Alice didn't deeply ponder the meaning of those words. Of course, there wasn't much need to; some answers were already obvious, just that the specific details still needed to be investigated.
Besides, my own matters are still a complete mess—what does it matter to me how Adam is doing... Alice irresponsibly muttered this in her heart, but found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, falling into thought.
"Treating me as a part of his life…" Alice reached out to touch the mirror surface, aligning the fingertips of each finger with her reflection in the mirror, then slowly pressed down her palm. "Why do I feel like he's the one clinging on instead?"
The her inside the mirror and the her outside the mirror had equally confused eyes, without suddenly showing a mysterious smile like Song Shu did.
Alice felt inexplicably a little disappointed. She withdrew her hand, pulled out the previously put-away 'The Taste of the Iron-Blooded Knight is Quite Nice', and headed out toward the 'Brave One's Bar'.
As soon as she walked out the door, she attracted quite a few passersby's gazes. Alice hesitated for a few seconds before realizing it was because of her clothes.
"School uniforms have turned into bizarre costumes here, huh…" Alice muttered as she looked around for a carriage.
Although teleporting wouldn't be impossible, after all, humans should look like humans... Eh? Why does that sound like "students should look like students"?
Alice shook her head, tossing that terrifying thought from her mind, and got into the carriage.
...
"Where's 'Old Man'?" Inside the Brave One's Bar, Alice ignored the stares at her "bizarre costume" and walked straight to the bar.
The bartender was still the same familiar one. He looked Alice up and down, his gaze full of hesitation.
Alice thought for a bit, waved her hand twice in front of his face, and asked, "Did you hear me?"
"...Is this some kind of trendy outfit from somewhere?" the bartender finally couldn't hold back and asked.
"Oh, yes," Alice replied earnestly, "This is the prison uniform from my hometown. A lot of people like to wear it."
"Huh?" The bartender's eyes turned blank.
"Especially minors tend to wear this," Alice added.
"Huh?" The bartender's expression gradually turned into existential doubt.
"So, where's 'Old Man'?" Alice gave the bartender a sympathetic glance, deciding to let him off for now and stop fooling him.
The bartender didn't immediately react to the sudden topic switch. He was dazed for a moment before answering, "In—in Room One of the card parlor."
Alice blinked at the bartender twice.
The bartender looked back at her in confusion. A few seconds later, Alice was the first to speak: "Where's Room One of the card parlor?"
The bartender instinctively raised a hand and pointed to a room. Alice walked straight over without looking back and knocked on the door twice.
"Come in." She heard a voice that could barely be called hoarse.
Alice pushed the door open and walked in. Ian, wearing a long trench coat and a fake beard, was sitting at a table fiddling with a deck of cards. The look in his eyes when he saw Alice was filled with surprise.
Why is he surprised? He's not afraid of me... Oh, wait—he's never seen what I really look like!
Alice suddenly realized, then locked the door behind her and used her spirituality to seal the room.
Although he couldn't sense any fluctuation of spirituality, Alice's action of locking the door still put Ian on alert. He clenched the playing cards in his hand and stood up, warily watching Alice.
"Why aren't you playing cards in the billiards room anymore?" Alice tried to hint at her identity with a single line. "Don't you feel like that feeling was really special?"
Alice walked toward Ian as she spoke, and just as she finished speaking, she was already standing at the table, watching Ian fall back into his seat.
"Did you tell anyone my secret?" Alice blinked and dragged over a chair to sit down without the slightest sense of formality, then asked.
Ian shook his head quickly and firmly.
Shaking that hard would probably strain your neck… Alice rubbed her chin, pulled out those five pages of 'The Taste of the Iron-Blooded Knight is Quite Nice', and smiled as she asked:
"You know what to do, right?"
Ian took the journal and nodded hard twice. Then—crack—a sound rang out. He really strained his neck.
"Does it hurt?" Alice asked gently.
In that moment, Ian thought of his former superior, the one named Kaspas who smothered him with a blanket.
With such a precedent, and the impression Alice had left on him, Ian didn't even consider the possibility that it was just an accident. His experience growing up from the bottom made him see it as a direct threat.
This understanding, on the contrary, made Ian more calm. He realized that Alice hadn't killed him outright, but only remained at the level of a threat.
This meant Alice had a purpose she wanted to achieve through him—and that also meant he still had a chance to live.
Ian slowly raised half his face, exposing his pale upper face to Alice, and then asked:
"Y-You want me to do what?"
His voice held pain, completely unhidden.
Alice tilted her head and suddenly realized that Ian had misunderstood her intentions.
Actually, I didn't plan to threaten him at all… Alice blinked, then simply decided to go along with Ian's misunderstanding and acted it out:
"I'm so worried you might spill my secret someday... Hmm, what do you think I should do?"
Ian froze for a few seconds before replying, "I know someone like you must have methods to make people keep secrets..."
"But why should I go that far?" Alice tilted her head. "Dead people are better at keeping secrets anyway, and they don't cost anything—don't you think?"
I need to convince her… Ian realized this, forced himself to stay calm, and carefully formed his words:
"I can help you sell Roselle's notes.
"Even if I die, there will still be new merchants here. If you want to keep selling Roselle's notes, you'll have to deal with new merchants again.
"Even if you sell Roselle's notes through other channels, you'll still have to interact with merchants, and they could still leak your secret…"
At that, Alice couldn't help but interrupt Ian's speech:
"But killing people doesn't take effort…
"If I'm already going to the trouble of preventing you from leaking secrets, then... wouldn't killing everyone be a one-and-done solution?"
Ian's face turned frighteningly pale. Sweat beaded across his forehead in a dense layer, but he still tried to persuade her:
"T-That would… increase your risk of exposure even more..."
"Are you threatening me?" Alice tilted her head.
Ian suddenly felt a strong sense of helplessness. His hand let go weakly, and the deck of playing cards—already destroyed beyond recognition by his grip—scattered across the table.
Alice blinked twice, then suddenly smiled:
"Wanna gamble?
"If you win, I'll let you go—how about it?"