Author: 冬瓜茶仙人 / Winter Melon Tea Immortal
Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/
Chapter 51
Charlie sat boredly at the edge of an old fountain in the middle of a crossroad, watching the passersby.
Towns near the border had one advantage: they were a melting pot.
During the hour he sat there, he saw several fringe races that would be rare in central cities. For example, the Stone People, who were over eight feet tall and simple-minded. They were a powerful minority prone to accidents due to their hot temper, so they were banned from many rule-abiding areas. There was also a small figure with dark green skin, a high-pitched voice, and a fishy smell, whom Charlie didn’t recognize. He even saw a dwarf walking a half-grown lion across the square, to the nonchalant gaze of the pedestrians.
In this environment, a rabbit head without a cloak didn’t attract much attention. Most people just glanced at him and looked away—admittedly, it was a relaxing feeling, as if he was back in Maplewood, where no one treated him as an outsider.
Though he indeed was an outsider, in every sense of the word.
Idly waiting was boring, so the rabbit-headed shopkeeper casually plucked some grass and wove small birds. His hands were skilled, quickly shaping a green bird in his palm.
A few local children, mesmerized, didn’t mind his peculiar rabbit head and boldly asked him in accented common language to make more.
Charlie perked up and pretended to blow on the grass birds, making them wobble and fly, albeit not high or far, but enough to excite the children.
When he snapped back to reality, he had performed several magic tricks mixed with sleight of hand, attracting a crowd with his top hat upside down on the ground, now filled with coins.
…But he wasn’t here to perform.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper thought embarrassedly, then energetically performed a small fireball spell, earning applause and coin tosses—even a gold coin stood out among a pile of tin and copper coins, as a snotty-nosed child exclaimed, “Wow.”
Charlie bowed to the crowd, scooped the coins into his purse, signaling the end of the show.
Although many were still eager, it was clear the rabbit-headed magician had earned enough, and there would be no more shows. After the crowd dispersed, Charlie dusted his hat and put it on, looking sideways at a young person still standing there, staring unblinkingly back at him.
The only gold coin had come from this person.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” The young person, tall and handsome, was dressed and behaved unassumingly. They apologized slightly. “I am Erica.”
Erica had actually arrived half an hour earlier but hadn’t approached Charlie’s impromptu street performance, and instead waited patiently—until the show ended—and joined everyone else in cheering and tossing coins.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper politely bowed, noticing a two-wheeled carriage nearby, so both headed towards it understandingly. Charlie instinctively reached out his hand, but Erica hesitated.
Charlie: “?”
Erica, seeing his rabbit head tilt in confusion, smiled. “You are the first person to treat me as a lady upon first meeting.”
Charlie paused, then withdrew his hand.
“I was presumptuous,” the shopkeeper sincerely said.
He thought Erica’s masculine attire was for convenience in foreign lands, a habit of deference to women when getting on and off carriages, but this was the first time he had to reflect whether such deference was actually needed by the other party.
“No, I am pleased. You’re a true gentleman,” Erica replied briskly, stepping onto the carriage footrest. “My mother says I look just like my father when he was young, which is why the knights see me and start challenging me to duels. Even if I grow my hair long, curl it, and wear a dress, they can’t see their own grace.”
Charlie also got into the carriage, seeing Erica had already taken the reins.
The Duke’s reply to him had been very brief, mentioning little about Erica, only that she was trustworthy.
But after just twenty minutes together, this young person had impressed Charlie—she not only caught up with their schedule after completing tedious official procedures but also arranged a few but effective local contacts and was ready when using the secret communication methods of the Duke of Brandenburg.
No wonder, with a full cavalry at his disposal, Dwight had arranged for her to lead the covert support during their time on the Doran continent. Her authority over force deployment seconded only to Dwight himself, equal to Knight Commander Shivers.
“I arrived in Bonan Town three hours ago. I should have been at the meeting place first, but I was late because I received a possibly useful clue,” Erica whispered, the carriage smoothly driving through the streets—for an outsider, she was unusually familiar with her direction.
But what surprised him more was that she had already obtained viable clues—before he had even entered the town, he hadn’t been idle, but to rapidly locate local information sources, filter truth from falsehood, and pay for it, was not something easily done in two hours.
As if seeing the surprise in those slightly widened rabbit eyes, Erica explained, “Before we set off, I had our contact in town contact the local information broker, offering a high price for information—all the names on the list. I judged whether it was valid or not.”
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper was speechless. Well, this success wasn’t only due to Erica’s excellent execution but also the omnipotent power of money.
As they talked, the carriage had passed through the bustling market, and the scenery by the road changed from various shops and stalls to closely packed, terraced houses, and the roads became much narrower.
“This is Grille Street. Including the next two streets, it’s a middle-class neighborhood of Ropappas. Most residents have a stable job,” Erica said. “The clue I collected lives here. His name is Dabik, an apothecary.”
Strictly speaking, Dabik hadn’t fully moved into Grille Street yet.
The chubby middle-aged man had just signed his lease when Erica and Charlie’s carriage stopped. At the entrance of the house he rented at 15 Grille Street, there were two old wooden chairs and a set of flowered bed sheets—trash left by the previous tenant, yet to be cleaned up and taken away.
Erica approached the door as if she strolled down Grille Street every day and knocked naturally.
Standing behind, the rabbit-headed shopkeeper watched her seriously whisper to the apothecary that she had been feeling “less vigorous” in bed, struggling to cope with a capricious lover, with an expression somewhat complex.
