A mage? A spell engineer!

Chapter 72 The Nighttime Arrest Operation

Floran, an out-of-province man, was able to find such an easy job as a fishmonger in Valuana thanks to his younger brother, a shrewd and capable meat merchant.

He and his younger brother were complete opposites—the older brother was tall and thin, while the younger brother was short and stout; the older brother was taciturn and indecisive, while the younger brother was outgoing and brave.

It's as if an ordinary person was split in two by God, resulting in two brothers. Clearly, the younger brother's bold and enterprising spirit earned him money, and his plump figure was seen as reliable, stable, and wealthy in this world, especially among ordinary citizens.

Floran's quiet and listless demeanor during the day suggested idleness and suspiciousness; he was skinny, lacking both fat and muscle. No mother near the Valuana market would want her daughter to marry such an unreliable, thin man.

However, it must be said that both brothers possessed courage. The younger brother used it in his expansion into the slaughtering and processing of meat, rising from humble beginnings as a butcher's apprentice to become a respectable owner of numerous butcher shops. The older brother's boldness, however, remained hidden in his daytime silence.

At night, while everyone assumed this bachelor was out having fun, Floran was often "attending events" in a small club.

It was called a club, but it was really just a small room. Yet everyone there was an ambitious and courageous individual; there were small business owners, lawyers, and playwrights.

Their social status and income were roughly similar, and they all shared common ideas: opposition to aristocratic privileges and opposition to clergy. Some even dared to go further: opposition to His Majesty the King.

After the Green Wave Tea House was raided, the club members found a secluded house to meet regularly. They were all talented and educated men who would share poetry, discuss how the new plays at the Grand Theatre subtly criticized the aristocracy, and boldly envision a new future for Valois.

Floran liked this feeling, even though he rarely spoke from his corner. At this moment, Floran felt sacred to himself, reveling in a grand ideal rather than being surrounded by the smell of fish.

"That concludes Representative Edward's statement. The House of Commons passed the bill by a large majority." After reading the statement, the member finished reading aloud a tabloid called "Sea Messenger," which regularly collects and publishes Istani's parliamentary debates.

Reading this newspaper was a regular part of the club's gatherings. The person reading the newspaper was passionate, and the audience listened attentively with serious expressions, as if they were rehearsing their future careers.

Next, the time that had recently begun, which Floran found tedious, arrived:

"Have you bought any shares of Saliana Mining?"

"They were so hard to get! I bought government bonds, and Mrs. Emmon wants to withdraw her annuity to invest today."

"Let me tell you a good connection. Recently, there's a trading company on Dupont Street that sells stocks on a buy-and-sell basis. You can buy and sell for as low as one livre. I've seen all the business owners on the street trade there."

"Come on, you think you can invest with such a small amount of money?"

"No, no, no, you misunderstood me, friend. Why can't we open a trading company like that? We have money and lawyers."

Speculation, the frenzy and restlessness of the stock exchange, have infected this club. Its members are predominantly businessmen and lawyers, and the screenwriters are frequent acquaintances of celebrities; in fact, they themselves are one of the fuels of market fervor, and now, condescending to their musty little hut, they've fueled it to a fever pitch.

This was even more unbearable for Floran than talking about women! Floran had never met any nobles, but he vaguely felt that the person in front of him somewhat overlapped with the image they criticized.

Besides him, two other players in the club remained unmoved by the heated discussion:

One is Thor, a self-proclaimed student and a young man who is always yawning.

The other is Maxim, whose name means "the Greatest" in Jaberian. This young lawyer, newly arrived in the kingdom's capital, is resolute, upright, and stubborn. He often argues with his members and meticulously defeats or persuades them, and no one can shake his resolve. He clearly has no interest in stock trading and is channeling his stubbornness into peeling an orange.

"Gentlemen, we can discuss this kind of money-making business openly elsewhere. No one will arrest you for it, right? Why don't we all go home and get some sleep?" Thor yawned, reminding the group, who were obsessed with getting rich, that it was time to leave.

"I propose that the club cease discussing speculative matters from now on, unless it concerns our great cause," Maxim spoke up, orange juice still dripping from his lips. Everyone on the "rock" nodded in agreement.

That concludes today's gathering. To maintain secrecy, we will leave in pairs, with each pair spaced ten minutes apart. Today, it's Thor and Floran's turn to leave last.

Just as Thor finished saying "Damn it," there was a knock on the door.

"Did someone forget something?" Floran tried to open the door, but Thor stopped him.

"No." "Sleepyhead's" eyes were now fully awake. He placed his hand on the door and sensed it for a while. Floran didn't know how Thor had done it.

"Plainclothes officers, three people, jump out of the window."

"This is the second floor! We can use the curtains." Before Floran could react, Thor grabbed his arm and dragged him out of the room. Just when Floran thought he was going to break a bone, his body suddenly felt light, and he landed steadily on the ground.

They were the last group to leave; it was already late, and there were no carriages or pedestrians around.

"They jumped out of the window! Chase them!"

Hurried footsteps came from the stairs. Thor quickly instructed, "We'll split up and run. The gathering is suspended for one session. Use the old method to notify them of the new time and place."

After giving his instructions, Thor wiped his hand, transforming it into a different form, and then wiped it on Floran's face.

Floran involuntarily closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, the other person had disappeared.

Huh? Floran was taken aback, then turned and ran towards the main road. He was obviously inexperienced, and it was especially easy for the cops to track him on the main road. Every now and then, a tall, thin figure would dart past under the dim kerosene streetlights.

Floran thought he could outrun his pursuers with his speed. He looked back and thought: Damn it, why are they all chasing me? The distance between the fishmonger, who hadn't exercised in a long time, and his pursuers seemed to be closing.

Suddenly, a carriage passed by at breakneck speed. The driver was completely oblivious to the road, his peaked hat pulled down low, and the horse was draped in thick velvet, its pale, cold light flickering in the night. All four noticed it simultaneously and felt an inhuman, terrifying aura emanating from it.

"Keep chasing, keep chasing." The plainclothes officers carrying out the arrest gritted their teeth, forcibly ignoring the ominous passerby and focusing their attention on the target.

However, a sudden change occurred. In an instant, a thick fog enveloped the road, dimming and dispersing the light from the kerosene lamps. The icy fog stung the pursuers' skin, sending chills down their spines. The three of them shivered simultaneously as they watched the tall, thin figure ahead vanish in a flash.

They didn't even believe that Floran had escaped, but rather that something dirty in the night had taken the poor man away.

As members of the security force, they had received numerous reports of citizens disappearing after going out at night in Valuana, visiting the underground cemetery, often without any leads, and even the church couldn't track them down. It seemed they had unexpectedly encountered such a case today.

Fortunately, the fog dissipated and nothing more happened. One of the three began to quietly recite a prayer.

"Damn it, let's call it a day." The leader removed his right hand from his waist and gave up on the pursuit.

"Floran, what are you doing here being chased by thugs? Did you run into debt from gambling?" Inside the carriage, Rorschach asked Floran to sit down.

As Rorschach passed by, he noticed a tall, thin man running in the opposite direction; the figure looked somewhat familiar. He turned back to block the three pursuers and saw that the man being chased was none other than the fisheries manager.

(End of this chapter)