Dark Fantasy Normalized-Chapter 96: The Incomprehensible Man (1)

“...”

Ran exhaled through her nose as she read the secret ledger that Lisir had handed her.

Indeed, the ledger contained enough suspicious material to be considered illicit. But its core contents were cleverly obscured through coded phrases and symbolic structure.

It was like a puzzle.

Even Ran—who had encountered many such documents during her dealings with the city’s underworld—found this one difficult to unravel.

“So this entry about Gerhen’s visit to [Left Hand Holds Liquor]... on paper, nothing seems off. But... they wouldn’t go out of their way to write it like this if there wasn’t something off...”

Eventually, a deep furrow formed between Ran’s brows.

If this ledger had been brought in by any other young noble, she would have immediately demanded an explanation.

A document that could damage the political life of a councilor who ruled Bondales’ criminal underworld with near-absolute power?

How was it obtained?

Was this even really the secret ledger of [Left Hand Holds Liquor]?

Under normal circumstances, Ran would have had a mountain of questions.

But if that young man’s name was Lisir?

Ran was a creature of learning.

From her accumulated experience, she had come to understand that when it came to Lisir, the best course of action was not to ask, not to probe, but to simply say: “Yes.”

When he’d made a demon—one worshipped by cultists—his own familiar(?)... even then.

If she’d reacted as she normally would—“Convince me”—things would have gotten complicated.

But all she’d said was, “A demon became your familiar? Sure.” And the matter had resolved itself in record time.

Which is why, now, she didn’t dare ask Lisir about the ledger.

She simply suffered in silence, stewing in her own internal confusion.

“What exactly did he see in this to conclude it was a black ledger...?”

Lisir, watching her expression for a while, quietly offered:

“Would you... like me to explain?”

“Ah—yes.”

Ran barely held back from blurting out, Absolutely!.

After all, she was a city councilor tasked with crushing criminal operations. It would be... unseemly to admit to a young magician, “Sorry, but I don’t get why this is a black ledger.”

Hm? Ah.

Lisir, sensing her hesitation, adjusted his phrasing.

“Come to think of it—I never did explain the basis for my conclusion. If you don’t mind, would it be all right if I shared it now?”

“...Would you?”

Ran had lost count of how many times she’d been surprised by Lisir’s tact.

Nobles were creatures of status.

When they dealt with fellow nobles, they always tried to maintain superiority—at least on the surface.

This was especially true among young nobles like Lisir, who had just come of age and begun to perceive their own specialness.

At that age, it was common to overreach in public, to show off one’s talents with a touch of rudeness. So much so, in fact, that it was considered the duty of older nobles to forgive such youthful missteps with grace.

But with Lisir, Ran never got the chance to be that gracious elder.

His comportment was far too poised for someone his age.

Come to think of it... he never mentioned his family, did he...?

For the first time, Ran found herself wondering about Lisir’s origins.

When nobles met, it was normal to ask after one’s family first. But this one had tamed a demon before anyone could get to that question.

He can’t be a bastard, surely...?

Among nobles, concealing one’s lineage was often taken as a sign of illegitimacy.

But Ran couldn’t bring herself to associate Lisir’s character—or his abilities—with such a thing.

So why does he hide his lineage...?

As Ran wandered deeper into her imagination, Lisir began his explanation.

He repeated what Clarna had told him, guiding Ran and the three giants through the hidden meanings in the ledger.

“...”

As they listened to Lisir speak, Ran and the giants went from satisfied nods to increasingly troubled expressions.

He knows... way too much, doesn’t he?

The way he described criminal behavior—their patterns, methods, mentality—was almost expert.

It wasn’t just a theoretical understanding. It sounded like the lived experience of someone who’d spent years among criminals.

How had a boy his age, fresh from his coming-of-age ceremony, learned all this?

“...Did that make sense?”

“...Yes. That was more than enough.”

Their doubts about the ledger had been completely cleared up.

And in exchange, their doubts about Lisir as a person only grew deeper.

***

That evening, just before sunset—

Lisir returned to Ran’s office, having been summoned.

“Ah, Lisir.”

Ran looked up from her desk, lost in thought.

Her face lit up when she saw him—but immediately turned serious again.

She’d been thinking.

Gadum must be in a state of panic, having lost his mercenaries and the black ledger.

And he must suspect her as the culprit.

This was her opportunity.

Ran had been drawing up a plan to strike while Gadum was on the back foot.

But—

Gadum was no ordinary opponent.

Ran carefully broached the subject after Lisir sat down.

