Chapter 17: Chapter 14: Cigarettes and Alcohol
1987, November 17, 11:40 PM.
Inner London, Prussian Street.
The night washed over the light like a flood. A silent flash of lightning split the sky, momentarily illuminating the shadowy crowd on the street.
The ground trembled as if waves were crashing against a reef.
One after another, lions bearing riders trod down the long street. Unlike the Lion Knights from the daytime, these were pure white male lions with amber eyes, wearing masks of pure white forged from silver.
The Knights were clad in engraved armor, with rune-etched Alchemy Longswords at their waists. In the center of their breastplates, an ancient and mysterious lion emblem was chiseled from silver—a pair of lion’s eyes.
The Lion Eye Knight Order, one of the Six Great Knight Orders of the Holy Hall.
They were renowned throughout the Old Descendant World of both East and West for their Silver Lions and the amber eyes that appeared when they used [Promise].
The Lion-eyed Knights raised their longswords toward the crowd. The pride of lions let out a low, rumbling growl, and the white vapor snorting from their nostrils cracked through the night like muffled thunder.
At the lion’s roar, the crowd along the street froze. For an instant, their breathing stopped, their minds went blank, as if they were witnessing a thunderbolt strike from the heart of the clouds.
"Not here. Let’s go!"
When the roar subsided, the Knight Commander at the head of the group scanned the surroundings. After confirming the target’s scent wasn’t present, he led the Knights away, riding their Silver Lions.
Only after the Lion-eyed Knights had departed with their intimidating presence did a boy in a newsboy cap, holding the leash of a sheepdog, whisper from a corner:
"You can come out now, Mr. Constantine. They’re gone."
A dark figure emerged from the alley. The figure followed the boy, furtively entering a clinic named "Cigarettes & Alcohol."
...
The boy lit the fire in the hearth and the candles along the wall, then poured a cup of black tea for Baron, who was on the sofa.
"It’s not midnight yet. Master is still sleeping. Please rest here for a moment. I’ll go prepare some bread for you."
In the glow of the flames, Baron could make out the room’s interior. The clinic was filled with a dazzling array of various objects, some piled haphazardly into small mountains, others displayed under acrylic panels or glass domes.
"They’re the Taboo Items Master Bagins has collected," the boy explained, seeming to have noticed Baron’s gaze.
Baron was a little surprised, as the boy had his back to him the entire time.
But unexpectedly, the boy, still with his back turned, seemed to see his surprise. As he served Baron some freshly baked cookies, he said:
"Mr. Constantine, do you remember what I said when I rescued you?"
"That this was a free rescue?" Baron asked uncertainly.
He vaguely recalled that when he was surrounded by Battle Nuns, Lion Knights, and Demon Hunters, the boy had led him to safety, saying, "Master Bagins sent me to rescue you."
The boy chuckled, shaking his head. He sat down with his dog, pulling it onto his lap to pet it. "I’m blind, and Sangji is my eyes."
Sangji was the sheepdog’s name. The boy’s name was Don Quixote.
’The boy’s father must be a modern-day Cervantes, obsessed with *Don Quixote*,’ Baron figured.
However, the boy’s words also made Baron understand his meaning. He pointed to the leash on Sangji. "A Taboo Item?"
Don Quixote smiled. "A leash that connects the pet’s vision with its master’s. It’s a C Level Taboo Object. Master Bagins spent Ten Ounces of Gold to buy it for me from Westminster Cathedral."
Baron nodded.
’This Bagins fellow sounds quite kind-hearted,’ Baron thought. ’Then perhaps the price for asking him to resolve the [Time Death Judgment] won’t be as difficult as I imagined.’
"It’s almost midnight. I’ll go wake Master Bagins. Please wait a moment."
Baron watched silently as the boy went upstairs holding Sangji. In the dim candlelight of the living room, his retreating figure looked exceptionally small and frail, like a newly carved wooden puppet waiting for its gears to be oiled.
He took a sip of black tea and let his gaze drift over the Taboo Items piled up in the room. This was different from the collection at Westminster People’s Bank, where they thoughtfully labeled everything.
