Chương 19: Book 1, Chapter 19: Casting a Wide Net

John strode into the blacksmith's shop, a bell ringing as the door swung open. Yuki and Yashiro were not far behind him, the former wearing an expression of dry amusement and the latter of moderate confusion. The rich smell of charcoal and flame hit him like a wall, and he breathed it deeply. He could barely pick out the scent of burnt metal underneath, and it was… familiar, almost comforting, as his own workshop sometimes smelled a bit like this, even if the aroma was a bit weaker.

The space was divided into two sections. Up front was a quaint storefront with various little bits of metalworking lining the shelves. The closest thing to a weapon amongst their number was a spear, and the rest were purely utilitarian projects. Things like wood axes, buckets of nails of various sizes, cookware, and more behind the counter. There were some shelves out front, but none bore any goods, and they looked dusty as if nothing had been there for a while. Perhaps theft had become too much of a concern.

"I'll be with you in just a second!" called a coarse, deep voice from the backroom. Through the open door, John could see a dim and lightless forge beside a quenching basin and an anvil. Whatever he was working on evidently didn't need heat, and if John listened carefully, he thought he heard the scrape of him filing down metal before suddenly stopping. Moments later, a large, burly man bearing the horns of an ox came out from the back, having to turn his head sideways to fit through the door.

"What can I do you fo—" He stopped cold upon seeing John and Yuki before glancing at Yashiro.

"My apologies, I didn't know I'd be hosting such dignified company today. I'm afraid I don't have any tea to serve. Please forgive me." The words sounded rehearsed and stiff, and he occasionally glanced over to Yashiro for… reassurance, perhaps? John couldn't quite tell.

"Greetings, skilled blacksmith," Yuki beamed with a reassuring smile.

"Worry not; this is not a formal visit, and we don't seek to impose for long or plan to impose some great labour on you. We do need a few minutes of your time, however." The man shifted uneasily but steeled himself.

"Aye. How can I help you then, good lady, good lord?"

"How would you like to save money on firewood every winter?" John interjected. The room went quiet, and every eye went to him.

"W-what?" stammered the man. John took the magic welder out of his bag—he really had to come up with a better name for that thing—and a candle, lighting the latter. He headed back to the door, Yashiro hurriedly moving out of his way. Holding the candle up to the frame, John slowly moved it around until… There! The flame flickered.

"See? Come here." The man hurried over, and John felt a twinge of guilt. Now that he thought of it, given what social class he was pretending to occupy, that sounded more like an order than anything.

"The flame, my lord?" he cautiously inquired.

"Yes! See how it's leaning toward the building? There's a draft," John explained, picking his words more carefully so as not to include anything that sounded like an order.

"That there is, my lord," he agreed after slowly nodding, bringing one of his hands up to feel it himself.

"I'm afraid that this building wasn't built the best, and I didn't notice until after I bought it."

"I can fix that," John stated confidently. After putting down the candle, he pulled a small knife out of his bag before blasting the 'drafty' section with the welder, quickly jellifying the area with a good burst. Carefully, he used the blade's edge as a paddle, smooshing the semi-solid wood over to the door frame and sealing the invisible draft before re-solidifying it with a carefully sculpted blast of order magic. John held up the candle again and, seeing it stay still as expected, said, "There. Fixed."

"Thank you, my lord," the man replied, sounding unsure, with a bit of fear creeping into his voice, "But I'm afraid that I don't have the funds to pay for the services of an Unbound like you." Wait. Shit, this sounded a lot like some sort of absurd scam, didn't it? It was almost like taking someone's picture and then trying to get them to pay up at a tourist hotspot, but with building renovations backed by implied supernatural might.

"No, no, no," he blurted, hurriedly clarifying, "This is a free sample to show what I can do; a no-commitment needed test drive, that's all. Besides, we weren't looking to charge you money anyhow." The blacksmith sagged in relief; although buried under that, curiosity and worry were clearly written on his face.

"What do you wish for then, my lord?"

"Access to your ledger," Yuki cut in.

"We're investigating something, and your cooperation would be appreciated." Fresh terror racked the man's face, and his whole body tensed like he was about to be struck.

