Andrew stood at the entrance of the Wandering Bar, eyeing the large frog squatting by the door.
Noon—especially Monday to Friday afternoons—the pedestrian street's traffic was exceptionally sparse, resulting in even fewer patrons at the Wandering Bar.
Commissioner remembered very clearly, when he was a student, the frog at the bar's entrance looked just the same: short, plump, lazy, wearing an expression of perpetual drowsiness. Though it was an alchemical creature, it was extremely cunning. If someone slipped it a can of fruit flies, this frog would not hesitate to favor the briber with a higher-ranking hand card.
"Official visit, thank you."
The Trident Sword's commissioner politely exchanged pleasantries and waved his badge in front of the frog. The frog squinted its eyes, scrutinized for a long time, and after confirming that the wizard who resembled it was not making any further moves, impatiently opened its mouth and spat out a card covered in fruit fly remnants.
