"Fresh chicken! Chicken breast, 25 pfennigs a pound; leg meat, 40 pfennigs a pound!"
"Cabbage, 4 pfennigs a pound! Parsnips, 3 pfennigs a pound! Big, red-hearted beets—two pounds for just 7 pfennigs! Apples, 4 pfennigs a pound; buy three pounds and get one free! And freshly imported artichokes, already sliced, going cheap at 18 pfennigs a pound!"
"White sausage with mashed potatoes, plus sauerkraut and dark beer, for only 30 pfennigs! Just 30 pfennigs a serving!"
Although Blackwater Town had only about five thousand permanent residents, its shopping streets were still bustling with activity in the early morning. Lude had eaten quite a bit the previous night, but the aromas wafting from the street stalls still tempted him to consider sitting down for a simple breakfast.
After all, Lude was a gourmet. Denying him good food was as good as killing him.
As for why Lude was here... He had spent all night studying the documents, and only remembered that morning, just as he was about to put his knowledge into practice, that he had run out of kerosene and a whole host of other materials.
So he had no choice but to make time for a trip to the market. He could also see if there was anything else he needed.
Just as Lude was about to find a place to sit down, a small figure caught his eye. He froze for a moment, then walked up behind her and patted her shoulder. "Miss Sally?"
"Ah!" Sally cried out and sprang away like a startled rabbit.
Watching Sally leap backward into a dark alley and hide behind a trash can, peeking out with one eye, Lude couldn't help laughing helplessly. "Miss Sally, I don't think I look that scary."
"Ah..." When Sally realized it was Lude, something seemed to come to mind, and her cheeks immediately flushed.
She pressed her lips together and patted the dust off her clothes. Then she ran up to Lude barefoot, her feet pattering against the ground, and said sheepishly, "Sorry, Mr. Hastings. I... I didn't realize it was you."
"It's all right." Lude picked up a tomato from a stall and held it out to her. "Want some?"
"N-no, thanks..." Sally hurriedly waved her hands, but her stomach let out an untimely growl, making her look even more embarrassed.
"Ha..."
Lude chuckled. After a moment's thought, an idea came to him. He pressed a hand to Sally's shoulder and said without giving her a chance to refuse, "Come on. You must be starving. You're at the age where you're still growing, so you can't skip breakfast."
"Don't worry, it's on me."
The word "treat" seemed to have some sort of magic.
Sally's feet, which had seemed rooted to the spot, started moving at once, and she followed Lude.
The morning market was a riot of activity, with early risers pouring in from every direction.
Many businesses had set out tables and chairs on the street to expand their operations.
Lude soon picked a restaurant.
These days, there were no ready-made meals, so small restaurants usually served only a handful of dishes.
Some places even offered just one set meal, like the one Lude was visiting now.
"Ham, cheese, and arugula in a sandwich, with a cup of chicory coffee. Twenty pfennigs?"
"That's a reasonable price," Lude thought, reaching for his wallet to pay.
Just then, Sally suddenly tugged on his sleeve.
"What's wrong?" Lude turned and asked.
Sally frowned, looking around uneasily. "Mr. Hastings, I feel..."
She stumbled over her words for a moment before continuing. "I feel like someone was watching us just now. And not just glancing our way in passing, but... staring right at us. You know what I mean?"
Then she added, "But it's only a feeling. I can't..."
She lowered her head. "Mr. Hastings, I mean, my sixth sense is especially sharp, so sometimes I pick up on a lot of strange things. But I can be wrong, too, so..."
Lude didn't respond to what she was saying. Instead, he grabbed her shoulder. "Let's go."
"Go?" Sally froze for a moment, then Lude pulled her away from the stall with a hand on her shoulder.
"Sir, you believe me?" Sally asked, unable to hide her disbelief.
Lude nodded and lowered his voice. "I've always believed that intuition is the soul warning a person of danger."
"Besides, there really is someone trying to kill me, and you may know them well."
"Know them?" Lude's words always managed to leave Sally stunned. But before she could react, he had already dragged her to the entrance of a somewhat more respectable restaurant.
At the entrance, the waiter took one look at Sally's bare feet and shoddy clothes, frowned, and put out his hand.
"Sir, we don't serve people like her—"
The restaurant's attendant frowned and reached out to reprimand them, but before he could finish, a roll of purple banknotes cut him off.
The expression on his face blossomed at once. "...Honored guests, how could you possibly lower yourselves to sitting in the main dining room? We have a private room available. Let me show you the way!"
"Third floor," Lude said, glancing at the building. "A window seat. A private room, not a booth."
"Of course, sir."
Won over by money, the restaurant attendant welcomed Lude upstairs with a professionally cheerful smile.
The restaurant stairs were greasy from years of smoke and cooking fumes. Sally frowned as she walked up them, imagining how difficult it would be to wash her feet when she got home.
Just then, Lude spoke in a low voice. "Miss Sally, remember: if you think someone is following you, you can try going somewhere less crowded to confirm it."
"Of course, that's only if you're sure you can handle the enemy and intend to find out who they are. Otherwise, try to get somewhere crowded and see if the throng can help you disappear."
As they spoke, they arrived at a private room on the third floor.
Lude closed the door behind them and looked out the window. "Miss Sally, do you still feel like someone's watching you? If you do, from which direction?"
Sally looked out the window and shook her head with a frown. "I can't feel it anymore... Sorry, Mr. Hastings. My intuition really is just intuition, so sometimes it's not very reliable."
"Even a moment of insight is enough. It's a gift. Don't waste it."
As he spoke, Lude slipped his right hand inside his coat and gripped the handle of his revolver.
Firearms were dependable. They made a lot of noise, so they weren't as subtle as Lude's fists, but an enemy Lude could kill with a punch could usually be taken down with a single shot, too.
The same was true of Lude himself.
Ordinary small-caliber pistols didn't do much to him,
but a bolt-action rifle could pierce his skin and muscle, and might even break his bones.
Lude thought to himself, If only I had Lion Dragon scales.
Better yet, give me its claws, fire-breathing, and flight all at once.
Bang, bang, bang!
Just then, there was a knock at the door, followed by the attendant's voice. "Sir, may I come in? Your meal is ready!"
"Come in," Lude said, gripping the revolver and preparing to attack.
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