Chapter Sixteen: The Nouveau Riche of Shenzhen and Hong Kong

When Clarisse awoke, she found herself already in the inn. Her head throbbed with a splitting pain.

She soon noticed that her bedside was crowded with people.

Hugh, Daisy, Lanty, old butler Alec, and several other girls surrounded her, their eyes all fixed on her.

“All right, she’s awake now, nothing’s wrong. Make her a cup of hot tea, but remember, not too strong,” Hugh instructed.

Daisy stood up. “I’ll do it.”

Clarisse gazed at Hugh with bewildered eyes. “Did something happen to me? Why are so many people here? Shouldn’t I be at the Lanya Grand Theatre?”

“You’re back now, nothing happened. You were just too exhausted and fainted,” Hugh soothed her gently.

“No, that’s not right. I think I had a nightmare. Oh God, it was so horrible. In the dream, I was like a—” Clarisse’s memories tumbled over themselves as she tried to recall.

She stared blankly at Hugh. “You were in my dream. You appeared before me like a true knight.”

Hugh quietly tucked the blanket around her. “You need to rest now. Trust me, it’s all over.”

“Oh, no! Tell me, Fink, what really happened?!” Clarisse clutched Hugh’s arm and cried out desperately.

No one answered.

In truth, she didn’t need anyone else’s answer.

Mindbloom could shatter a person’s reason, but it couldn’t erase their memory. In fact, people usually recalled most of what happened after waking.

As expected, Clarisse’s expression changed gradually.

She fixed her gaze on Hugh. “It wasn’t a dream, was it?”

Hugh forced a wry smile. “No, it wasn’t a dream.”

Clarisse’s face froze, and she leaned against Hugh’s shoulder, beginning to weep.

Hugh made a subtle gesture to the others, and they quietly slipped away.

After a while, Hugh came out of Clarisse’s room to address the anxious crowd outside.

“She’s fine, just a bit overwhelmed. Let her have some time alone to compose herself. She’ll be all right.”

The others finally relaxed.

It was still old butler Alec who was the most meticulous. “Mr. Fink, may I ask how you managed to rescue the troupe leader from Tock’s hands? I mean, will this cause any...”

“You want to know if I did anything to that manager, don’t you?” Hugh asked.

Alec nodded.

“Don’t worry. I’ve taken care of it. There won’t be any trouble. In fact, that manager Tock is quite a reasonable man. After I spelled things out for him, he immediately recognized his mistake and promised to amend his ways,” Hugh replied with a cheeky grin.

Alec felt dizzy.

Spelled things out for him?

Even though he hadn’t seen Hugh storm the theatre to save her, the blood on Hugh’s clothes when he returned spoke volumes.

But since the young man seemed so confident, Alec felt there was nothing more he could say. He hurried away, already planning to order everyone to be ready to leave Scentleaf City at a moment’s notice.

Lanty seized Hugh’s arm anxiously. “She’s really all right?”

Hugh glanced around carefully, then suddenly covered his mouth and chuckled. Pulling Lanty into a gentle embrace, he whispered, “She’s more than fine. In fact, her spirits surprised me. Do you know what your troupe leader was most concerned about just now?”

“What was it?” Lanty asked, her eyes wide.

Hugh whispered, “She wasn’t concerned about her virtue, nor about that good-for-nothing young master. What worried her most was whether she’d done anything out of line on the way back.”

“Oh!” Lanty exclaimed. “The troupe leader is always so particular about her image. If she found out she was shouting and screaming about wanting to—well, with you—”

“She’d lose her mind.”

The two exchanged a glance and burst into laughter.

Hugh gave Lanty’s hand a squeeze. “Let everyone know not to breathe a word of this. Let it end here.”

“But that manager...”

“As I said, he won’t be any threat to us,” Hugh replied, wearing a confident smile.

By the afternoon, Clarisse’s spirits had improved considerably.

Annoyingly, that big-mouthed Lanty let slip something about Clarisse’s loss of composure, which left Clarisse both furious and mortified. She wept bitterly in her room.

As punishment, Hugh gave Lanty a sound spanking that afternoon. Strangely, she seemed to enjoy it; her bare figure, the way she curled up, was utterly enchanting. Her pleading voice was sweet and alluring, and even the feigned look of fear in her eyes could melt the stoniest heart.

