Chapter 115: Problems Before the Festival [4]

"Any developments on the case?"

"None, unfortunately."

As Brandon asked, Raven responded in return.

"Alright."

"Hm?"

Raven tilted his head. Brandon seemed less dejected than he should be.

"I didn't expect that kind of reaction."

"If things don't work out I've got it all sorted out."

"What do you mean?"

"I've got us a sponsor."

"Oh?"

Raven's eyes lit up.

"Who?"

"Amelia."

"Ah."

Then...

That meant there was no point in following up on the case, right?

"Do you still want to solve the case then?"

"I want to. But honestly, I'm really exhausted."

"Then what about the cost?"

"She's covering for it."

"Brandon..."

Noticing the displeasure on Raven's face, Brandon waved his hand to calm him down.

"Not for free, of course."

"Oh."

"Yeah, I've got it covered. Don't worry about me."

"...Alright."

At that, the brief conversation ended and the two immediately parted ways.

Staring at Brandon's departing back, Raven secretly clenched his fist.

His friend...

Once again, he was handling everything on his own.

"Damn it. Rely on us more, dude."

He clenched his fist even more tightly.

And he muttered to himself.

"We're friends, aren't we?"

***

A few days had passed.

It was currently a weekend.

A Sunday.

And a weekend meant...

...Another trip to Everglade.

Entering the tavern, all eyes immediately fell on Brandon.

The room was lively at first. But as soon as he arrived, silence gripped the entire surrounding.

Then...

"Ripper, welcome back."

"Good to see you, Ripper."

"Another subjugation today?"

Brandon didn't respond with words but he nodded his head to reply.

"As quiet as ever, eh...?"

"He only talks to Smith, I'm jealous."

"Don't tell me you swing that way, man?"

"Don't twist my words, Erick."

The lively commotion continued and Brandon made his way towards the counter.

Seated on a stool, Brandon fixed his attention towards a certain bartender who was pouring a drink.

"The usual, right?"

"Yeah."

There was a certain feature that the Mirage Mask had.

If he poured mana in it, the blue runic symbols would glow and Brandon would be able to contort the mask into any shape.

Grabbing the wooden goblet, Brandon gulped down the drink.

Thump!

And as soon as he finished, he smacked it back down on the table.

"Another?"

"Nah, this is enough."

"Alright."

What Smith considered as Brandon's usual was none other than 'brandy'.

Brandon had never had anything like it, be it in his past life, and his current life.

But as soon as he heard about the drink, he suddenly grew curious.

Not because of the drink itself.

But it was because of...

'What does a drink with the name 'Brandy' taste like?'

Yeah.

It was because of the name.

"Hehe."

Brandon then pointed at the glass of brandy behind Smith.

"Drinking."

Smith pinched his chin and pondered for a while.

His eyes then lit up and he opened his mouth.

"On one condition."

"Sure."

"Show me your face."

"..."

No.

A definite no.

Shady guys like Smith could sell him out anytime.

They were friends.

But Smith was also a professional.

It would be an idiotic move if he revealed himself just because they were friends.

Noticing his hesitation, Smith waved him off.

"Alright, alright. I respect that. But I'll be drinking something else."

"What?"

Thump!

Smith set an alcohol glass down.

On it displayed 'Black Label'.

And as Brandon read the text underneath, his eyes widened. Not like Smith could see.

"96% Alcohol?! You're a lunatic."

"Lunatic?"

Smith shrugged and started pouring the alcohol on his own wooden mug.

"This much is nothing."

He then gulped it down as Brandon's mouth was left agape.

Thump!

"See? Completely fine."

"..."

Smith then had an idea as he spoke up.

"Since you've asked me to join you. It's only right if I request something from you, right?"

"..."

Brandon had an inkling on where this was going.

"Drinking match."

"Uh...?"

"Don't back off now. I'll pour just a bit on your brandy. You can accept those terms, right?"

"...What do I get if I win?"

"What do you usually ask when you come here?"

What is he...

Ah.

"Information."

"Yep."

"About what?"

"Something that might catch your interest."

It was then when Smith started talking about a secret organization.

One that Brandon was all too familiar with.

Smith left it at 'secret organization'. But that was enough for Brandon to accept.

If his conjecture was correct, then Smith was most likely talking about the Primordials.

How he got the information, Brandon couldn't even begin to ponder.

"Alright, I accept your terms."

At that, the two began their drinking match.

And at the end of it...

"Fucking.. Shmith... Justh let me... Buy thath... Informashon off of you."

"No can do, Ripper. This is top quality stuff."

"Then... Hic... I demandth... A remastch..."

"Nah man, you can't even speak properly anymore."

Noticing how drunk Brandon was, Smith left his desk and offered his shoulder.

"There's a spare room upstairs. Use that."

"G-get... Hic... Off me.... And... Rematsch!"

"No, come on, Ripper let's go."

"Ripper... Who... The fucksh... thath?"

Brandon wobbled around as Smith tried to help him up the stairs.

"My... Nameshh... Nmhhh!"

Smith then covered his mouth before Brandon could utter his next words.

He was, of course, curious.

But Smith respected Brandon and their friendship.

"Nmhhh...!"

"Stop talking before you'll regret it."

Smith then pushed Brandon into the room and locked the door.

Thump!

Brandon immediately slumped down and laid on the cold wooden floor.

"Khhh...."

And he passed out.