Chapter 125: Wrong Place, Right Person

Time to Hunt[2]

Chapter 125:Wrong Place, Right Person

The bouncer at the door gave me only a brief glance.

He didn’t ask any questions or block my way. I kept the shy smile on my face as I passed him and stepped inside.

Once the door closed behind me, the music I’d heard outside filled my entire body. The bass throbbed in my chest, while occasional bursts of laughter and shouting drowned out the lyrics.

The smell was worse, too.

Perfume, sweat, alcohol... And other smells I couldn’t identify and had no particular desire to.

I resisted the urge to wrinkle my nose.

After taking a few steps inside, I looked around. Purple lights illuminated tables arranged around dark couches. At one table, people leaned close to speak into each other’s ears. At another, a group laughed and raised their glasses. The crowd in the middle moved to the music, while servers wove between them with trays held at shoulder height.

There were more women than I’d expected.

In fact, at first glance, they seemed to outnumber the men.

I raised my eyebrows slightly. Weren’t places like this supposed to be full of men trying to pick up girls?

At least, that was how it worked in the movies I’d watched.

Of course, I’d never been anywhere like this in my previous life, either. Noctis’s memories didn’t offer anything useful on the subject.

I supposed that was one of the few things we had in common.

I turned toward the bar. Bottles of different shapes lined the shelves behind it. The lighting beneath them made the drinks look brighter than they really were.

I sat on an empty stool near the corner of the counter.

The bartender set down the glass he was holding and came over.

"What would you like, miss?"

I tilted my head slightly and looked at the shelves, then turned back to him as though I had no idea what any of those bottles contained.

Which wasn’t much of an act.

"What would you recommend?" I asked softly. "It’s my first time at a place like this."

The bartender’s gaze lingered on my face for a moment. Then a faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

"Ah... Well, you could start with something light, then."

He took a long-stemmed glass from beneath the counter.

"Try the Blue Garden. It’s a fruity cocktail, and it isn’t too strong."

I nodded with a small smile.

"Sounds good."

While the bartender prepared my drink, I glanced around.

Several people were already watching me. A man at a table across the room nodded along to whatever the woman beside him was saying, but his eyes stayed on me. Another man grinned when our gazes met.

I sighed.

The glass placed in front of me drew my attention away from them.

Small pieces of ice floated on the surface of the bluish drink. A thin slice of fruit sat on the rim. When I picked it up, a sweet, slightly tangy scent reached my nose.

Not bad at all.

I gently swirled the liquid and brought the glass to my lips.

Then I drank.

Or rather, I pretended to.

The moment the drink touched my mouth, I used Azure Flame. A tiny flame that lasted only an instant...

The liquid vanished, just as I’d hoped.

There was no visible fire, no flames rising toward my face, and no explosion that would force the bartender to douse me with water.

I lowered the glass and slowly breathed out.

Good.

At least this part of the plan was working.

I couldn’t afford to get drunk. I’d already thought through how long I would spend here, what I would drink, and how I would behave.

I’d even chosen where to sit.

According to my research, there was a seventy percent chance that Marven would be here around this time on this day of the week.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was better than sitting at home and waiting for him to die on his own.

I brought the glass toward my nose again.

Ahh... It really did smell good.

Destroying something like this without even tasting it felt a little unfair.

Whatever.

I was definitely having one on my birthday!

"Sweetheart, are you here alone?"

My hand stopped.

Sweetheart?

I turned toward the man who had taken the stool beside me. A thick chain showed beneath his open collar, and he smiled confidently as he turned the bottle in his hand.

He wasn’t Marven.

Which meant I had no business with him.

"Why don’t you crawl back into your mother’s hole before I shove that bottle up your ass?"

His smile froze.

He said nothing for several seconds. Then his eyes dropped to the bottle in his hand.

As the color drained from his face, he cleared his throat.

"I think... I need to use the restroom."

He climbed off the stool.

"Sorry."

Then he turned and walked away.

I lowered my gaze to my drink again.

Acting like an innocent university student didn’t mean I had to put up with everyone who approached me.

I pretended to take another sip and turned to look out over the room.

That was when a man talking on his phone caught my attention.

He stood beside a pillar with his phone pressed to his ear, but his gaze kept returning to me. When our eyes met, he turned his head slightly away.

Bingo.

I knew that face.

He was one of the people I’d seen around Marven during my research. I’d also seen photos of the bartender and some of the servers here with Marven. I even recognized a few of the girls moving between the tables.

He was probably telling him about me.

A red-haired girl visiting for the first time, sitting all alone...

The appearance I’d chosen to attract his attention must have been working.

Of course, he could have been talking about something completely unrelated.

But I was sure he wasn’t.

I set my glass on the counter and turned the other way, only to see Oswald.

The old man was watching me from a few steps away, his hands clasped behind his back. Even amid the crowd and noise, he looked perfectly calm.

The proud expression on his face, however, was testing my patience.

He looked at me as though I were doing something noble and honorable. As though I were about to march out and save my kingdom.

Meanwhile, I was sitting on a stool, waiting for a disgusting man to notice me.

Stop looking at me like that, old man.

I frowned slightly.

When Oswald met my gaze, he nodded in satisfaction.

I closed my eyes.

If there hadn’t been people around, I would have had a few things to say to him. But turning toward empty air and arguing with an old man wouldn’t exactly help the image I was trying to maintain.

When the bartender glanced at my empty glass, I raised my hand slightly and asked for another.

I could wait.

After all, patience was the foundation of my plan.

---

An hour later, I had finished my seventh glass.

And realized that I hated waiting.

I set the glass on the counter and checked my phone again. Only three minutes had passed since the last time I’d looked.

I’d turned down three creeps who had approached me. I’d noticed the same song playing again, learned that the laughter from one table always came from the same person, and even begun memorizing the order in which the bartender arranged his bottles.

But Marven was still nowhere to be seen.

Still!

Where was that son of a bitch?

Seventy percent...

That remaining thirty percent was really getting on my nerves.

How much longer would I have to play the sweet, innocent college girl?

I looked at the last piece of ice in my glass. For a moment, I wanted to burn that away too, but it wouldn’t do me any good.

I climbed off the stool in irritation.

I needed some quiet. At least a few minutes somewhere nobody was staring at me.

I found the sign pointing toward the restrooms and headed that way.

The hem of my dress brushed against my leg as I moved through the crowd. After slipping between two people standing in my way, I reached the hallway, where the music grew a little quieter.

Finally.

I found the men’s room and pushed the door open.

I was just taking my first step inside when—

Thud.

My nose hit something hard.

"Ugh!"

I brought a hand to my nose and stepped back.

"Watch where you’re going, fuckface!"

The insult had slipped out before I could think about what I was saying.

"Fuckface?"

The voice in front of me didn’t sound angry.

If anything, it sounded amused.

I raised my head.

First, I saw his dark, expensive-looking shirt. Then the silver chain above its open collar, his well-defined jaw, and the few locks of dark brown hair falling across his face...

He looked to be in his twenties. His hair had been slicked back, though a few strands had come loose. His honey-colored eyes moved over my face as the corners of his lips lifted.

He wore the expression of someone who had stumbled upon something unexpectedly entertaining.

My hand was still covering my nose.

The man smiled.

"Sorry," he said. "But this is the men’s room."

My lips parted slightly.

This man...

Marven!