I watched from the edge of the porch as the grand carriage began to blend into the busy morning traffic, its polished frame growing smaller in the distance. Just before it rounded the corner of the residential block, a small hand popped out of the velvet-curtained window. Evelyn was waving frantically back at me, her face beaming with pure excitement.
My expression softened. I lifted my right hand and gave her a firm, reassuring wave back until the carriage completely vanished from sight.
Now that she was safely on her way to the Bureau for her interview, it was time for me to handle the household chores. I turned back inside House 132 and immediately focused on the laundry situation. Walking back up to my master bedroom, I gathered up all of my unwashed clothes… including the sticky, deflated ruins of the bio-slime bodysuit from last night… and tossed them into a heavy wicker basket.
As I prepared to head out into the bustling city streets, I became hyper-vigilant. I reached for my heavy canvas cloak and wrapped it tightly around my frame, ensuring that my massive, bat-like blood wings and my missing left arm were completely swallowed by the shadows of the fabric. The city was on high alert, and the Caria Times had just confirmed that the bounty on my alter-ego, the Crimson Phantom bounty, was active and they wanted my head this time, and had jumped to a staggering 15 gold coins. One loose feather or an accidental slip of my cloak, and the entire district would turn into a warzone.
I securely strapped the Death Chant Shotgun across my back beneath the cloak, slung the strap of my leather purse over my right shoulder, and picked up the heavy laundry basket. Locking the front door behind me, I stepped out into the morning air and made my way toward the heavily fortified gates of the 3rd District.
Standing guard at the iron-reinforced archway was the district gatekeeper, Renny, a familiar face who had overseen this checkpoint for months. He leaned on his halberd, his eyes scanning the crowd before locking onto my cloaked figure.
"Toll and status card," Renny stated automatically, extending a leather-gloved hand.
Without a word, I reached into my purse with my right hand, pulled out my official hunter's status card, and placed a single shining silver coin into his palm.
Renny inspected the card, stamped his logbook, and handed it back to me. But as I took it, a knowing smirk crossed his face.
"Hey, Eirene. I saw that official carriage roll through here just a little while ago. Word around the guardhouse is that your little sister just registered at the Association."
He leaned in a bit, shaking his head in mild disbelief.
"The status card weren't kidding… she looks almost exactly like you. Same frame, same features. Except she's got both of her eyes completely intact and smooth, pale skin. Unlike you, who looks like you've been dragged through a brutal war and came back completely scarred and tanned from the frontline elements. It's crazy how genetics work, huh?"
I gave him a slow, silent nod from beneath the deep shadow of my hood, offering no explanation.
"Anyways, safe travels out there, don't let any of those low-life thugs in the lower sectors give you any trouble today." Renny said, stepping aside and gesturing for the heavy iron gates to open.
I walked past him into the bustling commercial district, the weight of the laundry basket in my hand and the secrets of the Winged Demon buried deep beneath my cloak.
I navigated through the bustling thoroughfares, passing out of the 3rd District and walking all the way down to the 6th District… the heart of Caria's merchant territory. This vibrant sector housed both my destination for the chores and The Weaver's Edge, the specialized tailor shop where Vladimir worked and where I planned to purchase my new fire-resistant trench coat later.
First, I pulled open the heavy wooden door of the laundry establishment. The interior immediately hit me with a wave of thick steam, floral soaps, and the distinct, rhythmic sound of wooden boards scrubbing against fabric. It was a stark, grounded reminder of how different this fantasy world was compared to the convenient, automated washing machines of my past life on Earth.
I stepped up to the counter and slid my heavy wicker basket forward, handing the lady at the register a small, pre-written note that simply read:
Wash it.
The registrar looked up from her ledger, her eyes shifting from the note to my cloaked figure, specifically tracking my single jade-green eye and the leather eyepatch. Her face lit up with immediate awe.
"Wait... you're Eirene! The elite bounty hunter! The one who single-handedly cleared the Caria Mines and saved our economy! And you're the older sister of that newly appointed Luminous Knight prodigy, Evelyn Rynd, aren't you?"
Before I could even give a silent nod, she vigorously shook her head with a warm, incredibly grateful smile.
"Because of your heroic actions, our families can finally afford to eat again without the crippling deflation. We cannot possibly charge you for this. We're offering to do your laundry completely free of charge!"
"Thank you," I gestured with a respectful nod of my head.
However, the moment the lady reached forward and lifted the lid of the wicker basket, her helpful expression instantly morphed into one of pure panic. Resting right on top of my old dresses were the ripped, sticky ruins of the bio-slime bodysuit from last night. Because it was still highly volatile, tiny, residual globs of glowing blue-green slime were actively scattering and pulsing across the fabric of my other garments, trying to dissolve the threads.
"Goddess preserve us! Ma'am... There are active slimes nesting in this strange bodysuit! It's eating into your clothes! Mind if I take it out and dispose of it safely before we wash the rest?"
A cold jolt of adrenaline shot through me beneath my Victorian maid dress. If I told her the truth… that the slime bodysuit belonged to my sister, or that Evelyn herself was the slime that spawned it… Evelyn's future as a Luminous Knight would be utterly shattered before her interview even concluded. But I quickly calmed my racing thoughts. Evelyn had completely moved on from her life as a monster, she had explicitly told me this morning that she wanted real human clothes, not a reminder of the dark caves. The bodysuit was entirely useless to us now.
I quickly took the pen from the counter, flipped my note over, and scribbled a firm response:
"Yes. Throw the bodysuit in the furnace completely. Burn it."
The lady read the note and let out a massive sigh of relief.
"Understood. We'll burn the contaminated suit immediately and put the rest of your dresses through a deep, thorough magical cleansing process to remove the residue. Mind if you wait an hour for the cycle to finish, Miss Eirene?"
I gave her a firm nod of approval, accepting the timeline. Leaving the basket in her capable hands, I turned and stepped back out into the merchant street. I had exactly one hour to kill, which was the perfect amount of time to head down the block to The Weaver's Edge, visit Vladimir, and finally pick up my new combat gear.