Published: August 30th 2024, 1:39:16 am
Glopfinger - Part 1/2
I wondered how many parties the nobles usually held. Since the feast, I had been jumping from one celebration to the next nonstop, to the point that they became mixed in my mind like a single continuous blur. The latest festivity was about some holiday I had never heard of, over some historical event I never knew happened.
“What is this party all about again?” I asked.
“No clue,” she replied.
More proof that this whole party was a made-up holiday.
Elincia was wearing a close-fitting black high-slit dress—the contrast of her fair skin against the silky, dark fabric was tailoring perfection. Ginz and Nasiah had complained especially loudly about Elincia’s choice, but she had become enamored with the design as soon as she saw it. Our initial plan was to introduce a new fashion style to the high spheres of the kingdom, so Ginz forced me to use my [Minor Illusion] to show him the dresses of my homeland. Thankfully, [Awareness] had a precise catalog of every dress I have seen, including those from fantasy and sci-fi movies.
Ginz wanted Senator Amidala’s red and gold dress, and Elincia wanted the high-slit black dress, so they compromised, and Ginz sewed the black dress.
I was wearing a white suit with a black bowtie, with a single red flower pinned to my left lapel. It made me stand out, but not as much as Elincia did. Black and white weren’t the colors nobles used. Not even the Osgirians, whose coat of arms was a white tower against a black background. For me, we looked like a normal couple dressed to the nines, save for Elincia’s elven traits, but to the rest of the nobles, our attire would be as exotic as they got.
We greeted a handful of people who inquired about the kids' future, but we were quickly escorted to the Prince’s retinue. I was happy to avoid unwanted attention and Elincia seemed pleased she could eat the food at the party without any prying eyes.
The Prince didn’t waste any time and called me with a movement of his hand.
“I have a job for you Clarke,” Prince Adrien greeted me, taking a drag on a cigar and a sip of whiskey before letting the smoke go. “I need you to spy on Lord Glopfinger. My sources tell me he’s involved in an unknown plot with the Osgirians. I’d send someone else, but all my other agents are busy.”
I scanned the party.
Captain Kiln was at a table playing cards with a young man with a face only a mother could love. His face was swollen and flushed, and his skin stretched thin like an overinflated balloon with broken capillaries visible all over the nose and cheekbones.
“Stay here, Elincia,” I said, and she mumbled something that not even [Awareness] could decipher over her mouthful of food. I kissed her on the cheek before regretfully tearing myself away to go spy on the ugly bastard playing cards with Captain Kiln.
I strolled over to the table. [Awareness] told me that Glopfinger was cheating his ass off and that Captain Kiln probably didn’t know yet. Naturally, I still owed Glopfinger one for his letter to the orphanage, and obviously, I still owed Captain Kiln a debt of gratitude, so there was only one thing to do.
I got to the table and sat down.
“That’s an odd deck you’re using, Lord Glopfinger,” I said with a grin.
Izabeka’s eye had already started twitching when I had sat down, so I knew I had to make this fast, lest she think I was sabotaging her favorite pastime rather than rescuing her from a swindler. I couldn’t believe she hadn’t realized it yet. Maybe she was getting old, but [Awareness] warned me not to say it.
“Is this how your backwater hamlet operates, Captain Kiln? Sorry to disappoint, but the Glopfinger domain has no need for a jester, whomever you may be,” the bloated man gave me a look from top to bottom.
“It’s Clarke. Rob Clarke.” I said, “And don’t worry, Lord Glopfinger, the only funny business here is that deck you’re using. Normal decks aren’t supposed to have the face value printed on the back in coded patterns.”
Captain Kiln’s eyebrow raised as she looked towards Glopfinger.
“Between [Awareness] users, cheating isn’t just allowed but encouraged,” Glopfinger said, slamming a pouch of gold on the table and storming off.
When Glopfinger was safely out of earshot, Kiln finally stood up and took the bag of gold with less satisfaction than if she had won it by beating him fair and square. She massaged her face with a sigh. “Whatever you are up to, don't get me involved this time. I don’t need to file more paperwork about whatever bullshit you are dealing with.”
“Bullshit? I’m just here to help a dear friend, Izabeka.”
The rabbit had to be brought out of the burrow before hunting it. I grinned as I followed Glopfinger across the room. I would have to figure out what he was up to.
---
Glopfinger was sneaky. Suspiciously so.
I changed into my normal clothing back at the orphanage. Elincia had already done so while the kids barraged me with questions about the party. I still hadn’t figured out what Glopfinger’s plan was. During the party, he spoke with half of the nobles, but I couldn’t detect any strange pattern, and he hadn’t approached the Osgirian delegation. At least he had been foiled out of some coin.
As I hung up the jacket and unbuttoned my shirt, Elincia peeked over the screen with a grin. A strategically positioned Light Stone outlined her figure against the paper screen, but I couldn’t remember putting it there. I tried to remain calm.
“While you were busy pissing off more nobles, I figured out something we can use to get more information from Lord Glopfinger,” she mused.
