Estimating that her outing wouldn't take more than four hours, Angel didn't explain her destination to Clement; she simply greeted Daly and then left the "Silver Bullet Detective Agency."
She had originally planned to go to the location of the "Craftsman" provided by the "Hanged Man" to figure out what exactly the revolver in her hand — which had inexplicably absorbed Beyonder characteristics — was used for. But after learning from Daly that the Night Watchers had already set their sights on the "Tarot Club," she decided to look into that matter first.
The port district was near the steam train station, and not too far from the Night Watchers' base. However, Angel was unfamiliar with the streets of Emmat Port, so she didn't attempt to walk there. As she had when she arrived, she hired a carriage.
This time, she asked the price in advance.
Munching on a fish cake she'd bought on the street before getting in, she gazed out the window at the rapidly passing street scene. The aroma of mashed fish and potatoes fried in oil mingled in her mouth, and the salty, fishy sea breeze blowing into the carriage reminded her of her hometown.
As the second-largest port city in the Loen Kingdom, Emmat Port handled a large volume of maritime shipping. As the carriage passed through the Golden Apple District and Oak District and gradually entered the port district, the roadside warehouses and processing plants increasingly replaced residences and shops.
Naturally, the busy workers and towering piles of cargo were also unavoidable.
If not for the spectacular coastline that appeared before her, Angel would have almost thought she was back in Tingen City's dock area.
Unfortunately, the nearshore seawater was not a graceful indigo blue but rather a gray-green, mixed with floating debris, oil stains, and overgrown microorganisms.
If someone came to Emmat Port hoping to see the sea, they would surely be disappointed…
Looking at the chaotic port docks, Angel shook her head disdainfully, paid the fare after getting off, and walked toward the "Carrion Bird" tavern.
Compared to the various bars hidden in the dark corners of Tingen City, the proprietors in Emmat Port were clearly much bolder. The "Carrion Bird" had taken over an entire three-story building. Almost all the windows on the first and second floors were open, with loud shouts and angry roars spilling out without restraint, while the third floor was mostly covered by curtains, completely out of place with the environment below.
Perhaps because they frequently entertained travelers from all over, the guards at the door were dressed rather formally. In their tailcoats and top hats, they looked more like attendants at a high-end club than gatekeepers.
One of the "attendants" opened the door to welcome Angel inside. The noise, already quite clear outside, instantly merged into a tidal wave that surged toward her.
The entire first floor of the "Carrion Bird" had been opened up into a single large room. Dozens of sets of tables and chairs were arranged haphazardly around the central bar counter. It was now afternoon, a rest period, and the tables were about seventy to eighty percent full. There were port workers in work clothes, local residents in casual outfits, and foreign travelers with exotic styles.
In one corner of the room, an area enclosed by railings appeared to be used for boxing matches. But this sport wasn't very popular in Emmat Port. Instead, most tables were covered with playing cards, where "card friends" drank beer while playing various games, and more or less all of them had cash bets on the side.
It seemed that this place was more of a "casino" than a "bar"… and they didn't like dogfighting or boxing matches as betting games; instead, they preferred the more universally played card games.
Angel's gaze swept over the gambling tables. After a rough glance around, she didn't spot anyone or anything of interest and walked toward the bar counter in the center.
Several bartenders were busy refilling the empty mugs brought back by the servers or mixing cocktails for the customers sitting at the bar. One of them glanced up casually when Angel approached and asked offhandedly:
"What'll you have? The prices are posted outside the bar; anything not crossed off is still available. If you want a cocktail, you'll have to wait."
He reached across the bar and patted the outside to signal Angel to check the price list herself, then withdrew his arm and casually picked up two wooden mugs, bending down to refill them.
"I want to buy something from the underground market — where do I go?"
Angel didn't look at the price list but followed Daly's instructions and directly asked about the location of the underground trading market.
"Hmph, next time, if you're not buying a drink, just say so earlier… by the back door, up the stairs, third floor."
The bartender grumbled in dissatisfaction over the failed upsell before answering Angel's question.
"Thank you."
Angel could understand his mood. She took out two pence and placed them on the bar, successfully softening the bartender's attitude, then headed straight to the back door of the tavern.
The back door was tightly chained shut. To the left were several individual washrooms; to the right, pressed against the wall, was a carpeted staircase.
A strange layout — probably added later.
Ascending the stairs, the second floor consisted of two corridors extending to either side, with red carpet covering every corner. Finely decorated wooden doors stood half-open or shut, and from inside came noise no less boisterous than that of the first floor.
Paying no attention to these "private rooms," Angel continued up to the third floor.
