Million Dollar Bill Volume 1 Chapter 4

“So, where did you go off to?”

On our way to the bank. While a sulking Aretha was walking ahead of us, I decided to ask Ray about where he had gone.

“I went to buy a present for the cutest little sister in the world.”

Ah, so it was that. I forgot that this guy had a serious sister complex.

“India's?”

Ray kissed the large, wax-sealed envelope in his hands, which I a.s.sumed was his gift to Aretha, before answering.

“India is the only little sister I have. It has always been like this and will continue to be so for the rest of eternity.”

“You really cherish your little sister, huh?”

“Obviously. An older brother who doesn't love their little sister doesn't deserve to breathe oxygen.”

What an excessively proper older brother. It'd be great if he could say a word or two to Aretha's siblings.

“It'd be nice if you also took charge of being Aretha's bodyguard.”

“I don't care what happens to someone else's little sister.”

Of course, this guy is exclusively attentive to his little sister specifically, so I probably shouldn't expect anything from him.

Haa, if Aretha's siblings had modeled themselves after this guy even slightly, then I would probably be having an easy time right now. No, I probably wouldn't have met Aretha in the first place. How would I pay back my million dollar debt then?

······Wait. Does this mean I should be grateful that Aretha's siblings hate her?

“This is it, right?”

Aretha's shadow slowed down as Aretha decelerated her pace in front of us. The words “One Nation Bank” were written on the sign which Aretha was pointing at.

It was the Omaha branch of the bank which the Franklin family owned.

A 7-stories tall building. Thick brick walls and double pane windows. It had a firmness that was similar to a fortress. Additionally, there were heaps and heaps of investigators from the Pinkerton Detective Agency at the front door. They were checking the bags of everyone who entered in order to see if they had any weapons. They were only investigators in name. In reality, they were actually just a bunch of punks who did anything for money. They were probably hired by Rodney, who was worried that the will would be stolen, to guard the bank.

“Busting our way into the bank acting like robbers in order to steal the will was never our plan to begin with, but what now?”

I asked Ray.

“No, you're the one who said we should wait until the sun went down, Bill. Did you not already have a plan in mind?”

“It's your job to use your brain, Ray. I figured you would have thought up a detailed plan by now.”

“It's too late to say something irresponsible like that! The bank's business hours will be over soon!”

Ah, d.a.m.n it. We're screwed. As I thought, should we come back tomorrow after thinking up a plan?

“······I shouldn't have put my trust in you two.”

I heard Aretha complain as she let out a sigh. What do you want from us?

“Wait.”

It was at that moment, Ray lowered his voice and whispered to us.

“Someone is tailing us. Act natural.”

“I know, idiot. I noticed them a long time ago. What's worse is the fact that I could barely concentrate on our conversation because of the noisy click-clacking behind us.”

After hearing me say that in an annoyed tone, Aretha seemed surprised.

“Wait, what are you guys talking about? We're being tailed⎯?”

I didn't answer Aretha's question. I instead pulled out my revolver, stuck it under my armpit, and fired behind me.

“Hiii!”

A pathetic cry rang out. However, not only was everyone's attention on the parade, but an old lady who lived in a townhouse adjacent from the road we were on opened her second-floor window and blew a horn right when I shot my gun as well, so no one noticed. At most, people would probably brush the gunshot off as some loud firecracker.

“Don't shoot!”

A feeble silhouette was standing at the end of our stretched shadows. Our clumsy stalker, who had on a flat cap and had a mantle wrapped around their entire body, raised their head. The sight of them trembling like a poplar tree due to the shock of the bullet landing near their dress shoes was pathetic.

“You shouldn't wear loud shoes if you're going to tail someone. That's if you aren't confident in your ability to walk quietly.”

The person appeared to be three or four years younger than Aretha. They had no blemishes on their face and their features were delicate. They barely reached Aretha's height despite wearing high heels, and they had curled, glimmering blonde hair. They had bright blue eyes. She was a girl that numerous men in the United States of America dreamed of at least once when they were young.

“W-Wait a second!”

The panicking girl stuck her hands out and shouted. It was as if she believed she could block oncoming bullets if she did that. Or maybe it was so that she could tell us that she was unarmed.

She had on a modest, long skirt. If she puts on an ap.r.o.n, then she would without a doubt be a little princess. She clearly looked like a normal maid and the fact that she tailed us while wearing uncomfortable high heels in itself made me believe she was harmless, but I decided to stay wary for now.