"We're not with the tax collectors that have been bleeding this town dry, nor will this information make its way back to any related bureaus in any fashion," she reassured the man after leaving him to wallow in his terror for a few seconds that couldn't be good for his heart. He de-tensed again, and John swore the man aged five years in an instant. Poor bastard.

"Ah, well," he stammered, shakily standing back up, "I suppose I can do that. May I ask what this is about?"

"You may not, although if all goes well, we might be able to announce it in the coming weeks. Rest assured, it is for the good of the people living in this city. We would ask you to not discuss this with anyone for the time being," she harshly commanded, staring down the blacksmith as he squirmed.

"My lady would be quite displeased if this was to get out early." Holy shit, Yuki, no need to make him think that he's about to be executed. He hurriedly nodded.

"Right away, ma'am," he stiffly said before hurrying away into the back like his ass was on fire.

"I'll just get going on this, then!" John called after him before turning to glance at Yuki. She seemed… unbothered, but he was unsure if that was due to her disguise or her truly not caring. He supposed that this was something they had to keep quiet, lest it somehow made its way back to whatever Greater Nameless controlled this whole operation, but that seemed a bit harsh. Perhaps that was just how Unbound were expected to act around here.

Yuki calmly smiled as he passed the notebook back to her, and she dipped her head gratefully.

"Later," she muttered, and he realized he wasn't keeping his expression as flat as it should and schooled it back into neutrality. Right. He was part of this illusion, too, wasn't he? The blacksmith returned, holding out a book.

"My apologies for the wait," he said, dispelling the tension between them.

"Excellent, and thank you," Yuki said, daintily plucking it from his hands and going to work scanning the pages. John, for his part, went back to draft testing, alone with his thoughts, despite being in a room with three others. The draft test was simple and not nearly as exhaustive as John would like, but he didn't have the time to spend a few hours on this. It was a small mercy that they arrived on a slow day and didn't have to come up with excuses for any inconvenient customers who wandered in.

He was sealing small cracks left and right, although mostly around window frames, the wooden panels themselves shut tight to keep the chill of the breeze out. He was tempted to improve them, too, but he ran the risk of welding them to the frame or one another, and that could very easily end up being an embarrassing several-hour fix. Soon enough, he had finished up in front and found himself wandering into the back. The workshop was surprisingly expansive, with plenty of tools, walls blackened by soot, and…

three anvils. Sure, one was smaller and shaped differently than the others, but the larger ones were almost identical, other than the one that was older and weathered. A newer addition, then? He must have an apprentice. It wasn't his business, in any case, even if he was curious. Maybe they had the day off. As he glanced around, it didn't escape his notice that the man had not-so-subtly placed himself by the door to see what John was doing, as if he might try to pocket the man's tools…

which was fair enough, to be honest. It was his livelihood.

"Might I ask your name?" John inquired, glancing over to him.

"Ogawa Daisuke, sir! Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier!" he quickly replied, stooping low into a bow. John bowed back, taken aback, although he kept it shallower in a manner he hoped was appropriate. Fortunately, Yuki had sprinkled in a few basic etiquette lessons with the language stuff. He'd hate to come across wrong, but he hoped the fact that he was obviously a foreigner would earn him a little leeway.

"They call me Lord John. Pleased to meet you." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. No more conversation was forthcoming, and tense silence reigned once more as he went to work on the room. After perhaps a half hour of work, he was finally done.

"There!" John exclaimed, walking back out into the front.

"That should save you a good chunk of wood per year. I didn't do the roof, given I don't have a ladder, but even this should help."

"Thank you, my lord," Daisuke demurely replied. John turned to Yuki.

"Do you need more time?" he asked, but she quickly shook her head.

"I was done a few minutes ago," she responded, nodding, and John immediately felt a bit guilty for keeping the ancient fox spirit waiting. It was… probably fine. Besides, if she wanted, she could absolutely tell him after, and he'd be happy to make it up to her somehow.

"Oh, and Daisuke? If anyone asks, we were here for a quote."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Then let us be off," John said, and, with one last nod to the sweating blacksmith, they left.

"Yashiro, would you mind leading us to a carpenter next?" Yuki asked once they slid the door shut behind them.

