Upon hearing Fischer's words, the three adorable little girls blinked their eyes simultaneously, their movents perfectly synchronized as if they were triplets.
"We'll ask our friends."
"And our friends' friends!"
"Co quick, Dottie One!"
As the three girls began calling out, rustling sounds erged from all around the underground room. Old Jack, who was holding the three milky-scented girls, darkened his expression. Every ti they summoned their friends, he felt uneasy, fearing they might bring diseases inside.
So he never allowed those rats inside, permitting them only at the pipe entrances at most.
Soon, nurous rats poked their heads out from the pipe openings around the room, their noses twitching occasionally as they looked at the three little girls outside. So even waved greetings, and there were even rats blowing kisses!
"Karen Street... Where's Karen Street?"
"We need to show them the direction."
"But the rats there might have poor mories, since this happened two weeks ago."
Karla and her sisters spread out a map of Saint Nary on their hands, their tiny fingers tracing every street until stopping at Karen Street, the cri scene. They lifted the map and pointed at the location to the rats sitting on the pipes outside. The rats squinted at it for a long ti before standing up and pounding their chests, as if saying "Leave it to us!"
Every ti Old Jack saw this scene, he felt these rats must be so kind of fairy creatures—how else could they make such vivid expressions? Monts later, swarms of rats surged out through the pipes, their movent creating crisp tapping sounds like raindrops against the tal.
Fischer watched the rats disappear into the room before pulling out the envelope previously given to him by the Nary police from his pocket. It still contained nearly twenty thousand Nary Euros. He placed the envelope on the small table in the room. The three mouse girls had no concept of money, but Old Jack's gaze lingered on it for quite so ti.
"This much... What exactly are you looking for? If it's dangerous, I advise you to quit while you're ahead."
"Not dangerous, but this information is indeed worth that much."
Old Jack glanced at Fischer but didn't refuse. He truly needed to save up so money.
Fischer understood their situation. Before Jack passed away, Old Jack had spent a fortune trying to cure his son, but to no avail—that money was gone forever. Though he still owned a tavern in Snakehead Street, it was hardly an ideal place.
Every day brought criminals, gangsters, or addicts here. After so many years, he'd had enough—or rather, enough of Saint Nary itself.
If not for his son studying and working here, he would have left long ago. Old Jack wanted to move to the Nary countryside, anywhere would do, to spend his remaining years in peace.
Moreover, the three mouse girls couldn't show themselves openly here, forced to stay underground every day. His desire to relocate grew stronger. He'd already decided—once they moved to the countryside and the girls grew up, he'd send them back to the Southern Continent, their holand.
But that would be a long ti from now. Old Jack was still in good health, bearing traces of his forr gangster days when he wielded knives recklessly.
The basent remained quiet for a long while. The three little mouse girls clung to Old Jack without minding the heat, occasionally glancing curiously at Fischer, who was ditating with his eyes closed. Only when familiar rustling sounds ca from the pipes again did they look up.
"They're back!"
The sa group of rats reappeared at the pipe openings, panting heavily as they leaned against the pipe walls. After catching their breath for a long ti, they began chittering while gesturing animatedly to the mouse girls—nobody else could understand what they ant.
"I see..."
"Oh!"
"My goodness."
The mouse girls nodded. Karla, the eldest, turned to Fischer excitedly and said,
"They say the squirrels there saw a human jump from the second floor that night, broke the tram wires, and ran away quickly. They're asking if it's this person?"
Fischer thought for a mont before nodding.
"Exactly, that's him. I want to know what he looks like and where he is now."
Karla nodded and called out to the rats again. The rats exchanged glances before waving their tiny paws and gesturing.
"Ah, they say he's very fat. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but they know where he is now."
"Where?"
Fischer looked up at the rats. One of them drew a circle in the air before frantically pointing upward, chittering loudly.
Karla and her sisters turned back to Fischer and said in unison,
"They say that guy is in Snakehead Street right now."
Fischer's expression changed instantly. He grabbed his cane and hat, urgently waving at the three mouse girls behind him.
"Quick, tell your rat friends to lead there!"
"Okay okay! Go! Dottie One, take Uncle Fischer to see!"
......
......
Snakehead Street covered a vast area. Beyond the drainage system, toward the main underground river, many Naryans had extended nurous buildings, making the rear section resemble a marketplace built within underground caverns.
The deeper one went, the fewer ordinary citizens remained—even the poorest worried about their safety here. In the depths, one could die without anyone noticing. Only abandoned addicts and dangerous individuals frequented these parts.
In a tavern deep within, a woman who stood out starkly from her surroundings sat drinking. Tall and holding a large mug of Naryan beer, she had placed her hat on the bar counter. Several pirates who had disembarked with her sat nearby, including the obese female first mate.
"Ah, Naryan beer really hits the spot!"
These won from the Sarding Matriarchy lacked any feminine grace, instead drinking with hearty abandon. The first mate downed half a liter of beer in one gulp, her face flushed as she eyed incoming patrons, hoping for a delightful "encounter." But the n were either too ugly or too filthy—none suited their tastes.
Only Arajina drank silently, her deep blue eyes unfathomable.
"Hey, Captain, what's wrong? You've been distracted ever since returning from the city the other day. Found so gentleman you fancy?"
The obese first mate—also the captain's close friend—nudged Arajina with her shoulder, snapping her out of her thoughts. Arajina hesitated before replying,
"I did et an exceptional man... but he's different."
"Different? How?"
"Unlike the n back ho. He's more... dominant."
"Oh... You're into that type."
The first mate took a discreet sip, suddenly understanding the captain's preferences. She wasn't fond of such n herself—she preferred delicate, adorable types—but since the captain liked them, she couldn't criticize. Right now, comforting their lovestruck captain took priority!
After pondering, she finally said,
"Well, that's not bad. Having a man take care of you is wonderful... As long as you're on top, Captain, just relax!"
Arajina paused mid-sip. She glanced at the first mate and said softly,
"He... prefers being on top."
"..."
The first mate's mouth hung open, utterly speechless. She looked at the silent captain, then at the crew mbers pretending not to listen (though their ears were perked up), inwardly cursing this awkward situation. Her forced smile grew increasingly stiff.
"O-oh, well... That's... also fine. Here, drink up, Captain! Maybe more alcohol will help you accept it!"
Arajina studied her briefly before raising her mug and draining the remaining beer, hoping to drown her thoughts in alcohol.
Just as she set the mug down, a greasy hand suddenly landed on her shoulder, accompanied by a raspy voice:
"Hey, handso, wanna share a drink—Gods, you're a woman?!"
Frowning, Arajina turned to see a flushed, obese man behind her.
The man's gender was ambiguous, straddling male and female. His voice was odd, his face slathered with crimson lipstick, purple eyeshadow, and white foundation.
But he was so fat that after just a few sips, sweat broke out, carrying his makeup down his fleshy cheeks until it caught in the folds.
His lecherous expression soured upon noticing Arajina's handso features and feminine curves. He recoiled several steps, his face twisting further upon seeing the distinctly Sarding Matriarchy-style pirates beside her.
To think he'd encounter manly won stealing n even here!
"Disgusting. Thought you were so noble-looking gentleman—turns out you're just a tomboy..."
The man spat, failing to notice Arajina's growing frostiness—or the tavern door opening behind him as a rat scurried in, screeching wildly at the obese man.
"Gods! A rat?! How vile!"
Before the man could shoo it away, a Naryan gentleman holding a cane entered calmly. After scanning the tavern and confirming the drunkard had no allies, his gaze t Arajina's—who looked stunned to see him.
He had found the Witch Research Society mber.
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