A Near-Capture During a Rendezvous

Rorschach kept reading the newspaper and found that the second page was filled with advertisements. Even though they were all tiny classified ads, he read them with great interest.

First, they helped him learn about popular goods and local prices. Second, according to the bald boss's arrangements, the agency would contact him through newspaper ads.

There really was one? Rorschach looked closely and found an advertisement for the Pachalucca Trading Company in the bottom-right corner. In Yabberish, Pachalucca meant light and summit, or lofty.

Ordinary people would assume the trading company's founder was a follower of the God of Light and Order, while agency members would share a knowing smile at the strange name. Bald? Wasn't that their boss?

Rorschach quickly finished his bread, rolled up the newspaper, and returned to his dormitory. He took out the codebook from his storage ring and checked it: Green Wave Tea House, east bank of the river, three o'clock in the afternoon on the fifth.

Tea houses were scattered throughout Valuana. They were not like the tea houses from his previous life where people avoided discussing national affairs, but shops that brewed you a cup of herbal tea and mainly sold desserts.

The fifth? That was today. Rorschach did not copy down the decoded message. He simply put away the codebook and memorized it.

"Everyone, look over here. These are the ruins of the bathhouse where Hero King Odov bathed when he passed through Valuana. That magnificent building beside it is the Royal Theatre."

The boatman doubled as a tour guide, introducing the riverside sights to his passengers. The Seine River ran through Valuana and connected the major cities in the north of the Holy Kingdom.

After leaving the Tower of Stars, Rorschach boarded a sightseeing boat on the Seine River and occasionally compared the scenery with his map.

"Sir, this is my stop."

"Alright, everyone, hold steady." The boatman poled the boat toward the shore. The banks along the section of river passing through the royal capital had been renovated, not only reinforced against floods but also made convenient for boarding and disembarking.

Rorschach counted out several copper coins, the agreed price from before he boarded. "Thanks." After paying, he stepped onto the stone embankment.

The crossed mark on the map was right before his eyes.

Green Wave Tea House sounded rather tacky, but it seemed to be extremely famous in the royal capital. When he asked the apprentices at the tower, a local immediately pointed out its location on the map.

"This tea house is frequented by playwrights and literary giants. If you're lucky, you might even see popular actors rehearsing scripts. Valuans jokingly call it the real backstage of the Royal Theatre."

Those were the apprentice's exact words. Rorschach approached the small tea house and chose a good window seat with a view of the river.

"I'm waiting for someone... Bring me a cup of sweetened hay tea first, then pudding and meringues... That'll be all."

"Yes, sir."

As the first dessert was served, a man in a top hat came over to sit across from Rorschach. Without asking, he took a seat and placed his hat on the chair beside him.

The beard seemed fake... "Brother Falcon?"

"What kind of address is that? You can call me Mr. Falcon here." Brother Falcon surveyed the surroundings. The shop was currently full of idle young people chatting away, while the tea house's string music blended the conversations at each table into an indistinguishable background murmur.

"Waiter! A cup of nettle tea, extra sugar, and a berry tart. That'll be all."

"You pay for your own order. So, what is it?" Rorschach spoke only after the waiter had walked away.

"Did you see the front-page news?"

"I did."

"A few pieces of that shipment you delivered ended up in our hands. The organization needs you to decipher them and report their contents."

Rorschach spooned some pudding into his mouth. The ratio of egg to milk was just right, creating a delicate texture, while the flavor of the melted caramel was even more exquisite. The wonderful sweetness seemed to speed up his thoughts, and a sudden guess came to him.

"The Nameless Heroes were you two?" He had not expected the Empire's Intelligence Agency to come to the kingdom to perform good deeds!

"Sigh, doing good without leaving a name behind... We arranged this meeting to tell you that after you arrive in the royal capital, the organization will provide your monthly allowance through the Pachalucca Trading Company.

Under the pretext of purchasing scrolls and Alchemical Potions, you can make whatever you want, and we'll buy it at inflated prices. You can also pass information through the scrolls and potions you 'sell.'"

"If the trading company gets investigated, wouldn't that expose everything at once?" Rorschach frowned.

"That's only the first layer. The second layer is that your fake transactions with the company won't go through its official accounts. Instead, they'll be private transactions between you and an innocent employee. According to the script, you met on the Black Market, and your scrolls and potions will all flow into the Black Market.

To outsiders, it'll look like you're trading on the Black Market and using a company employee as an intermediary, borrowing the company's name to launder the proceeds from your Black Market transactions. Pachalucca won't have any actual connection to it.

If they really investigate, that employee might get unlucky and be arrested for falsifying accounts and tax evasion, but they won't be able to do anything to a Spellcaster from the Tower of Stars like you."

"The Holy Kingdom's relevant authorities aren't idiots."

"Exactly. But as long as you aren't conclusively labeled a spy or charged with something like subverting the throne, you'll be fine. That extra layer gives you room to clear yourself. Who told you to become a mage?"

Rorschach accepted the arrangement. "Alright. Where are the goods? Let me take a look."

"Come with me."

"You might as well just have me go directly to wherever you hid them!"

"How could we publish the location of a safe house in the newspaper? Even if it's encrypted. Haven't you noticed I'm alone? Night Owl is helping us check whether anyone followed us."

Rorschach hurriedly finished his meringue and left the tea house with the man. Before leaving, he noticed that many young people had gathered in the tea house at some point. One apparent leader climbed onto a table, seemingly preparing to give a speech.

"Mr. Falcon" led Rorschach through one alley after another, sometimes having to step over drunk, trouserless men.

"Cops!" Scouting Falcon sounded a little nervous. Looking out from the alley, Rorschach saw a full squad of black-uniformed officers on the main street. They were the Security Team, a rank above the guards.

"They might be heading to Green Wave Tea House."

"Are they after us?"

Rorschach shook his head and had Brother Falcon continue leading the way. He thought of the young people gathered in the tea house.

Then Rorschach remembered what Kano had said: Valuana hadn't exactly been peaceful these past few years. You absolutely, absolutely must not take part in activities where, well... radical young people gather.

"We're here." Scouting Falcon knocked on the door, three short knocks followed by one long one. Night Owl then opened the door for them.

"Brother Rorschach, give us a hand." Six sets of leather armor and a pair of leather gloves had already been laid out inside, all bearing scorched marks.

Rorschach first tried Frost Touch on the gloves, but nothing happened. Then he tried the leather armor, and sure enough, there was something there.

"What's the principle behind this? A revealing spell?"

Rorschach shook his head. "If it were hidden with a spell, a divination-type reading spell could detect it quickly."

"Then it's..."

"A temperature change. They may have used some special alche... alchemical reagent. It doesn't require magic power and only becomes visible at low temperatures." As he spoke, he pressed Frost Palm against the leather armor, leaving a palm print covered in writing.

"Quick, what does it say?"

Rorschach glanced over it. It was still the familiar manuscript, the familiar handwriting, and the familiar long-winded self-praise of a genius. He read aloud as he looked.

At last, they reached the crucial part. "Whether through manpower or current Magic Devices, the required channel width and frequency-sweeping speed cannot be achieved..."

"And then? Why did you stop?" Night Owl, who was taking notes, could only stop writing.

"That's all. The rest seems to have been burned beyond recognition."

There was actually more: a line of small writing in ancient Yabberish, a language studied only by nobles, priests, and the Mage Guild:

But I found the perfect crystal! Oscillating Quartz! As long as the injected magical flux exceeds the threshold, it can block all magic!