The Fat Aristocrat Waltz in the Labyrinth - Chapter 41

Chapter 41: The fat aristocrat finds a solution in the bath

Even without going to the labyrinth, Mitrof would often visit the public bathhouse.

It was partly due to habit and partly to clear his head of problems that were not going well or getting stuck.

Taking a bath in the middle of the day was not bad.

The bathhouse that Mitrof went to after his adventure was always dimly lit. However, in the daytime, sunlight streamed in from the stained glass ceiling and skylights, reflecting off the white walls and tiles, making it a pleasantly bright environment. The greenery of the potted plants placed here and there also looked vivid.

The clientele was also slightly different from the nighttime crowd. Mitrof recognized many unfamiliar faces, but they appeared to be adventurers from the atmosphere. They could be people who took a bath before heading to the labyrinth, or novice adventurers who were also prohibited from entering the labyrinth, like Mitrof.

There were people whom Mitrof was sure were like himself, slouching and gazing blankly at the skylight or the water’s surface, propped up on their elbows with nothing to do.

Mitrof was one of them, unable to concentrate on the pleasure of the bath, not feeling motivated, and unable to find anything to do.

“Oh… how unusual.”

The voice was familiar to him. The sight was refreshing and unfamiliar.

“…It’s been a while.”

It was a familiar lion-head man. It was difficult to see in the dim light of the night. However, in the bright daylight, Mitrof was amazed by the man’s sturdy build and the fierce nature of his lion head. Although he spoke casually, he exuded an aura that suggested he was not just an ordinary adventurer.

With a splash, the lion-headed man submerged himself in the water, his mane trailing behind him.

“What a coincidence to meet you in the daytime.”

“Yes, the labyrinth is off-limits.”

“Ah, right, the troll incident—It seems to have been quite noisy.”

For him, the incident seemed to be of a minor degree. Mitrof scratched his cheek, thinking that this man might be a fairly advanced adventurer.

“I heard about the troll’s ‘march’ happening on the upper floors—were you safe?”

“The “march” itself was fine. I encountered a few of them. I almost died in a battle with the red-eyed troll.”

“Oh, you fought a red-eyed troll—impressive.”

The lion-headed man seemed genuinely impressed. Mitrof was not used to receiving praise from someone who was probably quite powerful. His back felt itchy.

“So, it was you who found the relic.”

Mitrof was surprised.

“How did you know?”

“There are those who find value in such information—and valuable things circulate, especially when it comes to relics—and I heard about a promising newcomer who found a relic that everyone on the upper floors had overlooked and defeated a Red-Eyed troll.”

“Gururu” laughs with a rumble in his throat.

“… You’re kidding, right?”

“No, it is true that there are stories about that. It’s quite impressive to accomplish those two things alone. When it comes to relics, I hear that there’s a lot of information going around. After all, curious collectors have money and power. If you get into trouble with a troublesome person, tell them. I might be able to help you a little.”

“…Thank you very much.”

‘Can he really help deal with troublesome people in power?—Who is this person?’

Mitrof realized he was making guesses and evaluations, so he immediately washed his face with hot water. This was something like an ingrained aristocratic trait.

“Do they really want relics that much?”

He asked to change the subject, feeling his own thoughts were base.

“Rare things only have value because they are rare—It would make you feel fulfilled to get your hands on it. I know a guy who relies on adventurers to collect rare materials and decorate them in a special glass case called the Ward Box. It’s engraved with magic, and apparently, anything put inside can be preserved as if time were stopped—truly a ridiculous hobby…”

“Excuse me.”

Mitrof widened his nostrils and approached the lion-headed man. As if an angel had whispered in his ear, that spark raced through his mind.

“I would like to meet that person.”