:: Dear Diary... I wonder what should I get. I need to prepare for a long journy to another countryside to carry out the request forth Lycan Cheiftain, so I need to become prepared. I heard the Rogue Vampire Territory would be dark places, so they could thrive more freely in the night earlier than most other open spaced lands. I wonder, if I shoud just fill my inventory with nothing but nagic lanterns and start to weaponize glow sticks... but then again, even the cheapest ones are super expense. Sigh, looks like the road in finally building a big fancy house for my family and Nello, is getting further and further away... ::

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"M-Miss Elf. You have my attention. Is there any reason why you had to snag my Constable Hat to just so we coud talk in private?"

"Information! I'm willing to pay you good money to tell me any background you have on these Wild Vampires that are involved in beastfolk and extraspecies trafficking. Surely the Royal Constabulary has a grand enough intelligence network to know every nook and cranny in the Underworld right?"

"... You do realize I could arrest you on terms of bribing an officer of the law right?"

"I see now. So this is how our relationship will begin huh? Very well, please add 'Assaulting an Officer' to the charges, I'm going to pull on your ear until it bleeds."

"..... F...forget what I said. Ahem."

Pastrache was in a hurry. No, it wasn't because she had to use the ladies room, for some reason she already went three times after fixing her character sheet back at the Adventuring Guild.

But she looked antsy as she was practically jogging on the spot, ready to go off harder than an Insane Bolt.

All the while she was jog-hopping in front of a certain Constable.

"To be clear, young lady, it's the Criminal Underworld you'd be referring. We obviously have no authority what goes in Lord Hades' realm, mind you, with all the lost dead souls and... Although... if the Constable did partake in ongoing investigations in the occult, would we still call it Criminal Criminal Underworld, or something else? Hmm... Sounds confusing."

"Mr. Officer. Please pay attention. I'm on a tight schedule. I want to finish this exchange quickly, so I make it to the super sales in the market. Rations are expensive, I need to refill my inventory on the lowest possible budget!"

"L-like I said, young lady, I'm not a special agent that works undercover. I'm just a normal Constable who works on minimum wages. I've just joined the Force for a year, I don't even have my long-term benefits yet. Please don't cause too much trouble for me!"

The Half-Elf let out an audible groan. She believed it was a legitimate psychological tactic in order to persuade the Royal Constable to see things her way, maybe even sympathize. It was exactly like how an interrogator would say nothing and let the silence weigh heavily on the person he was interrogating.

It made it easier for the suspect to tell you everything, just to fill up that empty void.

To Pastrache's dismay, the Constable wasn't buying into that sociological trap.

"Listen, miss, I completely understand you want to go out of your way to help the Constabulary in dealing with matters we're short-handed to deal with. However, this is your safety on the line and we can't be there to protect you."

"I'm aware of that. Hence why I'm investing only 30 minutes to get the necessary information from your pockets and leave. I have Nello who is a Level 50 Tank transmigrated from another world. We'll survive one way or another."

"... What's a tank?"

"You know. This big humoungus... thing that's this big, and this tall. Super heavy with lots of stuff on his body. Then, then he has this super long, thing that can shoot stuff in any direction he wants."

".........M...Miss, please don't hold up your hands like that... the women around us are staring."

"Lewd."

"Y-you're the one who's making the obscene signals! I could have you arrested for just doing that!"

The Constable swallowed his dry throat and had no choice but to forcefully grab Pastrache's hand and shove them down below her shoulder height. The last thing he want was others to mistaken that he soliciting someone... when his duty was to catch those who were 'soliciting'.

"...Let go of my hands or I'll scream rape."

"S-sorry. J-just, don't wave your hands out of context."

"Listen, Mr. Constable sir. I know you don't want trouble from Vampires coming at you in vengeance. I won't mention you name. That way, you can peacefully carry on your job and raise your 59 wives."

"59 little sisters. All of them are serving the Convent."

"Yes, yes, yes. You love them like a harem, but let's get back to the serious matter. Where are these blood-sucking b@stards?"

"Sssssh! N-not so loud! It's tourist season and everyone is here to see the new production starring that popular Vampire actress. We don't have enough men on shifts to handle a rioting mob!"

The situation felt like it was getting out of hand. However, the Constable had every ounce of confidence he could negotiate something out from the serious Half-Elf and would be able to return to his duties in rounding up drunkards and men walking around with nothing but a long coat. 

"..........................................CONSTABLE BRU--"

"G-GET OVER HERE! YOU LITTLE MISCREANT!"

In the end, he had to use necessary force to drag the noisy Half-Elf somewhere else and away from onlooking eyes. He was able to bring to stand next to this run-down saloon that was noiser than a college student's apartment. If it wasn't the loud bar music going on, it definitely was all the hollering and hooting of men throwing fists at each other.

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Sometimes, an empty bottle or a barrel would fly through the window and landed next to Pastrache's feet.

"... Don't you need to deal with that."

"In a minute. Right after I've taken care of your problem."

"Am I the problem?"

"Miss. I want to help, but I'm on the bottom of the totem pole in the Constabulary. I'm Third Class. I don't even get a chance to work with the Detective in ongoing invesitgations. I could only keep curious people away from the crime scene or beat up thugs to bring in for questioning. I don't have access to sensitive information that you're looking for."

"...................................................Sorry. I think I was being stupid again."

"Well you do seemed to be troubled. Would you like to share with me?"

"........................................................................"

"Constable's Honor, I won't tell another soul."

"............................................................................"

"... Scout's honor?"

"It'll do."

Letting out a long and tired sigh, the Half-Elf walked away from the window, in time to avoid a man being chucked right out of it. The person who was thrown out rolled across the street, his face cracked with blood and bruises, only to roll back up and dive back through the window to throw a punch.

