Chapter 32

"Just call me Mago."

"Right, Mago, then."

"No—not 'Mago, then.' Just Mago. There's no way that's my name."

"I was kidding, Mago. Help me unload this."

"Yes, Madam."

I followed her over to the cargo area.

"The other wagon's running late because it took the scheduled route—though I guess 'late' isn't the right word. You got here faster on your own."

"True. But I couldn't pretend not to see both checkpoints. It would've put my relative in a difficult spot, so I backed off."

"Yeah, you did well. The fact that your face gets you through the gates is a big win already."

"Madam Anne... what's inside the barrels?"

"Wine. Just wine."

"If it's just wine, why did we have to avoid the checkpoint?"

"The Empire hates this street—the Entertainment District. They want to curb my growing influence. Every month, if I exceed the quota they set, they block shipments from coming in. But I can't just stop doing business, can I? Can't scale back either. This is all money."

"Ah, so that's why..."

"Anyway, I'm glad we got this lot in safely. Can't say the same for the other wagon."

I set down an oak barrel near the entrance of Madam Anne's new shop.

"You did really well. Having a contact in the Imperial Army—especially a relative—is a big asset. Hope we work together a long time, Mago."

"Thank you."

I moved the remaining barrels as well.

"Mago, did you work at a place like this before? I hear you're pretty sharp for someone still new here."

"It wasn't a shop. I worked as a housekeeper. I used to be a slave."

"Huh? Really? Do they still sell people like you?"

She pointed at me as she asked.

It had been a while since I was treated like merchandise.

"No. Not anymore."

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a wooden plaque.

A pair of overlapping wings.

It was the Symbol of a Freeman that Kinzo had given me.

"Ah, pardon me."

"It's fine. It's not something I'm ashamed of."

"So you handle all the heavy lifting, huh? Word is you've got horse muscles. Mind if I feel?"

Her hand drifted toward my chest.

I clenched my fist behind my back.

If she tried anything, I'd twist her wrist...

"Just kidding."

Madam Anne shrugged.

"You can drive a wagon, you're strong, and you've got a contact in the Imperial Army. Hmm, not bad."

"What do you mean?"

"Mago, have you ever been up to the third floor?"

"No. You said I'm not allowed on the third or fourth floor yet. I've never even helped with closing."

"Closing? Ah, right. You're not at that stage yet. Don't worry about it."

"Saying that only makes me more curious. I'd like to help out."

"Trust me, you don't need to. That's for later."

Anne's expression stiffened slightly.

She was clearly hiding what happened after closing.

"Then what about the third and fourth floors? Can I go up there?"

"No to that too. Can't let a rookie handle the upper floors."

Even after this job, that wasn't going to change. Madam Anne liked me well enough, but letting me past the third floor was a separate matter.

"If you want to reach the third floor, work harder!"

She gave me a light slap on the back.

"Still... I do want to give you a task related to the third floor..."

"What is it?"

She glanced back at the wagon.

"After Anaconda closes, I'd like you to take the third-floor guests home."

"You mean drive them?"

"More or less. Not with the cargo wagon—use a proper carriage. Those third-floor customers stumble out completely hammered, barely able to stand. That's just how it is when you're up on three..."

"Guests looking for... a break from the norm."

"Exactly. So sometimes they collapse on the street before they even leave the alley. Sometimes they get robbed. It's a safety issue. If word gets around that Anaconda also handles security in the Entertainment District, that'll be a bonus. That's why I need a dedicated driver for Anaconda."

"And you want me to take that role."

"Right. Good wagon drivers are hard to find. Works out perfectly."

"I'll handle it."

"You'll charge the guests extra for the ride, of course. I'll cut you a share."

"Thank you."

"Start tonight."

*

"Where to, sir?"

The wagon was different now.

Two horses pulled it, and behind the driver's seat was a passenger cabin instead of a cargo bed.

My first guest was a tall man with black hair.

"Sir?"

"Huuuh..."

He didn't have the wits left to speak clearly.

"Where should I take you?"

"One-forty... lot forty-nine..."

As soon as he muttered it, I glanced down at my map.

A detailed layout of the Entertainment District and its surroundings.

"Got it."

I snapped the reins and got moving.

While driving, I tried to pry a few things out of him.

How often did he come to Anaconda?

What did he like to drink?

Was he close with Madam Anne?

What did he think of her?

I threw out questions as they came to mind, but no answers came back.

He was completely out of it—like he'd drunk until his head was splitting.

In the end, I arrived at his residence without learning a thing.

The place was smaller than I'd expected—a two-story building. You had to go down an alley to reach the front gate. The alley was too narrow for the wagon, so I pulled up at the entrance.

"Sir, we're here."

"Nghh..."

I opened the passenger door myself.

Better to dump him at his doorstep and get out of here fast. I hadn't gotten any information—hell, I couldn't even hold a conversation.

I dragged him out and propped him upright.

"You're home. This is your place, right?"

The man nodded without a word.

As his head dipped, I caught a glimpse of something hidden beneath his jacket collar.

The back of his neck came into view.

"What the..."

Two black marks.

Like something had been driven into the skin.

Two neat holes.

I leaned in for a closer look.

Vampire fangs.

Two puncture wounds.

And a smear of dried blood.

Whoever fed on him knew exactly where to sink their teeth—a prime spot for draining.

"Sir?"

His legs gave out.

He was about to collapse to his knees when I caught him and hauled him upright again.

I dragged him to his front door and dumped him there like a sack of grain.

"There. Get inside."

"Right..."

His hands were slow but practiced. He fumbled for his house key without needing my help.

"Will you be coming back to Anaconda tomorrow?"

"Mmm..."

I watched until he got the key in the lock and turned it. Then I turned away.