“If you move a single step from your position, then something unpleasant will happen.”

I waved my gun as I threatened her. I've been pointing my gun at charming young ladies a lot recently and that made me sad.

I'm an educated man who once learned manners and read books in order to socialize with people from high society back when I still lived on the east coast. If we hadn't met in a situation like this, then we could have probably enjoyed a cup of tea and have had a nice conversation.

“What are you doing?! Pointing a gun at a cute girl like this! Have you no shame?”

Aretha spread her arms out and stepped in front of me.

“If putting up with shame is all it takes to live another day, then I would walk the streets naked. In Wild West shows, there are markswomen who are as pretty as this girl. I don't know how life was like for a Native American hick like you, but there were numerous ladies who were capable of putting a hole in the heads of 3 men from 40 yards away back in my world. With smiles on their faces, at that.”

I glared at Aretha.

“There's no certainty that this adorable, little lady doesn't know how to handle a gun and isn't hiding a Dellinger in one of her sleeves.”

“Are you always suspicious of everyone you meet?”

“Only when I have a bad feeling. Furthermore, we're the ones being followed right now. It isn't a bad idea to be more cautious than normal in a situation like this.”

I'm not sure why, but this girl didn't seem like an alchemist to me. Nevertheless, that doesn't change the fact that she was following us. In order to put away my already drawn gun, certain conditions must be met. The other party either has to be dead or possess leverage that's capable of making me lower my gun.

“You may be nervous because a gun is being pointed at you, but answer me this. Who exactly are you and why are you following us?”

“That's···.”

“Tick tock. You have 5 seconds remaining. This lump of metal is actually a lot heavier than it seems, so holding it up for a long time is tiring.”

I feel like I look like the villain in this scenario. I'm pointing a gun at a pretty girl while the enthusiastic music of a marching band resonated around us. This is seriously a bizarre scene.

“My name is Rita. I'm a servant that works in Young Master Rodney's estate. I was only following you all because I was following Young Master's orders.”

“All right. Then farewell, Rita.”

I pulled back the hammer of my gun. It appears that there's no reason to keep her alive.

“Wait! Just what's going on inside that brain of yours?! If you kill everyone that approaches you, then you'll become a loner and die as a lonely old man!”

You should hear people out completely, Aretha added.

I tilted my head in response to Aretha's comment. What does she intend to do by hearing her out?

“Is there a reason to hear anything more? It's obvious that her master ordered her to secretly get behind his half-sister and stab her in the back.”

I admit it. I'm really sensitive right now. I wasn't able to sleep properly last night, and, above all else, I've been constantly on edge since a couple of days ago.

“Young Master Rodney isn't that sort of person!”

The trembling Rita shouted. I ended up faltering for a second because of her vigor.

“Young Master Rodney really, really wants to meet his sister!”

Of course he does. Because he wants to kill her.

“Young Master Rodney sent me because he was concerned that Miss Aretha would be afraid and told me to quietly invite her to his estate!”

The sight of her shouting as she clenched her fists and closed her eyes tightly reminded me of a hedgehog. No, why am I pointing a gun at a cute girl like this? A man like me should have never been born.

“Young Master Rodney has no intention of hurting Miss Aretha.”

Rita spoke quietly, but powerfully. I don't know why, but she was persuasive. My unease was gradually disappearing. Is it really all right for me to be persuaded this quickly?

Before I knew it, Rita was only two steps away from me. I lowered my gun. I strangely felt as if I could trust this girl. What exactly about this lady felt dangerous to me to make me pull out my gun?

“No.”

However, something different from my suspicion, for example, ‘my intuition', made me raise my gun again. I was surprised at myself. Even though my mind had no doubt about this girl in front of me, I was being stubborn.

“Bill, I want to talk face to face with Rodney.”

Aretha's forehead s.h.i.+ned boldly. With both of her hands on her hips, her legs were spread at shoulder width. She was sticking her chest out in an imposing manner. The confidence on her face was as extended as the shadows stretched by the sunset.

“Absolutely not.”

I refuted Aretha without even giving her the chance to breathe.

Abrupt nonsense is only cute when done to a certain degree. It was so bad that even Ray, who was normally in charge of speaking nonsense, was standing next to me with a weird look on his face.

I faced Aretha again and tried to convince her.

“I'm saying this again, but all of your half-brothers, including Rodney, see you as a thorn in their sides. Do you not recall that Bryshere Gray guy? Your great half-siblings and the entire world are trying to kill you, but you're going to walk into Rodney Franklin's home by yourself?”

