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129. [Altora] Disaster and Skirts – Part 2

「Suspicion: the excessive frills suggest someone’s personal kink. Also, the skirts are short.」

「Says the woman who used to dive into dungeons in even shorter skirts. And stop eating the souffle—that’s for sale!」

「Ehehe, well, I wasn’t expecting it to be this frilly and short…」

「According to calculations, this is optimal.」

Though Mina was clearly self-conscious about the skirt length, opening time was already upon them.

Altora adjusted his tie and raised his voice in a rousing call.

「All right, maggots! It’s time to open up Maid Tavern Fancy Mina!」

The words left his mouth, and then a thought suddenly hit him.

What kind of tavern had he been trying to make again? After countless sleepless nights spent thinking about how to draw in customers, maximize revenue, and stir up buzz, how had his original vision shifted?

Hadn’t his ideas veered wildly off course at some point?

「…I was supposed to build the toughest damn tavern around, packed with real men. How the hell did this turn into a maid café?」

No one answered his question.

Still, unexpected or not, their carefully calculated strategy proved effective. The newly reborn Fancy Mina, formerly known as Mom’s Tavern, was soon operating on solid footing.

◇

「…Huh?」

Time flew by in a flurry of busy days.

Then, one day, Altora caught a strange presence just outside the tavern and instinctively looked up.

It was a lone customer, coming in with a slightly furtive air—most first-timers did—but what caught Altora’s eye was behind them. A small, awkwardly scuttling figure.

「What the hell? Was that… some kinda doll just now?」

「Complaint: the floor is understaffed. Do not slack off, Head Waiter.」

「No, seriously, something small just scurried in behind that last guest—wait, what the hell!?」

As Altora squinted to get a better look, a rough voice escaped his throat.

It was small, about knee-high on a person, but its smooth, white porcelain body was unmistakable.

「A golem!? Oh come on—why the hell is that kind of crap showing up here!?」

Whenever Altora thought of golems, he thought of that red-haired alchemist—and the bastard debt collector who’d worked with her. Both had handed him bitter defeats. Neither memory was pleasant.

「Don’t tell me Angelina’s nearby!? N-No way, there’s no way that’s possible. That’d be way too much of a coincidence. Golem crafting might be rare, but it’s still a skill anyone can learn… Nothing strange about someone else around here knowing how to use it. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.」

「Hey Altora, what’re you mumbling about over there?」

「Shut up, Gordon. I’m just clearing out something that could be bad for business.」

Ruling out what he deemed an unrealistic possibility, Altora gave the golem a hard kick—and it shattered into porcelain shards, just as its white finish had suggested.

◇

「So he blew a gasket and dropkicked a doll, huh. What the hell’s he doing…?」

Having heard a report of Altora’s outburst, Remonde let out an exasperated sigh and called into the back of the room.

「…That was good enough, right?」

The room was dim, lit by a single lamp. A sweet, cloying scent of smoke hung in the air. Elven chieftain Remonde was speaking to a white-haired old man seated in the shadows—a human, with ordinary ears.

A low, gravelly voice answered, slow but certain, after a draw from a smoking pipe.

「Yes. That will do.」

「You really think Altora’s worth all this? I’ll admit I had hopes when he first showed up in town, thought he might be our trump card. But now? He’s like a beast with its fangs pulled. You’ve been negotiating with the top brass of the kingdom, so I trust you… but I don’t see any real use in that guy anymore.」

「That’s precisely why he can kill Marge now.」

At last, the old man turned his gaze to Remonde. Deep in his sunken sockets, a pair of rare black, muddy eyes bore into him.

「Marge is sharp—sharp enough to overestimate others. Always assumes that anything he can think of, his enemies can too. Ironically, that often makes him blind to the blunders of the truly incompetent.」

「And what does that have to do with anything?」

「There’s only one kind of person Marge underestimates. The ones he knows too well. The ones whose strength he accurately ‘gauges’. That would be Altora and his companions.」

The old man paused, then let the corners of his mouth curl into a faint, crooked smile.

「Those fools will become our ace in the hole.」

「…If you say so, then I suppose that’s how it is.」

「Indeed. I raised him myself. There’s nothing about that boy I don’t know. And there’s nothing he understands that I don’t.」

With genuine delight—and a lurking malice—the old man chuckled softly, his shadow flickering.

「Leave everything to me. Your kingdom will soon come to fruition.」