Published at 12th of August 2024 7:33 am

Chapter 97 Same Strategy

This chapter is updated by JustRead.pl

Even in the days of winter the Merchant’s District never ceased to amaze Elmer with the amount of soot it emitted from the smokestacks of its factories.

The sky was constantly crying, but the exhausts and chimneys never heeded. It was even beginning to feel as though this district was a completely different city in its entirety. A good chunk of the snow falling here wasn't white, they were black.

The factories really took their exploits to another level.

I wonder why Chronos hasn’t come down yet to strike this District… Does he enjoy the smell of smoke…? Well, I wouldn’t put it past any being with the title ‘God’…

Elmer wrapped the double-sized paper bag of purchased foodstuffs with his left arm as he walked through the crowded streets of Market Quarter, a region in the Merchant’s District designated only to the buying and selling of foodstuffs and the like.

This area had a strict rule against carriages and steam cars coming through it, and Elmer could see why. It was because of the vast number of people that roamed it, insinuating that accidents would occur if such a thing was to be allowed. They were quite the lot, almost to an extent that the crowdedness in this area could rival that of the Black Market.

Well, they were both markets after all, just for different sorts of items.

But because of the number of people here the rate of crime in this area was also at a high level.

It was mostly thieving and the sort, but sometimes conflicts broke out and one or two people would get injured or die. There were those who weren’t scared of stabbing someone to death in broad daylight.

Madness it was, pure madness.

It was not like Elmer had come across such people though, all he knew he had heard in between his purchases from the young ladies and old women who’d left their homes to gossip in the marketplace.

Every time he came to the market, everywhere he went, every shop, there were such kinds there. It was almost like it was some sort of ritual. ‘The market was a better place to discuss than in the comfort of our homes’.

He wondered how they did it sometimes, dressing elegantly and leaving their places of leisure to come under the harsh weather of either cold or sun, or whatever was above Ur at the time, and discuss whatever they’d had pent up in themselves during the week.

Wouldn’t such engagements fare better while being seated on a plush cushion and drinking coffee or tea?

Sure, they were in the area to purchase foodstuffs, but Elmer had slowly begun to doubt that after he’d entered countless shops and left even before the ladies who had started their buyings before him.

The purchasing of items was most likely the second of the reasons they had left their homes—the gossiping taking the cake in that. But it was not like it was his place to tell people what and what not to do after all.

Although, he was grateful for the discussions that took place. It was because he had come across them on his first day in this biggest part of the market that he had known about the high alert which was accredited to this place. And also the increased number of policemen that were positioned in discrete positions. Due to that information, he was conscious of which places in the Market Quarter to avoid.

Who knew? The Ascender that had taken on the job of hunting him might actually be a policeman and be waiting to ambush him here, knowing he would have no choice but to purchase items for cooking and daily living.

Kate was not the only person who had knowledge of his looks. And considering that his former address was at the bureau it was possible that Polly had already been paid a visit by the Ascender. That meant his facial features were in the hands of the one seeking him by now, and his postiche would only be able to hide his face so much in that instance. Therefore, he himself had to be on high alert as well.

He was taking no chances.

Finally, Elmer arrived before the doorway of the shop he had been seeking. ‘Henry’s Fresh Bread’.

Anytime he came here the words lettered on the shop windows and wooden marquee always reminded him of Hank’s bakery up at the North-East Borough. But no one had to tell him that such a place of familiarity was off limits. For one, Lev was there, and for the second, Hank was there. Two people who knew him. He could not take it off the board that maybe they too had been visited by the Ascender seeking him out.

No, thanks…

Elmer shook his head and pushed the bread shop’s door open, allowing the steamy smell of flour mixed in with sugar, and baked to a satiable degree to form bread, to waft gently into his nose.

Since this shop did not make their breads like Hanky did, the smell of unkneaded dough was not present in the air, and as well the other forms of pastries that Hanky used to make.

‘Henry’s Fresh Bread’ was just a shop selling the products made by the biggest bread factory in Ur, which was owned by Baron Orsted Cleavenger, a nobleman who was also the number one in the chocolate production business.

Elmer had done a little bit of findings on the man while he had been working on his fourth job regarding the sexual assault of Egor Mason on Elia Brentford. But since the man, who was a very high figure in both Ur and Fitzroy—considering he owned the most estates in the suburbs of Ur, and was also a crossbencher in the House of Lords—was not the essence of his job at the time, Elmer had cut off his researches on him as soon as he’d gotten what he’d wanted on the late Egor Mason.

