"Well, howdy there. Pleasure's mine, I reckon. I heard there's some cash in the mix, and that's what brought me 'round these parts."
Abruptly, a man appeared before them, and with a grandiose flourish, he greeted them with a theatrical bow, as though he were an actor performing on stage.
His gestures were both excessively formal and ostentatious, leaving Oliver uncertain about how to respond. Fortunately, Forrest took the lead and stepped forward.
"Dave, sorry to interrupt, but who is Mr. Smith?"
"Ah… he's the one who made the glutton bag I use."
"You mean the glutton bag the size of a person?"
"Yes, and he's his master. I sent a letter saying I wanted to meet him, and he seems to have come to see me."
Oliver gestured towards Smith's master, who once again greeted them with an exaggerated bow, as if he were a flamboyant actor on stage. His exuberant personality was impossible to miss.
As Forrest began to grasp the situation, he paused to collect his thoughts before adjusting his attire and resuming his role as mediator. With a polite greeting, he addressed Smith's master, "Hello? Master of Mr. Smith… I am Forrest, a broker working in District T. Nice to meet you."
"Well howdy, partner! It's sure a pleasure to meet ya too. I reckon I know who you are – you're Forrest, the fella who made a heap of cash overnight and became a superstar over in Landa, ain't ya? It's downright impressive and downright enviable how ya hit the jackpot like that. But let me tell ya, a man's life is like a fine wine – it gets better with age. But be warned, folks have a habit of wanting what ain't theirs, especially when it's aged and refined like a fine wine."
Smith's master blended elements of both courtesy and rudeness in his lengthy discourse, punctuating his words with flamboyant gestures that resembled those of a skilled actor on stage.
His eloquence and grandiose gestures were enough to lure in those who let their guard down and become entranced by his theatrics.
However, Forrest was not so easily swayed by his manipulative tactics, and Oliver… was just Oliver.
"Thank you for praising and worrying about me on our first meeting… If it's alright with you, may I ask your name? Calling you the master of so-and-so is too long."
"My apologies for not introducin' myself earlier. The name's Ewan Bremner, and I'm a skilled craftsman who can create all sorts of miraculous items. I'm also a master negotiator, able to trade a mere bag o' beans for a fine ol' cow. And if that ain't enough, I'm also quite the debtor and a wanderer too! I've traveled far and wide, from the lands across the sea, to the mystical Eastern lands where dragons soar high, and even to some crazy world where mice pack heat and the sky kingdom where giants make their home."
Forrest exhibited his incredulity towards Ewan's grandiose and patently untrue assertion. Similarly, Oliver had a comparable reaction.
However, Oliver's reasoning differed. Although several falsehoods were spoken, the majority of Ewan's words held a kernel of truth.
"I reckon I forgot to mention that I'm also a lover of many fine ladies, a preacher of love, and an incredibly popular dandy, to boot!"
"Ah, that's a lie."
Without thinking, Oliver blurted out, causing the ambiance to freeze, and Ewan's countenance to crumble momentarily.
"Slap me sideways and call me a buckaroo! I go outta my way to lend a hand, and you hit me right in the solar plexus. They say Landa is a wicked place, just like Sodom and Gomorrah, and now I reckon that's true as can be."
Oliver belatedly comprehended his error and apologized. He then attempted to sort out his jumbled thoughts.
Numerous inquiries piqued his curiosity and begged to be asked. However, before anything else, he had to express his appreciation.
"I apologize once again, and thank you for your help. I owe a great debt to Ewan."
"Ho-ho… Looks like ya ain't completely lacking in manners after all. And y'know what? Even Sodom had themselves a righteous man named Lot, so I reckon there's gotta be at least one polite person in this sin-soaked city too."
As Oliver listened quietly, he recalled the biblical story and asked Forrest,
"If it was the Lot from Sodom, it must be the one whose two daughters…"
"…That's not an important issue. Don't dwell on the details."
At Forrest's recommendation, Oliver refrained from speaking, allowing Ewan to ramble on.
Once he began to speak, his tongue seemed to move nonstop, causing their ears to spin, and his gestures were mesmerizing. It was complete mayhem.
However, this did not persist for long.
After recovering his calm and waiting patiently, Ewan's boisterous storytelling gradually waned, and his abrupt gestures ceased.
Forrest seized the opportunity and spoke cordially.