Too deep in thought, Pastrache just sat on top of a clean looking ale barrel on the road outside and rested her back against the wall. All the while, the Constable took off his hat to listen to the troubled maiden.

"... I want to get this job over with?"

"This ordeal about renegade Vampires."

"Yeah. I thought if I hurry and finish this mission request, I won't feel any form of regret in beating up Vampires that I once admired as a child... I'm too slow. It hasn't been a day and I'm getting butterflies. It's worse than that time back in school when I was forced to sing Coca Cobana in front of everyone."

"... What happened then?"

"Some b*tch in third grade undid my skirt and everyone saw my strawberry panties... that's all they talked about for the next 10 years."

"... Oh my."

Feeling the information weighing heavily on his own shoulder, the Constable ended up sitting on a crate next to Pastrache. There was a barrel right next to her, but it was in front of a window that kept launching out iron pots, bottles, and the occassional drunkards out the sill.

No need to spoil the mood and get bowled over by them.

"You know, you sound an awful lot like me when I first started being a Constable."

"How so?"

"There's a lot of Undead citizens moving in out city... as you may now we're forced to abandon many churchs or move them far away, so support and donations have dwindled to religious factions... My 59 little sisters who took me in when I was lost all treated me like family. But I have no schooling, so the only job I could take was being a Constable."

"... I see. So you're not like those little boys who dream of becoming a healer, water mager rescue, or even a law enforcer."

"No... I did it for the paycheque."

Maybe feeling some sense of pity, Pastrache held out her hand to the Constable. Automatically, he slapped a hand into her palm as if to conduct a low-tone high-five.

"The first week was h*ll... I thought that if I just bury myself with work, I won't have to worry about slipping up, or dealing with dangerous folk."

".............."

"But like you mentioned, I'm too slow too. Days felt like months, weeks moved like years... Every day has been a struggle for me to just do my job and put aside my personal feelings... There were many times where I thought about quitting."

"... Yet you've worked your way up from a Recruit to Third Class, that means something."

"Oh no. We all start at Third Class. First Class is the highest, then the sergeants, the majors, and hopefully Detective and Inspector."

"... Ah...Sorry."

"It's alright... You know, young lady. You should feel fortunate."

"H-how so?"

"Well, you're an Adventurer. I mean, not only do you have better pay and benefits but there aren't that many regulations that restrict you from how you perform your duties. Look at me. If I so much as use too much force or hassle a citizen too much, I get complaints, I could be under internal investigation, not to mention all the paper work. You don't have to worry about that."

Pastrache thought she should say something... but when her gut told her to shut up and listen, she obeyed. Deep down, she knew she had no right to complain or retort. 

Everyone in this world had a role, a guideline... a responsibility.

Whether they be a Royal Constable or Adventurer.

"... So, Mr. Officer. What will you do?"

"You can call me George. I don't mind."

"... George...What do you plan on doing?"

"Well I'm not going to quit, that's for sure. There's barely any other jobs available out there. Construction work might do, but then again, once you finish with the building... who can gaurantee someone needs another being raised."

"Yeah... the problem of work and the cr*pload of politics that come with it."

"... So if you ask for my advice I just say........Hakuna Matata."

"......The f**k what?"

"Hakuna Matata... I think it's Skidovian for 'Whatever happens, happens, just suck it up and be a man'."

"......Sexist."

"Or woman... which ever works."

The Half-Elf and Constable let out a small sigh. But it wasn't too depressing. It wasn't long enough to feel that they had hit a dead end and were not able to escape. A sense of hope was well hinted in their exhales.

".............................I think I know what to do now?"

"What would that be?"

"Seek professional counselling."

"Sorry, I tried. The Priest who my little sisters work with told me I wouldn't cut out for spreading the good word. I guess I should focus on converting criminals with billy clubs and prison cells."

"... But thanks for the talk, Mr. Const...George...... Somehow, hearing you ramble makes me feel better."

"......You're welcome?"

The Constable watched as the Half-Elf hopped off her barrel to brush the wrinkles out of her short pants and vest. She started to walk away, in time to have another window break open and half of a sawed table flung out with a series of throwing knives stuck under the table like gum.

"Oh and Miss. About that information you want---"

"Yes, yes, yes. I know you can't access intimate files on my behalf. No need to act like a broken---"

"One of my little sisters may help."

"---Record....Oh?"

Pastrache stopped in mid-step and turned around. By the time she looked at the Constable, he was already on his feet and setting his Pith Helmet with the Silver Leaf badge back onto his head.

"Y-yeah. Sister Pearl, she used to be in the whole underground intelligence network before she retired as a nun. I guess she still has some connections if you talk to her."

"How much for the information?"

"Oh she's washed her hand from all that business, so she won't take your money. Give her two bottles of Iron Scotch and she will definitely tell you whatever you want... Just, don't say I told you that."

"... R...right... Thank you... Sister Garnet, right?... Or was it Amethyst you said?"

"No, it's Sister Pearl you want the location. Sister Garnet works as a blacksmith for the church and the local Paladins seek her out for holy enchanting, who by the way makes the best blessed armory in my opinion. And Sister Amethyst likes to run a small store selling holy water and other religious artifcats for the minority of religious converts and----"

"How do I bribe them?"

"..................A 'Well My Lover' Chocolate Set for Sister Garnet. And Kiwi Short Cake for Amethyst. You throw in a bread and cheese basket, they'll give you a considerable discount."

"O-oh my goddess, I love you George!"

".......I...I wasn't... ready for that... Oh dear, is my heart pounding!?"

Morale of the story: bribe people with sweets and wine.

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