SIWALL Ch 27

Elliot’s hands moved quickly as he felt along his neck. Pressing down firmly with all five fingers, he gave it a good massage. Clearing his throat with a hearty cough, he spun his head from side to side.

His neck didn’t hurt at all!

Elliot bolted over to the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Reflected in the glass was a man with a clean, unblemished white neck.

“B-, boss! Hey, this, what, how did this get healed?”

There had been times when his tongue, burnt from eating something hot, had healed. But even then, it had never vanished completely in an instant like this, without a single warning.

“Is this magic?”

Magic in this world was considered a luxury that only the upper class could enjoy. Consequently, Elliot—who had been a ghostwriter struggling with alcoholism before transmigrating, and working as a lowly servant up until recently—had never once experienced magic firsthand in reality.

Magic—isn’t that something you can only use at Hogwart?

Leaving aside magic, Elliot hadn’t even had much exposure to parlor tricks, yet his eyes began to shine like a child’s. While Arzen hesitated, looking as though he couldn’t decide whether to answer, the old woman beat him to it.

“Magic, of course. And the kind of magic that costs about as much as a decent house. That single bead you just ate completely wipes out your injuries in a flash.”

“A-, a-, a-, a house’s worth?”

Elliot, the commoner, dropped his jaw and spun his head toward Arzen. Arzen had already recovered his composure and wore the exact same expression as usual, though he also seemed somehow embarrassed.

“I merely compensated for the mistake I made.”

Arzen said stiffly. Yet, through the action of him needlessly pulling his hood down below his forehead, Elliot could tell that he was feeling awkward.

‘So this guy has moments where he gets embarrassed, too….’

For some reason, Elliot liked that fact. Though he had no idea why.

“You’re paying for the materials as usual, right?”

The old woman asked, dragging over something that looked like a giant hookah. The glass bottle, formed of delicate curves, was quite large, and a long hose-like tube was connected to its spout. At the end of the tube was an opening resembling the mouthpiece of a flute.

While Elliot looked on in bewilderment, Arzen walked over, sat down in front of her, and took the end of the hookah’s long tube. As he did, a blue light softly enveloped his entire body, then entered through the hookah’s spout, rushing along the tube and getting sucked into the bottle.

“Is that also a magic bottle? What kind of magic is that?”

Astonished by the mystical sight he was seeing for the first time, Elliot asked in a daze. The old woman, keeping her eyes fixed on the bottle as it steadily filled with blue light, explained without looking away.

“It’s drawing out his aura. Even filling just a third of that bottle is more than enough to cover the cost.”

“Aura? Is, is that safe?”

When Elliot’s eyes widened in alarm, the old woman let out another ‘Pfft’ sound of laughter.

“Drawing out energy is bound to make him a bit tired, but this much won’t even scratch the surface. Best of all, getting tired is actually what he wants. In this street, I’m the only dealer who extracts aura this honestly. He’s the only one making a pure profit here.”

Arzen simply closed his eyes and stood completely still. Normally, he surely would have told Elliot not to ask useless questions or warned him to watch his tongue around the old woman.

Though his face was hidden by the hood, Elliot guessed that he was concentrating intensely. As a Sword Master, it probably wasn’t physically exhausting for him to draw out his aura; rather, it seemed to be because he had to expel a large quantity in a short amount of time.

Only then did Elliot understand why Arzen had come to Hemp Street. Arzen had no interest in alternative magic, alternative aura, or illegal transactions. He came here to sell his own aura and exhaust his own body.

Solely to become tired.

A corner of Elliot’s chest was tinged with a poignant sorrow. His signature empathy was triggered once again. It was all too clear how much that finicky, rigid man must have wandered around and suffered before ending up drifting to a place like this.

“Um… ma’am, by any chance….”

Elliot rummaged through his trouser pockets and pulled out a pouch of gold coins. It was the pouch where he had portioned out the wages he received from Generwin the other day. That was all the money he had on him right now.

“Is there anything I can buy with this?”

The old woman narrowed her eyes and weighed the pouch of gold coins in her hand. Having made her decision, she snapped her fingers, creating a sharp friction sound. Soon, a handkerchief materialized in the palm of her hand. It was a beautiful and neat white silk handkerchief embroidered with blue flowers.

“Is that all?”

“Consider yourself lucky I’m even giving you a discount out of pity.”

Concealing the pouch filled with gold coins inside her sleeve, the old woman tossed the handkerchief toward Elliot as if throwing it away. As Elliot dubiously folded the handkerchief and tucked it safely into his inner chest pocket, the old woman remarked casually.

