Chapter 13: Chapter 10: Lion Knight
"We had a deal. I’ll just take ten pounds."
Baron refused Julis’s kind offer. He counted out ten one-pound coins, pulled up his collar, and left in a hurry.
This place wasn’t far from the subway station, and he wasn’t sure if the people from the Holy Cross Association and the Inquisition were about to search the area.
The only reason he’d taken the risk of helping sell flowers was that he had just realized he was flat broke and in desperate need of money.
This had almost disrupted the morning tea-and-newspaper routine detailed in the diary of his body’s previous owner.
...
"A croissant, black coffee, the latest *Inner London Times*, and a copy of the *Inner London Map*... Thank you."
Baron took a sip of his coffee, unfolded the newspaper, and quickly scanned the headlines for any news that might affect his upcoming plans.
[Gray Dragon Far of Greenland Island Dead, Dragon Heart Stolen. Dragon Eaters Suspected...]
[Blood Biter’s Identity Revealed! Mysticists Suspect a Kin of Dracula?]
[Multiple Explosions at London Tower. Tower Master Isaac Newton Claims Student Alchemy Projects, Not a Demon Beast Attack.]
[Extra! Hijacking on the Inner London Dragon Subway! Freya, Second Daughter of the Lancelot Clan, Taken Hostage! Hijacker Confirmed as Escapee from London Thirteen Prison!]
Baron’s expression turned cold as he read on past the headline.
A moment later, he folded the newspaper, let out a deep breath, his thoughts in a tangle.
’This is a huge misunderstanding!’
’He’d tried to take a hostage and ended up grabbing the one person he shouldn’t have. Was this the "turn of fate" the die had chosen?’
Just then, an argument broke out beside him.
"The newspaper price went up to 50 pence a copy? Why don’t you just rob people blind!"
the old man shouted angrily, his outburst drawing the attention of some passersby.
"I’m sorry, sir, but the price has always been this high. Have you considered that perhaps your weekly salary is too low, and you’re not working hard enough?" the vendor said, maintaining a service-industry smile.
"You..."
"Here’s a pound. I’ll pay for the old gentleman. Use the rest to get him a cup of black tea and a croissant."
The old man was about to say something more when he saw a young man with black hair, black eyes, and the look of a Eurasian mix place a coin on the stall. The young man then tightened the long, dark-patterned Scottish scarf around his neck and disappeared into the crowd.
The young man was, of course, Baron in a new disguise.
Although the trench coat’s [Blocking] ability hid his appearance, the Holy Cross Association could still use that very feature to find him. After some thought, Baron decided the best disguise was no disguise at all.
So he opened his trench coat, took off his black-rimmed glasses, and went to a shop window next door to spend 70 pence on a scarf for concealment.
Besides the identical architecture, even the weather in Inner London and Outer London was exactly the same.
Damp and cold were the norm here, making scarves and trench coats the most ordinary of attire.
Judging by the efficiency of last night’s subway car broadcast, Baron felt he had to act fast. Otherwise, he’d be the next one to get a "Nun from the heavens" dropped on him.
...
Following the map’s directions and asking locals for the way, and finally with the guidance of a young lady in a white hat, he found himself standing before a clinic with a sign that read [Cigarettes & Liquor].
Baron checked his map, confirming that this was the final destination of his journey.
The Alchemist Bagins, the one Lawrence said was most likely to be able to remove the [Time Death Judgment], lived here.
Baron put away the map, straightened his clothes, and cleared his throat with a couple of soft coughs.
He then tucked a Red Joker Card into his inner pocket—one he’d picked up off the street after it was dropped by that same lady in the hat.
The card was exquisitely engraved with intricate carvings... ’It must have some other collectible value,’ he thought.
Baron planned to return it to the young lady if he ever met her again.
If he didn’t, the card would become his hidden reserve of energy—in other words, his escape fund.
As if he were going to his first job interview in a past life, he pressed the clinic’s doorbell.
The bell rang for a while, but there was no sign of the clinic’s door opening.
...
After about ten seconds, Baron pressed the doorbell again.
...
After another seven or eight seconds, Baron pressed the doorbell yet again.
...
After another five or six seconds, Baron pressed the doorbell again and again.
The ringing echoed lightly down the long street, which was said to be inhabited mainly by Dwarves, Goblins, and Turks.
Baron tilted his head slightly and saw a patrolling Lion Knight at a distant intersection who seemed to have noticed the situation and was craning his neck to look in his direction.
The clinic door remained shut.
