glass of real milk… I didn’t know what she wanted, but I accepted the cup.

“Ah, yes. Thank you. And I’d appreciate it if you could bring some explanation about what this is all about.”

With those words, I drained the milk from the cup. My body, stiff from fighting such a strong monster yesterday, refreshingly relaxed. All my muscles felt as comfortable as if I’d taken a half-bath.

And the old woman who had been holding the tray before me had somehow transformed into the woman I had seen in the parking lot. Were all three of them this woman? I put down the cup in displeasure.

Seeing my expression, the goddess giggled softly and whispered:

“Don’t say you wouldn’t have accepted if you had known the hospitality came from me. Such a rigid and fierce child doesn’t live long. Ah, how I miss him.”

“No, who would refuse hospitality from a deity who isn’t worshipped? What I wanted to say was that you should at least reveal your name before pulling these stunts. So what’s your answer?”

There was no need to respect gods other than the God-President anyway. The people of Little Eire respected her only because she had been their deity.

“Please call me The Morrígan. And stunts? While I don’t dislike dogs, isn’t that a rude word to say to a goddess? Even Culann’s hound died for being disrespectful to me.”

“It seems easier for dogs to die than people, but seeing as I’m still alive, that doesn’t seem to be the case. Why would someone who doesn’t even attend the God-President’s church revere another deity?”

The Morrígan walked slowly to the office chair, sat down, and smiled brightly. In that smile, I could see the Argonne Forest. I felt the lingering presence of monsters like those I had seen yesterday.

“Well, I’m more human than that. I lured you here, made you accept my hospitality… and I’m smiling despite your rudeness. Isn’t that enough?”

She’s the type who answers questions with questions. The kind I don’t like talking to for long, and since she clearly called me here to assign some task, I preemptively blocked her.

“I’ve already taken on a job, and I don’t take two jobs at once. So if you want to hire a detective, go to Blingkerton.”

“Oh, is that so? I was hoping to offer you enough hospitality to hire you for a job… That’s unfortunate. You’ll take the job as soon as you finish your current one, won’t you, Husband?”

I didn’t ask how she knew my name. Beyond being a goddess, she was probably above the fairy council, making her the boss of the Irish mafia. It’s no challenge for a mafia boss to investigate a detective’s background.

“I’ll probably spend a day or two rolling around with women at Iris or Pandemonium before getting back to detective work. You can call me after that.”

While Iris had somewhat more modest women, Pandemonium competed on value for money.

It was full of succubi, one of the crossbreeds of demons… it wasn’t hard to figure out why they were called that.

They had no special abilities, but they reproduced quickly and had strong sexual desires—it was obvious what species they were crossbred with. Either way, both places had plenty of good women.

The Morrígan smiled and nodded. Then she whispered words that felt like a dagger thrust:

“Is it for pleasure, or because you need warmth? Using brothels for the latter seems like such a waste of money.”

“I don’t recall asking whether you’re doing this to me because of déjà vu or loneliness. Right? Everyone has their limits.”

The Morrígan placed her hand on her chest in apology. I couldn’t understand why she was being so kind to me. Still, if I was going to buy goodwill, I might as well do it properly.

Goodwill can be exploited. Since people don’t properly know how much they like someone, if you make requests of someone who offers you goodwill, you can usually get what you want within reasonable limits.

“Anyway, if you want to assign me work, contact me here after my current job is finished. If you want to make a reservation… I’d like something that lets me sleep without dreams. Even with diminished divinity, you should be able to do that much.”

The Morrígan, still smiling, handed me a small container with three pills. I took it.

“Take one anytime, and you’ll sleep well until the next morning. Sleep wears the face of death but is not death, so you’ll also learn what it means to sleep like the dead.”

It seemed like I’d received something ominous again, but while gods are good at smiling, they don’t openly try to torment humans. The Morrígan was probably that kind of goddess. Probably.

After receiving the medicine, I went home and swallowed one pill as soon as I got into bed. I fell into a death-like sleep and woke up hungry the next morning. Yes, that’s exactly how it went.

It was the first time I’d slept more than four hours since receiving that baptism in the Argonne Forest. Whatever else, I was definitely ready to work.

Yes, investing a day in a goddess isn’t such a bad thing after all.