Villainous Bartender

The bartender's astonished expression flashed across his face, quickly masked by the irritation of not wanting to see customers at this hour.

"If you want a drink, old sir... and this Inspector, too."

Mr. Bartender drawled in an exhausting, languid tone, narrowing his eyes as he said slowly, "It's still too early. We haven't got any customers at this hour."

"Ah, and let me say this in advance. The food at our bar is quite a bit more expensive than outside. Don't order something and then complain that it's too expensive... We don't offer refunds."

For some reason, despite having the same elven accent, with its drawn-out vowels and copious glides, Hai Na felt that the bartender's voice lacked the elegance of Iver's butler.

Perhaps it was because some of his vowel transitions were too stiff and distinct. Or perhaps it was because his throat had the hoarseness caused by years of smoking. The moment she heard him, she sensed a distinctly roguish quality.

"How much more expensive?"

Hai Na asked instinctively.

But she soon realized that she was here to investigate. No matter how expensive the food was, she had to order it.

In other words, this was exactly what Butler Oswald's investigation funds were for.

So she immediately changed her question. "What dishes do you have here?"

"Heh..."

Iver, standing in front of her, couldn't help letting out a soft laugh.

Investigating alongside a novice really was a peculiar experience.

Although the Wild Elf bartender had reacted quickly, he couldn't fool Iver. He had deliberately called Iver "old sir," as though he hadn't recognized Iver's identity at all.

But that was impossible.

This elf, whose appearance made him look to be in his thirties, should have been at least a hundred years old. As a Wild Elf, he lived among the common people, while elven blood gave him memory and perception far superior to those of humans.

Even though Iver wore a fully covering cloak, his build could never have been mistaken for that of an old man. Just by observing his shoes and the chin left exposed, the bartender should have been able to recognize him.

If Oswald had come instead of Hai Na, he would have immediately noticed how deliberate the bartender's behavior was.

--A few days ago, when Iver met those two "pen pals," he had come to the Pelican Bar.

And at the time, he had been extremely conspicuous.

The Pelican Bar had been the meeting place specifically designated by those two pen pals. Back then, Iver could still walk normally, move with ease, and boast a strong physique. Since he wanted to conceal his contact with the Demon Scholars, he had come alone to the meeting.

But since this was a place Iver had never visited before, he had set out nearly two hours early and hired a coachman to take him directly to the Pelican Bar.

To be honest, if Iver hadn't hired a coachman, he might not have found the Pelican Bar at all--who would have guessed that the name Pelican Bar didn't actually contain the word "pelican"? When Iver arrived, it was more than an hour before the appointed time of five in the afternoon. But he had already accounted for that, so he brought a book to read.

It was a mystical book written in Stibium Language, Alchemical Cipher. The alchemists of the Path of Equilibrium were deeply concerned that their knowledge might be leaked and upset the balance of the world. Thus, when writing books or communicating with their peers, they used ciphers that outsiders could not understand.

For example, "King," "Queen," and "Queen" hinted at different things. Likewise, "sun" and "moon," "toad" and "wyvern" could all imply something else. And based on the basic principle of "keeping outsiders uninformed," every alchemist used different ciphers. There was no unified consensus or common industry terminology among them.

Each of them had their own codebook, which they secretly taught to their students for decoding. As for sufficiently outstanding peers, they could also understand the intended meaning from the hints.

In other words, "those who understand will understand; those who don't won't understand even if you explain it."

Alchemical Cipher revealed several classic ciphers by example. In one example, the author demonstrated an alchemical process for producing "Antimony Glass." It was an emetic with slight toxicity. By adjusting the ratio slightly, one could instead obtain "Mercury Antimony," a slightly sweet, thick, flowing, highly poisonous substance.

Putting everything else aside, this was knowledge for synthesizing deadly poison! This forbidden knowledge hit precisely the point that excited Iver. Sitting in a corner of the incredibly noisy bar, he read with complete concentration and, in the blink of an eye, it was nearly six. He didn't wake until the two men patted him on the shoulder.

Originally, Iver had only intended to meet them once and leave.

It wasn't that he distrusted them. The security in the Lloyd District truly was poor. If he stayed too late, it might not be safe even if he hired a carriage--the Strangulation Gang had recently thrown everyone into a panic.

But by then, it was already dinnertime. They drank and chatted, growing happier and more excited the longer they talked. So Iver simply used a White Coin to order dinner on the spot and treated his two "friends" to an exceptionally sumptuous meal. He didn't take the change, instead buying the other customers a drink.

--That was because his two friends had assured him that it would be fine even if they left late, as they would escort him home. After dinner, they continued chatting for a long time, and by the time they finally left the bar, it was already past ten.

"Zero minutes past midnight is the best time to summon a demon."

The bald man had said, "Preparing the ritual takes about an hour. And it happens to be that time now... Would you like to try it yourself?"

...It was probably around then that, through those several hours of conversation, he had seen through Iver's burning desire to touch the forbidden. He knew that Iver would certainly refuse the invitation.

Looking back now... they had probably chosen this place deliberately and been late on purpose.

Since it was already mealtime, he had grown hungry, and other customers around them were ordering food. Naturally, he wouldn't go out of his way to find somewhere else to eat.