’Did he move? Or is he just not home?’
Baron’s heart tightened.
If this was how it ended, then he was well and truly cooked.
Just as Baron was considering his next move.
RATTLE!
The dormer window of the neighboring attic flew open. A Goblin woman dressed as a maid, but with rough skin and buck teeth, yelled down at Baron:
"Hey, kid! Stop ringing! Mr. Bagins’s clinic only opens at midnight. If you want to see him, come back later."
With that, the dormer window slammed shut again, leaving Baron alone and bewildered on the street.
Although the Goblin maid’s shout had given Baron crucial information, it had also attracted the attention of the Lion Knight at the intersection, who had previously only been watching.
Now, the Knight yanked his reins, and the lion, with a low growl, came charging toward Baron’s position!
Gripping the reins tightly, the Knight shouted from the lion’s back, "You there, sir! Please wait!"
Baron figured that any normal person, with the exception of some legendary ’slide-tackle bro’, would choose to run when a lion came charging at them.
Baron was no different, especially given his dual status as an actual hijacker and fugitive.
Run! And run like hell!
But he didn’t know if it was his imagination or not—as he ran, he glanced back and thought he saw the curtains in the clinic’s attic window twitch.
...
「Inner London, Rome Street.」
To avoid being spotted by passersby, a panting Baron hid in a phone booth. He unfolded the new newspaper he’d bought and searched for the latest updates so he could react to whatever came next.
After reading the paper, Baron let out a breath.
Just as he’d expected, the Prole Court had finally issued a warrant for his arrest. It stated that he had stolen a carriage from the Westminster People’s Bank, might possess a Taboo Item that could disguise his appearance, and that anyone in Inner London with an obscured face was a potential suspect.
Fortunately, they hadn’t released his photo, so as long as he acted calmly and avoided causing any trouble, he should be fine.
He looked up to confirm the Lion Knights weren’t in pursuit, then glanced at the familiar arrangement of the Magic Pharmacy, Magic Wand Shop, and Magic Card Shop, and the street sign. He cracked a grin.
’To think that after all that darting left and right, I’d end up right back on this street.’
Suddenly, a low lion’s roar echoed. A Lion Knight galloped past him. Baron’s heart skipped a beat and he quickly raised his newspaper, but he saw that the lion carried not only the Knight but also a middle-aged gentleman in a suit—the same Jewish gentleman who had been buying flowers earlier.
Perhaps because of the unknown contract he’d signed with Carmen, he could clearly hear the Jewish merchant’s words drifting down from the lion’s back:
"Yes, Sir Knight, I am absolutely certain that flower seller was concealing his appearance. A trench coat with a high collar, I couldn’t see his face..."
"It was on this very street. The man’s scent must still be on the flower stall. I knew it all along! That shyster is definitely the damned fugitive!"
’Damn it!’
Baron’s heart sank. He never would have expected karma to be so swift.
He hurriedly pulled open the phone booth door, but just then he heard the lion roar and the Jewish gentleman exclaim, "The lion has the scent! He’s here!"
’Damn it!’
Baron’s hand went to the gun grip in his coat.
’I’m already a desperate fugitive. I won’t be taken without a fight!’
"Sir, this way."
Just as Baron’s frayed nerves were steadying, a soft female voice called out.
Then he saw a girl spray some kind of perfume on him before pulling him into a small alley.
...
"Strange..."
The Jewish gentleman leaped off the lion’s back and sniffed the air outside the phone booth. "There seems to be a mix of many floral scents... some kind of perfume."
The Lion Knight glanced around coldly, then patted the mane of the lion beneath him. The lion lowered its head and sniffed. "This Demon Lion is a descendant of the Silver Lions. Its sense of smell surpasses that of a hundred hounds."
As he finished speaking, the Demon Lion raised its head and let out a low growl in a certain direction.
The Lion Knight pulled on the reins and turned. "That’s the Gray Mist District, under the jurisdiction of the Demon Hunter Association. Go and inform Young Master Frank of the Demon Hunter Association. Tell him the man who kicked him off the subway has been found."
The Jewish gentleman pointed at himself. "You want *me* to go inform him?"
"Who else?" the Knight shot him a sidelong glance.
"Oh, it’s not that..." The Jewish gentleman rubbed his hands together, his smile obsequious. "It’s just that... the runner’s fee..."
The lion opened its mouth, roared, and spattered the man’s suit with drool.
The Jewish gentleman wiped the drool from his face. With a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, he bowed respectfully and said, "I understand, Sir Knight."