“And what would that be?” I asked as I put the shirt on a hanger.
She pulled out a potion bottle, or rather a potion that was corked into a bottle of wine.
“If you dangle the bottle before Glopfinger, it might help you get the truth out of him. Don’t give it to him, though. I’m not about to go around selling one of Mr. Lowell’s potions. Now, do you want some of your Green Moss Tea? I have some from this morning.”
I knew how long it took Elincia to brew a potion. She was fast, but not that fast.
“There are some things that shouldn’t be done, such as drinking Green Moss Tea cold or letting any of the kids marry someone named Glopfinger,” I said as I put on a different shirt. “Why do you have that lying around?”
Her ears immediately started turning a deep shade of red despite her mask of smug composure a moment ago.
“T-that’s not important,” she protested, “What is important is that I know for a fact you can use this as bait to lure out Glopfinger.”
I had a feeling that it could serve as bait for more than just Glopfinger if we needed it to. I should probably be prepared for more trouble. I shooed Elincia away from the screen so I could change my pants without losing the entire afternoon.
“I’m going to see if Ginz has anything that might help me spy on Glopfinger as well. I’ll be back for the potion after that.”
Sneaking my way through the orphanage, I silently crept past the classroom with the younger kids as Astrid told a story about one of her System Quests. I thought she was supposed to be teaching them how to write, but maybe it was part of her plan. I just hoped it wasn’t another story about slitting someone’s throat on behalf of the System.
I found myself walking into Ginz’s workshop, which was oddly quiet.
Inside, Ginz was talking to his new assistant. That certainly wasn’t a good thing.
“Ginz,” I called out, hoping to interrupt whatever plans he had concocted.
“You can call me G. In the spy business we go by code names.”
I ignored whoever had tipped off Ginz to my current mission and proceeded to business.
“Well, ‘G’, do you have something for me?” I said.
“First of all, yes,” Ginz pulled what looked like a fancy wristwatch out of a case. My eyes perked up. Being able to tell the time would be great. I wouldn’t have to rely on [Awareness], which was often easily distracted if Elincia was around.
I noticed it wasn’t ticking or moving.
“Do I have to wind it up or something to get it to tell the time?” I asked.
Ginz smiled, “Oh, it doesn’t tell the time. I couldn’t fit all that in something so small. It’s a reflective surface so you can blind opponents during the day.”
I instantly discarded the useless watch. Ginz shook his head and pulled out the next item for me to inspect.
“This right here is based on the ball-point pen idea you had me working on,” Ginz started, pulling out a pen.
It looked like a somewhat classy pen, the kind you would get after several years working at a lawyer’s office. Judging by the lack of the ballpoint sticking out and the button on the other end, it appeared to be a retractable pen.
“Did you actually get the pen working?” I asked, more excited than I should be. Fountain pens hadn’t even been invented in Ebros, and quite honestly, their writing implements were nothing to write home about.
“No, but if you click this end, it squirts. Agent L won’t let me have any potions, so instead, I have it set to spray out a flammable fluid.” Ginz said as he clicked the pen, and I narrowly dodged the squirt.
“I saw you had a working lighter last week. Does this also ignite the fluid so it can shoot fire?” I asked, ignoring the pen. It was probably better not to use it than to cause a fire.
Ginz looked thoughtful for a second before turning to his assistant. “I tried that, but the pens kept exploding. Getting a pen to store any reasonable amount of liquid takes three hours of pumping to get it in.”
I looked at the fluid that was on the ground, then at Ginz.
“You better not set the orphanage on fire.”
Ginz sighed as he put the pen in a case and pulled something else out. I looked on, hoping he had something actually useful.
“This is a lightstone embedded in a ring so that you can light things up easily.”
I looked it over. “How do you turn it off?”
Ginz shrugged and I immediately gave it back as he pulled out the next ‘invention’. At least that one wasn’t bad but to call it useful for what I was doing was a stretch.
He handed me a shoe next.
“And this is a shoe.”
“Does it hide a knife or something?” I asked as I looked it over.
“Try it on.” Ginz insisted. It didn’t look dangerous, so I complied.
“It is just a shoe,” Ginz said confidently after I started to take a few steps with it.
The shoe fitted quite nicely. And there was something else that had impressed me just as much.
“Actual foot support? You’re kidding.” I said, looking at Ginz incredulously. This invention was his best yet.
“I never joke about my work, Robby boy,” Ginz replied.
“Where is the other shoe,” I asked, planning on walking out with these.
“I uh, erm.” Ginz sputtered, “I only made the one.”
I grabbed my other shoe and stormed out.
—
The next time I saw Lord Glopfinger, I was flabbergasted.
Apparently, Ginz had been manufacturing golf balls and clubs for the nobles, and apparently, they had been playing minigolf. Like a child at an amusement park, Lord Glopfinger was trying to get his golf ball past an ominous-looking windmill. His retainer, someone who looked like a butler, stood wordlessly with a stoney face that didn’t reveal how undeniably bored they probably were.