“That's insane.”

Ray added. Our opinions were unusually aligned today. I agree, this girl isn't sane right now.

“For there to be an older brother who doesn't cherish their little sister, that's ridiculous.”

That's what you mean, you siscon?!

“No, not only did I hear that Rodney was also born from a concubine, but I heard rumors that he's modest and so kind that he wouldn't hurt a fly.”

It's one of two things. This girl is either an awful believer that human nature is fundamentally good, or there was something bad in those eggs Benedict we had earlier.

“On what basis? Are you telling me that you're going to just believe the reputation of the half-brother you've never met before and throw away your life?”

“Young Master Rodney is also learning ballet as a hobby!”

Rita added. So what? Ballet?

“See?! His hobby is even ballet!”

“What about it?!”

I shot back at her, but it was no use. Aretha's eyes were already filled with confidence.

“Young Master Rodney devotes 2 hours every day to grab a bar and practice dancing.”

“Amazing! He practices ballet every day!”

“In what way does that mean Rodney Franklin's home is safe?!”

“Think about it! Imagine him going around on the end of his toes while in a leotard and trying to kill his little sister like that! How hilarious would that be?! I never met him before, but I don't want to picture my brother to be like that sort of person!”

“That's just your wishful thinking!”

No, more importantly, male ballet dancers don't stand on the ends of their toes! Why does she have such a twisted preconception of ballet dancers?!

“Coincidentally, Young Master should be in the middle of practicing right now. If you go now, then you'll be able to see him in his leotard.”

“What's up with that?! That's creepy!”

I screamed.

“You obviously wear a leotard when you do ballet!”

It was clear to me that Aretha was misunderstanding something. Leotards are what female dancers wear. That guy definitely has some sort of bad, s.e.xual fetis.h.!.+ Of course, his fetishes probably have nothing to do with his hatred towards his little sister! He just seems dangerous!

“I lived my entire life without a family. Are you that against me meeting my family for the first time?”

The instant I heard those words, I heard the sound of my rationality snap in my head.

“What does family have to do with this?! What makes them any different from strangers? Every single one of them is trying to kill you! Who do you think you can believe when you've already died once?! How many times do you have to die before you come to your senses?! Your wealthy family hates you! You naive girl!”

Be it my parents who abandoned me when danger arrived or Aretha's half-siblings who were trying to get rid of her for the sake of receiving the inheritance, they were all the same. In the end, it's only human to cut your blood ties for the sake of your own pros and cons. Despite being referred to as family members, they're far crueler than someone you would randomly meet on the streets. In conclusion, the only one you can trust and rely on is yourself.

“Yeah. I'm naive and foolish. That's why I want to try trusting them one more time. My mom told me that family should trust and rely on each other.”

Aretha lowered her gaze and smiled softly.

“You can't cut a fig tree just because you want to know how high it can grow. Closing off your chances on your own is a foolish thing to do.”

The simple face of a native. Despite being Aretha, there was some truth in her nonsense.

“···d.a.m.n it.”

It seems I spoke too much. Since when did I become a half-wit who meddled in other people's family affairs?

I knew from the very beginning that she was a girl who wouldn't bend her stubbornness. I gave up trying to persuade her.

“All right, then let's do this. Ray and I will tag along. Even if you exclude Rodney, there are plenty of other people who are after Aretha.”

This time, Rita moved her brows as if she was troubled.

“Young Master Rodney dislikes uninvited guests.”

“We'll be quiet.”

I already know that most people don't like uninvited guests.

“Are you one of Miss Aretha's family members? Miss Aretha wishes to meet Young Master Rodney, but what qualifications do you have to prevent Miss Aretha from doing so or to come along with her?”

Rita spoke. The girl got angry for the first time. I couldn't stand against her anymore.

“···.”

I couldn't answer her. I'm nothing to Aretha. I'm simply a mercenary she had hired with money. I closed my mouth.

“It's okay. I'll be fine even if I go by myself. I'll be back soon.”

“The security around the estate is perfect. Your companions can enjoy the festival while they wait.”

I wound up becoming tired of Aretha and Rita's obstinate att.i.tudes.

“Fine, go do ballet or play cricket with Rodney. I don't care.”

There's no point in trying to stop this girl. I knew this for a fact because of what happened last night. This girl has an annoying knack for being able to persuade the people who are trying to persuade her.