“Gadum... has invited both of us to a banquet this evening.”

Just moments earlier, Gadum’s aide had delivered the invitation to her office.

Even now, he was trying to take control of the situation.

Ran had nearly forgotten she held the upper hand.

She wanted to decline.

Not because she feared Gadum, but because she didn’t want to give an inch of ground when she had him cornered.

“What do you want to do?”

She figured Lisir would feel the same.

But if he didn’t... What did he think?

Ran watched his face with equal parts hope and concern.

“I don’t mind.”

“You... don’t?”

“No. It’s just dinner, isn’t it?”

Lisir smiled, easygoing.

“If the bigwigs want to eat, then what can I do? Besides, Gadum’s a piece of work, sure—but he’s not stupid enough to stir up trouble after inviting a fellow councilor. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

So thought the unassuming citizen of the city.

“...!”

Ran was stunned.

Just dinner...?

Lisir had taken care of Gadum’s barbarian mercenaries.

He knew exactly what kind of man Gadum was.

And yet here he was, treating the idea of walking into that man’s house as “just dinner.”

Ran let out a small laugh.

Talking to Lisir made her feel silly for ever taking Gadum seriously.

Compared to whatever Lisir really was, Gadum’s power was meaningless.

“You’re right. It’s just a meal. So there’s nothing to worry about, is there?”

Gadum would never get what he wanted from this young mage.

Ran was confident in that.

“...!”

Lisir’s eyes widened at her words.

Reliable as ever. Councilor Ran—my rope of fate, nice and sturdy.

He too, trusted her completely.

“With you by my side? What could go wrong?”

“Heh...”

“Heheheh...”

Together, the two made their way to Gadum’s estate—feeling stronger for each other’s presence.

***

"Ran. Welcome. It must’ve been a sudden invitation, and yet you accepted so readily. You've truly saved my face."

A man of considerable girth smiled with satisfaction—Councilor Gadum.

He sat across from his guests in the reception room, concealing the deep unease that had taken root within him.

“They actually came?”

The news that the Cadogan siblings—who oversaw the red-light district—had abruptly abandoned Gadum’s enterprise and fled Bondales had already swept through the city like wildfire.

In its wake, Gadum’s “friends” were restless with anxiety, while his “enemies” were sharpening their knives.

Just as Ran had predicted, Gadum felt a crushing sense of crisis.

That was the real reason for this hastily arranged banquet at his estate.

Gadum had planned to gather his “friends” and show them Ran’s empty seat—to signal that his enemies still feared him, that his power remained unshaken.

But then—this happened.

Ran had accepted.

“Why...? Ran, you're not the type to make such a foolish decision.”

Gadum’s estate was located in a district wholly under his control.

There wasn’t a resident in the area who wasn’t a “friend” of his, and the security force operating here was firmly under his command, maintaining “order” in his name.

If anything were to happen inside his estate, those very guards would arrive in the name of public duty—and exercise “legitimate” force.

This place was Gadum’s empire, nestled within Bondales.

And Ran had always been wary of that—she had never once accepted his invitations.

But now, she was sitting here, taking up a seat in his reception room.

With just one companion.

“Could it be... because of him?”

Gadum’s gaze shifted toward the young man.

This was the first time he’d laid eyes on him in person.

“Lisir...”

And the moment he did, all of Gadum’s swirling questions seemed to resolve.

How had Ran purged the cultists hiding in the city before they could cause any trouble?

How had she shielded her colleagues from Gadum’s bribery?

How had she resisted his attempts to buy her off?

How had she dared to set foot in his domain without flinching?

“It was all because of him...”

At last, Gadum saw the true adversary he now faced.

“...”

“..."

Lisir met Gadum’s gaze—and gave him a mild, courteous smile.

There was something so young and ordinary about him that Gadum couldn’t help but smile back.

“So this is what all the fuss is about.”

Gadum had dealt with nobles and power-brokers of every sort to reach his current position.

A kid like this? Gadum could handle him blindfolded.

“The banquet should be ready. Shall we move?”

Gadum’s unease had vanished without a trace.

Already, he was grinning in anticipation of the entertainment to come.

***

Banquet Hall

The long rectangular table was already packed with guests.

“What do you suppose Lord Gadum plans to do now?”

“He’s been under enough pressure with that whole business about the ‘Master’ and the ‘Saint.’ And now Ran’s making her move...”

“Are we certain that the [Left Hand Holds Liquor] incident was Ran’s doing?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Did Ran even have that kind of power before?”

“Hm...”