"Mr. Ewan, I also want to thank you for your help."
"But it seems like you got some questions brewin' in that noggin of yours. It ain't no surprise, folks in this city tend to doubt even their own kin. But fret not, partner. If ya got any questions, don't be shy to ask 'em. I'm all ears."
Ewan was cheerful but assertive. However, Forrest wasn't fazed either.
"From the conversation, it seems you've just arrived in Landa from another place. How did you find us?"
Forrest voiced a discreet skepticism.
In reality, it wasn't unexpected.
Ewan's convenient appearance and his aid subsequent to their signing of a contract with Crime Firm and the assault from the Anti-Development committee seemed too perfect.
As a broker, Forrest couldn't resist questioning.
Upon being questioned by Forrest, Ewan exhibited feelings of delight and contentment.
"Um… I can see why you'd ask a question like that. But alright, I reckon I'll answer it for ya. Although, there's a mighty important condition that comes with my answer."
"What is it?"
"If my answer tickles your fancy, then I reckon it's only fair that you take me to a place with some mighty fine alcohol and beautiful ladies. Truth be told, I ain't too fond of loitering 'round here with a bunch of dour men on this dreary road."
Forrest looked at Oliver, Ewan, Al, and the surrounding scenery before nodding his head.
"… I agree. Then, I will guide you to a place where Landa's gentlemen can enjoy good conversation."
Clap-! Clap-!
Ewan clapped his hands energetically, shining with genuine joy.
"That's downright delightful."
⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩ ⏩
A little while later, three cars pulled up on the street where the Anti-Development committee had launched their assault.
All of the cars were summoned by agencies that collaborated with the brokers. One was a limousine, another was a standard taxi, and the last was a colossal truck.
Forrest bestowed substantial gratuities to each of the drivers and courteously explained the duties ahead.
Initially, he had the regular taxi transport Al, who had undergone a considerable ordeal that day, to his accommodation. The truck driver, with the help of auxiliary machinery, retrieved Forrest's impaired vintage car.
"I didn't expect my baby to end up like this. So sad… Now, shall we get in?"
Forrest asked as he opened the rear seat of the limousine.
Ewan shrugged and climbed into the car, wearing a wide grin. Oliver followed suit, and then Forrest.
The vehicle's interior was the most opulent that Oliver had ever seen, and to his amazement, there were bottles of liquor and glasses arranged on a small table.
What was even more astonishing was that Ewan, as if he had been in such a car numerous times, effortlessly consumed alcohol and proceeded to grab a cigar from a nearby box, lighting it with finesse. He exhaled smoke and said,
"Now ain't that a mighty fine cigar you got there! They say the devil's in the details, and I reckon the quality of a place can be judged by 'em too. Looks like you're dealing with a darn good establishment here, partner."
"Thank you for the compliment."
"Say, partner, if you don't mind me asking, where exactly are we headed?"
"We're going to Area 66 in District O."
"That's one of Landa's true pleasures, if ya ask me. Used to frequent that part of town quite often, I did. Ain't it now called the Street of Joy or somethin' like that?"
"You know it well."
"I reckon I know a thing or two 'bout a thing or two. And speaking of which, you reckon there's any good places 'round these parts these days?"
"Yes, there's this spot I know, run by a friend of mine. It's pretty cool. Pricey, but also great for having a good chat."
It appeared that Forrest was talking about the Angels House, but Oliver chose to hold off on inquiring about it and instead directed his attention to Ewan, posing a more pressing question.
"Mr. Ewan, if you don't mind, could you show it to me?"
"What…? Oh!"
Ewan rummaged through his cloak as if he had just remembered.
"Not this… not this either… definitely not this one."
Rummaging around, Ewan took out various bizarre items such as a stuffed nose, a dense doll, and a pink potion, and eventually exclaimed.
"Ah, found it."
What lay before them was a withered and contorted hand, resembling a piece of dried jerky. Its color was pallid, and the fingers were so desiccated and brittle that one might fear breaking them with a careless touch.
Around the wrist dangled a collection of ominous talismans, while the palm of the hand was adorned with intricate circles of black magic, etched into the flesh with a knife. However, the most startling aspect of the hand was the human eyeball that was embedded into the back of it.
"Ah, here it is. The compass."
The item that Ewan produced was a black magic compass, according to his description. He claimed that the compass could point towards any person, item, or location that its owner desired, and it was with the aid of this remarkable tool that Oliver had been located.