As a result, Hugh soon lost his resolve and their punishment session turned into something quite different, leaving Hugh feeling helpless.

He sighed at his own youth, unable to resist temptation.

Worst of all, he didn’t really want to resist it.

But because of all this, Clarisse didn’t dare face Hugh anymore.

Whenever she saw him, she’d avoid him.

Once, she had been a formidable, stingy leader; now, she’d become a shy girl who dodged Hugh at every turn. Hugh could only smile wryly.

As night fell, Hugh finally received the guest he’d been awaiting.

The old butler came to inform him: members of the Brownie family had arrived.

The Brownie family was the real power behind the Lanya Grand Theatre.

They were one of Scentleaf City’s most influential families.

Unlike the purely commercial Carmel family, the Brownies were true aristocrats, of nobler birth and far greater political clout. The family’s current head, Bernard Brownie, was none other than the Chief of Internal Affairs for the Varsar District.

The Internal Affairs Office was, in fact, one of the intelligence agencies of the Lance Empire. Aside from the army and the mages of the Arcane Tower, the empire’s security machine consisted of three major agencies: the Bureau of State Security, the Bureau of Legal Affairs, and the Internal Affairs Office.

The Bureau of State Security oversaw domestic security, the Bureau of Legal Affairs handled external threats, and the Internal Affairs Office was the emperor’s own watchdog—an agency that monitored other organizations and the high nobility for Emperor Streik VI.

This office had little influence over commoners, but to those in the upper echelons of nobility, it was a terrifying presence. Thus, the Brownies held an unshakable position in Scentleaf City and throughout the Varsar District.

Their guest arrived cloaked in black, his hood shrouding nearly his entire head save for a pair of dark eyes. Walking in the shadows, he looked like some evil sorcerer—he only lacked a bone staff.

When he reached Hugh, the man pushed back his hood, revealing a middle-aged face with two neat mustaches at the corners of his lips, giving him a certain distinguished air.

He bowed respectfully to Hugh, then spoke in a measured tone. “Forgive me for calling at such a late hour, esteemed Alchemist.”

“It seems your family works efficiently. I suppose you’ve already determined that no one but me can resolve Tock’s predicament, am I right?” Hugh replied coolly.

The man smiled. “Yes, we have. Oh, and Tock is my nephew. I’m here on behalf of our family head to apologize for the wrongs he committed against you and your troupe today.”

“How surprising. I thought you might take a much more forceful approach to resolve this.”

“That depends on the opponent. We are not people to be trifled with, but neither do we consider ourselves so arrogant as to underestimate anyone. An outstanding alchemist is not someone we wish to offend. Even if we could afford it, we’d rather avoid such unpleasantness. Besides, I believe your actions today have created an opportunity for peace.”

“But I killed five of your men. If word of this got out, your family’s reputation would suffer.”

“If they were unable to protect the young master, they deserved to die. Rest assured, everyone who knows of this has already been silenced. No one will spread it.”

Hugh couldn’t help but admire the man’s decisiveness.

They’d chosen the most effective course at once—sealing lips and seeking peace.

Had it been another family or a foolish leader, they might have flown into a rage and tried to eradicate the entire troupe at any cost. But the Brownies were clearly shrewd. They realized it would be unwise to antagonize an alchemist, especially with their young master poisoned by one. So their first move wasn’t revenge, but to silence witnesses and search the city for an antidote.

Judging by the drug Hugh had given Tock, the young man had simply fallen into a coma without suffering, which was a tacit hint that Hugh was leaving them an out.

The Brownies quickly grasped the implication.

Once they’d ascertained that no one else could solve the problem, the family’s senior member came to negotiate, requesting the antidote—a logical progression.

“May I ask your name?” Hugh inquired.

“Claude Brownie. I am Bernard’s brother. I believe you’ve heard of Bernard Brownie. If you wish to put this matter to rest, I can, on behalf of my family, agree to it. We can swear a blood oath never to trouble the Violet Troupe or yourself, but Violet must leave Scentleaf City within three days.”

“That hardly sounds like you’re the one seeking my help.”

