It didn't take long for them to reach the bazaar, but in Declan's surprise, the seller he thought was a gentleman was actually a lady in her mid-forties.
Before approaching her, they stopped for a few seconds before following her into her workshop.
"You must be the store owner?" Declan's voice echoed behind the seller.
She was sliding stray trimmings off the block and into a wooden scrap tub. The workspace around her was small and dim, and the air was tinged with the cold iron. Hooks rattled softly overhead, swaying with every movement she made.
Her hands paused mid-motion.
"Who's asking?" She asked, turning to face the stranger.
Declan cleared his throat as the seller looked at him with a predatory expression on her face.
"...We're detectives, and we were hoping to ask you a few questions," Declan said hesitantly, slowly rolling his gaze, looking at the meat on the block.
"Detectives? I didn't know this town had those?" The seller said.
"But if you're indeed detectives, why in the world would ya wanna ask me questions?" She added, her expression unchanged.
Declan paused for a second. Nowa shrugged, watching him with an eye, and waiting to see how Declan would respond to the lady's question.
Declan responded, "The questions we wanna ask you ain't about you, but a young fellow we met this morning."
The seller's brow furrowed with confusion because she had no idea what the men in front of her were talking about. This was a market, and a lot of young people came there to buy a variety of things. Saying ' a fellow' without specifying their looks was confusing for her.
"Sorry, but I have no clue who you're going on about." She paused, shifting her head and facing the block she was on before the detectives interrupted her.
"If ya want information from me, then ya have to be specific."
Before Declan could say anything else, Nowa quickly described the person they were talking about. "A young person about the same height as me, but with messy black hair that was covering his face."
"Hmm?" The seller muttered with interest because the moment Nowa mentioned that the person they were looking for had messy hair, she knew exactly who they were talking about.
Declan only stayed quiet as Nowa started to shake subtly. And with the seller's reaction, Declan knew that they'd hit the mark to keep their investigation adrift.
"It seems you've got something?" He asked.
"Yeah, but why'd ya be investigating someone like him? Did he do something worth looking into?"
"No, but we just wanna know about his living conditions, like what he does for a living, and where he used to live before moving into the apartment he's staying in currently?"
The seller started laughing dramatically while turning back to face the detectives again.
Did Sir say something funny? Nowa wondered, trying to figure out what was going on.
"...Uh, what's the matter?" Declan asked, and he was also interested in figuring out what was funny about his statement.
"Nothing, nothing, it's just that you're busy wasting ya time on the person you're looking for."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
The seller sighed, trying to get herself together before everything else.
"That person is a nobody, and if ya so interested in finding out what he does, let me tell ya, he's my employee." She stopped, her expression started to turn grave again as she pulled out a small knife that looked similar to Jack's.
The detective's eyes flicked to the knife, instantly recognizing it. Their interest spiked, while at the same time, they started having second thoughts about proceeding with the questioning, because the seller was intimidating enough unarmed, and now that she had a blade in hand, things seemed hopeless.
"Is that so?" Declan uttered, switching between the blade and the seller.
"But how come he had a lot of meat with him? Did you give it to him, or maybe it's the other way around?" He added.
"What?" The seller remarked, her grave expression darkening further.
Declan and Nowa flinched.
"Oh, bout that, he actually bought the meat. "What? You thought he just took it for free."
Declan slightly adjusted the collar on his coat, getting his thoughts together before they wasted more time worrying over nothing.
"No, he seemed nice, and I also highly doubt that he's the kind of person to take things without asking... But that being said, how much did he pay for all of that meat, and how much is the rent for the establishment he's living in? Does he live alone or with someone else? And when did he start working for you?"
He asked with a serious expression, though he perfectly knew that there was someone else living with Jack.
"Those are some questions." The seller muttered, slowly shifting back the blade where she had taken it.
"I can manage to answer a few of them, or none of them, but since I'm a busy person, I'll try my best to provide the best answers possible so ya can get out of my workshop." She paused, inhaling some of the rusted air around them.
"He paid me 3 gold pieces for all the meat parts he showed ya."
3 gold pieces? Surprised, Nowa and Declan both wondered at the same time as the seller continued.
The reason they were taken aback was simple: spending several gold pieces at once was no small matter. Such recklessness wasn't something an ordinary person could afford—it was the kind of behavior reserved for those who had wealth to spare, people with coins to toss around without a second thought, like nobles or the exceptionally well-to-do.
"'Bout his living expenses, I have no idea how he manages to afford that, but I think that home's cheaper than it looks. And 'bout him living with someone… yeah, I have no idea, 'cause I never asked him."
"He started working for me about a year ago."
"What makes you think that apartment is cheaper than it looks?" Nowa asked.
A second later, Declan nodded, agreeing with Nowa's question.
The seller coughed and scratched at her head, as if fishing for an answer, but her expression alone showed that she wasn't capable of pulling up a lie.
"I mean, have you seen the interior of that building?" She asked. Declan and Nowa looked at each other for a second before Declan answered.
"No."
"Exactly." The seller said as she turned away, her tone final, and within moments, the detectives were left standing in silence.
....
They soon left the bazaar and were on their way back to the mayor's office. Nowa was scribbling notes about what they had done during the investigation in a small, worn brown notebook.
Declan stood off to the side, puffing thoughtfully on a cigarette as he mulled over their next move. The investigation they had just concluded had opened more doors than it had closed, leaving a tangle of questions in its wake.
Suddenly, Declan started laughing, his voice sweeping the empty road ahead of them.
"What's the matter, sir?" Nowa asked.
"Nothing, it's just we've stumbled upon something we weren't supposed to be involved in," Declan stated, putting away the cigarette he was smoking in a trash can next to where they were standing.
Nowa blinked, perplexed. He knew that they had uncovered things they weren't supposed to uncover, yet he couldn't grasp what was so amusing about it.
A moment later, the vehicle that had carried them earlier when they left the mayor's house was coming straight towards them at a fixed amount of speed.
Declan and Nowa watched as it stopped right in front of them.
Is this the same vehicle from before? Declan wondered.
"What're you doing here? Come on, get in." The driver said, looking out the half-opened window as Declan Nowa tilted his head in confusion.
"Who are you?" He asked.
The driver flashed a smile and responded, "You can just call me Peterson. Nice to meet you, by the way."
How odd?
"Come on, let's just get in and see what we can do bout what we've found," Declan uttered, opening the door as he glanced at Nowa and the Peterson.
Nowa followed, as Peterson sealed the half-opened window.
"Hold on to something!" Peterson shouted, gripping the gear lever tightly as Nowa looked at Declan with uncertainty written across his face.
Without wasting a second, the vehicle jerked forward, tires screeching slightly against the rough road, then slid backward for a brief, tense moment. It paused for just a heartbeat before lunging ahead, its engines roaring, gaining full speed as dust and gravel kicked up.
Some people who had been enjoying themselves in the middle of the cobblestone road suddenly scattered, panic overtaking their laughter as the vehicle hurtled toward them at breakneck speed.
Some of the pedestrians started shouting after the speeding vehicle as it passed them.
"Watch where you're driving that thing!" one yelled.
"Sorry! But I'm in a bit of a hurry!" Peterson called back over the roaring sound of the engine.
Declan just stared at him with his jaw slightly dropped, knuckles white as he gripped the edges of the window frame, barely managing to keep himself steady as the vehicle jolted.