The town of Telurus at dusk was chaotic. It was that transitional hour when the daylight persona fell away to reveal the nocturnal side of the city.
Fritz was rather fond of this kind of disorderly atmosphere.
"The time of day when the respectable daytime mask peels away, and the true face of the night begins to peek through, huh...?"
Muttering to himself, he walked into a dimly lit corner of the district. His objective was an information broker.
Having spent years serving abroad with the Expeditionary Force, Fritz knew that towns like this almost always harbored underground information brokers where intelligence could be bought and sold for coin.
Earlier that day, once Gloria and Cynthia had stepped out, Fritz had secretly scouted locations where such brokers were likely to operate.
Saying "I think I'll relax and treat this as an extension of my vacation" had merely been a cover story. In truth, while Fritz could certainly hold his liquor, he was no heavy drinker.
In the first place, anyone incapable of exercising a basic degree of self-restraint had no business being a field officer.
"The inn's head clerk said it was around here."
It was an area full of deep shadows, thick with an air of decadence. Just then, a voice called out to him.
"Hehehe, evening, sir."
Here they come, Fritz thought, bracing himself.
Whenever someone wandered into a place like this clearly dressed as a foreign soldier, someone was bound to approach.
"You talking to me?"
"Heheh, sure am, sir....Say, looking for a nice girl tonight?"
"...W-What?"
It seemed he was a pimp, not an information broker. Caught off guard for a moment, Fritz quickly regained his composure and turned him down.
"...I'm not interested."
Fritz was blunt, making it clear he had zero desire to get involved.
"Heheh, now don't be like that, sir. Tonight's her very first time—a fresh catch, you see?"
"I said I'm not interested."
"Sir, at least have a look at her."
With that, the pimp dragged a young girl out from the shadows.
"...?!"
She appeared to be about fourteen or fifteen years old, with shortish hair and a slender frame.
"El... sa?"
No, the girl was not Elsa—Fritz knew that perfectly well.
Her hair color, eye color, and skin tone were entirely different.
Even so, the impression she gave off overlapped in his mind with that of his little sister.
"Hehehe, see anything you like, sir?"
"..."
Fritz did not answer, keeping his gaze locked onto the girl.
"...Ah."
The girl was around 155 centimeters tall. Pinned under the gaze of a man standing at 190 centimeters, she shrank back in terror.
"...Sir?"
"...How much?"
"Huh?"
"I asked how much for this girl."
At Fritz's question, the pimp, who had been momentarily dumbfounded, broke into an ingratiating grin.
"He-heheheh. So you do fancy her? Well now, tonight's her debut, so it'll be one gold coin for the night."
Ten thousand Toll—roughly one hundred thousand yen. Fritz reached into his coat, pulled out three gold coins, and handed them to the man.
"All right. I'm renting her for three full days."
Going by market rates, if tonight was 10,000 Toll, the following days would be half that, at 5,000 Toll. Fritz paid the full 30,000 Toll to secure her through the daytime as well.
"Heh, much obliged!"
Thrilled with the sum, the man whispered something to the girl and quickly slipped away.
Fritz knew the man could afford to leave so casually because multiple safeguards were in place to keep slaves from fleeing.
First was the collar. It was a magi-device, capable of strangling the wearer at the master's whim.
It was identical to the criminal identification collars fitted on convicts forced into hard labor in the mines.
Then there was the tattoo. Inscribed across the chest and other visible areas, it made one's status as a slave unmistakable at a single glance. With such a mark, finding any legitimate employment was impossible.
The girl bore both the collar and the tattoo.
"..."
She looked down, trembling all over. When Fritz placed a hand on her shoulder, her shaking only grew worse.
"...Come along."
Fritz took her by the shoulder and drew her close.
"Y-Yes..."
To the girl, who answered in a faint, dying voice, Fritz said with an exasperated sigh:
"I'm not going to eat you, so stop trembling like that."
"Yes..."
Even with that reassurance, she kept her head lowered. Choosing not to press the matter, Fritz began walking with his hand still resting on her shoulder.
His stride was long and firm, forcing the girl to follow along as if being half-dragged.
"..."
"What's your name?"
"...Rita."
"Where are you from? The east... the Liebus Region?"
"...Yes."
As they walked, Fritz gently drew out her name and birthplace. The girl, Rita, answered in halting fragments, her face tight with anxiety.
As they neared the main street, foot traffic began to pick up. Rita glanced around warily, her eyes darting between passersby.
"All right, in you go."
The two arrived at the inn where he was staying.
"There are some circumstances," Fritz said to the front desk, sliding over a silver coin as a gratuity.
The man seated at the counter, likely the head clerk, merely cast a passing glance at Rita, offered a knowing smirk, and let them pass without a word.
Fritz led Rita up to his accommodations, located at the far end of the second floor.
"Go on, inside."
Opening the door, Fritz let Rita enter ahead of him, then shut it behind them.
Inside the room, Gloria and Cynthia stared at the two of them in utter astonishment.
"Fritz-dono, who is that child?"
Gloria was the first to break the silence.
"Ah, her name is Rita. I bought her time for the next three days. So—"
Before Fritz could finish his sentence—
"F-Fritz-sama, you're disgusting!"
Her face bright red, Cynthia shrieked, kicked her chair back as she stood up, bolted into her adjoining room, and slammed the door shut behind her.
"Shia..."
Gloria watched her storm off with an exasperated expression, then turned back to Fritz with a sober look, getting straight to the point.
"Fritz-dono, there is a reason for this, isn't there?"
"Yeah, actually..."
Fritz gave a concise explanation of the situation with Rita.
As for Rita, utterly terrified by Cynthia's outburst, she had backed herself into a corner of the room, curling up to make herself as small as possible.
"I see. I understand the situation. So, what do you plan to do with her?"
Gloria had taken it all in. Now came the practical question.
"Well... to be completely honest, I haven't come up with a good plan yet."
"Excuse me?"
"For now, could you... give Rita a bath? If possible, I'd really appreciate it if you could find her some clean clothes, too. It'd be rather awkward for me to go out shopping for women's garments, after all."
While it hadn't been as obvious out on the dim streets, under the room's bright light, it was clear that Rita's clothes were terribly soiled.
With a soft chuckle, Gloria nodded. Though Fritz had acted on impulse without a plan, she respected his intentions.
"Understood. Leave it to me."
"If you could, try to find out a bit more about her circumstances," Fritz added in a low murmur.
"Right."
Gloria turned toward the girl.
"Rita, was it? Come with me. Let's get you into a warm bath."
"Um..."
"You don't need to worry. Neither I nor... Fritz-dono over there have any intention of harming you, Rita."
"Y-Yes..."
Still wary, Rita nonetheless complied with Gloria's gentle guidance.
"We'll be gone for a little while, then."
"Yeah, thanks. I'm counting on you."
Once the two had left, Fritz grabbed the unfinished bottle of wine, raised it to his lips, and drained it in a single draught.
"...What on earth can I even accomplish in a foreign country...?"