Claude’s face darkened. “Mr. Danitto, perhaps I should remind you of the consequences of offending the Brownie family. My being here is already the greatest concession we can make.”

He was surprised by the youth’s unyielding attitude; Hugh seemed far older than his years.

“But I’ve heard Bernard has only one son?” Hugh stared coldly at the man.

Claude’s face grew darker. “You cannot extort anything from us with his life. The Brownie family does not yield to threats. If it’s money you want, we can provide a sum, but I hope you won’t be unreasonable.”

Striding up to Claude, Hugh declared, “I have no interest in money. What I want is for you and your family to realize that the one responsible for all this is not me, but Tock himself. The drug he gave my friend could have killed her!”

“That—”

“Claude, if you want me to hand over the antidote and spare your nephew’s life, I expect you to show genuine sincerity.”

Claude took a long breath. “The Violet Troupe will have the golden performance slot on Christmas Day—free of charge. That’s my greatest concession. Isn’t that what they want?”

“Very good.” Hugh nodded in satisfaction. “After the performance, Violet will leave Scentleaf City, and so will I. I trust your family won’t do anything further to anger me. Also, find a reason for this arrangement. I don't want the people of Violet to know of my involvement.”

“Why?”

“To me, they’re but passing figures in my life. I prefer to win over each beautiful girl with my own merits, not as an alchemist. That gives me a greater sense of accomplishment.” Hugh did not want the Brownies to think the troupe meant much to him; that would be revealing weakness. This way, he implied that his interest in helping was solely due to their beauty.

“I see.” Claude laughed. “So Tock stole your prey—no wonder you’re so angry. Then it’s settled.”

When Claude left the inn, he wore his black hood once again.

A luxurious carriage waited at the door.

Inside, Claude ordered, “Take this potion back at once and give it to Master Tock.”

A warrior mounted a fast horse and sped off.

Tapping on the carriage window, another guard appeared.

“Find some sharp men to keep watch over this inn, especially the alchemist called Fink. Odd, isn’t it, for a dance troupe to be associating with an alchemist? Investigate his background. Oh, and he’s very young; as an alchemist, do you think it’s possible he might actually be that wanted man, Hugh Greil? During our conversation, I noticed that, aside from his hair color, he matches Hugh Greil in every other respect—age, height, weight, most importantly, both are alchemists.”

That was the way of great houses—they always had better information.

The guard replied instantly, “If that’s the case, we should notify the Bureau of State Security immediately.”

“No.” Claude shook his head. “If so, this is our chance for great merit. Why let the Bureau and that upstart from Deep Harbor claim the credit? Have an artist sketch his likeness and send it to my brother in Old York City. If it’s him, the glory will belong to the Varsar Internal Affairs Office. The Bureau will lose face. As for the Violet Troupe and Clarisse... The sages were right—never leave seeds of disaster. Once we take care of that alchemist, I want every woman in that troupe sold off to the lowest, vilest brothels. No exceptions!”

His tone was chilling, steeped in ruthless malice.

No one had ever dared treat the Brownies with such impudence; even the city lord showed them respect. That troupe and the alchemist had to be destroyed.

“As you wish,” the guard replied respectfully.

Claude patted the coachman’s shoulder, and the carriage rolled away.

High above, a transparent nightingale fluttered its wings, dissolving into a whisper of wind.

In the courtyard, Hugh stood expressionless, turning over a phrase in his mouth: “That upstart from Deep Harbor... Could that cunning hound have come from Deep Harbor?”

He wasn’t surprised by Claude’s suspicions.

From the moment he intervened, he knew his exposure was only a matter of time.

Despite all his previous caution—selling potions, trading recipes for ingredients, masking his presence in every way—he hadn’t anticipated Clarisse would fall into danger, forcing him to act openly.

Now, he could no longer prevent others from suspecting his true identity, and his plans were in shambles.

His location was bound to be discovered.

Perhaps it was fate.

For Hugh, exposure was not in itself a catastrophe; what troubled him most was how to keep the troupe from being implicated...

“Sell all the women into brothels... Claude, you’re right. One should never leave seeds of disaster behind.” He tasted Claude’s words, a cold glint in his eyes.