"Atchii!" Ryden pinched the bridge of his nose after the sneeze ripped through him.
He had been forced to inhale a dozen different perfumes since entering the pleasure house. The stench was not to his liking; it was making him sick. He silently cursed the perfume makers.
Why couldn't they just make mild fragrances?
The cloying scents of flowers, fruits, honey, and old parchment hung heavy inside the building. He genuinely wondered how the people living here managed to stay alive in this air.
On the other hand, Akiro was doing fine. He played his part smoothly, using his usual antics on the women. Ryden couldn't tell anymore if Akiro was the one hired to entertain. Since they arrived, he had been busy with women of all ages. It was a pathetic sight, watching him flirt even with the older ones.
To his disgust, the women were easily swayed by words Akiro didn't mean. He handed out praises that were the complete opposite of the truth, yet they were swallowed as facts. It was all fake, unfitting, and a waste of breath.
"Hey, pretty boy!"
Ryden nearly jumped when a woman poked his shoulder with her long, pointy nails.
"Those aren't for sale, but I am," she said, gesturing to the ornaments Ryden had been pretending to check.
He badly wanted to run. She was caked in makeup, and her perfume was so strong it made his eyes water.
"Oh, hi there. I'm just fascinated by the designs here. Are these not allowed to be touched?" He tried to keep his voice steady. He didn't want to offend anyone, even if his stomach was turning.
"Not really. But they won't give you the pleasure only I can provide," she insisted, pressing closer.
Ryden froze. He needed a way to reject her without bruising her ego or causing a scene.
How should Ryden reject her?
"What's your name?" he asked, still trying to be polite.
"Cecilia, my dear."
"A beautiful name, Cecilia. But perhaps another time," Ryden said. "I've been commissioned to guard a certain noble."
He shifted his gaze toward Akiro. "I can't put my own desires over the job, can I?"
He gestured toward Akiro using only his eyes. Cecilia followed his look and sighed.
"Mm... what a pity. You're just standing here salivating over the house's delicacies," she commented, her expression turning sad.
"That is how life works," Ryden replied. "We work for the coin first, then we indulge our desires later."
"Such a good man. You know your way with words, even for someone so young. I've decided to give you a little tip."
The woman tiptoed and pressed a kiss to Ryden's cheek. It felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him. As soon as she walked away, he couldn't hide his displeasure.
He rubbed his face where her lips had landed, but the effort only smudged the red tint of her lipstick across his skin.
"It looks bad," an older woman said, approaching and nodding toward Ryden's cheek. She was the owner of the brothel. "I'm sorry about that. Come with me."
Ryden obliged.
This woman was the one who had sent the request to the guild to solve the mystery of the thefts in her house. Patrons were losing valuables, and so were the hostesses. The owner had even experienced it herself, missing several of her high-value accessories.
She led him to what was supposed to be her office, but the air inside smelled exactly the same as the floor outside.
"Sit here. It won't come off even if you wash it with water," she said.
Ryden sighed before sitting down.
"What is that?" He asked as he watched her open a small bottle and pour a liquid onto a piece of cotton.
"This is a toner for removing makeup. Don't worry, it works well even on sensitive skin."
"Okay."
True to her word, when she applied it, the red tint disappeared.
"Thank you, Madam."
"You're welcome. Have you found any clues yet?" She asked, turning the conversation to the mission.
"Not yet," Ryden replied. "It seems we'll have to stay here all night."
"I understand. If there is anything I can do to help, don't hesitate to ask," she said.
The older woman was kind. It was no wonder her brothel hadn't lost patrons over the years and was only gaining more. Even her workers were diligent.
"Have you found something?" Akiro asked when Ryden stepped out of the office.
He had followed Ryden and the Madam when he saw them heading toward the restricted room, assuming Ryden had something to report.
"Yeah. I found out you're quite popular, mostly with the older women," Ryden said sarcastically.
Akiro grinned. "What, are you jealous? You have the charm, but you don't have the taste for it."
"Tss! There's nothing to be jealous of. I prefer simple, natural beauty—not someone caked in powder and red paint." Ryden narrowed his eyes while scanning Akiro from head to toe. "On the other hand, you'll come in handy if our team ever goes bankrupt."
