### Chapter 10: Sinful Bartender
The bartender’s fleeting shock quickly morphed into an irritated expression, as if annoyed by guests arriving at this hour.
“If you’re here for drinks, old sir… and you, Inspector,” the bartender drawled in a weary tone, squinting lazily, “you’re too early. It’s quiet now.
“Oh, and fair warning—our food’s pricier than outside. Don’t order and then complain about the cost. No refunds.”
Though they shared the sa drawn-out, musical elven inflection as Aiwass's butler, the bartender's voice wasn't elegant.
Maybe it was the rough, clipped tones or the gravelly rasp from so many years of smoking, adding a sleazy tone.
"How much more expensive?" Haina inquired reflexively.
She realized at once she was here to do so investigating—price was irrelevant.
Oswald's money for investigating was for occasions such as this one.
She rephrased, "What can you offer?
Aiwass, in front of her, emitted a soft laugh.
Interviewing with this amateur was an odd experience.
The wild elf bartender moved quickly, calling Aiwass "old sir," as though he hadn't seen him.
But that wasn't possible.
This elf, who resembled a human of about thirty years, was probably more than a hundred years old.
Having been living among the masses as a wild elf, his elven heritage gave him superior perception and mory than humankind.
Even hooded, Aiwass's physique couldn't be mistaken for an old man.
The bartender should have recognized him from his boots or the tip of his chin.
Had Oswald been here rather than Haina, he'd have instantly recognized the bartender's too-conscious performance.
—Several days ago, Aiwass t his two "pen friends" just here at the Pelican Bar.
And he had been noticeable.
The "Pelican Bar" was particularly selected by his pen friends.
At that ti, Aiwass was able to walk around freely, nimble and in good shape, and preferred to keep his encounter with demonologists a secret, so he ca alone.
Not knowing the surroundings, he departed close to two hours ahead of schedule, getting a coachman to take him directly to the Pelican Bar.
Honestly, without the coachman, Aiwass may not have discovered it—who'd think the Pelican Bar was not called "Pelican"?
Showing up more than an hour prior to the 5 p.m. appointnt, he had brought a book to while away the ti.
It was a Star Antimony occult book, Alchemical Cipher.
Alchemists of the [Balance] Path, apprehensive their knowledge might disturb worldly balance, employed obscure terms in writing and discourse.
As examples, "king," "queen," and "empress" represented other substances.
Similarly, "sun," "moon," "toad," or "dragon" referred to particular materials.
According to their secret principle, every alchemist applied distinct ciphers, no common jargon.
They maintained private codebooks, instructed discreetly to apprentices, while experienced peers could deduce aning from context.
It was a matter of "those who get it, get it; those who don't, won't."
Alchemical Cipher outlined traditional ciphers, including a formula for "antimony glass," a weakly poisonous etic.
Altering the formula created "rcurial antimony," a sweet, syrupy, extrely poisonous liquid.
Poisonous information—just the sort of forbidden knowledge that exhilarated Aiwass.
In the crowded bar, he sat in a corner, reading the book, not paying attention to the ti until almost 6 p.m., when his pen friends tapped on his shoulder.
At first, Aiwass was going to go there briefly and then leave.
Not because of suspicion, but because safety in Lloyd District was questionable.
With the Strangler Gang around, even a late taxi wasn't assured to be safe.
But it was ti for dinner, and their conversation over cocktails beca spirited and exhilarating.
Aiwass spent a White Crown on a grand dinner for his "friends," allowing the change to buy rounds for other patrons.
—His friends promised to walk him ho safely.
They chatted late after dinner, leaving the bar at past 10 p.m.
"Midnight is best for calling demons," the bald man had said. "They're most active at that hour.".
"Ritual lasts about an hour. It's the ideal ti… want to do it yourself?"
In hindsight, they'd probably seen right through Aiwass's intense passion for forbidden knowledge over those hours, knowing he just couldn't keep away.
They'd intentionally picked this bar and shown up late.
During dinnerti, hungry, with others dining around them, they wouldn't look anywhere else.
So, the "Noble Red" demonologists purposely picked the Pelican Bar and kept him from leaving elsewhere.
Did that imply they thought this establishnt downright safe?
A well-grood, good-looking young man from respectable society, in a dingy bar filled with workers and sailors, reading a book for two hours on half a pint of light beer.
—Could a bartender with a good mory forget him?
Even a human bartender would rember such an anomaly for a month, as gossip or ridicule.
Especially since the Pelican Bar was not busy—fewer than thirty custors a night.
This bartender was surely suspicious.
His affected ignorance of Aiwass's identity betrayed fear.
Aiwass's cloak told him he didn't want to be recognized, so the bartender went along, hoping to get him to let his guard down and give him ti.
By taking on the "old sir" persona, Aiwass would avoid straight talk, stalling confrontation.
"Mr. Ademar, yes?" Aiwass unexpectedly said beneath his hood.
"Waiting for soone?"
He had heard the bartender's na from custors the last ti.
"…What?" Haina turned, unsure.
"You know him?"
She looked at Aiwass but noticed no significant reaction.
Turning once more, she saw the bartender's obvious shock and hesitation.
Her senses prickled, feeling she'd gotten it.
Before she could question him, Aiwass laughed, as if affirming sothing.
"Haina."
His tone was gentle, like that of a superior or preceptor.
Unlike previously, he did not graciously address her as "Senior" but addressed her by her na directly, like an order.
However, this tone brought Haina, trained to obey, to alert attention.
"Yes!"
She advanced, half-covering Aiwass, intent and waiting for his next order.
"Draw your sword—"
Aiwass commanded.
Despite not knowing what was occurring, Haina obeyed without question, drawing her elven blade.
The knife slipped from its scabbard like sothing alive, radiating pure white light.
A blinding beam lit up the already sunny noon bar.
Silver-white halos flashed in Haina's lake-blue eyes, echoing with the [Authority] Path.
The power in her bloodline surged, saturating her limbs.
A shockwave emanated from her, shattering wine bottles on the shelves like clanging wind chis.
The few custors leapt, racing for the door.
The bartender’s face changed, his heart racing.
—*I’m exposed? How?*
Panicked and baffled, he abandoned restraint.
Taking a deep breath, sothing writhed beneath his skin, bulging outward.
Purple veins spread from his lower eyelids, webbing across his face.
Only the area around his mouth and chin—where a beard might grow—remained clear.
As he inhaled, the purple veins glowed brighter; exhaling, they dimd.
The pattern grew like a curse from his sleeves into his fingertips.
"Demonologist—" Haina saw the signs, or so she believed.
Transcendents might employ mystical arts and materials to exercise power beyond combat.
But in serious combat, tapping Path powers involved resonating with one's Path.
Resonance differed from person to person, but included the Path's identifying color.
White for the Authority Path, such as diamonds; purple for the Transcendence Path, such as athyst.
She did not know what the exact profession of the wild elf was, but it was definitely Transcendence Path.
And Transcendence was forbidden!
So, let us imagine that he is a demonologist—
—*Aiwass actually found him!*
She was delighted.
She didn't have any idea how Aiwass identified the flaw—she had seen nothing.
But in battle, this was her territory!
Noticing the wild elf's purple-webbed body, Aiwass rembered his na.
Ademar, "Old One" of the "Sin Hub Pelican Bar," the "Sinful Bartender"!
The vision of a thick, stooping, chest-bare man with radiant deep purple veins on his torso blended with the expanding wild elf before him.
—Aiwass had only wanted Haina to scare him, put so pressure.
He never thought the bartender would crack so soon, change under the slightest prodding!
They'd found their mark!
(End of Chapter)
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