"In my opinion... Young lord," Lawrence, perched on Ansel's shoulder, scratched its head. "If you're looking for a sheep-selling shop, why not ask me?"
"I didn't come to the black market specifically for this."
Ansel, slicing the fruit on his plate, spoke calmly, "It's just a whim."
"...A whim, huh."
The plump rat climbed down from Ansel's shoulder, obediently lying at the edge of the table, not saying much else.
Three years ago, my young lord, wielding Gleipnir, cut from one end of the street to the other, seemingly on a "whim" as well. Does this mean another grand spectacle is about to unfold?
-official
— That would be splendid!
Of course, while Lawrence enjoys interesting events, it doesn't mean he's deliberately hoping for Ansel to provide entertainment.
The rat, wagging its tail on the table, lifted its tiny head to look at the ever-perfect young lord, sighing inwardly.
At young lord's age, the boss was either playing with young ladies or living a carefree life on the path of manifesting divinity... That was cool.
Hydral's "human" life is from bliss to pain, however, my young lord never enjoys the supreme authority brought by the divine species at an age unaffected by the world's erosion. Instead, he ponders this and that every day, as if he's planning something from dawn to dusk... How could this be!
If there's any trouble, why not let the boss blast everything away with Nostrom! If one isn't a bit willful, how could one be called Hydral?
With these thoughts and feelings, Lawrence, when Ansel asked him to be the guide, secretly made up his mind to make sure the young lord had a good time today — so he could also enjoy the show.
"So, Ansel, when are you going to smash that shop?"
But... since Ansel said so, I'll bear with it. After all, Ansel will definitely handle it!
Lawrence just wanted Ansel to have a good time, Marlina was carefully thinking about how to find Ansel's knot, and Seraphina believed that Ansel would definitely teach those bad guys a good lesson.
Pure, intimate, simple... no matter what kind of thoughts, they were all revolving around Ansel, who was now quietly wiping his mouth with a napkin.
It was Seraphina who suggested going out to play, and Ansel's original intention was to let the sisters relax. But the focus circled back to Ansel.
And what Ansel was thinking about now, Lawrence couldn't figure out, Marlina couldn't guess through, and Seraphina wouldn't think about it.
"Let's go." The young Hydral put down his napkin and smiled, "It's about time for that shopkeeper friend to show us the way, to see who has started this trade in the past three years."
*
Having concluded his midday meal, the Diplopod closed his stall early today.
He had anticipated fleecing a wealthy patron, yet to his astonishment, he could not discern the fabric of that young man's attire.
The mask adorning the youth's face was of superior quality, equipped with a potent spell to thwart any probing magic. Drawing upon his years of experience in the black market, he surmised that this must be a young lord, seeking to impress his paramours with tales of the notorious black market.
Such naive individuals, lacking discernment and stubbornly prideful, were easy prey — one strike and they were done for.
As for the risk of crossing paths with someone of consequence... preposterous! The city's preeminent fence, Diplopod, harbored no such fears. With each transaction, he would alter his location and appearance, who on earth could find him?
However, instead of the anticipated easy mark, he found himself ensnared in a trap.
— The memory of his old friend's shocked expression over lunch was indelible in his mind.
"What? You sold it for a mere two hundred gold coins?"
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