Chapter 345, I’ve Got Your ID Now

Translator: Barnnn

Editor: Silavin

 

When Ollie was informed of Xeno’s announcement that he’d be bringing out not just Martot, but a selection of wines, she merely gave a thoughtful hum before vanishing into the kitchen. It seemed she’d taken it upon herself to prepare dishes to complement the wine.

 

Today, the two scions of House Babenberg had also happened to drop by the Clan House, likely for Ollie’s tea, which they had taken a liking to after long days as Explorers. When Smith heard talk of wine, a personal hobby of his, he emerged from the lounge looking immensely pleased with himself.

 

“Oho… Martot, is it?”

 

“What’s this? Planning to mooch off a bunch of Commoners?” Tsutomu gave a light jab, souring Smith’s mood instantly.

 

“Why you little… I’ll have you know I’m WELL ACCUSTOMED to Martot!”

 

“I’m just in the mood for a little drink, myself,” Biancaea added.

 

“Well, Xeno sounded like he was bringing quite a selection,” Tsutomu offered. “If you’d like, Biancaea, you’re welcome to join us.”

 

“Thank you kindly,” Biancaea replied, smiling warmly as she clasped her hands in front of her.

 

In stark contrast, Smith glared daggers at Tsutomu with narrowed eyes. He jabbed a finger at him as though issuing a formal duel.

 

“Mark my words, you simpleton! I shall return with a wine so fine, it will make that Xeno’s offerings taste like swill!”

 

With that grand proclamation, Smith climbed onto a floating magical Shield shaped like a surfboard and soared out through an open window, leaving Tsutomu blinking in stunned silence. Beside him, Biancaea lowered her golden brows in an apologetic gesture.

 

“I’m terribly sorry for… well, whatever my brother was trying to say.”

 

“No, no, there’s nothing for you to apologize for,” Tsutomu said quickly. “Is he… some kind of wine enthusiast?”

 

“He very much is. He even had a massive wine cellar installed beneath the estate. Truth be told, he’s even more passionate about it than our father is. I believe he sold it all off a while back, though…”

 

“…After the Stampede, I assume?”

 

“Yes. We were struggling financially, so he sold most if not all. That’s why I’m doubtful he has anything left to bring. He claims he’ll fetch something better, but… unless he has hidden reserves somewhere, and I certainly never saw any, it’s hard to believe he’s telling the truth. He does have connections, but it’s not like he has much coin to throw around these days.”

 

“I see… Do you know where he might be trying to buy something?”

 

Tsutomu wasn’t quite sure whether to feel bad or anxious, but either way, a sense of foreboding settled over him. When he asked about shops, Biancaea looked surprised.

 

“There is one place that comes to mind… but why do you ask? Are you planning to go after him?”

 

“Well, with his personality and current situation, I can only see this ending in a mess. Besides, he did help me during the Stampede; I owe him at least this much.”

 

Tsutomu remembered well how the Devourer Dragon’s unexpectedly powered-up attack had been barely repelled, thanks in large part to the Babenberg siblings. Afterwards, they had even sold their luxuries to provide relief for the townspeople, then taken up the harsh life of Explorers. It was something Tsutomu had not forgotten.

 

After grabbing a Magic Bag for shopping and making a quick round of preparations, he filled in Garm and a newly returned Leleia about Smith’s situation. While Leleia gave him a dubious look — rightfully so, as this certainly didn’t sound like a personal errand anymore — she agreed to help, on the condition that she’d get some wine out of it too.

 

“I haven’t been to this part of the city much,” Garm commented. “Do you know the area, Leleia?”

 

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Leleia nodded. “When I first arrived in Dungeon City, I used to take bodyguard jobs. I’m familiar with the layout.”

 

“Then we’re in your hands.”

 

The three of them, Garm and Leleia fully equipped, strolled through a district catering to the wealthy. As they walked, they exchanged brief signs and nods with the Security Team patrols they passed. Tsutomu walked between them, letting his gaze wander over the fine clothes of the well-to-do, his mind focused on the shop Biancaea had named.

 

“Ah, there he is.”

 

If Smith hadn’t been there, Tsutomu had planned to buy a random bottle and be done with it. But as expected, Smith stood just outside the storefront, peering intently at the wine on display. He hadn’t caused a scene, at least not yet, but his Noble bearing had already drawn attention.

 

“Isn’t that someone from House Babenberg…?”

 

“Where does he get the gall to buy wine when he hasn’t even made a name for himself as an Explorer?”

 

“Doesn’t he feel the least bit ashamed?”

 

The whispers weren’t subtle. A nouveau riche couple, adorned with so much gold they looked like walking treasure chests, and their entourage was murmuring just loudly enough for Smith to hear. They watched him with smug expressions, their words steeped in mockery.

 

Tsutomu gave a slight cough and stepped forward, signaling for Leleia to take the lead with her usual elegance.

 

“What business brings you here, Master Smith?” she asked, her tone formal and reserved.

 

Smith flinched at the overly polite greeting. “W-What in blazes!? A-ah, Lady Leleia. What are you doing here… and why are you speaking like that? It’s unsettling.”

 

While Smith fumbled for words, Leleia gently gestured toward the shop’s door, her eyes meeting the doorman’s in silent command. With a nod, the man opened the entrance for them.

 

Tsutomu stayed back, watching the scene unfold. Then, once Smith was in the store proper, he began murmuring to himself casually, though just loud enough to be heard by the nearby onlookers.

 

“Now, who’s been trash talking my friend, hmm? Let’s see… that one’s from the Routenia Trading Company, the Crown Workshop, and… hmm, a few executive wives. VERY interesting…”

 

One by one, he pointed at the gossiping parties, identifying their crests and naming them like checking off a list. The couple froze mid-sneer, clearly caught off guard. Their entourage instinctively looked to the tall, muscled captain of their squad of bodyguards for reassurance.