Not everyone had the rabbit-headed shopkeeper’s keen eye.
Dabik immediately believed Erica was a libertine and trusted her difficult-to-discuss condition, examining her up and down for a while, seemingly convinced that such a handsome man having several lovers and seeking an apothecary was reasonable, and without much thought, let them in.
Charlie’s rabbit head did catch the apothecary’s attention. He glanced back several times as he led them to the living room and nearly tripped over a messy box on the floor.
But he didn’t ask any questions.
“I have several things here. Which one do you want?” Dabik said, pushing open a large leather suitcase and pulling over a high stool for them to sit.
“What all do you have?” Erica asked casually.
Dabik chuckled. “Depends on what effect you want. If you want something potent, I have tree frog poison and salamander ashes from the West Coast rainforest. They have some side effects but are cheap and strong.”
Erica’s expression remained neutral. “These aren’t good quality.”
Dabik glanced at her.
It could be seen that the apothecary was busy moving, initially thinking Erica, despite her good looks and simple dress, wasn’t an easy mark, and decided to dismiss her with common goods available on the market.
But as soon as Erica showed disdain, the slick apothecary thought she might be a big fish, and his tone became more patient. “Of course, I have high-quality goods too. Smuggled in golden grass from Pennigra. Sir, I assure you that once you leave this door, you won’t find another in all of Bonan Town that could offer this.”
Erica remained unimpressed. “Don’t try to fool me with these. I heard that you have good stuff for Baron Pansence, that’s why I came here. Did you also present just two blades of grass to the Baron?”
Dabik’s face changed several times—probably wondering who had leaked his private dealings, then recalling his recent bragging at the tavern while drunk, his face turning both green and red, which was quite a sight.
Erica, seeming not to notice his hesitation and embarrassment, continued, “What? You think I can’t afford it?”
As she spoke, she twirled a ruby ring on her finger (Charlie was sure this ring wasn’t on her hand while driving the carriage).
“No, sir,” Dabik said with a pained expression. “I don’t know who the blabbermouth is—cough, it’s not like that.”
Seeing Erica’s expression, he quickly added, “Indeed, the Baron did buy some energy potions from me, but those were for older men, not suitable for you. Also,” he hesitated, “it was mixed by a doctor I know, who had always served the Baron. Now he’s leaving town, and I’ve bought up his stock of potions, and the Baron found me only after that—those potions were specially made for him, and once they run out, I’ll have to mix new ones for him. You’re still young and healthy. Using someone else’s medicine would actually be bad for you.”
This turnover of clients was what allowed him to move from a shared bathroom apartment on Lower Street to Grille Street, though he was too embarrassed to mention this part.
“Doctor?” Erica raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Dr. Salman. He’s the best surgeon in town. Most well-known people prefer to see him—don’t know why, but he suddenly said last week he wanted to vacation in the south and handed off his clients to a few of us that he works with regularly.”
“Dr. Salman? I know him,” Erica feigned surprise. “He’s leaving? Vacationing now?”
“Yeah, we’re also puzzled. It’s almost spring. Where’s he vacationing all of a sudden? But Dr. Salman isn’t sociable. Ask him, and he won’t say much. Luckily, I got there early and bought most of his medicine.” Dabik thumped his chest.
“He seldom mixes medicines himself, but the Baron is nobility. Even Doctor Salman can’t refuse him.” Dabik shrugged. “So, golden grass?”
He tried to steer the conversation back to his business, but his guests’ focus had already drifted.
The rabbit-headed shopkeeper was only concerned with one thing: that the bigwigs in town were accustomed to seeing Dr. Salman.
But Dr. Salman was leaving.
Charlie, who had been silent since entering, suddenly said, “Is Dr. Salman still in Bonan?”
Dabik looked at him warily, but Erica immediately said she would buy his golden grass, and he brightened up again.
“Dr. Salman hasn’t left town yet, has he?” Charlie continued. “Just in case, it might be better to meet him. If he can mix potions specially for the Baron, he can mix for us too.”
Dabik’s eyes darted around. He usually didn’t like to entertain such talk. But indeed, Dr. Salman had said he was leaving in a couple of days, and doctors rarely mix medicines specially for someone—otherwise, why would he have a long-term collaboration with Dabik?
Since the deal for the golden grass was done, he might as well let these two face rejection. They’d come back to him anyway.
Thinking this, Dabik uncharacteristically eagerly gave them Dr. Salman’s address, rambling about “He’s the best doctor. I’m the best apothecary. Where do I find a partner after he leaves” and such nonsense.
“Yes,” Charlie agreed. “He’s a skilled doctor. We all need him. Why insist on leaving?”
Dabik shrugged. “Who knows—hey, come to think of it, he seemed to have gone on an emergency call outside town, then came back and started clearing his stock. He even rushed to get some medicine from me before leaving. He serves big clients. Maybe he got into some romantic trouble visiting some mistress? Those with status are not easy to offend…” He trailed off when he saw Erica pulling out her purse, his attention diverted.
Erica casually counted the silver coins, asking, “Oh, an emergency? What illness was so urgent? Hope no one was injured?”
Dabik watched her actions, saying, “Definitely not ordinary injuries. He stocked up on lots of anesthetics and hemostatics. Must have been surgery. I asked him, but he wouldn’t reveal a word.”
Charlie and Erica exchanged glances.
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