Vampires

"Have you had breakfast?"

Just one street away from the house, Sebas had brought Shaya to sit on the chairs outside a restaurant. Two chairs shared one table.

An exquisite glass vase sat on the table. The flowers inside were clearly freshly picked, giving off a pleasant fragrance.

This was an intersection on a major street, with a fairly large open space at the corner where tables and chairs could be set out.

It was called a restaurant, but it was not actually very large. It could only fit a kitchen, and there was barely room for a few tables and chairs inside. That was precisely why the seating had been placed outside.

The kitchen was open, so even from outside, they could see the chef in his uniform skewering sausages and grilling them on a stove beside him.

That was quite novel for this era. Perhaps that was why business here was rather good.

"But even if you have, it doesn't matter. You absolutely have to try the sausages here, the ones the owner grills himself," Sebas said enthusiastically.

A smiling waiter approached from the side and handed menus to Shaya and Sebas.

"Please have a look, gentlemen. Just tell me what you'd like."

Sebas was clearly familiar with the place. He did not even take the menu and simply said,

"I'll have Set A."

"Certainly. Would you like tea?" the waiter asked.

Sebas thought for a moment. "Bring me a cup of black tea."

The waiter wrote on his notepad, then looked toward Shaya.

"The same as him," Shaya said.

"Certainly. Since everything is freshly grilled, please wait ten minutes."

The waiter bowed slightly, then headed toward another table.

"Which one are you taking away?" Shaya asked curiously.

A faint smile appeared on Sebas's lips. "What do you think?"

Shaya looked around. "At the very least, I don't see anyone nearby with death written on their face."

"They haven't arrived yet."

Sebas looked toward the end of the street, and Shaya followed his gaze.

There, a group of uniformed men emerged from a clothing store. Their uniforms differed from those of the secret police, whose dark blue attire was nearly black and gave off a somber impression.

These men wore dark green. Their uniforms resembled military uniforms, though they had no hats. The middle-aged man leading them was somewhat overweight, but fair-skinned and clean-looking. The people in the surrounding shops seemed deeply wary of this group. None dared look directly at them, only stealing glances from the corners of their eyes.

Before long, they arrived at the entrance of the breakfast shop and swept their gazes over the place with scrutiny.

At the same time, a man in his thirties wearing a chef's uniform emerged from the kitchen with a smile, bowing and scraping.

"Director Rick, y-you came personally?"

The man in the chef's uniform was the owner of the shop, Hart Valentine.

"Don't be nervous. I'm just here to take a look."

The plump man called Rick wore a very gentle smile, looking like an exceptionally approachable official.

"This commercial street is something the mayor values greatly. As the director of the Queen's District Commercial Administration Bureau, it is naturally my duty to take responsibility."

"Yes, yes, you're right," Hart replied with a forced smile.

Rick seemed quite pleased with that attitude. He continued in a kindly tone, "How has business been lately?"

"Thanks to you, not bad," Hart said.

Rick nodded. Then one of the uniformed men at his side stepped forward and said,

"Boss, you can't leave the slop bucket outside the entrance. Understand?"

Rick narrowed his eyes slightly.

Hart froze for a moment, then hurriedly said, "I'll deal with it right away, right away!"

"According to the latest Street Management Penalty Act, the fine is two pounds of silver," the uniformed man said.

"What? Two pounds of silver?!" Hart looked anxiously at Rick. "Director, I only left it here temporarily. There's no room in the kitchen. Even if you hadn't come, I was about to dump it!"

Rick appeared rather troubled. He hesitated for a moment, then sighed.

"Hart, rules are rules. Rules are made to be followed. If I waive it for you this time, what about everyone else? That wouldn't be fair, would it?"

Hart's expression turned unpleasant, but even so, he forced out a smile. "Yes, I understand."

The waiter from before came over and began pouring black tea for Shaya and Sebas, though his mind was clearly elsewhere.

He was watching the people in uniform not far away.

Shaya could clearly hear his resentful muttering.

"A bunch of vampires."

"What's your name?"