Then, could the two Demon Scholars of the Noble Red society have specifically chosen to meet him at the Pelican Bar, and even stopped him from taking them elsewhere, because they believed that only this place was absolutely safe?

Furthermore, a handsome, well-dressed young man from the upper class had sat in a cheap bar in the Lloyd District, surrounded by laborers and sailors, and stared motionlessly at a book for two full hours over a glass of light beer not even half a liter in size.

--If so, could a bartender with an excellent memory really fail to remember him? Even if he weren't a Wild Elf but a human bartender, after seeing something so absurd, he would remember it for at least an entire month. He would also use it as conversation material, frequently boasting about it to others or mocking him.

Not to mention that the Pelican Bar's traffic was never particularly high. It didn't even get thirty customers in an entire night.

Therefore, this bartender definitely had a problem.

His deliberate pretense of not recognizing Iver instead proved the fear in his heart. Iver had come wearing a cloak because he didn't want others to identify him. So the bartender followed Iver's wishes, attempting to help conceal his identity as well.

This was meant to lower Iver's guard and keep him steady for the moment. At the same time, he hoped Iver would accept this identity.

If Iver truly wanted to hide his identity, he would follow the bartender's words and pretend to be an "old man."

Then he couldn't openly speak with the bartender, and the two of them would not interact for the time being.

--That would buy him time.

"Mr. Ademar, is it?"

Unexpectedly, the hooded Iver spoke up. "Are you waiting for someone?"

He had heard the bartender's name from the other customers the last time he came.

"...What?"

Hai Na turned back in confusion. "You know him?"

But after taking a look, she failed to see any particular reaction from Iver.

When she turned back, however, she saw obvious astonishment and hesitation on the bartender's face.

At that moment, something stirred in her heart. She faintly felt that she had grasped something.

Before she could ask, Iver let out a soft laugh, as if he had confirmed something.

"Hai Na."

Iver's voice was extremely soft, like that of her superior or a teacher. Not only did he fail to address her politely as "senior apprentice" as he had before, he called her by name directly, like someone in a higher position.

But perhaps precisely because of that, Hai Na, accustomed to obeying orders, instantly became alert.

"Yes!"

She instinctively focused her attention. Taking half a diagonal step forward from behind Iver, she faintly shielded him with her body and waited intently for her next order.

"Draw your sword--"

Iver commanded.

Although she still didn't understand what was happening, Hai Na obeyed Iver's instructions without hesitation. In an instant, she drew the elven sword from its sheath.

The blade slid free like a living thing, and pure white radiance flared from its surface.

A dazzling white light illuminated the already brightly lit bar at midday.

Silver-white halos gradually brightened in Hai Na's originally lake-blue eyes. This was her resonance with the Path of Authority.

The power infused into her bloodline was gradually awakening, and abundant strength poured into every limb and bone. Waves of air howled outward from her as their center, making the bottles on the liquor cabinet sway and clink chaotically and crisply like wind chimes.

The few customers were startled at once. One after another, they abandoned their seats and ran toward the door.

Seeing this, the bartender's expression changed sharply, and his heart jolted.

--I've been exposed? Why? He was shocked and bewildered.

With the situation growing urgent, he chose not to sit around waiting for death.

He took a deep breath. Something bulged beneath his skin, as though worms were writhing beneath it.

Purple patterns began at his lower eyelids and spread across his entire face. Like veins suddenly swelling and changing color, they covered most of his face in a netlike pattern. Only the area around his mouth and chin--the part of his skin where a beard would normally grow--remained uncovered.

As he inhaled deeply, the purple patterns on his face brightened. They grew brighter with every breath in and slowly dimmed with every breath out.

The patterns spread rapidly across his skin like a curse, emerging from his cuffs and crawling all the way to the tips of his ten fingers.

"Demon Scholar--"

Hai Na recognized his identity. Or, more accurately, she recognized it in broad terms.

Supernatural beings could use mystical techniques and various spellcasting materials to wield their supernatural powers outside combat. But to get serious and mobilize Path Power to release powerful supernatural skills from nothing, they had to resonate with their Path.

Everyone's resonance manifested differently, but they all shared one trait: there would certainly be a visual effect in the color corresponding to their Path.

Just as white was the color of the Path of Authority, purple was the color of the Path of Transcendence. The former symbolized diamonds, while the latter symbolized amethysts.

Although she didn't know this Wild Elf's exact profession, he undoubtedly belonged to the Path of Transcendence.

Everything on the Path of Transcendence was illegal! So she might as well treat him as a Demon Scholar--

--Mr. Iver had really found one! Joy surged in her heart.

Although she didn't know how Iver had identified the man's identity, since she hadn't noticed any flaw in him at all.

But once they entered combat, this was her field of expertise! Looking at the Wild Elf bartender covered in purple spiderweb-like patterns beneath his skin... When he saw such an obvious characteristic, Iver finally recalled the man's identity.

The old hand of Sinister Hub Pelican Pub, the Villainous Bartender, Ademar! In his memory, he had been a burly man with arms thick as warhammers, hunched over and bare-chested, his upper body covered in glowing dark-purple patterns--

His image gradually overlapped with that of the Wild Elf, whose body was swelling like an inflating balloon.

--Iver had only wanted Hai Na to scare him a little and put some pressure on him.

He hadn't expected the man to be unable to withstand even that slight pressure and transform directly! This time, they had found the real culprit!