Chapter 105: Petty Crime

My sandwich cost another two Gilt, well worth it in my opinion, as it put the hardtack biscuit I had for breakfast to shame. The price was extortionate, admittedly, as I’d paid the equivalent of a room for the night for a slice of roast beef, two pieces of bread, and mustard straight from the vine; much like in London, the West End boasted the highest prices in the city. Still worth it, since it let me eat as I walked, leaving the crowded carvery behind with 27 Gilt to my name; giving me a lot more options now that the lunch rush was ending and the crowd slowly dispersed, trickling back to their offices recharged and ready to work hard until the end of the day.

There was some risk in committing such crimes in plain view, but I’d gone in with the expectation that anybody capable of catching me in the act had more important things to worry about at present, which seemed to have paid off, as nobody followed me out to arrest me or try to break my leg for stealing from them. Harvey’s map hadn’t been very specific, listing only the parts of the city without giving much thought to details, and I couldn’t find a public information booth, and there wasn’t a single tour guide in sight. I suppose I could have asked the locals for directions, but that would give rise to questions like ‘Who are you?’ or ‘Where did you come from?’ that I couldn’t be bothered dealing with. No, I decided, it was much better to find my own way, and let fate take the wheel.

Many had often expressed surprise when I voiced such opinions in the past, struggling to reconcile my image as an agnostic and rational person with a belief in concepts such as luck. I simply pointed those fools to the long list of brokers and businessmen who made their fortunes with a single well-timed transaction, and the much longer list of those ruined by the fickle whims of the market. Luck had its place in the world, whether at the boardroom or the battlefield; only the fool denied its importance, while wiser men hedged their bets at all times, precisely to mitigate the worst possible outcomes as the wheel turned. So, I just kept walking, skipping over the many restaurants, pubs and cafes now that my stomach was full, along with the services that didn’t quite align with my current needs, like the barbers, hosiers and the occasional dentist, until I found something actually helpful.

“Vermina, Sorceress Supreme?” Pumpkin read aloud, the first as always to give voice to his doubts.

Not that I didn’t share them, because the garish purple and yellow sign, complete with a landscape of a woman posing in what could only generously be described as clothing, did little to portray the image of a powerful spellcaster worthy of such a grandiose title. The oversized wizard hat didn’t help either; all told, the entire spectacle looked like something out of a B-list porno from the seventies. I could also hear the doctor introducing the scene in my mind; something many such films shot back then, since recordings made for medical education were exempted from many of the restrictions imposed by the censors of the day. I’d never spared much time for such matters, so it was only morbid curiosity that made me reach for the door.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

[Access denied.

Wrong Class.]

Annoyingly, the door opened just fine; it was only when I tried to enter that I took an invisible barrier straight to the nose, and couldn’t make it any further past the threshold. In fact, I couldn’t even see past it; the entire inside of the shop stubbornly refused to stick in my mind now matter how hard I tried to recall it. While that proved the owner did in fact have some magic to her name, it also left me rather annoyed.

[Blackened Bracelet stored.]

I put the bracelet away, thinking that the concealment function might have been the cause of the restriction, but it didn’t help in the slightest. To add insult to injury, Pumpkin jumped off of my head and made it inside without any trouble at all.

“Are you coming?” The smug feline asked, though I was certain he knew I’d been held at the door; he knew momentum well enough to see that I hadn’t stopped voluntarily.

“I can’t. Can you see if there’s anybody inside?”

“Nope, it’s just a broom closet; literally, there’s nothing but brooms in here, several dozen of them in fact.”

Now, I was far from an expert in reading the thoughts of a sorceress, but considering she could have easily kept us out entirely, but instead barred my path while letting Pumpkin into the most menial room of any building? Well, the entire setup screamed of calculated passive aggression; the kind that suggested we were only fit to the floor for her, or something of the sort.

“Alright, if that’s how you want to play it.”

[24 pears withdrawn.]

I wasn’t able to get inside, but I had no problem rolling an armful of fruit past the barrier, drawing a soft gasp from Pumpkin.

“Eat up,” I said with a smile, and immediately heard the gluttonous feline dig in, once I’d confirmed I hadn’t dropped them by mistake.

Pumpkin was the very definition of a food-motivated cat; when offered a chance to indulge, he took it without any thought as to the long term consequences. In that respect, he greatly resembled many in the Finance industry. Accordingly, it didn’t take long for him to gorge his way through two dozen pears, and it didn’t take long after that for him to do his business, right there in the broom closet. I stepped aside at that point, electing to spare my nose, and he emerged soon after, kicking the door closed behind him with an air of smug satisfaction. Was this illegal? Possibly. But while it would annoy anyone who found the mess, it shouldn’t take too long to clean, putting it in the annoying prank category rather than something they’d be motivated to chase me down for. Still not the smartest thing to do, I can readily admit, but I made it a habit to treat others with the same amount of respect they gave me, so it was only fair.