Though the compass sounded impressive in theory, its actual usefulness was debatable, and it hardly seemed like a miraculous device.
"Well, even after givin' it another look, I still reckon that's a mighty strange item. Its function is downright impressive, but it's as good as useless if the target's too far off. And even when it does work, it doesn't always work all that well – only when it's in the mood, I reckon. But then again, there are times like this when it works so darn well that it's just downright impossible to toss away."
Ewan had asserted that black magic items were akin to living beings, possessing their own will and consciousness that grew stronger as their functions became more sophisticated.
Oliver concurred with this assessment, as evidenced by the behavior of the Glutton bag. As the bag increased in size and performance, so too did its self-awareness and resistance. To the point of killing and devouring its owner.
‘I don't know much about it, though.'
"But, it's a bit surprising."
Ewan looked straight at Oliver and said. It was so out of the blue that Oliver asked,
"What is surprising, Mr. Ewan?"
"Well now, that's mighty peculiar. Smith painted a different picture of ya. Said you were a mighty curious fella, always askin' questions and such. But here ya are, not even curious about how I got to know the Anti-Development committee or why I took back that corpse ya worked so darn hard to catch. Ain't that somethin'? I heard you work with corpse dolls, so I reckon that ain't no ordinary corpse to you, is it?"
He was right. For Oliver right now, corpses were quite important spoils. The stronger and rarer the corpse, the better.
"Yes, you're right."
"But tell me, partner, why ain't ya askin'? Ya scared of me 'cause I'm too dang strong?"
"No."
"Well, damn! Ya think I'm a pushover? Do ya even know who I am?"
"No, no. I think you, Mr. Ewan is not an easy opponent to deal with and is a remarkable person. After all, you taught Mr. Smith… I'm just waiting patiently because I have many questions. Actually, I have a lot of questions for you, Mr. Ewan. I initially just wanted to ask about the recently acquired black magic item, but now I have even more questions."
Oliver's previous intention had been to inquire about the black magic item he had acquired from one of Cook's subordinates, but now he found himself with an even greater number of questions for Ewan.
He wished to learn more about the Anti-Development Committee, including how Ewan had come to know of them. He also sought clarification on the cryptic words that Puppet had uttered – "The clock has started ticking" – and suspected that Ewan might have insight on the matter.
"Ain't nothin' wrong with havin' a whole bunch of questions. But I reckon getting me to spill the beans is a pretty pricey affair – ya sure ya can afford it? And let me tell ya straight up, the reason I came 'round these parts is 'cause there's a sucker to rip off."
The individual whom Ewan had referred to as a "sucker" was none other than Oliver himself. However, he was not bothered by the derogatory label in the slightest.
Ultimately, Oliver was less concerned with the opinions of others and more focused on quenching his curiosity.
As Oliver was about to answer, Forest interrupted.
"No need to stress too much, we'll do our best to make arrangements for you. By the way, we've just reached the destination."
Forrest gestured towards the car window, which revealed a reflection of a rectangular, antiquated building with a distinctive red roof.
It was unmistakably the Angels House.
TRIVIA:
1. The story of Sodom and Gomorrah in the Bible tells of two cities that were known for their wickedness and sinfulness. God sent two angels to investigate, and they were greeted by Lot, who offered them hospitality. The men of Sodom demanded that Lot turn over the angels so they could have s*x with them, but the angels struck them with blindness. The angels then urged Lot and his family to flee the city before it was destroyed by God's judgment.
2. According to the biblical account in Genesis 19, after Lot and his family had fled Sodom and Gomorrah, they took refuge in a cave in the mountains. Lot's two daughters, who were unmarried and living with him, became concerned that they would never find husbands and have children. In their desperation, they came up with a plan to get their father drunk and have s*x with him in order to become pregnant. They succeeded in getting Lot drunk on two consecutive nights and had s*x with him. As a result of these incestuous relationships, both daughters became pregnant. The story of Lot and his daughters is often seen as a cautionary tale about the dangers of drunkenness and the consequences of moral decay. It is also sometimes interpreted as a reflection of the cultural norms and practices of the time in which the story was written.
(To be Continued)
OR
$5/month6 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$15/month12 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$30/month19 chap ahead + 5 chap/week$45/monthAll advance chap + 6 chap/week
