Chapter 106: Saint Clarence
By the time the bubble boat reached the amusement district, Axel's mood had sunk to the bottom.
He sat there with his wooden sword across his knees, looking outward without really looking at anything at all. Ever since Hawkins had declared, in that maddeningly flat tone of his, that the cookies were "bad," Axel's thoughts had been snagged on it like cloth on a nail.
He knew Hawkins never said things like that for no reason.
He also knew the bastard had developed an especially irritating habit lately—speaking just enough to make people uneasy, then refusing to explain the part that actually mattered.
So Axel had spent the entire ride turning it over in his head.
What was wrong with the cookies?
Were they poisoned? No. He had eaten several already.
Were they bait? A sign? A trigger for something else?
The more he thought about it, the less he liked it.
"Guests, we've arrived."
The bubble boat operator's voice jolted him back to himself.
Axel realized he was the last one still on board.
"Got it."
He grabbed his wooden sword and hopped down from the boat in one clean motion.
This was Grove 31, the outermost edge of the amusement district nearest to the lawless zone. Even with the three of them arriving, nothing about the place changed. People still flowed past in a constant stream. Bubble carts drifted by. Hawkers shouted. Music from some distant attraction bled into the air, lively and bright, as if the shadow hanging over Sabaody did not exist at all.
Axel turned his head toward Hawkins at once.
"Now tell me. What exactly is mysterious about the cookies, and why are they bad?"
Hawkins's face did not move.
"It's fate."
Axel's temple twitched.
"There you go again."
Hawkins said nothing more.
Axel almost cursed him on the spot. The worst part was that he could not even dismiss the answer. Hawkins was insufferable, yes, but never casually so. When he said something was bad, it usually was. His divinations had already proven that often enough.
That was exactly what made it annoying.
"Screw fate," Axel muttered under his breath. "Mystic fraud."
Still unconvinced, he opened one of the paper boxes, took out a few cookies, and ate them on the spot.
They tasted exactly the same as before.
Crisp. Sweet. Not amazing, but good.
Nothing wrong with them.
Just as Axel was about to keep thinking it through, Hawkins stepped forward, reached into the box, and took one himself.
Axel raised a brow.
"What, you want one too?"
Hawkins did not answer. He simply flicked the cookie with two fingers and sent it arcing neatly into the middle of the road.
Axel stared.
"…What are you doing?"
Before he got an answer, someone suddenly slipped out from the side street and appeared in front of them with astonishing smoothness.
The newcomer wore ragged but carefully arranged clothes. His posture was deferential, his smile easy, and his eyes sharp in the way of a man who survived by reading other people fast.
"My name is Eli," he said at once, bowing slightly. "And from this moment on, I'd very much like to be your guide."
So that was it.
Axel looked at the cookie on the ground, then at Hawkins, then back at Eli.
Hawkins, of course, remained expressionless.
Axel felt an urge to throw the whole box at his face.
Eli, unaware of the silent exchange, continued smoothly, "You came in by bubble boat, which means you aren't familiar with the routes here. And…" His gaze slid toward Hawkins. "This gentleman has been paying a great deal of attention to the direction of the lawless zone. So I'm guessing your destination lies deeper in that area."
He spread his hands with a practiced smile.
"I know Sabaody well. Better than most. I know which paths are safe, which shops cheat outsiders, which alleys to avoid, and which people are better paid off than offended. If you let me guide you, I can save you a great deal of trouble."
He was good. Axel had to give him that.
Every word landed cleanly, every advantage laid out with just enough confidence and just enough restraint.
"I think having a guide would be useful," Axel said. "It saves us the trouble of scouting around blind. What do you think, Uncle Issho?"
Issho considered it for a moment, then nodded. "It would make finding those people faster."
Axel turned to Hawkins. "And you?"
"Fine."
That was as much enthusiasm as Hawkins was ever likely to show.
Eli's smile widened.
"Excellent. I promise, you'll find my services worth far more than the price."
"We haven't asked about the price yet," Axel said.
"Not expensive at all." Eli gave the kind of smile that immediately made Axel suspect the exact opposite. "You won't pay me a separate guiding fee. I only take five percent of whatever you spend while buying goods."
Axel almost laughed.
A clever structure.
If they bought nothing, he earned nothing.
If they bought something expensive, he made a small fortune.
And given the quality of the clothes Axel's group was wearing—Toba's gift, made from excellent material and clearly worth more than it looked—Eli had probably already pegged them as wealthy visitors. That explained the pricing method.
Unfortunately for him, Axel and the others had not come to Sabaody to shop.
"Alright," Axel said.
Eli blinked.
He had clearly been ready to haggle.
"Alright?" he repeated.
"Alright."
For a moment, Eli looked almost disappointed that the negotiation had ended so quickly.
Then, before he could say anything else, the atmosphere of the street changed.
It happened all at once.
The chatter thinned. The air seemed to tighten. A cold ripple of fear spread outward through the crowd like wind bending a field of grass. People who had been laughing moments earlier went pale and hurriedly lowered their heads. Some dropped to their knees where they stood. Others rushed for walls, corners, or any patch of shadow they could find.
The whole district had just received the same message without a word being spoken.
A Celestial Dragon was coming.
Eli's face changed instantly.
"Quick," he whispered sharply. "Either kneel now and keep your head down, or hide. And whatever you do, don't look directly at them."
He was already moving as he spoke, slipping toward a narrow recessed corner beside a storefront.
"Kneeling in the street isn't safe either," he muttered. "Best to hide before he reaches us."
Axel, Issho, and Hawkins followed him without protest, taking cover in the shadowed corner.
Eli crouched low at once, nearly kneeling despite the shelter, his whole body tense. He looked like a man hoping that if the heavens glanced his way, they might overlook him by accident.
The pressure in the air grew heavier.
Then the procession came into view.
At the center of it was a bloated man with black hair combed neatly back, wearing the white clothes of the Celestial Dragons and a transparent bubble helmet over his head. His face had the soft, spoiled look of someone who had never once been denied anything in his life.
He rode atop a human mount.
A heavy chain hung from one of his hands, and at the other end of it staggered a large Fish-Man, dragged forward like a dog. The Fish-Man's body was strong by nature, but what remained of that strength had been worn down by endless abuse. His shoulders were bowed. His steps dragged. There was no spirit left in his eyes.
Behind and around the noble moved men in black suits and armed Marines, all surrounding him like a wall.
Eli swallowed hard.
"That's Saint Clarence," he whispered. "He doesn't come to the civilian district often, but whenever he does, there's always trouble."
"Saint Clarence?" Axel repeated softly.
Eli nodded without lifting his head.
"Every single time he appears, someone dies. So whatever you do, don't make a sound."
Axel fell quiet.
A Celestial Dragon in the civilian district. Marines accompanying him. A broken Fish-Man dragged by the throat of a chain.
And Hawkins had said the cookies were bad.
At last, Axel had a feeling he was starting to understand what that meant.
Maybe not the details.
But the direction of it, yes.
Very bad things were about to happen.
.....
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