The "underground market" at the top of the tavern similarly occupied the entire floor. But perhaps because it wasn't yet the traditional trading time at night, there were few people here at the moment. Angel counted less than twenty: most were manning stalls or displaying goods on tables for sale, while a few visitors like her wove among the wares, occasionally asking about prices.
Two guards stood yawning at the stairway, as if convinced this small crowd wouldn't stir up any real trouble.
Compared to the wide-open entrance, the surrounding windows were all drawn with curtains, making the room somewhat dim. The faint glow from the gas lamps on the walls and support columns cast a layer of mystery over the crowd engrossed in trading.
Using her dark vision to scan the entire market, Angel did not spot Miss "Justice."
After several Tarot Club meetings, even though there was the barrier of the mysterious gray fog, she had already memorized the outlines of "Justice" and the "Hanged Man" — their heights, builds, and hairstyles. Although they had never officially met in person, as long as they appeared before her, she was confident she could recognize them.
Perhaps the person wasn't truly "always in the market" as the rumors said, and it just happened that she hadn't run into them… Angel stood by the stairs for a moment, pondering, and decided she'd better ask someone directly.
She walked over to a merchant selling various common materials, squatted down in front of the stall, pretended to be interested in the goods, picked up a bottle of pale yellow powder, and asked:
"What kind of powder is this?"
The vendor was a middle-aged woman, with many traces of age left on her body. Seeing a customer approach, her weathered face squeezed out a smile.
"This is mummy powder. I got it from Backlund. It's popular among the nobility there to take potions containing this — whether male or female, once you use it, you'll… ah, you'll know when you try. This bottle has 10 grams, only 10 pounds."
That price was almost on par with star crystal, which was the main ingredient in potions and could also be used to make all sorts of special-effect ammunition and charms.
And judging from the vendor's description, this stuff seemed to have some rather… special effects…
Suppressing her curiosity, Angel put down the glass bottle filled with mummy powder and picked up a few scales tied with string beside it.
"These are glowing lizard scales? How much for all of them?"
…
After asking several prices, Angel more or less figured out the price level in Emmat Port.
Items used to make charms or for various rituals, because of their large circulation, were priced almost the same as in Tingen City's underground market. But rarer goods were priced completely at whim — some were so cheap she even felt the urge to resell them, while others were so expensive it was as if they were never meant to be sold.
After her repeated price inquiries, the middle-aged woman was getting a bit impatient. Seeing this, Angel pulled out some money and bought the glowing lizard scales. As the vendor helped pack them up, Angel casually asked:
"I heard there's a young woman here who calls herself 'Justice,' who likes to buy all sorts of rare and strange things? I've got some good stuff to sell — is she here now?"
"'Justice'… ah, you mean that girl. She has indeed bought quite a few things from me before, and she never haggles… but she didn't come today. If you're looking for her, you can leave a message on that blackboard over there. She'll reply when she sees it and arrange a time to meet."
Following the middle-aged woman's pointing finger, Angel saw a blackboard about three meters wide hanging on one side of the room. About two-thirds of it was already covered in writing, the handwriting varying from delicate to bold — clearly from different people.
After thanking the woman, she walked up to the blackboard and began reading the messages.
"Urgently seeking large quantities of various herbs, price negotiable, open to long-term cooperation, Sunday night at 10."
"Selling two bottles of aphrodisiac potion, five pounds per bottle, guaranteed effect, here every afternoon."
"Anyone know where \&#￥ is? Offering a twenty-pound reward for leads, contact the manager at 'Brave Arms Shop' on Pitts Street." — This message had the name part erased by someone.
…
It seemed this blackboard served as a kind of notice board for the entire market, where anyone could post things seeking buyers, sellers, or information, with time or location notes making it easier for interested parties to find each other.
After reading through all the messages, Angel finally found the one she was looking for.
"(Please stop erasing my messages) Buying 'star crystal' and 'lava octopus blood,' any quantity, price negotiable, please leave a message for Miss 'Justice.'"
The familiar material names made Angel's breath hitch.
She had memorized the full formula when Old Neil prepared the "Seer" potion for Klein, and both of these main ingredients were listed on the blackboard.
This made her once again suspicious of "Justice's" identity.
The Tarot Club's Miss "Justice" had already successfully consumed the potion a week ago and become a "Spectator" — this was a fact confirmed by Mr. Fool.
Then the one in the "Carrion Bird Tavern"'s market buying Seer potion ingredients… could it really be her?
Or had "Justice" obtained another potion formula through other channels and was helping someone else look for materials?
Angel hesitated for a moment, then picked up the chalk placed beside the blackboard and left a message in an empty spot:
"Selling small quantities of 'star crystal,' Friday night 8–10 p.m."
That's all for today…