Episode 7
Enoch noticed right away that she’d completely lost it. He checked her state, then started getting to the point — he’d been enjoying watching how far she’d fall into embarrassment, but Jerel’s glare was getting sharp.
“You know, pretty. The morning after the other day, I was pretty hurt.”
“Hurt…?” Rania asked. Another refill slid into her cup, and she drank it automatically, puzzled.
“You really don’t know? Sad. Of course, I was upset — our pretty girl vanished without a word.”
“Oh…”
Enoch sounded genuinely upset, and Rania was clueless about what to do. Jerel, shaking his head, finally took a sip himself. Rania’s face crumpled, and she looked like she might cry. “I’m sorry. I was so shocked. I shouldn’t have run off…” she apologized, almost in tears.
“Yeah, it’s fine. People make mistakes. Don’t cry — drink more.”
Saying that with a voice like a cold-blooded person who’d toss a knife at a worker for slipping wasn’t exactly calming.
The guild members who’d been hiding nearby shuddered with goosebumps. Enoch glared at them sharply, then kept topping up Rania’s cup.
Rania’s eyes and cheeks were flushed; she no longer felt pure fear — or at least the fear was mixed with the feeling that he was a good person. He’d barged in like a threat and then handled Robel for her. He didn’t scold her for running off; he kept giving her expensive booze. He even offered comforting words like “it happens,” while pouring more liquor.
When she first saw Enoch, she’d briefly thought she might lose her life, so her expectations were already rock-bottom. Because of that, she accepted his suspicious kindness completely, honestly murmuring, “You… you’re so kind…”
At that, Jerel — who’d been sipping slowly — spat his drink out. The guild members behind the counter went even paler and stared at Rania like she was insane. Even Enoch looked a little uncomfortable, but Rania’s vision was blurry; she didn’t notice any of it.
Then Enoch smiled bright and shamelessly said, “No, pretty — I’m only kind to you.”
“Don’t be so flirtatious.”
“I’m not flirting.”
“Ugh…”
Jerel, who’d had enough, wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and stood up. He could’ve used the time to do one more paper, honestly. Enoch stopped him and said, “Hey Jerel, get more wine.”
“…”
“Hurry. Keep pouring so our pretty girl doesn’t stop drinking.”
The phrase made Rania pause mid-fan — was there any sweeter thing to hear? Her parents had never doted on her like that. Hearing it from Enoch, she didn’t even care anymore that he was the master of the Night’s Eye.
“You’re such a good person… I’m sorry!” she sniffled, clutching a bottle like it was precious and apologizing with tears.
Jerel clicked his tongue, watching her. He’d been uneasy ever since earlier — he felt a faint magical energy from Enoch. Looks like Enoch used a small magical tool. Items that affect the mind are banned in the empire, hard to make and obtain, and usually, powerful ones are rare. This one felt weak — maybe the lowest grade — like it would only lower someone’s guard a tiny bit, maybe from 100 down to 97. But such tools’ effects change with the user, and it was clearly working well on Rania. It was a deliberate choice — Enoch had used it.
Jerel didn’t know whether to be relieved or unnerved by how easily she’d loosened up.
Sensing she’d fully let go, Enoch spoke softly, “See? Aren’t you sorry? I brought you expensive wine and cleared that trash out earlier, but you just ran away. Aren’t you sorry?”
“Yes, yes. I’m sorry I ran. I was just so startled…” she said, voice trembling.
“Sure. But saying sorry doesn’t solve everything — that’s why there are guards and laws. I was really hurt.”
Saying that from someone who ignores laws like a wild dog was ironic — but Enoch didn’t care about laws, so he’d come here and intimidate civilians anyway.
Thanks to the booze and the magic tool, Rania looked like she might cry from guilt about what she’d done. She downed another drink and asked, “Really, I’m sorry. What can I do? Uh… a free pass to the café?”
“A free pass? That’s cute. But one free pass won’t fix my hurt heart.”
“Not one — um… not just one. I’ll give it for free every time you come!”
“Lifetime free isn’t bad. But pretty — I actually need something else more.”
“Yes, yes! Tell me! I’ll do anything!” Rania eagerly answered.
“Really? You’ll do anything? Thanks. Then, pretty, start by putting your fingerprint here.” Enoch reached out toward Jerel; a sheet of paper was passed over. It ended up in front of Rania. She blinked drowsily and read it.
“Huh… a job contract?”
“Yeah — an employment contract. Pretty, join our guild.”
“Work? I have my café. I’m not unemployed.”
“Well, this café fits perfectly. Let’s make it Branch No. 8, and you’ll be the branch manager.”
Branch No. 8. Branch manager. Employment. Rania, dazed, stared at Enoch and then at the mark on his neck — the guild emblem.
She shook her head. “No. It’s a bad guild.”
“It’s ‘bad’? You said you’d do anything for me.”
“But our customers… they’re old and fragile. They’ll be in danger. It’s risky.”
Her speech got thick, but she was serious. She cared about her customers; even drunk, she wasn’t about to betray that. They were mostly older people whose health was fragile, and Rania worried about them.
Jerel and even Enoch looked a bit awkward at her refusal. Rania, not noticing the hidden meaning in their looks, took another sip and continued, “My customers, they’re all… uncertain about tomorrow. I don’t know if they’ll be around next week.” The thought of them not returning made her sad. Winters bring sudden deaths, spring and autumn bring illness, and summer brings epidemics. If her customers were younger, she wouldn’t mind, but these worried her.
“They’re all older folks — if they see that face and it gives them a heart attack…” she muttered, resolute and shaking her head.