The sudden voice from the side startled the waiter so badly that he instinctively raised his hand. The spout of the teapot knocked over a cup, spilling tea all over the table. Fortunately, none splashed onto Shaya.

The waiter hurriedly pulled out a cloth and wiped up the water on the table.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to."

As he spoke, he set the cup upright and refilled it.

"It's fine," Shaya reassured him. "You still haven't answered my question."

The waiter came back to himself. "You can call me Heike."

Shaya nodded. Looking at the uniformed men in the distance, he asked curiously, "You just called them vampires?"

Heike's eyes widened slightly, and he immediately began to fidget helplessly.

"Sir... I..."

"Don't worry, I won't repeat it," Shaya said with a smile. "I'm just curious. Do these people come here often?"

Heike fell silent for a moment, then sighed.

"If they merely came often, that would be fine. Every time they come, they find all kinds of excuses to make us pay money."

Perhaps Shaya's gentle tone had temporarily lowered his guard, because he began pouring out his grievances to the two of them.

"The day before yesterday, we paid a public security management fee. Yesterday, they made us pay a city appearance management fee. We've had these tables outside for years, but not long ago they suddenly made us pay rent for using public land.

Do you know how much that fine was just now? Two pounds of silver! That's two weeks of my wages."

Shaya nodded. "That really is too much."

Heike sighed. "Now all we can do is wait. In two more years, the current mayor will retire. Maybe things will change then. If not, we can only move away."

"When the mayor retires, will Director Rick step down too?" Shaya asked, picking up his cup of black tea.

"You don't know the half of it." Heike lowered his voice. "The current mayor is his uncle. Otherwise, he wouldn't dare act so arrogantly.

There used to be a clothing store nearby whose owner kept refusing to pay the fines. Last year, Rick's men smashed the place up. Every piece of clothing was confiscated."

He turned to look around, and after confirming that the group had gone far away, continued,

"That owner kept trying to lodge a complaint with His Majesty the Emperor. He waited outside the palace every day. But a few months ago, his family of three all died in their home. They said it was carbon monoxide poisoning from burning charcoal for heat.

But everyone here knows it must have had something to do with Rick.

The evil he's done over the years goes far beyond that. He has several lives on his hands, and he's ruined many young girls.

I heard a lot of people wrote anonymous letters of accusation and sent them to the palace, but his uncle suppressed every one of them."

Shaya nodded. This did not surprise him. Human society had always been built on connections.

Nor was he surprised that such officials existed. Even in the cleanest room, filth could still hide in places the naked eye could not see.

What surprised him was that this was happening in the Imperial Capital.

As the ancients would say, this was beneath the Son of Heaven's feet.

If they could not even see the grime before their own eyes, it was hard to imagine what the rest of the country was like.

The decay of this empire might be worse than he had imagined.

These things had nothing to do with Shaya for now. But if the coming war truly reached the point where he needed to determine Fate,

then what he had seen and heard would decide where this nation's Fate would ultimately lead.

Shaya said nothing. He merely raised the cup before him, blew away the steam drifting above it, and took a small sip of black tea.

The waiter seemed as though he wanted to say something else, but the shop owner began calling Heike's name, telling him to deal with the slop bucket.

Heike answered and walked over to Hart. He leaned close and said something to the owner, then carried the slop bucket away.

The owner glanced toward Shaya, then went back into the shop. A few minutes later, he came out carrying two plates piled with food and placed them on Shaya's table.

The plates presumably held the Set A meal they had ordered: sausages, fried eggs, and grilled mushrooms drizzled with sauce.

The most tempting part was the sausage. It was large and plump, its casing glistening with oil in the morning sunlight and giving off an enticing aroma.

"I've already heard from our waiter about what happened just now. I'm very sorry, sir. He's still young and gets distracted easily. I'll reprimand him afterward."

"There's no need." Shaya smiled. "After all, it didn't spill on me, did it?"

"Thank you very much for your generosity." Hart bowed, then looked somewhat puzzled at the empty seat across from Shaya. "I remember you had a friend with you. Where is he?"

"Oh, he had some work to take care of," Shaya said.