"Since it's roughly organized now, I'll be going. The pulsating will stop within three days. If it still doesn't calm down after that, use this."
Leonardo handed over an amulet he had made by melting the Siculus mineral at high temperature and then solidifying it. It was shaped like a ring with a sun-shaped part with protruding spikes placed on top.
At a glance, it looked like an ordinary ring, but looking closely at the center, a magic circle was engraved inside the melted mineral. Though it was blurry and difficult to make out the content, since he said to use it if the pulsation didn't stop, it must be magic related to sealing. The owner held the amulet up to the store light, examining it with curiosity.
Siculus was an ambiguous mineral with soft hardness and a dull color, making it unusable even as an imitation jewel or grinding material. So when the customer had chosen Siculus over the flashy weapons, he had inwardly rejoiced. But he never expected it could be utilized like this.
Since the mineral itself was soft, it was easy to reprocess using heat, and its dull light characteristic seemed suitable for situations where magic needed to be hidden. The owner, who had been trying the ring on his finger, spoke to Leonardo who was gathering the gold bracelet:
"You're quite skillful. But I don't have any more money to give you now?"
"It's a service. Oh, and for keeping your mouth shut too."
This guy, really. The owner let out a hollow laugh. He knew today's youngsters were ill-mannered, but this one took the cake among all he had seen.
Nevertheless, the owner responded heartily as if amused:
"Drop by from time to time. I treat my regular customers well. If you request items that are hard to find, I occasionally procure them for you. Sometimes I even throw in extras when you buy something expensive."
"So just selling makes me a regular customer?"
"That makes you a seller."
"I'll drop by as a seller occasionally."
The red lips curved playfully. Just as Leonardo, having finished packing his things, turned around without lingering, the owner muttered candidly while looking at his back:
"If what's hanging around your neck becomes suffocating, come by. I'll at least reduce some of the energy for you."
At that moment, Leonardo's steps came to an abrupt halt. Having unconsciously held his breath, he slowly turned his head. The golden eyes contained both puzzlement and a vigilant gaze.
"Pardon?"
The owner stopped speaking around then. It was because he instinctively detected the eeriness that suddenly emanated.
Leonardo stood there, staring at the other person. As the silence lingering in the air made them both uncomfortable, he shifted his gaze downward. He also fumbled around his neck area with his hand. Though it was clearly covered with a handkerchief, it was surprising how he had noticed it.
"I told you, didn't I? I'm exceptionally good at handling cursed items. When in the same space, it's impossible not to know."
The owner said this while picking up utensils and scattered newspapers, turning his eyes away. Though he was tidying up the surroundings, his consciousness was directed toward the customer who had stopped in his tracks.
Only the sound of the old cart carrying the chest circulated inside the supply shop. At that moment, Leonardo, who had been looking down, once again gazed at the owner steadily. Soon, he ran urgently to the front of the counter, making thumping footsteps. After practically tearing off his handkerchief, he thrust his head toward the other person and asked with an excited demeanor:
"Can you remove this?"
"Good heavens!"
The owner, who had been moving the chest, was pulled toward the customer along with his grabbed collar. The first thing he felt from the customer's flushed face and trembling breath was an indescribable chill.
Given the atmosphere where saying the wrong thing could lead to big trouble, the owner couldn't make any more groaning sounds. Instead, he stared at the desperate golden eyes waiting for an answer from his mouth.
Unfortunately, what he could say wouldn't be very welcome news to him. The owner, who smoothed his chest, added in a tone suggesting he regretted bringing it up:
"How could I remove something even a mage couldn't? That's a curse with deep thoughts. I don't know how you ended up with such a thing... but it's not something that can be easily removed."
The fiery spirit subsided instantly. The eyes that had been chasing hope silently sighed. His moving lips, as if he had expected this, revealed a great disappointment.
"Moreover, it's not just one person involved."
The golden eyes, which had been about to look at the floor, shot up again.
"How do you know that?"
"I can feel it. Curses always carry thoughts, and this one isn't from just one person."
"Do you know what kind of curse it is?"
"I think it would be big trouble if I knew, right? Isn't that why you can't talk about it either?"
The eyelids soaked in surprise opened slightly. Though he didn't nod, it was a sign of affirmation.
Leonardo didn't continue speaking and closed his mouth. The black line crossing his neck undulated along with his Adam's apple. He released the owner's clothing he had been tightly gripping, and instead covered the symbol of bondage again with the handkerchief he had untied.
The owner, who had barely escaped from his grasp, sighed and clicked his tongue while dusting off his collar. He picked up an ash tree staff placed beside him and patted Leonardo's shoulders as well.
"How pitiful, how pitiful. With so many lives already attached, yet your own life is in another's hands."
"...How do you reduce the energy?"
"I'm doing it right now. You need to periodically reduce the thoughts. Otherwise, you'll be influenced even when the owner of the thoughts isn't nearby."
"...."
"Drop by when you get a chance. I'll introduce you to someone as versed in curses as I am. Ah, of course, you'll have to go to the mountains to find him directly. He's been detached from the secular world for a long time."
Leonardo didn't say anything until the staff brushed his arms and head and was withdrawn. His heart had raced rapidly and then settled, making him feel more deflated. But despite not saying anything, few had recognized this as a curse. Though it was disappointing for now, he became curious about the person the owner was introducing.
