36 – Nocturne
If someone asks a Federal person about the synonym for winter, they would likely mention the hundredfold cold and snow. However, if asked to an Imperial person, they might receive a slightly different answer.
A long night.
The darkness of the Empire is profound. Due to the difficulty of even obtaining candles, let alone magical lights.
Because of this, the winter of the Imperial citizens is simply a season of gloom, filled with sticky rain and darkness.
However, in the case of the Federation, it’s different.
Indoors, magical lamps abundantly adorn the entire city.
Stars suspended in the sky drive away darkness at night, and a night without darkness can no longer serve as a marker for the end of the day.
The winter of the Federation meant that the time for tilting glasses and engaging in conversations became even longer.
The pub street in the western part of Prausen.
On Kram Gana Street in Prausen, it’s quite far from the main road to the Imperial headquarters, a place I’ve only visited a few times.
So today was the first time I saw the night scenery of the pub street.
“…There are too many people.”
A lively and bustling street.
It’s almost impossible to find a pub with the lights turned off.
Even around nine in the evening, there were still too many people.
As someone accustomed to the dark and gloomy nights of the Empire, it felt even more pronounced.
“hahahahaha!”
“Well, cheers, cheers.”
There were even those clinking glasses at outdoor tables on this cold day.
It was a night where bits of frost fluttered. Although I wrapped a scarf around my peculiar outfit, they were laughing heartily without showing any signs of feeling cold.
Perhaps it’s the power of alcohol.
“Hmm.”
Having never tasted alcohol, it was difficult for me to empathize.
Perhaps today was the day I would come to know the taste of alcohol. The reason I had kept my distance from it so far was simply because I shunned luxury items.
Speaking of luxury items, one came to mind.
I cautiously touched the object I had placed inside my coat pocket.
A gift from Director Lovebrace.
An elegantly curved ebony pipe.
Even though I had heard the recommendation to “take it with you,” it seemed unlikely that I, who hadn’t taken a sip of alcohol, would ever put the pipe to my lips.
What was the director’s intention in giving this to me?
I stopped my thoughts right there.
As I moved, I realized I had unconsciously arrived at my destination.
[ Bar Prelude ]
“Is this the place.”
Bar Prelude.
The small bar, located at the corner of the building, was the destination following the address written on the invitation.
A sign that seemed to neither have the intention of attracting customers nor not attracting them. The interior of the bar, though quaint, was adorned with various modest decorations.
As fate would have it, there were only about half as many patrons inside compared to the other establishments.
Doubts that I had momentarily set aside resurfaced.
“That’s supposed to be the Norton Club…?”
I might sound foolish saying this, but no matter how I looked at it, it seemed far from being a gathering place for intellectuals.
Not only was Werner’s presence not visible, but the atmosphere inside the bar also didn’t encourage patrons to engage in active conversations.
Above all, the attire.
Including the mismatched shoes, all the other guests were dressed impeccably, unlike me.
I checked the invitation again, wondering if the address was wrong, but it was in vain.
Werner. Was it my fault for blindly believing the invitation he sent me?
I clenched my fist.
“…If it’s a mistake in the address, I won’t let it go.”
There was no other choice for me, as I had already arrived at the bar.
Taking out the letter I had carefully tucked away and placing it in my pocket, I knew I had to at least see Werner’s face.
With a mixture of suspicion and tension, I opened the door to Bar Freilude.
Creak, clang!
A cheerful chime resonated through the air.
Simultaneously, I locked eyes with a waitress whose expression was difficult to read.
“Welcome. How many in your party?”
“Uh, just me.”
The interior of the bar wasn’t particularly spacious, shaped like an ‘L’.
The area with the customer tables and the bartender was on the long side of the ‘L’, and for some reason, the waitress didn’t seem inclined to guide me in that direction.
To be precise.
The waitress stood still, her deep blue eyes scanning my entire body.
Wearing a hat, no tie, and with an odd demeanor of unbuttoning the shirt inside her coat.
It was when I stood there, unable to move or say anything.
Finally, the waitress, who had even cast her gaze on my mismatched black and brown shoes, bent down and greeted me once again.
“Welcome.”
In the next moment,
She opened the “No Entry for Unauthorized Personnel” door, located in a corner of the store, unnoticed by customers or pedestrians outside.
“Please follow me. This way…”
“Ah, yes.”
At a glance, it seemed like a restroom or a storage room door.
However, what was inside was none other than a neat corridor.
The waitress slowly closed the door as I tried to hide my surprise and stepped into the corridor.