If the boy hadn’t mentioned it, Baron would have assumed these Taboo Items were just the messy collection of some otaku.
There were many old newspapers on the floor. The Magic Power that had been stored in them had faded, turning the original moving pictures into static photos.
He casually picked up a few and glanced through them:
[Poland Bagins Establishes Solitary Alchemy...]
[Alchemy Master Bagins Publishes Alchemy Opus "Ethereal Soul Splitting," Inspiration Said to Come from the Twin Flowers...]
[Bagins’s Resurrection Alchemy Ceremony Fails, Test Subject Becomes Living Dead...]
[Bagins Vanishes...]
The newspapers chronicled the glorious and disgraced past of the Alchemy Master. Based on the current state of the clinic, Baron estimated that the present-day Bagins was the "disgraced version 2.0."
After all, Lawrence had read these newspapers before he was imprisoned. He had no idea how much time had passed since then; it was a miracle Bagins was even still alive.
Baron continued flipping through the papers and also found a few articles about the Blood Biters and the Dragon Eater Association.
Dragon Feast... Baron paused at that article.
According to the newspaper’s explanation, this was a group that worshipped the Dragon Witch. Its members were called Dragon Eaters, and their main activity was hunting dragons.
The state of the slain Dragon Species was mostly the same: their hearts were torn out, and their bodies were covered in burn marks from fire.
Rumor had it that the Dragon Eaters believed the Dragon Heart, as the very source of the Dragon Race’s blood, must contain Dragon Crystals and Dragon Scales suitable for making Magic Staffs—or perhaps even a power surpassing them.
’Dragon Witch... Carmen... Dragon Knight Contract... Dragon Feast... Things are getting more and more complicated. I shouldn’t think about it for now. Staying alive is what matters most.’
Baron put down the newspaper with a headache, his gaze naturally falling upon a silvery-white necklace placed casually on a nearby wooden table.
...
"That’s the A Level Taboo Object, the [Goddess of Death Necklace]. I’d advise you not to wear it. One of its Authorities is to cause the wearer to die instantly."
’Instant Death? It’s that dangerous?’
Baron hurriedly put the necklace down and looked in the direction of the voice—no one was there.
"Down here, kid!"
Baron felt a tap on his knee. He looked down and finally saw a little old man.
He was about seventy years old, with long, thick white eyebrows that curved and then swept outwards. He had a long goatee, white hair, and the parting in his hair was full of flecks of some kind of metal. In his left hand, he held a cup of black tea, and a cookie was clamped in his mouth.
Although he wore a short gray robe, it still dragged on the floor.
The most eye-catching thing was the large hammer in his right hand. The body of the hammer was a brilliant silver, as if forged from silver itself.
Most importantly, the hammer was taller than the old man—just like the Dwarves he had seen in the newspapers and on the street today.
’The Alchemy Master Bagins is actually a Dwarf!’
"Kid, I’ve changed my mind. Get the hell out. I don’t like the look in your eyes," Bagins said, his long eyebrows twitching as he glared sternly.
Baron knew this was the person whose help he desperately needed; he couldn’t afford to offend him.
Just seeing the room full of Taboo Items and knowing the man’s reputation as an Alchemy Master made Baron feel the trip had been worthwhile.
’The [Time Death Judgment]—there’s real hope of breaking it!’
He reverently apologized to Bagins and explained that he had come seeking a favor.
Bagins held out his hand. Baron was confused. The Dwarf Master’s eyebrows twitched again.
"Where’s the rescue fee? You’re wanted by the Templar Knights, the Holy Cross Association, the Inquisition, *and* the Demon Hunter Association. I went to a lot of trouble to save you. You’re not going to pay a rescue fee?"
"But wasn’t it..."
Baron was about to ask if it wasn’t free, but Bagins seemed to anticipate his words. "Free? Kid, I’m a Dwarf. You know the motto of Dwarven finance?"
He plucked the shimmering metal flecks from his hair, rolled them into a tiny golden pellet in his hand, and pinched it as he declared, "A Gold Coin is a Dwarf’s life!"
Baron gave a wry smile. This Master Bagins, it seemed, was a bit different from what he had imagined.
