Chapter 11
“If you’re going to commission magical tool creation from a wizard, looking into the Padwin family would be your best bet. Since they’re people who are difficult to match even through broker introductions, I don’t know how you could meet them either. You’d probably have to go to Lamarian… or well, you could try waiting for the steam cars that go in and out of the Arancel factory district at night. Though you’d be risking your life.”
Even regarding the Padwin family, who rumor said you should never encounter and should run away if you met them, the merchants were favorable. Was it because they were close with Lamarian wizards?
But whether they harmed people or not, commissioning from the Padwin family—the pinnacle of magical engineering that the book “About Wizards” had praised throughout—seemed like an impossible proposition.
Along with the pessimistic story that paying for it would be difficult with factory wages.
Priscilla became bitter at the premonition that she might have to spend all her life savings deposited in the bank.
If she took that money and invested or did business in Lamarian, it would make excellent capital, but after fixing her arm, she might have to start over from the bottom.
What good would regret do? She had to do what she could right now.
Priscilla ended up having to spend the whole day going around shops to find out the going rates for brokers. The amounts varied drastically depending on the type of wizard they could introduce. Among them were wizards who specialized in assassination, where just meeting them cost thousands of francs and the retainer fee was even steeper.
And wizards who took custom orders to create needed items or materials were equally expensive. Because most of the items they handled were illegal weapons or drugs. Since Priscilla hadn’t brought a large sum of money right away, she just received a business card from a broker called ‘J’ and postponed the opportunity for later.
“Wow.”
She spent the remaining time purely sightseeing at the largest general store in Arancel. From colorful ornaments to mysterious gems imbued with power, there seemed to be nothing they didn’t have.
There were also pretty decorative pieces made of silver-plated metal for prosthetic arms. They were in the form of sturdy bracers that covered from the elbow to the fingertips, with intricate patterns carved into them that looked quite splendid when they caught the light. Looking up at such gorgeous machines hanging on the shop walls made her gasp in admiration. The ones with thorns or blades attached to the fingertips seemed almost god-crafted.
Instead of carrying around a cheap hunk of scrap metal that couldn’t even move anyway, wouldn’t it be fine to just attach some light, elegant-looking decorations? They didn’t seem that expensive either…
Her eyes, wide with excitement, spun around the shop ceiling.
Priscilla felt her heart race just knowing such perfect metallic objects could exist. Gorgeous dresses and jewels were certainly sparkly and pretty, but to her eyes, well-honed sharp weapons and gun barrels were more beautiful.
While her gaze had been wandering like this for quite a while, something completely black and far from sparkling intruded into her vision.
Crash—the mood of Priscilla, who had been in a fantasy land, shattered into pieces.
Surely she was seeing things wrong? But the thought was brief, as the man walking around the shop was uniquely tall and didn’t easily disappear from her field of vision.
That wizard from before?
Why is he there?
Ah, he must have come to buy magical tools. Surely he doesn’t come often, right?
Worried they might even make eye contact, Priscilla unconsciously hid behind a large suit of armor. A few seconds later, the very fact that she’d hidden when she’d done nothing wrong made her feel very ashamed, but she quickly rationalized it to protect her pride.
Right, let’s not run into him. Even among wizards, not that guy. I’ll be lucky if he doesn’t steal anything from the shop. If we meet, I’ll just hear more cutting remarks. This isn’t wizard phobia, it’s that man himself who’s the unpleasant problem.
Just having that suspicious wizard nearby made the world feel dark and all the sparkling things seemed to disappear. She felt a sharp drop in her desire to buy anything as she waited for the man to leave.
Like a guard watching for enemies, she secretly poked her head out from behind the armor and surveyed the shop interior once more. Fortunately, he seemed to have left and was no longer visible.
Phew.
And after breathing a sigh of relief and briefly returning to search for sparkling things in the shop.
Someone suddenly reached out from behind.
“You’re short, aren’t you.”
She had been looking up at a golden prosthetic arm hanging high on the ceiling.
A man who had appeared from who knows where brought down the prosthetic arm.
Then he lightly lifted it with one hand and began examining it this way and that.
Casually, making what sounded like another criticism.
“Short, and your judgment about people is still terrible.”
“…”
Priscilla felt something like déjà vu as she turned her head to stare at the man. His form of seriously examining the object was so natural that for a moment she almost failed to remember what the problem was.
“Eastern Company products only look fancy on the surface but are poor quality. There are many other good things.”
“…”
“Arancel is complicated and difficult in many ways. If you get bored wandering around alone, shall I show you around?” Once again appearing without any presence, suddenly acting casual and friendly—it only added to the suspiciousness. When was it that he acted like she should get out of the way and move? Now he’s approaching like this?
She stepped back three whole steps. In case there might be any contact.
She was as quick as if avoiding filthy sewage.
Priscilla wasn’t childish enough to welcome such kindness by saying “Thank you so much.” That’s why Miriam had let her go shopping alone too.
If she didn’t want to be found the next day in the street having been cruelly mistreated by a strange man, making Miriam faint, then refusing was the obvious thing to do.
Of course, there wasn’t sufficient evidence that this black-clothed gentleman would do such a thing, and seeing how he went in and out of Sabed, he probably wasn’t completely without background, but at least Priscilla’s five senses and instincts were telling her so.
“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t planning to buy anything anyway. I’m just going to buy some oil and leave. They said they sell good stuff to apply to prosthetic contact surfaces.”
She tried to make a polite excuse so as not to offend him.
But Priscilla’s hardened expression couldn’t hide her displeasure at the man’s incomprehensible behavior.
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Well then, take care. Thank you for helping. I’ll just take the thought.”
Priscilla gave a stiff greeting and left the spot. And once again she hid behind the armor, this time watching without fail until the man finished paying and left outside.
And that day, the man bought up everything Priscilla had wanted to purchase.
“I’m sorry, customer. The ylang-ylang oil was all bought by the gentleman who just left… We have no stock today.”
“Then when can I get it if I come next time?”
“It’s not a common item. I’m not sure exactly when it’ll come in.”
Priscilla felt anger rising for the first time since coming to Arancel.
I can only go out after waiting a whole week until the next holiday! To buy it all without leaving even one—that’s really too much!
He didn’t buy it because he needed it, surely. What’s he going to do with all that?
Petty man. He looks refined but acts like a common thug!
Breathing sharply through her nose, Priscilla’s return empty-handed brought fresh shock to the factory people.
Why is that calm girl angry? Is it because she’s still young? She must be quite upset about not being able to buy what she wanted.
Along with such misunderstandings, she was eventually able to get the oil when Miriam accompanied her the next holiday.
Without oil, she’d suffer extreme dryness causing her skin to crack painfully and slowly waste away in agony at night—Miriam’s exaggerated sympathy-inducing operation created the miracle of producing stock that hadn’t existed. Priscilla applauded inwardly.
But getting the oil later didn’t restore her perception of the strange man.
Moreover, when visiting the same shops, she found herself quickly looking around while shopping, wondering if he might pop up from somewhere again.
Could he be someone who comes to Iron Bank Road often? Priscilla considered asking the shop people about the black-haired wizard, but gave up when she felt self-loathing about whether she really needed to go this far. It was easier to think of him as someone not worth paying attention to.