"Hey! What the hell are you thinking? I'm not that kind of man," Akiro snarled, reading the implication in Ryden's eyes.
Ryden just smirked and walked past him.
"I'll check the rooms," he told Akiro.
"Activities get wilder at night," Akiro noted. "You'd be better off checking at that hour."
"Oh, yeah. That's a clever idea," Ryden answered, waving a dismissive hand.
Though Ryden knew Akiro was referring to the filthier side of the business, he found the suggestion useful. The thief had to choose the right timing—when everyone was either too busy or too unguarded to notice a shadow moving in the rafters.
When the sun set, Nick's carriage stopped at the inn where Erus lived. Nick jumped out of the carriage like a child tasting fresh air for the first time. Erus followed, wearing his usual tired expression—though no one could see it beneath his mask.
"This place hasn't changed a bit," Nick commented.
Erus walked past him, entering the inn and heading directly to the pub. At this hour, the room was packed with guests looking to relax. He noticed they were particularly loud and high-spirited tonight.
Had the keeper found some new booze that hit their taste buds just right?
Erus paused. He noticed a table crowded with men who were shouting with excitement—not because of the drinks, but because of a plate of something weird.
It was a mountain of jagged, golden-brown strips, glistening with grease and dusted with coarse salt and crushed peppers. They looked like gnarled wood or dried leather, but the savory, smoky aroma hitting Erus' nose was undeniable.
"What in the hell is that?" Nick whispered, leaning in.
"Cracklings," one of the hunters barked, shoving a handful into his mouth with a loud, satisfying crunch. "Fried in their own fat until they scream. Best damn thing to hit this pub in years."
Nick's eyes widened, amazed at the food.
"I want to try that, too. You never told me you were enjoying this kind of food here," he told Erus.
"I had no idea they served that," Erus replied, touching the outside shell of his ear under the mask.
Was this the reason so many customers were here? Every table seemed to have a plate of that specific food.
"Hey, it's Nick!" someone shouted. "And Solari!"
"Hey, fellas," Nick waved back, his grin widening.
Erus just looked at them before turning his gaze toward the stairs. He wondered what Cana was doing—she hadn't eaten her supper yet.
One of the waiters found a vacant table for Erus and Nick, waving them over to show them where they could sit.
As soon as Nick sat down, he immediately asked the waiter about the crunchy food, insisting he wanted to order the same thing. Erus, meanwhile, started to space out. He debated going upstairs to bring Cana down to eat with them, but he remembered how flushed she had become when she learned a crowd of men frequented the pub.
"Nikolas, aren't you ordering?" Nick called out, snapping him back to reality.
"Huh? Ah, just the usual," Erus said.
"Actually... Miss Cana has already prepared your dinner," the waiter said.
Erus' lips parted, then closed again. That meant she had gone down to the kitchen to prepare food for him? It wasn't necessary, but the thought lightened his mood.
Nick watched the exchange with total indifference; he simply assumed Cana was one of the pub's cooks.
Suddenly, the atmosphere shifted. The noise died down as the eyes of every man in the room fixed on a single direction.
"Enjoy your dinner," Cana said, placing the ordered food on a nearby table. She smiled hesitantly, noticing the strange way everyone was staring at her.
Erus turned instinctively toward her voice. He was stunned to see her in a waitress uniform. She had changed out of her dress into a sleeveless shirt and long pants—a practical choice, but one that didn't hide her presence.
He couldn't wrap his head around what she was doing. They hadn't harassed her into this, had they?
"Woah! What a beauty," Nick exclaimed, finally seeing the reason for the sudden silence. He gasped quietly when he realized Erus was also staring intently in her direction.
So, the supposedly aloof woman-hater could be affected by beauty after all. No wonder; she was one of a kind. She wasn't just stunning or dashing; she was naturally gifted with a grace that didn't belong in a place like this.
And then, Cana spotted the familiar masked man sitting at the table.
"Oh, Erus!" Her face lit up. "Wait, I'll get your food," she said, before darting back toward the kitchen.