“Maybe she made a new friend somewhere—oh. Speak of the devil.”

“...Huh?”

The room fell utterly silent.

Councilor Ran had appeared.

And with her, someone who was very clearly not invited.

“Councilor Ran.”

Those seated near the head of the table—city nobles with {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} power nearly on par with the councilors—greeted her with strained politeness.

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Didn’t Gadum tell you I was coming?”

“Well, that is—”

This was Gadum’s domain. Ran should have been on the back foot.

With that assumption, the two nobles had tried to initiate a power-play. But Ran’s firm demeanor had them backing down immediately.

“Where shall we sit?”

Flustered, they quickly surrendered their seats beside the head table, giving way to Ran and Lisir.

The room, thoroughly overwhelmed, simmered in stunned silence.

Ran looked toward Lisir with deep satisfaction.

“Thanks to you, I get to experience moments like this.”

She hoped the look in her eyes conveyed that message.

“That’s the kind of person I am.”

Lisir returned her gaze with a smile.

“Wow, those guys looked like real big shots, but they folded right up in front of our councilor.”

He hoped that expression reached her too.

“You’re too kind.”

“Fufu...”

“Fufu...”

Just as they were basking in mutual pride—

“Let it begin.”

Gadum, seated at the head of the table, gave the order. The doors to the banquet hall opened, and a line of servants entered.

They moved swiftly, placing dishes and drinks along the long table.

Lisir and Ran’s seats were the last to be served.

A special bottle of wine was placed before them—at Gadum’s specific request.

“This is Modea.”

“...”

At the sound of that name, Ran’s expression darkened.

Modea.

A wine adored by Bondales’ nobles for a variety of... reasons.

Its unique aging process created a rich, complex flavor. However, it was extremely sensitive to mishandling—one small mistake, and it would spoil.

Spoiled Modea carried a mild toxin. Those who drank it would suffer vomiting and temporary hallucinations.

Among Bondales’ upper crust, it was common to serve spoiled Modea to unwelcome guests.

The bottle Gadum had provided had already been opened.

This was a message: This bottle is bad. Handle yourself accordingly.

It was shameful for a noble to refuse alcohol at a banquet. But vomiting and raving in public? Worse.

“...”

Ran let out a faint laugh of disbelief.

Such a cheap trick to try and humiliate her.

Then again—it was effective.

“Oh dear. I don’t think I’m in the mood to drink tonight.”

She forced herself to keep a neutral face as she spoke.

“On such a fine occasion? With such fine wine?”

“Yes, it seems that way.”

“Hmph. What a shame.”

This was the expected give-and-take of political disgrace.

But then—

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll drink on Councilor Ran’s behalf.”

Ran blinked in surprise and turned to look at Lisir.

There was no way someone like him didn’t know about Modea.

Lisir looked back at her as if to say:

“I know my wine.”

A look that said:

“I’ve got this covered—just leave it to me.”

“...!”

Of course.

Ran had expected nothing less.

“..."

Gadum, too, was caught off guard by Lisir’s reaction. freewēbnoveℓ.com

Was he just an ignorant outsider?

No matter.

“Is that so? Then by all means—please, enjoy.”

He could easily turn this move around—simply by pouring the drink.

“So what now, boy?”

Gadum’s eyes gleamed.

Then—

“Thank you. I’ll gladly accept.”

Gadum clenched his teeth.

He was struggling not to laugh.

So full of youthful pride...

Drinking “poison” just to avoid a little embarrassment?

All this because of some brat?

Hovering between amusement and contempt, Gadum posed the question:

“How’s the taste?”

***

[You have resisted.]

***

“I haven’t had the pleasure of trying wine this fine before, so I don’t know if I can describe it properly. But I can tell—it’s definitely good wine.”

“Hahaha! Then you should drink plenty while you’re here! Come on, drink up!”

And so the process repeated.

“My, this is quite the show.”

“Indeed. I’ve never seen someone actually drink Modea before.”

The gathered nobles, watching this unfold, began to smirk with cruel delight.

But—

At a certain point, their expressions began to change.

“...Is that really Modea?”

“I’m sure it was already opened...”

Half the bottle was gone—but still, nothing.

No hallucinations. No vomiting. No drunken antics.

Lisir wasn’t even flushed. He merely sipped the wine, savoring the taste.

And then—

“It seems I’m the only one drinking. Would you mind if I poured you a glass?”

He reached out—toward Gadum’s own bottle of Modea—with a smile that was utterly sincere.

“..."

The seasoned politician’s eyes began to tremble.