 

But the man simply shook his head and stepped forward, offering Tsutomu a wry, tired smile.

 

“…Mister Tsutomu, mind letting it go, yeah? They shouldn’t’ve said those things about your friend. I apologize on their behalf.”

 

The man, a level-40-something Explorer himself, recognized both Tsutomu and Garm on sight; he knew well what they were capable of. Against normal Explorers, he might have been able to intervene with confidence. But standing before Garm, whose power was on an entirely different plane, he knew there was no point in pretending.

 

The moment their own bodyguard captain bowed in apology, the gaudy nouveau riche couple stiffened in shock, their expressions growing more sour by the second. Tsutomu opened his mouth to say something to the apologetic guard, only to be hoisted lightly off the ground by the scruff of his neck as Garm calmly intervened.

 

“We’ll accept your apology,” Garm said in a firm voice. “We’ve no intention of escalating this.”

 

“Ah, that’s… that’s a relief,” the guard replied, visibly relaxing.

 

“I’ve memorized your faces, though…” Tsutomu added, scribbling something into a notepad like he was logging their IDs into a blacklist. “…Just in case.”

 

“Come on, Tsutomu,” Garm sighed. “Enough with the jokes.”

 

With an exaggerated huff, Tsutomu let himself be dragged into the store by Garm, still muttering under his breath like a villain in a second-rate play. The wealthy couple and their guards watched them go in stunned silence, as if a sudden summer squall had just passed.

 

The doorman, who had observed the whole scene, gave Tsutomu a vaguely sympathetic look as he stepped through the entrance. Straightening his clothes, Tsutomu took a moment to survey the interior.

 

Rows of wooden shelves lined with wine bottles framed a long counter, and nestled among them were vintages that likely predated Tsutomu himself. The clientele was no less distinguished: executives of major trading companies, renowned chefs from the city’s finest restaurants. They were individuals with both taste and means. Unlike the chattering wannabes outside, these people recognized Tsutomu and greeted him with subtle, courteous nods.

 

After exchanging a few greetings, he went to the counter, where Leleia was already engaged in discussion with the sommelier, examining several wine selections. Smith stood nearby, looking completely lost, as if the situation had escaped his understanding entirely.

 

“She told me what happened,” Smith said, glancing at Leleia. “But I can’t fathom what’s gotten into you.”

 

“No need to overthink it; I was just swayed by Biancaea’s story,” Tsutomu said simply. “Just go ahead and buy back your wine.”

 

“Tsutomu,” Leleia chimed in, gesturing toward a bottle. “I’d like this one.”

 

“…You picked it based on the price tag, didn’t you?”

 

Tsutomu grimaced at the bottle’s hefty multi-million label, but still reached into his Magic Bag and retrieved a few high-value coins, placing them in her hand.

 

They then turned to the shopkeeper to inquire about any bottles from Smith’s old collection still in stock. A few remained, and Tsutomu arranged for all of them to be bought back and delivered to Smith’s estate.

 

It was a surreal moment for Smith, watching his once-sold collection come home one bottle at a time. A dream he’d long abandoned, suddenly made real again. Yet his expression remained clouded.

 

“…You’re pitying me, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.

 

“Oh, please,” Tsutomu replied, half-smirking. “You think I’m that sentimental?”

 

“You’re not. That’s why this makes even less sense,” Smith muttered. “No. Now I get it. You did this just to humiliate me.”

 

“Do you honestly think I’d spend tens of millions of Gold just for that? Don’t flatter yourself.”

 

“Then you mean to tell me you truly acted on my sister’s suggestion? How foolish. Biancaea doesn’t have the slightest interest in you.”

 

“Hey now…”

 

Tsutomu pressed a hand to his forehead, exasperated, then gave the Smith’s Shield a light tap with his boot, as though to tell him to stop talking.

 

“Look, if this was just about you craving a drink, I’d have left you to it. But these wines… you didn’t sell them on a whim. You gave them up to help cover the damages from the Stampede, didn’t you?”

 

Smith narrowed his eyes but didn’t respond.

 

“I owe both you and your sister for that. So it only makes sense to buy back what was yours to begin with.”

 

“And what do YOU gain from doing that?” Smith asked, his tone heavy, “Don’t tell me you’re trying to win my favor. Do you think I can be bought?”

 

“Are you ever NOT off the mark?” Tsutomu muttered with a sigh, glancing out the window at the bustling street. “Stampedes may not be happening now, but they will come again. And when they do, we’ll need Shield magic. We’ll need the cooperation of the people living in Dungeon City. That means I need House Babenberg to recover. Buying your wine was just part of that. And on top of all that…” He looked back at Smith, his expression darkening. “Honestly, I just hate those kinds of stories.”

 

“…What kind of stories?”

 

“The kind where a man has to sell everything he loves just to get by,” Tsutomu said.

 

That, and stories where a husband or child’s collection of things that brought him joy got thrown away for no good reason… he’d seen many stories like that online, and they always left a bad taste in his mouth.

 

Smith stared at him, blinking slowly. Then his gaze grew a little sharper and a little more thoughtful.

 

“…So you DO pity me.”

 

“…”

 

Tsutomu folded his arms and averted his eyes ever so slightly.

 

Smith ran a hand through his blond hair, exhaling with a noise that was halfway between laughter and disbelief. Then he looked down, shaking his head.

 

“You fool.”

 

And yet, his voice was softer. And his face, for once, was free of scorn.

 

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Silavin: Oops. Seems like I haven’t posted the 2 chapters last week.