Chapter 15
Chapter 15: Fishing by the Blackwater River
Horse hooves clattered over the city rails, wheels shaking and jolting between the stone bricks.
This was the first time Funisi had seen a horse-drawn carriage carrying people since descending from the airship to the city. The driver wore a gloomy expression, and the horses hurried through the streets, showing no intention of stopping anywhere.
Greycliff Fortress Black City, Blackwater River District.
Luther Alley.
She stood on the wet street, gazing toward the city center. The ruined stone fortress still stood atop distant peaks, and the entire city-state had been built around that former castle.
After a great fire called “revolution,” the former Greycliff Fortress was left with nothing but ash and dust, and the old nobility had been driven from the city-state.
Today’s Greycliff Fortress had become truly gray clouds. The fortress lord and gang leaders resided high above the clouds, their massive aerial fortress floating perpetually in the thick fog, gears grinding and clicking as they turned, steam and flames spouting and cascading down.
The areas remaining on the surface were called the “Black City.”
Because from above, the earthbound Greycliff Fortress looked like a mass of black. The people bustling about in the city were small and pitiful, and they didn’t care what the so-called revolution had taken away or brought—just as always.
Funisi turned to face the shop window. Under the lamplight, she saw her own reflection through the glass.
A silver-haired girl, elegant and dignified as if stepped from a painting, wore a snow-white Gothic dress more conservative than her previous styles. The fluffy skirt hem reached her calves, and her milk-white shoulders were properly hidden beneath luxurious velvet fabric, leaving only her collarbones faintly visible at the neckline, retaining the last traces of allure and suggestion.
Given a certain witch’s controlling nature, she definitely wouldn’t allow Funisi to expose too much flesh outside, so the overall outfit leaned toward refined beauty.
Funisi adjusted the light blue sun hat atop her head while looking at her reflection in the glass. Her carefully braided silver hair flowed down along her shoulders. The hat brim concealed her small horns but couldn’t hide the delicate silver bells that chimed pleasantly.
The girl alternately tapped her left and right feet on the ground—still seven-centimeter heels, crisp and clear.
Even when going out, that certain witch hadn’t forgotten to continue tormenting her. White over-knee socks and high-heeled thick-soled Mary Jane shoes were all mandatory. Funisi had to maintain proper dress throughout.
She held a closed light pink ladies’ parasol and a pure white leather handbag in her hands hanging before her, standing obediently and beautifully like a noble young lady.
Dignified and elegant.
But this was the result of Funisi’s best efforts to maintain composure.
Once she returned to the private room where no one could see, she definitely couldn’t stop the lust rushing to her mind and would immediately shed her dress, face flushed, to roughly reward herself in front of the mirror.
She stopped letting herself think about such things.
“Come on, Funisi.” The girl whispered to her reflection.
“How cute you look talking to yourself.” Cesya’s teasing voice suddenly came from behind.
Funisi jumped in fright. She turned around with an embarrassed expression, then bowed her head and said softly, “Miss Witch, you’ve returned?”
“A reward for being obedient.” Cesya bent down slightly and handed her a stick of cotton candy. “Keep me company for a bit longer, then I’ll let you move freely.”
Funisi took the small wooden stick and examined it carefully. The soft white snow was covered with golden honey, its sweet aroma spreading around her nostrils in no time.
When she was still Sera Fred, she would never have been interested in such sweets, but after being transformed into a girl, her taste buds seemed to have undergone some unknowable major renovation.
The result was that Funisi had completely become a slave to desserts—a single milk candy, a plate of pudding, or a piece of cake could easily buy her over.
“No problem, Miss Witch.” The girl nodded.
Cesya also wore a dress in a similar style, all in unchanging black.
She held a lace-trimmed parasol dark as night and took Funisi’s small hand, walking briskly around one or two corners and through three or four streets.
The Blackwater River District was Greycliff Fortress’s famous industrial zone, actually controlled by the Blood Wine Society.
Factory wastewater pipes fed into the river that crossed the city-state. This was the main production site of smokestacks and smog. Opening a parasol was never for blocking sunlight—ash like black snow drifted and fell from the dark clouds.
The snow-white Funisi appeared conspicuous and dazzling in such a place.
The dull-eyed workers on the street, seemingly soulless, all turned to look at this combination of a young woman and girl, because young women who looked so obviously high-born from a distance were unlikely to come to the Blackwater River District, which only had smoke, ash, and the stench of sweat.
“So many… stares…” Funisi said quietly.
“Don’t mind them, look ahead, girl.” Cesya said lightly. “The Blood Wine Society recently raised their protection fee collection standards again. The atmosphere in the Blackwater River District isn’t what it used to be.”
“I heard it’s three times higher than the Kingdom of Corenzo’s taxes, and no ordinary worker can escape it—aren’t they afraid the workers will rise up in rebellion someday?” Funisi asked.
“No one can easily shake the foundation of Greycliff Fortress’s four major gangs. This is where the bottom-tier order of the free city-state lies. As long as the Blood Wine Society still has a reason to exist, the other three gangs won’t allow that level of unrest to occur.”
As they were about to pass an alley entrance, Cesya suddenly wrapped her arm around Funisi’s waist, pulling her closer.
The girl immediately heard wailing and screams from the alley entrance, the sound of fists striking flesh.
“Please… please…”
“This is a lesson. There won’t be a next time. If you can’t produce money, we’ll take your daughter as payment.”
The conversation reached her ears, and Funisi, hiding in the witch’s embrace, turned pale.
“Tsk, they’re already openly kidnapping people.” Cesya frowned. “How many innocent girls have these bastards abducted like this?”
This was obviously said for Funisi to hear.
Cesya was using various methods to push the investigation of the Whisper Potion production site and Moira’s disappearance onto Funisi, such as occasionally prodding her conscience like just now.
“Miss Witch, I’ll keep an eye out if I discover any clues… but that doesn’t seem to be the current priority, does it?” Funisi tugged at Cesya’s sleeve. “Rusted sword secretions… where do you think I should start?”
“The Blackwater River District’s secret warehouse. Their people might know its location.” Cesya’s hint was brief.
The witch’s steps stopped in front of an inn, and Funisi stopped with her.
Unlike the other cheap and filthy conditions in the Blackwater River District, this inn closer to the George District in the center of Black City appeared more clean and upscale. A wooden sign hung between slightly rusted iron railings.
It read: “Inn of the Blackwater River and Black Cat.”
Lengthy and awkward.
The person who named it definitely wasn’t very talented.
Cesya released Funisi and turned around. “Come back here when you make progress. Tell the front desk you’re from the Black Rose Society.”
Funisi tilted her head.
“A fish has taken the bait. Remember to act confused and helpless.” Cesya smiled mischievously and waved. “Well then, girl, have fun.”
In the blink of an eye, the black-haired witch had already disappeared behind the door, and the copper bell outside the inn swayed gently.
Funisi helplessly opened her smaller parasol by herself. She looked down and checked her attire left and right. “Act confused and helpless? Like a child who’s lost her sister?”
The sound of shoes on water, rapid footsteps approaching from behind.
Funisi turned around and saw one fat and one tall man walking directly toward her. The fat man wore work clothes with his sleeves rolled up halfway, and his arm was tattooed with a goblet.
The goblet had no rim—instead, there was a skull with a dagger piercing through the bone, and a venomous snake coiled up along the stem.
This was a Blood Wine Society tattoo.
She could naturally see the sinister smiles secretly showing at the corners of both men’s mouths, their eyes unable to hide greed and joy, as if their evil intentions had already succeeded.
“Such ugly fish.” Funisi couldn’t help but mutter under her breath.