"Yes, my lady!" he quickly replied, shooting to the front of the pack to guide them. The roads were busier now, with the broad street having a small trickle of people on either side, although they all stayed WELL out of John and Yuki's way, and anyone who had to get close bowed as they passed. Perhaps word was starting to get around, which was a shame. All those eyes on him…

A shiver went up his spine, even if he logically knew nobody would risk attacking him, and his warding would take it without issue, regardless. It wasn't like back home, where one thrown rock could be the end of you if it hit in the wrong spot, but an entire evolutionary history of instincts was hard to ignore. Still, people were giving them space, and that's all he needed for now. Leaning over, he surreptitiously whispered to Yuki, "Find anything?" A faint smile played on her lips as she whispered back.

"Certainly. Daisuke was just about fouling his clothes because he's been evading taxes, for one. I know altered books when I see them, and based on the prices he's charging for his work? He's making a killing. Mr. Ogawa is probably one of the richest tradesmen in town." John blanched, and things suddenly made a lot more sense. Oh shit, he probably thought he was getting audited, didn't he? Two menacing "Unbound" walk into the store, flanked by the leader of the local militia…

Yeah, he'd be about ready to black out on the spot, too. Good thing he didn't know the truth about Yuki; that would probably have scared him straight into the grave. John chuckled.

"Still, this tells us something, yeah?"

"You're right," Yuki confirmed, "we'll have to check a few more places to be sure, but I think the hive is targeting certain finished goods alone, which is surprisingly devious for a nest this young. It's the perfect thing to target a town like this with."

"How so?" John inquired.

"The prices the blacksmith can charge and get away with say that there's a demand not being met. Normally, you'd expect trade to fill in the gaps, but it isn't, at least not enough," she explained, and realization flashed through him.

"The hive profits double from this. They get the items themselves, and if the prices skyrocket due to a shortage, the value of their hoard increases," John numbly muttered, shivering.

"Precisely," Yuki said, "and if we can find out what they're snatching…" She trailed off.

"We have our targets," he finished.

"We're here!" Yashiro loudly proclaimed, making John almost jolt, but he managed to stop himself before he did something unbecoming like jumping. The next few stops went similarly to the first, with Yuki scanning their books and taking notes while John sealed things up. Other customers tended to dry up in their presence, adding to his guilt as each one made their excuses and slipped away. With each point of data, the picture became more and more clear.

Raw material prices stayed pretty steady, minus the spike you apparently expected to see from a war, and perishables went pretty unmolested. Preserved foods, luxury goods, and any high-value reusable items, though? Caravans loaded with those were a lot more likely to "go missing" and drive the prices through the roof. Apparently, the trip was still safe enough that some would risk it for the massive margin. Still, it felt like there had to be something they were missing.

Their latest stop was a noodle shop, a family operation of moderate size with a rich, heady scent wafting out into the street before they even entered. It smelled almost like… Is something being deep-fried? Now that he thought of it, it was getting pretty close to lunch. A shame they didn't have any money. Hmm. The front was open, too; sadly, he might not be able to offer the same service as he had been.

Although the front could obviously close for the winter, judging by the interlocking panels off to the side, the good dozen people inside would probably find it a bit strange, to say the least.

"Welcome, welcome!" greeted an older lady as soon as they entered, bowing. Wait. She seemed familiar. Where had he seen her before? Despite him and Yuki hovering by Yashiro, she didn't miss a beat.

"Please, sit! What would you like?"

"Good afternoon," Yuki politely responded, tipping her head.

"I'm afraid we aren't here for food, sadly. It's nothing serious, but would you mind if I spoke to you in the back?"

"Of course, but the food's on the house! I saw you fine folk leading our darling militia back after what must have been quite a fight, and I'd feel awful if I didn't at least do something to thank you," she explained, waving it off.

"You too, Yashiro, you look stressed. Some noodles will fix you right up." John perked once he finally recognized her. Right! She was the "Granny Porridge" the militia greeted as they passed! That was nice of her; he supposed that sweet little old ladies were a universal constant. His stomach growled loudly, and he snapped out of his thoughts to behold said little old lady staring at him expectantly.

"Thank you," he sighed, knowing he couldn't get out of this one.

"Meet you after you're done?" he asked Yuki, and she nodded. He settled in, kneeling by a low table, and after a moment's hesitation, Yashiro settled diagonally from him.