140, lot 49.

I memorized the address.

*

I headed straight back to Anaconda. Time to pick up the next guest.

He hadn't been drunk. He was anemic.

Drained of blood.

It had happened on the third floor.

So that was it: the vampires working at Anaconda were feeding on humans up there, drinking their blood. That's why I wasn't allowed up. I'm human. My eyes aren't red.

Plain and simple—I wasn't permitted.

That man had said he'd go back to Anaconda tomorrow, so...

"Doesn't look like it's forced."

If it wasn't forced, then he'd paid the third-floor admission just to give blood to a vampire. A customer who should have been treated to food and drink had instead handed over his own blood.

"Then there must be some compensation..."

There had to be something in return, or he wouldn't have given it.

Over the next stretch, I drove four more guests home.

None of them were in their right minds.

Including the first man, that made five.

I snuck a peek under each collar to check their necks.

All of them had the same bite marks.

My driver duties ended there.

I headed down south to the inn I'd been staying at. As soon as I entered my room, I locked the door.

The raincoat I'd tossed onto the bed caught my eye.

The navy one I'd gotten from the Imperial soldier.

And there it was—the red sword, still inside its half-open case.

Time had come to use them.

Time to ask some questions directly.

*

Before my shift at Anaconda started, I stopped by the wagon parked beside the building.

The passenger cabin.

Under the seat, there was an empty space.

I hid two things there.

The raincoat, folded as flat as possible.

And the red sword, wrapped tightly in the white curtains from the inn.

I crouched down and made sure neither item would be spotted unless someone specifically searched for them.

Then I clocked in and threw myself into the work.

Closing time was approaching.

"See you later, Mago. Take care."

The senior waved as he headed out.

"You leaving first again tonight?"

"Trust me, getting out early is a good thing."

While we were chatting, Madam Anne came down to the first floor.

"Mago, good work today. Actually—scratch that—I need you to work a little longer. Same deal as last night, okay?"

"Sure. Got it."

I stepped outside.

Just like Madam Anne said, my driver duties continued.

I waited for the same man from yesterday.

He'd said he'd come back to Anaconda tonight.

"Back to your place, right?"

Right on cue, he climbed into the wagon.

He was in the same state as the night before.

Heaving deep, ragged sighs.

Mumbling incoherent answers.

Completely unable to control his own body.

140, lot 49.

"Sir, we're here."

We'd arrived at his house.

Once again, I had to drag him out myself.

He shook his head violently, trying to snap out of it—but it didn't do a damn bit of good.

I glanced at his neck.

The marks on the back of it showed no sign of healing. Fresh punctures, tonight as well.

Two days in a row.

He staggered into the alley.

While he fumbled forward, I slipped over to the passenger cabin.

I pulled on the raincoat I'd hidden under the seat.

Grabbed the sword still wrapped in cloth.

Pulled the hood low over my face.

Then I followed him slowly.

"Is it... raining...?"

The man glanced sideways at me and raised his right hand, as if to check for rain.

"No. It's not."

"Then why the raincoat..."

I pulled the hood even lower.

The alley in the dead of night.

I shoved him deeper into the passage until his back nearly hit the wall, then spoke.

"Answer my questions."

"Wha—?"

I unwrapped the cloth from the red sword.

The blade gleamed in the dark.

I pressed the sheathed sword against his throat.

"Why do you go to Anaconda?"

"H-Hold on..."

He waved his hands in protest.

"Answer me."

"Anaconda...?"

"Yeah. Anaconda. The third floor."

"Anaconda—I go there for drinks, obviously..."

"From what I saw, you looked more like the one being poured than the one doing the pouring."

"Uh, w-well... how did you..."

"Feeling like talking now?"

"I—I can't... I can't say..."

I made a motion like I was drawing the sword.

Not that I could actually pull it from the sheath, but he didn't know that.

"Eeek—!"

It worked better than I expected.

He squeezed his eyes shut and scrambled to his feet, trying to bolt past me.

I grabbed his collar and slammed him back onto the ground.

"Ghhk—!"

"I asked you why you're giving blood to a vampire."

I pressed the tip of the scabbard against his chest.

"Hah... hah..."

"Vampires don't drink their own kind's blood. So why are you handing over human blood to one?"

"The blood... it was just payment..."

The Coster family's motto flashed through my mind.

Blood for payment.

Payment from the devil.

"Payment?"

"Yeah... payment."

"Did the staff at Anaconda tell you to pay in blood instead of money?"

"No... no, I wanted to."

"Tell me the whole thing."

I pushed the sword harder against his chest.

"Ghk—okay, okay...!"

"From the beginning."

"To drink blood, you have to give blood..."

"To drink blood?"

"Yeah... if you give your blood to the vampires at Anaconda, they let you drink theirs..."

"Why would you want to drink vampire blood?"

"That's because... to become like them. To drink vampire blood on the fourth floor...!"

The answer caught me off guard.

Blood for blood.

Give blood, take blood.

That was Anaconda's third and fourth floors.

The third floor was for guests seeking deviation.

But shift the meaning slightly, and it became a different kind of deviation: departure from the sun.

People who wanted to escape the daylight.

And the fourth floor? Guests who didn't want to drink alcohol.

If not alcohol, it sure as hell wasn't water.

It had to be blood.

"Drinking vampire blood doesn't make everyone a vampire."

"I know that!"

"Even if a few without rejection symptoms manage it, it's never a perfect transformation."

"I KNOW THAT!"

"Then why do you want to become a vampire?"

"Hnngh..."

He turned his head away.

"Answer me."

"Because of the war..."

"The war?"

"We're all going to die! As humans—weak and pathetic like this—we'll get trampled! Beings like us, inferior humans, are just livestock waiting to be butchered...!"