Magical Journey: The Other Shore Blooms on the Other Shore

“In the Federal Republic of Pierre Merchants, you can buy anything if you’re willing to spend the money.” A bartender was wiping glasses, his gaze not even falling on the visiting guests.

"Is anything acceptable?" the guest asked.

"Of course, it's just a matter of price," the bartender said dismissively. "For example, if you wanted to buy my life, you only needed to pay my master one hundred gold coins. Pretty cheap, right?"

He casually stated that he was only worth one hundred gold coins.

Although 100 gold coins is quite expensive, spending 100 gold coins just to save the life of a minor character is something only a fool would do.

But the fact that life can be measured in gold coins is already awe-inspiring enough.

“I want to buy a clue,” the customer said, “a clue about…a person.”

“Alright, so that’s your reason for wanting to see my master.” The bartender looked formally at the new guest. “Miss Witch, how much are you offering?”

The so-called guest was, of course, Elena.

Just then, another customer pushed open the door and entered the pub: "Some rum, please."

"Coming right away, master," the bartender said briskly.

His master...

Irene turned around and saw the person she wanted to see sitting at the table.

“This beautiful lady is very lucky to meet you here,” Frank said with a smile to Elena. “Would you like to have a drink with me? What would you like to drink?”

Coincidence?

How could it be such a coincidence?

Without a doubt, there is only one conclusion.

Elena sat down opposite Frank: "You've been following me..."

“It seems you prefer a direct approach to conversation, and I do too. Dealing with those pretentious, cryptic old guys is exhausting.” Frank took the rum the bartender handed him. “Miss Elena, it wouldn’t be considered stalking, but I have indeed gathered a lot of information about you. You know, I’m a businesswoman.”

Ignoring Elena's slightly annoyed gaze, Frank continued, "If you want to buy information from me, you've come to the right person—to put it bluntly, I'm the number one information broker in this place. No information of any value in this kingdom escapes my notice."

I have indeed heard about this.

That's why Elena wanted to find Frank.

In addition, there was another reason: he had indeed seen Qin before, and had met her briefly at the entrance of the skyscraper.

He might know Qin, while others don't even have that possibility.

Therefore, if she wanted to buy information about the zither, the quickest and most effective way was to buy it from such an information broker. After all, this kingdom was teeming with spies who worked for people like him.

Even if she were a witch, relying on her limited power, obtaining news of Qin in this vast country would be as difficult as ascending to heaven.

“I don’t think my information is very valuable,” Elena said.

“Ah ha, Miss Elena, you’re quite the joker. To show my sincerity, I can give you a piece of information for free. I’ve sold countless copies of your information, earning hundreds of gold coins in total,” Frank laughed. “But customers come first, so I can’t tell you who bought your information.”

Is it because he needs something from him that he so blatantly expresses his extraordinary abilities...?

Forget it.

“You know, some of those people aren’t exactly benevolent. Many of them are just looking for a one-night stand with you, so your habits and such are quite valuable,” Frank added. “So, Miss Elena, as your friend, I advise you to be careful when you walk alone at night. Even if you’re a witch, there are many things here that you can’t guard against.”

“I’m getting off-topic, Miss Elena. What information do you want to buy from me?” Frank smiled and took a sip of rum.

"Didn't you guess that?"

"Hmm, so it's about your male companion's whereabouts, isn't it?" Frank said. "You got separated from him? Because your information is valuable, I do have people watching him all the time. As you guessed, I smelled the money and came here. Meeting you is not a coincidence, it's inevitable."

“Enough with the nonsense,” Elena said. “Name your price.”

“Twenty gold coins,” Frank said with a smile.

Tsk, all merchants are cunning, and their words are often a mix of truth and falsehood, making it difficult to distinguish between them.

“This is still a friend’s price. If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t bother to come here just to earn twenty gold coins.” Frank tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table. “As a bonus, I’ll not only tell you where he is now, but I’ll also tell you what he’s been through.”

“Here are ten gold coins. The information is correct. I will pay the full amount.” Elena took out a money bag.

Frank calmly accepted the money: "I'll only say this once, so listen carefully."

……

The information was unexpected; we thought he was preoccupied with some external matters, which was why we hadn't heard from him at all.

But it was also expected—besides himself, what other enemies could he possibly encounter?

Why do I care so much about this guy's life or death? He was already on the verge of death, and then he suddenly disappeared and I even spent twenty gold coins to find out what he went through.

I'm so kind.

Sometimes I think I'm being too kind, but compared to that sick guy, my so-called kindness is nothing.

I knew about his uncorrectable and morbid values ​​all along.

But the day his faith collapsed came sooner than he had imagined, at least sooner than the moment she figured out how to pull him out of that shadow.

We still need to keep an eye on him.

What a nuisance! But if I don't do anything about it, maybe no one else will.

"It's raining..." Rain started falling as soon as Elena stepped outside.

It's really unlucky that I have to go out in such awful weather.

Elena opened her umbrella and walked away in a certain direction without saying a word or looking back.

In that abandoned corner, she saw the man slumped to one side like a completely drunkard. He seemed utterly unaware of her approaching.

If it were the old him, he would know who was approaching even without being on guard.

So, what should I do?

I don't know, I just rushed over without thinking about anything.

Or should I say something?

Before knowing why he lived the way he did, I might have been able to utter a few self-righteous, hypocritical lines, but after knowing the root of his suffering, I feel that any comfort is pale and powerless.

What reason do you have to stop someone who wants to die?

What is called obstruction is also a form of persecution.

So, in the end, all I can do is approach him silently, like this, and hold up an umbrella for his real-world situation.

After that, he silently watched the lost child.