"I'll have whatever he's having," John said, shrugging.

"One of the usual for me," Yashiro hurriedly replied.

"I'll decide on my way through the kitchen. Thank you," Yuki cheerily said. After noting the orders down on a tablet with her finger, Granny Porridge turned away to lead Yuki into the back. Wait. With her finger? John leaned out to catch a glimpse of the item; sure enough, it was a small tablet filled with wax. Shit, why didn't he think of that? It was simple and positively genius!

His paper supply would thank him, especially since, if all went well, he wouldn't have carts constantly "going missing" for him to loot supplies from soon. Hmm. He'd have to figure out some sort of income, especially after Yuki vetoed his lumber plan, and he certainly wasn't selling anything magical to the general populace. That sounded like a bad— Someone knelt across from him. He jolted, looking up to behold a… very angry-looking lady he had never seen before in his life.

She looked a bit younger than him, perhaps in her mid-twenties, and wore a bright kimono that went from white to intricate red floral patterns as you went further down its length. Her angry glare bore into him like a drill, but she said nothing. Long black hair with almost a hint of blue spilled down her back, two thin, branching, almost antler-like horns stuck out of her hair, and unnaturally red-slitted eyes stared back at him. He hadn't seen this type of animalistic marking…

anywhere, now that he thought of it, but what could it be? Deer with some hair dye and magical contacts? A thin tail lashed behind her, the black scaled mass bearing a fur tip and spine much the same colour as her hair, albeit a bit more blue. Snake? Some type of hybrid? The silence stretched into awkwardness. While a curvaceous figure, she was toned and coiled but… not at all ready to strike. Really, the way she was sitting would make it easier to jump away from him rather than at him.

He noticed the lovingly inscribed curved sheath for a sword hung by her side. Yashiro was also still there, wide-eyed and leaning away from the strange woman.

"Do you really think nobody would hear of what you're doing?" she spat, her honeyed voice at odds with the deep, guttural growl that rumbled in her chest. John blinked, shifting uneasily, and leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. The lightning focus was loaded and ready to go, pointedly vaguely in her direction in case she tried anything funny.

"I think you may have me confused with someone else; I haven't been in town until recently. Shall we talk this out and figure out what's going on?" John attempted to soothe her, but her expression flipped into rictus wrath.

"Do you think this is a joke?" She almost mockingly questioned, huffing. A harsh spike of Presence washed over him, which felt like an angry, hateful storm out at open sea, all freezing downpours, blistering winds, and booming thunder.

"I am the Wrath of the Wind! She of Thunder! The Storm of Steel! Fury—" She cut herself short upon beholding his blank expression. Notably, it was also much weaker than Yuki's, or even that of some of the yokai he fought in the past out amidst the trees. The customers, obviously finding the situation uncomfortable, started to leave fast, not even finishing their meals before rapidly shuffling out. John couldn't blame them.

This lady was clearly one of those mysterious Unbound he kept hearing about and was almost certainly mad. He hoped these two things weren't related; otherwise, he had a feeling he was in for a rough rest of his life.

"Please, my lady. This humble servant begs you to stay your hand!" Yashiro hurried to his feet before bowing. In his eyes, John could see something he had never expected in this world: the despondent fear of a retail employee dealing with an unhinged customer.

"This is Lord John. He speaks the truth!" She entirely ignored him as she stared John down, waiting for him to speak.

"Let's start over. My name is Hall John," he simply stated.

"It is good to meet you," he lied. She puffed up, throwing her hands onto the table, and as John braced for an attack, she shoved off and backflipped, spinning through the air before landing on the table behind her in what would best be described as a dramatic pose, pointing and glaring at him while her other hand rested on her blade.

"I, Nagahama Rin, challenge you to a duel! Your reign of terror over this valley ends today!" she boomed, a vicious-looking grin on her face. Was he having a stroke? This couldn't be real. This "Rin" stood there, keeping that pose to the sound of a dead silent restaurant as she stared him down, waiting for a response. Was he being pranked? No, he couldn't be. Doing that here would be suicidal. Maybe he fell asleep. Reaching under the table, he pinched his leg, confirming that he was, in fact, awake.

"What? No," he responded, "That's stupid."