Outside the Red Rose Restaurant on West Merck Avenue.
Arthur patted the vomiting Scott on the back, his face livid.
"I'm going to expose him... urgh... they actually made me eat maggots... urgh..."
The young reporter cursed between bouts of vomiting.
Beside him, Arthur had clenched his fists.
When they first entered the Red Rose Restaurant, Arthur had felt a faint sense of foreboding. Not only did its name resemble the White Rose Restaurant's, even the decor was somewhat similar. He had suspected then that this lunch would not end well.
But he had never imagined it could be this bad.
The moment the cheese was cut open, the sight of countless maggots writhing inside delivered a visual shock Arthur would never forget.
Of course, Scott had suffered even more.
Faced with the horrifying Casu Marzu Cheese, the young reporter's mouth had fallen open in shock. Then... a translucent, milky-white maggot had leaped straight into his mouth!
The vomiting had followed.
"Bastards... urgh... they actually said jumping maggots proved the cheese was authentic... I'll expose him. I swear I'll expose him!"
Scott had nearly vomited up his bile. Tears and snot streamed down his face, and he swayed when he stood up. But when Arthur moved to support him, the young reporter waved him off.
"Arthur, I'm sorry I've given you such an awful memory!"
"Don't worry. I'll make sure you get a proper explanation for this!"
The young reporter gave Arthur his assurance. Then the kindhearted young man turned a hate-filled gaze on the Red Rose Restaurant.
If murder were legal, Scott swore he would kill that chef and blow up the restaurant while he was at it.
Could anyone understand?
Every time I close my eyes, all I see is those writhing maggots!
This will probably haunt me for the rest of my life!
Scott's face twisted in anguish.
Arthur patted Scott's shoulder in consolation, then said he needed his help.
"What do you need? Just tell me. I'll do everything I can to help!"
Scott, who felt he had let Arthur down, responded at once.
"I need to find a swordsmanship club with genuine skill, not one like the Jorjok Swordsmanship Club."
Arthur explained.
He could not entirely trust what Desi had said after being scared witless, but the Jorjok Swordsmanship Club certainly did not meet his requirements.
Finding a genuinely capable swordsmanship club himself, however, would be a major undertaking that would consume a great deal of time.
Scott was different.
As a reporter, Scott was well informed and particularly good at this sort of thing.
In fact, the young reporter gave his assurance the very next moment.
"Leave it to me!"
With that, the young reporter said goodbye to Arthur.
Lunch had ended before it even began, and Arthur was certain Scott would not be able to eat anything for a while, so he did not stop him.
Only after watching Scott leave did he approach a nearby food cart.
There were food carts on West Merck Avenue too.
Unlike Aivor's "flexible" operation, however, the food carts on West Merck Avenue had to pay rent, generally around two to ten sol a day, depending on their location.
Arthur chose the most normal-looking cart and bought two utterly ordinary egg and ham sandwiches.
He was still wary of words like "exclusive," "specialty," and "recommended," and wanted nothing to do with them.
Once Arthur lowered his expectations, those ordinary sandwiches suddenly became delicious.
The fried eggs had runny yolks, which spilled out with the first bite and mingled with the fragrant ham, giving him a faint sense of satisfaction. Tomatoes and salad dressing added flavor, while lettuce provided texture. Arthur finished each sandwich in barely three bites.
His complete disregard for appearances immediately drew snickers from a nearby man and woman.
"Is he from the countryside or something?"
"His table manners are appalling!"
"And he's carrying a case. Definitely a country bumpkin!"
Clearly eager to impress his female companion, the man pronounced his judgment on Arthur. Then the couple began taking turns feeding each other bites of sandwich.
Arthur ignored them entirely. After wolfing down the rest of his sandwiches, he still felt unsatisfied and bought two more.
One of them, however, was not for him-
Arthur had spotted the beggar again.
Just as he had been yesterday, the beggar was basking in the sun along one side of West Merck Avenue.
Given his suspicions about their "contact" that morning, Arthur decided to test him again.
And food made the perfect excuse.
To Arthur's surprise, before he could truly get close, the beggar, who had been sitting vacantly against a wall in the sunshine, suddenly sprang to his feet. He stared at Arthur in terror and shouted over and over.
"Stay back!"
"Don't come any closer!"
"You monster!"
His shouts startled the nearby pedestrians, who turned toward them in confusion.
Wisely, Arthur did not advance or speak. Instead, he adopted a surprised expression and directed an astonished gaze at the affectionate young couple beside him.
The passersby instinctively followed Arthur's gaze.
The young couple froze.
"It wasn't me!"
"I didn't do anything!"
The young man tried to explain.
But his explanation did no good. Instead, it drew everyone's attention to him.
"Why would you treat an innocent person so rudely?"
"How disgraceful!"
The righteous souls among the passersby began demanding justice.
Once someone started, everyone else promptly joined in the condemnation.
None of them had figured out what had happened in the first place, but they could simply join in the scolding. It let them vent their frustrations while earning other people's respect. Few things could be more satisfying.
But none of that had anything to do with Arthur.
He shrugged and slipped into the crowd without a trace of guilt.
When he looked for the beggar again, the man had already vanished.
What's going on?
Was he really behind last night's dream?
But isn't this reaction a little excessive?
Arthur was puzzled.
Logically, if the beggar had been responsible, he should have continued playing dumb when they met today.
Wasn't such an extreme reaction practically exposing himself?
And if he had not been responsible, why was he so terrified? Arthur was no different from yesterday... wait!
Almost instinctively, the moment that thought surfaced, Arthur looked at his right hand.
The faint stench still lingered on it.
He can smell it!
This smell really is some kind of mark!
Arthur's eyes narrowed at once.
Without hesitation, he began searching for the beggar's trail.
Although he still could not establish the beggar's identity, the fact that the man could detect that smell proved he belonged to the mystical side.
At the very least, he had ties to it!
Arthur knew far too little about the mystical side. Now that he had finally found someone connected to it, he naturally wanted to communicate as much as possible. Yet even after searching the entire length of West Merck Avenue and several nearby streets and alleys three times, he found no trace of the beggar. The man seemed to have disappeared into thin air.
Only when the sun began sinking in the west did Arthur give up for the time being and head toward 2 Kirk Street.
He had just contacted Wiggins and asked him to help with the search.
He believed Wiggins's professional skills and greater manpower would surely produce results.
Arthur would not have been so confident with anyone else from the mystical side, but when it came to this man disguised as a beggar, he had complete faith in Wiggins.
After all, beggars were the people Golden Fingers knew best.
Some Golden Fingers were even beggars themselves.
With high hopes for Wiggins, Arthur once again reminded himself that he had to be doubly cautious these days. He took a deep breath and continued home.
Of course, he had to avoid the alley entrance where Aivor was stationed. He had passed it while searching for the beggar, and Aivor had waved enthusiastically every time, forcing Arthur to respond with a smile.
But that had been unavoidable. Under normal circumstances like these, Arthur chose to steer clear.
Social anxiety and outgoing confidence always found their perfect expression in Arthur.
Just as Arthur passed through Dale Lane and emerged onto Kirk Street, he saw a modified Bloom Carriage parked outside 2 Kirk Street.
At once, Arthur lightly pressed the concealed mechanism with the hand holding the Medium's Case. The hidden compartment opened silently, revealing the two bundles of dynamite inside.
Before you continue