"Tell me now. Where is he?"
"Even I don't know where he is right now, he's so elusive. I have to find out."
The golden eyebrows wrinkled as if incredulous. Soon, he sighed while rolling his eyes upward, and then took out a black piece of paper from his inner pocket. After engraving a spell on it with mana, he handed it to the owner.
"When you find out, burn this. A signal will come to me."
"Oh, a renunciation card. I'll keep it safe."
"...You don't have anything else to say, right? I'm really leaving now."
"Hmm, just listen to one piece of advice before you go."
"Advice?"
"Thought entities feed on other thoughts to grow. It's not something I should say to a customer who came to sell me things, but don't take too many lives. Even now, a lot of grudges are attached to you."
"...."
"Things like dragons are okay occasionally, but if possible, avoid those that have lived for a long time, gained awareness, and become close to spiritual beings. The grudges of beings that transcend time are not something a mere human can handle. Such things slowly invade the body and eventually gnaw at the mind. The same goes for ghostly grudges."
In the owner's vision, Leonardo appeared as a figure with dark shadows clinging and clamoring amidst brilliant golden light. To him, who hadn't awakened the third eye, they were just faint forms visible only with concentration, but to the suppressed clerics of this land, he would be a subject for purification that should be seized and doused with holy water immediately.
Normally, to drag around that level of thoughts and grudges, one would have to kill as many lives as any soldier he knew. However, judging by his search for illegal trades, he seemed far from a soldier who followed strict disciplines.
"I'm saying this because you remind me of a son. If you immerse yourself in clear water imbued with purifying energy, some thoughts will fall off. Stop getting blood on yourself."
The owner added in a melancholic tone. Leonardo, who had been staring at him expressionlessly, smiled with a somewhat bitter face.
"Living like this, that's hard to do. I have a lot of work."
"...Hmm, where are you going now? Off to hunt another dragon?"
"How could I go right after hearing such a thing? Not dragons, I'm going to find someone. I've been looking for months."
"For months?"
Leonardo rummaged through his inner pocket once more. This time, what he pulled out was a white paper. The paper was thrust in front of the shop owner.
"Westforce... what's this?"
"First, do you know where this is?"
Leonardo's fingertip pointed to '41 Westforce Romance.' Westforce is the name of the larger area encompassing this Riverside Town. This memo was a transcription of part of a note left by Alec Siles, the mad scholar he met on the peninsula who was in charge of package 2, along with the amplifier.
Find the turtle that took the train at 41 Westforce Romance
The original note contained a strange address along with a promise to talk in detail when they got there. It had been almost 3 months since he had been chasing that promise.
The problem was that there was no place called Romance 41 in this area. When he first learned this fact, his head felt dazed as if he had been hit on the back of the head. It made him think that this mad scholar had simply spouted nonsense to hide his whereabouts and break his contract with him.
Even if that were the case, he couldn't stop looking for the scholar. If that was a real address, he needed to go there and beat him with his fist for making him train like a mutt, and if it was a trick to shake him off, he needed to cut off his tongue and fingers to prevent any more tricks. Besides, there were many things to silence and to ask about.
Going around and around, covering all 41 addresses within Westforce, he had finally reached 41 Aldenon Street here, while also selling his goods.
This was the last 41 address Leonardo hadn't visited before. However, Alec Siles's whereabouts were still unknown, and now there was nowhere to retreat. The turtle that took the train seemed like some kind of metaphor, but for now, it was impossible to know whether it was a person or an object. So with the hope that a local might know something, he was sharing his destination despite the risk.
The golden eyes looked at the owner's face with a subtly expectant gaze.
The owner muttered to himself while narrowing his bleary eyes. Then, glancing at Leonardo, he answered plainly:
"I don't know?"
"...."
'That's not helpful.'
Leonardo frowned but didn't add anything. As if he hadn't expected anything in the first place, he picked up the paper and was about to put it back in his inner pocket.
"Wait, wait. I said I don't know. I didn't say I don't have any guesses."
"...? You should have said that first."
The owner, who had urgently grabbed his wrist, looked at the content of the memo again.
"The handwriting is so bad it's hard to read."
"...What does that have to do with the handwriting? More importantly, what's your guess?"
"Hmm, a turtle that took the train..."
It was just then, as the two men were putting their heads together across the counter, that Leonardo felt a presence loitering outside the store, not paying attention to him.
Since there had been many people passing by the street, he didn't care much at first. But this presence didn't just pass through the alley; it stopped abruptly in front of the store.
Leonardo, who had instinctively raised his head, looked toward the door.
"If you walk about 15 minutes from here, you'll reach the train station..."
Sensing something odd, he had just pulled down his cap and pulled up his face mask back up to below his eyes. Someone pushed the store door forcefully as if it would break. With a bang, the bell attached to the door shook roughly, and the resonance of quite heavy shoe soles stepping on the wooden floor was transmitted.
The owner, equally startled, rolled his eyes and looked in the same direction.
The natural light coming from outside penetrated the interior, which had been dark even with the lights on. In between, a pair of military boots that appeared stepped thudding into the store.
"Is this a smuggling scene?"
The collar of the pitch-black uniform formed a fearfully neat angle. Leonardo flinched and lowered the brim of his cap.
They belonged to the Imperial Army.