The rest of the room fell into a stunned, heavy silence. Everyone was in shock hearing how casually Cana had addressed the beast they knew only as Solari. That name—his first name—was strictly forbidden. No one dared utter it.
Nick's expression shifted into that of a doomed man. He couldn't bear to see such a young beauty killed or lose a limb for her mistake, but he also knew he couldn't stop Erus if he decided to snap.
But Erus' eyes did not turn crimson. Was he not mad? Or had he simply not heard how she called to him? Would it be possible for someone with three times the normal hearing to be deaf when it was the beauty that spoke?
When Cana returned, she was holding a covered wooden tray. She placed it on the table directly in front of Erus.
While the crowd waited for Cana to be punished, a sweet aroma began to linger in the salty air of the pub. She lifted the cover, revealing thick, juicy pieces of meat that had been seared until the skin crackled at the touch of a fork. The chicken glistened with a glaze of wild honey and forest herbs. Beside it lay a few stalks of honey-roasted carrots, still sporting their green tops. It was a clean, refined meal—a sharp contrast to the greasy, unidentifiable rinds the hunters were shoveling into their mouths at the next table.
Erus was stunned by how the food was arranged. The aroma made his mouth water, but the presentation was so perfect it practically screamed not to be messed with.
"Is it not to your liking?" Cana asked when she noticed Erus hadn't moved. "I was trying to help Letty discover a new menu for the pub, and I decided to specifically cook that one. But I wanted to know first if you'd like the taste," Cana explained. Her words only added more question marks to the heads of the hunters—and Nick.
Nick hadn't closed his mouth for minutes.
"I'll ruin it," Erus answered with a sigh.
Cana instinctively massaged her nape.
"Ruin it or spoil it? You choose."
Erus' eyes shifted from the food to Cana, trying to read if she was actually serious. She didn't look angry. Instead, she looked like a cub begging for milk.
He lifted the chopsticks and started poking at the meat.
"Is this chicken?"
"Yes," Cana answered with a nod.
While some men in the pub knew Cana was with Erus, the others—including Nick—had no idea. Their reactions to how Erus dealt with Cana were hilarious. They looked more doomed than Cana was supposed to be. It was as if they were waiting to witness another act of cruelty from the curse-bearer, but they couldn't even feel his dangerous aura anymore.
When Erus lifted a piece of meat, they stopped breathing. He was immediately taken by the juiciness and slight crunchiness of the chicken; it felt as though it were melting inside his mouth. The taste was heavenly.
Then, he picked up some carrots and mushrooms as well. They blended perfectly with the meat. He could eat it all, even without any grains.
"This is great," he said.
"Whoa???" The reaction erupted from the hunters, Nick included.
Erus had praised food made by someone who had just disobeyed his number one rule.
Cana smiled from ear to ear. Her theory about this world was correct—their tastes were no different from those of humans.
"Thanks, Erus!" She said happily. Her cheerfulness made the crowd fall silent again, but this time, they were in a state of total panic.
The same thought raced through every head in the room. How the hell could she repeat the same mistake again?
"Have you not eaten yet?" Erus asked.
The hunters looked at one another just to make sure they had heard correctly—to ensure they weren't dreaming or hearing things. Nick was equally confused; his forehead was on the verge of developing permanent creases.
"Not yet. We were preparing the chicharon because they ordered a lot. It's a good partner for the drinks."
"Chiron?" Erus was confused. Another weird word from Cana—perhaps an ancient language. "Never mind. Sit here and eat with us," he said instead. He called for another waiter to bring an extra plate and chopsticks.
"But you were with—"
Cana was hesitant, seeing Erus was with someone who looked like a senior to him, but Erus cut her off mid-sentence.
"No buts. You are here to serve no one."
It sounded like a final command, so Cana chose to follow his lead. She didn't want to stir tension between the two of them, especially when their presence already stood in such sharp contrast to the atmosphere of the room.
"Nikolas," Nick finally found his tongue. "You two know each other?"
He had heard the way Erus declared she was bound to serve no one. It was clear now: Erus had no intention of hurting her whatsoever.
"Oh, I forgot. Nick, this is Cana. The apprentice I told you about."
Erus' words passed through Nick's head like an arrow made of ice, freezing him right where he sat.