Glopfinger putted the ball, and it bounced off the blades of the windmill, clearly not for the first, second, or even third time. I must’ve chuckled because he raised his head.
“If it isn’t the Prince’s favorite toy,” Glopfinger said as his butler retrieved the ball and put it back in the starting position, “Unfortunately, I don’t believe we have any business, so kindly make like a Skeeth and step off. Preferably before I have to dirty my steward’s gloves on your filth.”
I didn’t let his open hostility stop me.
“Oh, but I do believe we have some business,” I said with a grin. “Are you familiar with the works of the famous Alchemist Lowell?”
The little lordling feigned disinterest right up until I pulled the potion out of my jacket. I had him where I needed him.
Glopfinger’s tone shifted to match his newfound interest in what I was pitching, “Where were my manners, Master Clarke? A proper introduction must be in order. I am Lord Pierce Glopfinger the Third, the heir to my great house, and this is my faithful retainer, Strange Duty.”
I could tell in his eyes he was interested in buying. I just needed to set terms that would make him sell out Lord Osgiria without giving him anything. “Maybe you would be interested in a friendly wager? Over a game of mini-golf?” I suggested.
---
I was quite good at mini-golf since my Abuelita used to take me out to play it every other week until I was in high school. Needless to say, I never beat her once. Still, with [Awareness] combined with muscle memory and knowledge of physics, it was the easiest game of mini-golf I had ever played.
It almost made me forget that the last time I played was when I was dating Laura.
Of course, Glopfinger was cheating. And I didn’t mean using a skill. I could have forgiven that. He had somehow managed to hit no less than a dozen balls into the water. In traditional mini-golf, that meant you were out. His butler was covertly ‘finding’ the balls on the course. One time, the ball had suspiciously found its way into the hole.
The trick might have fooled me if I wasn’t keenly watching the ball itself, but I had some of my own. Channeling only a smidgen of mana, I summoned a small hand that guided my ball into the holes. After an hour or so, we were on the last hole, and Glopfinger watched me strike a hole-in-one.
“By the way, Lord Glopfinger. I noticed some of your balls fell to the water hazards, so I retrieved them for you,” I smugly said as I dumped them out over the green.
Lord Glopfinger threw a fit worthy of a kid several years younger.
“Mister Clarke, I don’t believe I want to see you ever again. And if I do… well, Strange Duty, show him what we do to unwanted guests!”
Glopfinger’s suspiciously silent butler proceeded to take off his bowtie and threw it at me. I ducked instinctively. The bowtie spun over my head and sliced the top blade of the mini-golf windmill clean off.
Glopfinger immediately stormed off in a rage.
“Hey! What about our wager!” I said as I realized he had just stiffed me.
—-
Something about Glopfinger’s threat didn’t sit right with me. Or maybe it was the fact that he had welched on his bet. There was something fishy about him. I tracked him down to the abandoned manor where he was staying. My teacher’s sense told me someone was being a very naughty boy.
Loki cursed me out with words Astrid had taught him, but I ignored him and pulled a spyglass from my pocket.
Putting [Awareness] to task, I spied through the open window and read Glopfinger’s lips. The absolute idiot was ordering his lackeys in a room with large windows. Windows that he had restored rather than left boarded up like every other abandoned building in Farcrest. His lack of common sense aside, he apparently liked to monologue as well.
“Can you believe this, Loki?” I asked as the creature looked through his own miniature spyglass.
Glopfinger tried to pull out a villainous laugh in front of his goons, but the little bastard kept snorting.
“Damn beast,” Loki angrily replied. “Damn beast!” He added in surprise.
I focused back on Glopfinger.
“...and that’s when the Osgirians promised to back my bid to marry Firana. All we have to do is escort her to the Glopfinger domain and have our Zealot marry us before the Glopfinger System Shrine.”
His intentions to marry Firana were clear since the day I received the proposal letter, and these two days of spying on him have been a waste.
“But boss, didn’t she already say no?” One goon helpfully pointed out.
“No matter. We’ll be kidnap… relocating Firana tonight regardless of what she says. After we get to my domain, she won’t say no,” Glopfinger replied with that awful snorty laugh.
“But isn’t that a little? Y’know?” The goon asked.
“She could say no, but she won’t. Because of the implication,” Glopfinger said like his words were a sort of well-thought defense.
The only implication there was going to be tonight was Elincia cocking the shotgun before aiming it at this little bastard’s head.
“But won’t the Caretaker get in the way?” The goon asked.
“Don’t worry about the Scholar. Strange Duty is capturing him right now,” Glopfinger laughed with what had to be the worst villain laugh in Ebros.
I contracted my spyglass and tucked it in my pocket. “Let’s go, Loki.”
The Changeling, however, rolled up his non-existent rat sleeves and stomped his way to the roof ridge.
“Damn beast!”
“It’s not the moment to pick a fight,” I said, grabbing the rodent and putting it back into my pouch.
I slid down the roof, but as soon as I touched the ground, a strong arm coiled around my neck and everything faded out.