After finishing the work of wiping out the "archespores," the Phantom Troupe took a boat across the lake. When they passed through the city gate, they went straight to the convenient "human line." The difference from the "nonhuman line" was that there was no harsh inspection.
"Mikul, thanks for your trouble." Victor showed his pass, and as he spoke he smoothly slipped two orens into the guard's palm.
The chill of the coins made Mikul's mouth curl upward. He rubbed his thumb along a chin covered in bluish stubble. "So it's the esteemed Mr. Victor. Welcome back!" He flicked his eyes toward the bulging cloth sack. "Congratulations—looks like today's haul was pretty rich, too."
With that, he waved them through. He also nodded and smiled at Angoulême behind Victor, but the girl didn't respond. Silent, she simply followed at the young man's heels.
"Captain, why do you bribe him every time we come through the gate? Even if you didn't, it should be fine. Our pass was issued by the guard themselves—he wouldn't dare make things difficult."
"But he's a decent guy, isn't he? Two orens and he doesn't even bother looking at what we're carrying, and he talks nice."
"Every morning when we head out, he calls, 'Have a wonderful day, sir!' And when we come back, he says, 'Hard work—what a great haul!' Isn't that pretty good? What's the problem?"
Angoulême glanced around, then stepped a little closer to her captain. With a blank face, she muttered in a low voice, "I want to kill him."
Victor's pupils widened slightly. He was genuinely startled—because Angoulême wasn't joking. She seriously wanted to erase that guard. Literally. Physically. Permanently.
"Why?" Victor asked.
"Instinct."
Victor didn't reject the ridiculous-sounding answer right away, because Angoulême's instincts had saved them more times than he could count. If she said it, there had to be a reason. Looking closer at her expressionless face, he noticed the shadow in her eyes.
"The way he looks at me is wrong. Right now he doesn't dare—but the moment he gets a chance, he'll do it. And he's definitely done it plenty of times before. That scum stench doesn't fool me."
The stench of scum? Victor blinked. To make even a girl like Angoulême—who still needed a firm dose of moral education—show this kind of open disgust, it probably wasn't simple robbery or murder. Thinking of what she'd been through in the past, Victor stopped pressing.
He considered it. Then, remembering some rumors he'd heard, he decided this might be a good chance to temper a member of his troupe.
"Two weeks," he said. "Find out how much evil he's done—but don't let anyone clearly realize you're investigating him."
"Then, based on what you learn, you'll plan how to remove him, and how to avoid any aftermath that might drag the Phantom Troupe into it. When you're done, submit a report to me. I'll decide whether the plan is executable."
"Show me what you've learned during this time."
Angoulême went stiff with surprise. She couldn't believe how easygoing Victor was being. She'd only intended to tell him her true thoughts—and she'd expected him to stop her. She'd even prepared his reasons for him: no indiscriminate killing, follow the rules, and so on.
"And if I spend half a month and still don't find anything wrong with him?" she asked.
"If you still want him dead by then, we'll kill him. A gate guard dropping dead all of a sudden isn't a big deal. We're freeblades, not judges. And with the way he pockets money like it's second nature, I don't care who claims he's clean and honest—I won't believe it."
"I'll add a reward, too. Investigation and planning included: if you do the whole thing cleanly, I'll cut your morning reading time in half. But if you can't dig up anything at all, or your plan is a mess, then don't complain that reading time is too long."
After laying out those terms and seeing the wild girl crack her knuckles with confidence, Victor felt a steady, satisfied fullness in his chest.
When he'd first arrived near the outskirts, he'd only needed one afternoon—paired with Arcane Impact—to hear plenty of rumors about all sorts of nasty things the gate guards had done.
So if Angoulême still couldn't produce "Captain, that bastard deserves a blade" proof after half a month, Victor figured he'd need to reflect on himself first: had he made a mistake somewhere in how he'd been training her?
"Then what are you going to do during this time?" Angoulême asked.
"I'll go see what contracts the Order of the Flaming Rose has. They helped us last time—now that we have time, we should repay it as soon as possible. Favors have to go both ways."
"Then I'll investigate this guy. If I'm not by your side, will it affect anything?"
"Don't overthink it. Like you said, acting alone is a growth opportunity. Besides, once the wanted notice goes out, that wandering mage won't still be hanging around Vizima."
"Outside the walls there's the Scoia'tael; inside the city there's the Order. Ramsmeat's gang will ignore us, Salamandra doesn't know us, and the Sheepmen aren't worth mentioning. Once we turn in the archespore contract, we'll even have a basis to build mutual trust with the city guard."
"To be blunt—in the Temple Quarter, we're 'untouchable.' Your captain won't go picking fights beyond his abilities. You can focus on your trial with peace of mind."
As they spoke, they stepped into the city guard's station. Victor saw what he expected and lifted a finger to point at the guard standing in the corner. "And that guy Jethro is addicted to fisstech—his finances won't be great. If you need to, you can try to make use of that."
Angoulême nodded to show she'd memorized it. "Captain, tonight, can you use alchemy to make me a few masks? Ordinary ones—the kind that are easy to buy."
"Bad girl. I'm getting more and more confident you'll succeed."
They broke off there, because Captain Vincent arrived.
Victor still remembered that when Ramsmeat from the Sheepmen mentioned him, he'd emphasized the word "handsome" to describe this captain—balding, with deep smile lines, the type who looked older than his years. The sarcasm had been obvious.
As a commoner, Victor felt reassured by the fact that the city guard system and the gangs didn't get along.
"I'm very happy to see you again, Ph… Phantom Troupe." Even though it hadn't been long since they last met, the captain being able to say the mercenary band's name correctly still surprised Victor a little.
Victor bowed slightly. "Good evening, Captain Vincent. I'm glad to see you again—and to report that the 'bloodthirsty plant' clearing contract is complete. In the records, they're referred to as 'archespores.'"
He set the cloth sack on the desk and opened it. "With the logging district overseer confirming the locations, Angoulême and I cleared a total of eight archespores along both sides of the main road. These are the shattered monster cores from the plants, brought as proof for the reward."
Captain Vincent casually picked up a dried, cracked, char-blackened core and inspected it. Then he laughed warmly, his belly making the lily badge on his chest bob. "Very well done. Worthy of the praise Sir Siegfried gives to a monster-slayer. And that 'Iron Fist' at the Hairy Bear last week—your performance lived up to that loud reputation."
A few simple lines made it clear he didn't know nothing about Victor. This captain clearly had some skill—no telling how much Temple Quarter intelligence was packed into that belly.
After praising Victor, he turned to Angoulême. "And you did very well too, Angoulême. I've already remembered the Phantom Troupe's name—this time you won't need to remind me again."
Being named and praised by the captain, Angoulême beamed and clumsily copied Victor's bow to thank him.
He didn't keep them waiting. Captain Vincent swiftly wrote out the withdrawal voucher, stamped it with a steel seal, and handed it to Victor. "Four hundred and fifty orens. Fifty orens of that is your 'opportunity' refund. Take it to any bank in the city and you can cash it."
"Hard work. Vizima likes you. The city guard welcomes you."
…
Once they left the station, Angoulême asked, "Vic—does the fourteen-day investigation deadline start counting from today?"
Vic hesitated. "Start tomorrow. Shani's coming over tonight to read at my place. You go back and wait for her first. I'll head to the Trade Quarter evening bazaar to pick up a few things. Dessert tonight is honeycake squares."
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