She did not expect him to refuse outright.
“Wait, uh… Are you sure?”
“What can I do? The mafia refused to offer help regarding the drug incident. That’s just what I’ll have to report to my client.” Zig smiled faintly, making it clear that his “client” was someone of importance.
Katia’s brow twitched as she thought about what he was implying. The only reason this man came to her was because of a job. He held no allegiances or affiliations and basically worked for the highest bidder.
So, who was his client now?
Zig was saying that he would tell them that the mafia refused to cooperate. Maybe he was bluffing, but he had to refer to a certain organization. But which one? An organization that the mafia had to cooperate with when it came to drugs…
And then she knew.
“You’re working for the guild!”
“I appreciate your fast thinking.”
Katia clicked her tongue, realizing she’d been had.
Halian had an unspoken agreement. The guild would handle any violence the military police couldn’t handle, while the mafia managed the underworld. If the mafia weren’t going to cooperate, the guild and all its adventurers wouldn’t turn a blind eye to it. At the end of the day, the mafia was still a criminal organization. They were only allowed to exist because it was better to have a big criminal organization put all the other small fry in order.
She never had a chance to bargain with him to begin with.
“Aah, damn it! You should’ve said that to begin with… Schillaci!”
“R-right here, Miss!”
She blew out smoke in frustration and pointed to the white powder on the table.
“Leda filled you in, right? See where that thing’s from and what it’s for.”
“Got it! But, uh, Miss? Would you mind putting out your cigarette? I need to focus.”
Katia went silent and bitterly crushed her cigarette at Schillaci’s request. The man called Leda opened a window to let the air circulate. Once the smell had mostly dissipated, Schillaci took a small spoon out of his pocket. He put the white powder on it and produced fire from his fingertip to heat the metal.
“Oh.”
He stopped and gave Katia an awkward look.
“What? Get on with it,” Katia barked.
“Sorry, Miss, but you kinda stink… Could you go away for a sec?”
“Fine.”
Sometimes, words can cut deeper than the sharpest sword.
With due respect to Katia, her room wasn’t what you would call dirty, despite being messy. She also understood that Schillaci was talking about the smell of tobacco, which tended to be far smellier to people who didn’t smoke.
Even so, a girl her age getting told by a stinky middle-aged man that she stank was a mental blow. She went to a corner of the room without so much a shift in her expression and sat down. She pulled her legs up to her chest as if putting herself in a fetal position would protect her.
“That was ruthless.”
Zig cast a pitying gaze toward Katia while Leda’s veins popped in anger.
“Maybe I should knock out some of his teeth.”
As rude as the mafia were, it was a little bit much.
“Eh? Anyway, I’m starting now.”
Schillaci began his appraisal, oblivious to how much his words affected Katia. Though, Schillaci’s insensitivity wasn’t a byproduct of his beloved drugs. It was just how he was as a person.
White smoke began forming out of the mound of white powder, and Schillaci immediately inhaled it.
“Aaaah…”
He couldn’t help but moan in pleasure.
He exhaled, albeit with some hesitation. His pupils dilated and his pale skin gained a slight flush. His breathing grew ragged with excitement.
Meanwhile, Zig and Leda grew disgusted by his ecstatic reaction. Watching a man get high didn’t incite any form of pleasure. Watching a monstrosity in the wild was far more entertaining.
A few minutes passed. Schillaci reported his findings after coming down from that high.
“It’s a drug that enhances your senses. I think it’s some kind of magic jute, a type of jute loaded with mana.”
Even Zig knew that magic jute was famous and figured that it was native to this continent.
Leda frowned as they heard what the drug was made of. Whatever it was used for, it didn’t seem to be good.
“Magic jute… That’s powerful stuff. One wrong move and you’re an addict for life.”
“That strong?”
“The addictive properties by itself aren’t that powerful. But it has practical uses.”
Practical uses—that meant it could vastly enhance one’s senses.
“Apparently, you can count every raindrop in a thunderstorm when you’re on this thing. The drug doesn’t alter your mental state much, so it’s more suited to precision work than combat. A lot of folks use it for engraving, I hear. Apparently, it also increases your confidence, so you’ll be willing to take more risks.”
“Engraving… Right.”
That explained why the drug was found inside the magic item.
The craftsman who made the bracelet relied on magic jute to do his engraving work. Gantt’s assessment of them being lower than third rate was correct.
“Is magic jute circulated here?”
“Don’t be stupid. This thing’s practically a drug. In our fair town, we have an agreement to ban those things. No, we only allow white powder that makes you happy for our lovely children!”
“I see. So, where’d this thing come from?”
Zig didn’t care about the legalities of the substance. He was interested in where practical drugs were allowed, but what he cared about more was the drug’s origin.
Schillaci answered him proudly. “There’s only one place you can get this kind of purity and quality.”
Leda frowned, like he just bit into a bitter bug.
“Striggo.”