A Chance Encounter in the Library

"Werner?"

"Yes."

Seapeak Port's library also served as an archive. A long time ago, there had not been a separate library at all—the library and city hall had occupied the same building.

Later, after a wealthy merchant used the donation of a library building as a bargaining chip to escape the death penalty, Seapeak Port finally got a library of its own.

The library was a four-story wooden building, wedged between an inn and a bakery.

Since it had been established relatively late, the library, like the Black Mountain Merchants' headquarters, stood on the outskirts of the city.

It wasn't a day of rest, so there was hardly anyone inside. The only staff member on the first floor was a youth with a ring of fuzz around his mouth.

The youth looked at the boy in front of him, who was handing over a library card. The boy stood only a little taller than the counter and looked no different from those little brats on the streets who did nothing but run wild.

The youth opened the library card and glanced over the faded photograph. Then he braced one hand on the desk and looked at the boy standing before the counter.

"Is this you?"

Heka glanced at the finger pointing at the photograph and decisively pushed over a copper coin.

The youth flipped his hand, and the copper coin on the desk immediately slipped into his sleeve.

Heka took back the library card and turned to look at the Black Mountain Merchants' member watching from the street corner. Only after confirming that the man was properly protecting his safety did he continue, placing a second copper coin on the desk.

"I want to look for some historical records."

The youth had already retreated behind the counter and resumed reading the book in his arms. He raised his eyes slightly.

His hand quickly came down on the copper coin Heka was holding down. When he realized Heka had no intention of letting go, he tugged hard toward himself. Unfortunately, Heka had it pinned firmly, giving him no chance.

The youth simply flopped back into the chair behind him, though his eyes slipped past the spine of the book in his hands and fixed on Heka.

He looked exactly like a sharp dealer watching a customer walk away—unwilling to lose the business, yet still hoping to squeeze out a little more profit.

"Take it or leave it."

Heka tapped the desk with the copper coin.

"Without me, you'd spend several days looking. Three coppers—it's practically saving you three days' worth of admission fees."

"I already have a library card. Is your admission fee even legitimate?"

Heka still didn't know whether he could get the Black Mountain Gang to reimburse him for this. He was spending his own money, so if he could bargain, all the better.

"Then I have to ask first—your library card, is it legitimate?"

The youth gave the boy before him a sidelong glance, then shifted his gaze back to the book in front of him.

Heka's brows instantly knitted together, but he forcibly smoothed them out.

It really does seem a little illegitimate. After all, the Black Mountain Merchants, an organization with half a foot in the underworld, had prepared the card for him.

Heka opened the card and looked it over. The photograph of the man on it was almost worn away. Judging by its appearance, it had probably been used for many years. Could it be that, whenever someone in the Black Mountain Merchants needed one, they temporarily found someone to "borrow" it from?

The youth looked at the three copper coins laid out on the desk and, satisfied, tucked them into his clothing. Then he pointed toward the second floor.

"That stuff's in the archive. Turn left on the second floor; it's the first room."

The second floor of the library was cramped. Oil paintings in gilt wooden frames hung along both corridors.

The corridors, ventilated only by two small windows at either end, carried a stale air, and the floorboards creaked beneath every step.

Heka reached the room the youth had mentioned. After pushing open the door, he found a modest table and row upon row of bookshelves stretching all the way to the ceiling.

It was obvious, however, that the library was short-staffed. Some books had simply been bundled together in stacks with rope and dumped on the floor.

Heka moved aside the documents blocking the entrance and then came to the bookshelves piled high as mountains.

I'll start by searching chronologically. From the earliest records to the latest—let's see if I find anything.

Valin (1279/10000)

As it turned out, you could only know whether an ability was useful after using it. Heka rose and stretched before nightfall.

I can take my time with this. There's no need to rush the progress. What matters is making the Black Mountain Merchants believe I'm working.

I still have to get up early tomorrow for morning training. The gains from that training are what truly deserve my effort.

Heka looked at the books he had preliminarily sorted and nodded in satisfaction.

The documents here had still been somewhat organized sixty years ago. They had been cataloged by their initial letters, and most of the documents on the shelves followed that system.

That was around the time this library had been established. Someone must have carefully organized everything back then.

The later documents had first been categorized according to the old method. Then, around fifty years ago, the administrators here had apparently started slacking off. The documents were shoved into whatever gaps they could find, until eventually they were simply dumped in the corners, reaching the point where they would be ignored as long as they didn't fall over.

That happened to suit Heka's needs perfectly. Most of the documents piled in the corners were newspapers and copies of administrative orders, with little to do with dungeons.

Without realizing it, this reduced Heka's workload.

By the time he left that evening, it had already begun to grow dark outside. When Heka came downstairs, he saw the youth outside, preparing to lock the door.

The youth met Heka's eyes through the doorway. After a moment, he awkwardly scratched his head.

"I thought you'd already left."

Heka watched the youth, who was clearly eager to get home, disappear around the street corner. He himself stood there blankly, staring at the utterly empty street opposite him.

Did he just leave me here?

What happened to the people who were supposed to protect me?

If Tuft of Hair hadn't still been at the Black Mountain Merchants' headquarters, Heka would absolutely have slipped away.

But considering that Tuft of Hair would probably end up dead if he ran, and that fleeing now might even bring down a real—entire-city manhunt, while he still had no idea how deep the waters ran around the port, he could only wait for now.

Heka looked up at the gloomy sky. It looked like rain was coming. I hope the Black Mountain Merchants realize quickly that they've misplaced someone.

Kaso staggered through the headquarters' gates, a wine bottle dangling from his hand. Then, relying on instinct, he threw himself onto the bed.

That was a great drinking session. No one came to bother me. I feel like I forgot something, though. What was it again? Forget it. Whatever it was, anything they'd entrust to me couldn't have been important.