* * *
The way his eyes narrowed, thin like a snake’s, sent a chill down my spine.
It was a gaze that felt as though it could see right through me.
His murky black eyes held a tint similar to gray—like ink diluted in clear water.
“Isn’t this Mr. Vinter? What brings you here?”
So it wasn’t my imagination—he really did recognize me.
The man removed the pipe from his mouth and took a step toward me.
The acrid smoke, now trailing behind him, dissipated as his figure blocked its path.
The lingering scent of burnt tobacco made me scrunch my nose slightly.
“I came to see someone named Alexander.”
“Alexander, you say.”
“Yes. Do you know him, by any chance?”
“Know him? Of course.”
The man let out a chuckle, as if finding my question amusing. His dark hair swayed slightly with the movement of his head.
Finally, he stopped right in front of me, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk.
Just moments ago, he had looked utterly exhausted, as though he was drowning in fatigue—but now, his eyes gleamed with a sudden liveliness, as if he had just found something intriguing.
“I am Alexander. What business do you have with me?”
“…Ah.”
So that’s how it was.
I stared at Alexander as he introduced himself with a chuckle.
Standing right in front of him, asking where I could find Alexander—it must have seemed quite funny from his perspective.
The embarrassment hit me all at once, making my ears burn.
“I… I’m sorry.”
“No need. It’s my fault for not introducing myself sooner. Now that we’re at it, let me do so properly. I’m Alexander, the editor-in-chief of Gazette. I doubt you’d be interested in my last name. I just stepped out for a break, so your timing is good.”
“Oh, um, I’m Isaac. You can call me Isa. And as you might already know, my last name is Winter. I don’t do anything particularly grand, but right now, I’m affiliated with the temple.”
“Isa, then.”
“Just Isa.”
“Understood. Isa, feel free to call me whatever you like as well.”
Alexander nodded agreeably, blinking once.
His gaze flickered briefly to the newspaper I was holding before returning to me.
“So, what brings you here? If the temple went so far as to send you looking for me, it must be quite the matter.”
“The Pope told me to seek you out, Alexander. That is—he specifically told me to find you.”
“Hm.”
“Besides, I know that Kaindel has some sort of separate contract with you.”
Alexander’s smile deepened, as if urging me to continue.
It wasn’t a particularly negative reaction, but it wasn’t exactly positive either.
His unreadable expression made me hesitate.
I had imagined what kind of person Alexander might be, given how often his name came up in conversation—but I hadn’t expected someone like this.
Someone so… inscrutable.
It made me uneasy.
If I said the wrong thing, I wouldn’t be the one gathering information—I’d end up having mine taken instead.
“I want to know what I don’t know.”
“If it’s something you don’t know…”
“All of it. What exactly is Kaindel’s plan? How far along is the princess’s plan? And—”
And what I’m supposed to do about Kaindel.
I swallowed the rest of my words.
Even I hadn’t yet made up my mind about that.
Letting Alexander see that uncertainty would only expose my weaknesses.
Alexander remained silent for a moment after hearing me out.
He stared into my eyes, unmoving, as if lost in deep thought.
Then, once he had finished his mental calculations, his gaze relaxed slightly as he finally spoke.
“Then, Isa, what will you offer me in exchange?”
“…What?”
“I’m a businessman, Isa. I have no desire to hand over what I know for nothing. I need to receive something in return, don’t I?”
“I…”
I trailed off and pressed my lips together. I had no immediate response.
Truthfully, this was only fair.
I couldn’t just expect to take whatever I wanted without giving anything in return.
But the problem was, I had no idea what I could offer Alexander that would satisfy him.
What would be good enough?
As I racked my brain, trying to think of something, Alexander tipped his pipe upside down and tapped out the burnt remains onto the ground.
“If you can’t think of anything, just tell me what kind of rum that man likes.”
“That man?”
“Yes. The one who used to call you ‘Smarty-pants.’ My colleague.”
Smarty-pants.
The moment I heard that familiar nickname, one particular person came to mind.
The man who had strange scars on both his ankles, the one who was said to be Ruen’s master.
He always had a bottle strapped to his waist, filled with rum, which he frequently offered to me.
But… why was Alexander asking about that?
Shouldn’t a friend already know?
And was that really all he wanted in return?
It seemed far too cheap a price for valuable information.
I hesitated, studying Alexander’s expression.
I had expected him to ask for something much bigger—perhaps a newsworthy scoop, something fit for publication.
But instead, he wanted something so trivial. It was unexpected.
Maybe noticing my doubt, Alexander simply shrugged.
“It’s something I really want to know.”
“……”
“I’ll be seeing him soon, and if I show up empty-handed, I doubt I’ll get a warm welcome. It’s been a while since we’ve met, after all. So just tell me. In return, I’ll tell you what you want to know.”
“…Alright.”
In the end, I suppressed my suspicions.
Even if I was curious about Alexander’s true motives, his offer was overwhelmingly in my favor.
There was no reason to refuse.
I decided not to concern myself further with whatever business he had with Ruen’s master.
“Well then.”
Alexander ground the last remnants of ash beneath his heel before flashing me another unreadable smile. His eyes, once again, gleamed with that mysterious light.
He was clearly someone skilled at masking his emotions.
“Shall we continue this conversation inside?”
“Yes.”
Alexander gestured toward the building with his now-empty pipe, silently asking for my consent.
I nodded, and as he turned toward the entrance, I followed after him.
The building’s interior was surprisingly neat, quite unlike its crumbling exterior.
While the outside looked as if it was on the verge of collapse, the inside was spacious and well-maintained.
The upper floors seemed unused, but the ground floor appeared to be a shared workspace for several people.
The walls were lined with bookshelves stacked high with countless books, and on the left side, a staircase led downward, likely to a basement.
Looking at it like this, it almost felt like a newspaper office. It was fascinating.
I was still taking in my surroundings with my mouth slightly open when Alexander, who had been patiently waiting for me to finish looking around, headed toward the stairs leading underground.
He turned his body slightly, as if to signal for me to follow.
“This way, please.”
“Oh, right.”
At his words, I quickly made my way past the people furiously typing on typewriters and approached Alexander’s side.
As soon as I got close, he picked up his pace, as if there was no time to waste.
The staircase leading down was long.
Small gas lamps flickered dimly on either side, but they weren’t enough to push back the heavy darkness.
It felt as if the shadows were clinging to my feet with every step.
Carefully making my way down, I finally arrived at the basement, where another space unfolded before me.
* * *