I walked alone along the dimly lit corridor adorned with mystical lights. As I looked around the decorations that reminded me of the night sky, I realized that I could hear voices of people coming from somewhere.
Even though the bar outside was clearly quiet.
When I finally reached the end of the corridor,
“No. You must have studied investigation, right? Why do you make up expressions as you please?”
“My writing is perfect. I have no intention of changing a single sentence or word.”
“Unbelievable. Wittgenstein! Come over here, will you?”
“…Is it you again? Joyce?”
I saw it.
A space that seemed much wider than the bar outside, bustling with a dozen or so people engaged in lively conversations.
And in that midst, Werner stood with his arms crossed, wearing his characteristic smile.
If there was one common feature, they all wore matching pairs of shoes.
I saw Werner approaching me.
It had been about a month since I last saw him. His shameless face hadn’t changed much.
I was the first to speak.
“Long time no see.”
“Long time indeed. I didn’t expect you to come at the end of the month after such a long time in January.”
Werner chuckled.
“Well, it doesn’t matter! Welcome to the Norton Club.”
“…What is this place exactly? Is there a secret space inside the bar? Do they have some strange dress code?”
“hahahahaha, the people here said the same thing at first. Let’s start with greetings.”
“Greetings?”
When I asked, Werner just chuckled and didn’t give any specific answer.
Instead, he gestured for me to follow him and headed towards a table in a corner of the space.
There, a middle-aged man with a strong impression was scribbling with a pencil on a stack of papers.
A tower of paper. I glimpsed the paper at the top that said [Symphony No.4], and I barely realized that it was a musical staff.
Is he a composer?
“Maestro Mahler.”
“Werner. You’ve brought someone, I see.”
“hahahaha. That’s just how things go sometimes.”
“And who is this friend next to you?”
When the middle-aged man gestured towards me, Werner subtly cast a glance my way. Perhaps it was my turn.
“I’m Eugene Oslo.”
“Ah, Eugene Oslo, the joint top scorer. Welcome to the Norton Club.”
Though Benjamin appeared twenty years younger, his demeanor was anything but ordinary.
After exchanging greetings, Werner chuckled at my bewildered expression.
“Aren’t you accustomed to such occasions?”
“To be honest, not really.”
“Well, you’ll get used to it. Come on, let’s continue.”
And so, the ‘introductions’ continued.
The next person, an artist grappling with a brush, seemed to be of a similar age to the composer from earlier.
“Master Clint, hello.”
“…”
“Seems like you’re deep in concentration. Alright, next!”
From Noble mtl dot com
In the gathering of about a dozen people, there were no elderly or middle-aged individuals. The two middle-aged men were the only ones.
In other words, the remaining ten or so were all young individuals like me.
Unlike the two middle-aged men who weren’t particularly engaged in conversation, the young ones seemed hungry for a new discussion partner.
They seemed so passionate that they wouldn’t mind if the other person’s hair wasn’t gray but rainbow-colored.
“This is Eugene Oslo. He’s the joint top scorer in this year’s Federal Magic University entrance exam.”
Their gazes underwent an immediate transformation.
“Top scorer at the Federal Magic University?! Hurry, take a seat here!”
“The troublemaker has arrived. Ah, Werner. Know that I won’t treat a lunatic like you as a senior.”
As soon as they heard the word ‘senior,’ they quickly pulled me into the arena of debate.
Then, they introduced themselves one by one – a young poet and novelist, a technician, a philosopher, and even a current student of the Magic University.
It seemed the rumors were true. The Norton Club was indeed a place where young people from various fields gathered for healthy discussions.
“By the way, what’s the topic?”
I became curious about what they were debating and asked.
“We were discussing the interpretation of my work.”
“Shut up, Joyce. No one understands your novel anyway.”
“We happened to shift the topic towards magic. We were discussing the statistical interpretation of Boltzman’s proposed Type 2 magic. Are you going to join?”
I widened my eyes.
“That’s an intriguing topic indeed.”
“hahahaha, as expected of a theorist. Eugene, get a drink.”
Werner sat me on the couch and poured wine into a simple glass, then handed it to me.
I took a sip of the reddish liquid.
“… It’s bitter.”
“That’s right. It’s cheap wine.”
It was dull and bitter. The rising warmth that followed was also nothing special.
Although the alcohol didn’t suit my taste,
the enthusiasm of the late-night discussions in the secret room was quite enjoyable.
So, with a magic book in hand, I strolled through the world of magic with these oddly dressed young people.
The debate concluded, and the atmosphere began to calm.
I sensed that it was time to deliver the letter.