“Don’t try to go against your grain.”

“Pardon?”

“The thing you’re trying to go against right now is destiny. The biggest one you’ve ever encountered. Don’t waste your energy for nothing.”

“I have no intention of going against anything like destiny….”

Having said that much, Elliot froze for a second and stared at the old woman.

Could the destiny this old woman is talking about possibly be the original work? Does she know that I came from another world and am trying to change the original ending?

As Elliot tried to force his stiffened tongue to move, the old woman added:

“If you meet a nobleman who’s as unapproachable and burdened with responsibility as that one, only the person by his side suffers.”

“Ah… that kind of destiny, you mean….”

Elliot quickly swallowed back the words that were about to spill out. If he had blurted out something weird, he probably would have just been treated like a lunatic.

Just in time, Arzen, having filled his aura to the exact required amount, removed his hand and released his energy.

While the old woman and Arzen bickered back and forth—him arguing to put a little more in, her refusing—Elliot idly fingered the thirty-gold-coin handkerchief tucked in his chest pocket.

“Destiny….”

The tips of his ears turned slightly red before he realized it. There was no telling why those words were sinking so deeply into his chest.

While Elliot was lost in his own thoughts, the old woman put away the magic hookah. Then she pulled a small potion vial out from her sleeve and stirred it with a silver spoon to show him.

“Right, here.”

The silver spoon the old woman held was pristine.

“Every time I buy some, I have to test it for poison. Honestly, I’m quite offended.”

Grumbling, the old woman capped the potion vial and handed it over to Arzen. Without a word in response, Arzen slipped it inside his cloak.

“I’ll come again next time.”

Arzen stepped out of the shop first. Elliot hurried to follow him, bidding the old woman farewell.

“Stay well, ma’am. I’ll come ag—no, wait, I shouldn’t come here again. Do lots of business!”

Watching Elliot’s back as he scurried away with a hasty farewell, the old woman shook her head despondently.

“S-, such a… his outer shell is the only thing fine about him… I wonder if a guy like that can even change destiny, sigh, tsk.”

Perhaps because he took the medicine, Arzen didn’t pick Elliot up and run like before. He simply strode forward rapidly with long, elegant strides. Elliot’s legs were splitting apart just trying to keep up like a little sparrow following a stork.

“Panting, boss, could you please walk just a little, just a little bit slower~?”

Running far behind and struggling to keep pace, Elliot asked timidly. However, without stopping his stride, Arzen replied coldly.

“Your stamina is far too weak. Do your absolute best to catch up with me all the way to Pentus Street.”

“Pardon? Boss! I’m sorry, but! You’re speaking from too far away, so I can’t hear you!”

He actually heard him.

However, he had no choice but to deploy his ‘I can’t hear you’ skill because Arzen had suddenly turned into an instructor forcing harsh physical training upon him, and it was terrifying.

Up ahead, he heard Arzen click his tongue briefly. Yet he didn’t stop walking.

Oh for goodness’ sake.

In the end, Elliot had to clench both fists and run all the way back to Pentus Street.

Upon reaching Pentus Street, they hailed a two-wheeled carriage. Seeing Elliot gasping for breath and collapsing bonelessly onto the carriage seat, Arzen sat on the opposite seat and removed his cloak’s hood.

“Pathetic in the extreme. Even a newborn pony would have stronger stamina than you.”

“Don’t horses naturally have a lot of strength?”

“So you’re saying it’s only natural that you’re even weaker? Steeped in a defeatist mindset, aren’t you. It’s a wonder there’s still room left to be any more disappointed in you.”

Oh boy… please stop nagging me.

Displaying a forced smile—the kind he always put on whenever he wanted to hide his disgruntled thoughts—Elliot struggled to sit up straight with a rigid posture.

“That smile. I don’t like that one either.”

Right, right, I’m sure you don’t. Elliot suppressed his instinct to keep talking back to his boss.

That man who, just moments ago, had honestly admitted his fault, apologized, and held him close like someone precious was nowhere to be found anymore.

Right, this was the original Arzen. The ultimate nuisance among nuisances. A boss who couldn’t care less about other people’s circumstances. Pure corporate tyranny.

‘Destiny my foot.’

Elliot thought to himself. Though he couldn’t help the bitter aftertaste left behind by that thought, it seemed that even in an alternate world, Elliot had no such thing as ‘destiny’.