The jingles of the shop bell died down as the lite door shut behind him, even though soon after it rang again, but that time Elmer was already well within the rowdiness of the shop.

At least the smell here was pleasant, unlike that of the ingredients shop at the Black Market. And it was because of that Elmer was able to take his time waiting his turn until he’d purchased just enough bread that would last him, Mary, and his arriving guest for two weeks.

Soup and stew was all Mabel needed, he did not want to risk choking his sister on cob.

As Elmer turned around to take his leave, he suddenly halted his steps in the midst of the noisy crowd filling the room, as a feeling of familiarity for a boy that had passed beside him hit his senses.

He tilted his head sideways and pinched his lips in some sort of forceful recollection. But when he couldn’t put a finger on what exactly it was, he turned around to face the direction of the serving counter, and looked for the boy that had passed beside him.

It took not long before he saw the person he was searching for.

The boy was dressed familiarly in an oversized roughly patched jacket of brown, and a grubby flat cap that was unable to fully hide the dirty blonde hair he had.

The boy had far outgrown the cap already, but that was not what made Elmer’s eyes widen at the moment; it was realization.

He knew who the boy was. It was Bread-boy! And now aware of that, he instantly discerned what was about to occur.

Elmer heaved out an exhale and transferred the bag of bread in his right hand to his left, comfortably holding both it and the other large paper bag of previously bought items he was wielding.

He joined back in the line, waiting patiently, and when it was the bread-boy’s turn to purchase bread, he silently moved out of his line and waddled toward the back of the boy amidst the grumbles and shouts for him to get back in line.

But before he could get there, due to the other customers constantly getting in his way and him having to take a moment to explain his reasons, the bread-boy snatched the piece of bread he was supposed to pay for and attempted to make a break for it.

“Oy! Thief! Stop that thief!” the bearish seller on the other side of the counter bellowed, and Elmer did the honor before anyone else could.

Using just a tiny bit of his enhanced speed, he swerved to the bread-boy’s view, halting him at once. Although, he was not here to enforce the law.

“Pardon him,” Elmer said with a laugh as the ruckus in the shop lowered a tad. He bent down before the startled and panic-striken bread boy and placed his right hand on his shoulder. “He was coming to show me the bread. I told him to pick one and I’ll pay for it.” He turned his eyes to the bread-boy, and, recalling that the boy was deaf, he made some gestures with his brows, hoping that the boy would understand, while handing him two pence.

Luckily, he did.

Bread-boy turned to face the counter, now somewhat relieved of his tension, and bowed in apology, his voice unheard. After which he proceeded to pay the fee of his bread as Elmer stood up.

With that settled, the seller cleared his throat and the shop’s rowdiness resumed as he began to answer his customers once again.

Upon arriving outside the shop, bread-boy instantly bowed in thanks to Elmer before scurrying away, swerving through the crowded marketplace with his small, nimble body, and vanishing.

Seems like the postiche is working well… He doesn’t remember me…

Elmer smiled then took himself to the thoroughfare at the end of Market Quarter where he boarded a mildly filled public carriage back to High street at the Red-Brick District.

…

No one needed to tell him as soon as he arrived on his porch past the small lawn edgings flanking the herringbone walk path bestowed to his home. The nostalgic and cheery voice he was hearing pour out from within his house was none other than that of the guest he’d been expecting.

Elmer could not hold back his smile and excitement as he quickly pushed open the door, took off his shoes at the entrance, and rushed through the simple partition to his left into the living room.

There, seated on one of the cushions surrounding the coffee table bestowed to the parlor, was a young man seemingly no older than the age of a teenager. He had black curly hair shaved at the sides with short fringe bangs. On his well-shaped face were freckles, and most of all a flirty demeanor, one which was targeted at the young Mary Thatcher who was serving him a cup of white coffee dominated by milk.

Elmer saw no surprise in that, instead his expression beamed further, so much that he’d almost forgotten his eyes had thick bags beneath them.

“Pip Willows!” Elmer hooted, and the young man on the cushion turned to finally take notice of him. He was of an incredulous look for a moment, before he, as well, suddenly beamed, his blue eyes becoming ever so evident. Elmer added then, “You’ve arrived, you naughty monkey!”

Share