Most importantly, I have no right to meddle in Aretha's affairs more than necessary.

Nevertheless, it still didn't feel right to let her go like this. Aretha's safety is deeply connected to paying back my debt, after all.

What's the best choice I can make right now?

I took out a rectangular piece of paper and scribbled down a few words before handing the piece of paper and the pen to Aretha.

“······Okay?”

I briefly whispered something into Aretha's ear as a precaution.

Aretha looked up at me in surprise for a moment before quietly nodding her head.

“Once her business with Young Master Rodney is over, we'll send someone from the estate to fetch you two.”

After telling us that, Rita left together with Aretha.

Furthermore, it wasn't until the two of them disappeared into the ma.s.ses that I realized something was wrong.

“Ray.”

He hadn't uttered a single word since earlier, so I was starting to feel uneasy.

“Wait. Give me a second.”

I noticed that Ray's gla.s.s eyes were emitting an orange glow behind his colored gla.s.ses. He was furrowing his brows as if he was concentrating on something. Did something happen?

“They got us.”

“What?”

“Someone activated a type of distortion that tampers with your mind. Moreover, I wasn't able to resist this distortion. No, it wasn't until a second ago that I even noticed someone was using alchemy. I don't know why.”

I felt a chill go down my spine once I heard Ray's response. A late sense of crisis started to ring in my head.

“My gla.s.s eyes definitely warned me, but I didn't believe them. Why didn't I believe them?”

Ray talked while tapping his temples. Unfortunately, I don't know that much about alchemy. I have no idea what had happened just now.

“Ray, how did Rita recognize Aretha immediately even though she's only a maid? Aretha looks completely different from the information that was released to the public. Not only is her hair brown, but her outfit is completely different as well. Furthermore, contrary to the information that was publicized, the Caucasian blood in her is thick, so her skin is white.”

“More importantly, since when did we become such obedient people? A girl we've never met before took our client away and we let her go just like that.”

Ray asked. My sense of crisis was now swirling inside of me like lightning. Something was wrong. It felt as if someone had taken away our very sense of caution.

“Rodney doesn't seem like a dangerous person, but my instincts keep sending me warning signals. I don't like this one bit.”

Ray was the one to look surprised this time.

“Hey, Bill.”

Ray took out his Catalogue and spoke.

“Why exactly do you believe that Rodney isn't dangerous?”

“······What?”

At that moment, a sharp piece of iron flew at us from outside my field of vision. A hand ax came flying at us aiming at Ray's neck. Before I could even shout ‘Be careful', the weapon struck Ray.

“Hm?”

Right before the hatchet touched Ray's neck, it turned into a thin branch. Mojos can't be harmed by normal edged weapons and bullets. Ray picked up the branch that fell to the ground and looked towards the direction where the ax had come from dubiously.

“Oh dear. It appears that we've gotten ourselves into a mess.”

At the end of Ray's gaze were three middle-aged men breathing heavily. They weren't the only ones. The large crowd of people was now surrounding us and looking at us with hostile gazes. In all of their hands were pieces of lumber and tools which they had probably picked up from somewhere. Even the old lady who was selling Mexican barbeque was standing there with a pair of skewers in her hands.

“Since when did human sacrifice become one of the Unification Festival's main events? I was never told that Aztec culture was trending again.”

We were in a volatile situation. I took out my revolver.

“Put that away, Bill. They're pitiful people who're all being controlled by alchemy.”

Ray opened his Catalogue. The paper model that appeared in the pages he opened had a bizarre shape. It was as if someone had grabbed the ends of a crescent moon and pulled them together.

“Jie Majie's Fortune Cookie.”

Ray tore out the page and uttered the Fund's name.

After turning into particles of light, the paper model turned into its actual form on top of Ray's hand.

It was a flour snack that was made by folding a thin layer of dough. The surface of the brown snack looked so delicate that it felt like it wouldn't be able to endure even the smallest of impacts.

“What's with the cookie?”

Does he intend to appease his hunger even in a situation like this? It's smaller than the palm of his hand, so I doubt it'd be fulfilling. I was about to poke the fortune cookie, but Ray panicked and stopped me.

“Careful. If this breaks here, then everything around us up to a few blocks away will disappear. Including us.”

I pulled my finger back immediately. I don't know what it is, but if it's as Ray had said, then this is an incredibly dangerous item. Therefore, I took three steps back before questioning him.

“What exactly does it do?”

The cookie in Ray's hand looked more harmless than the person who had tailed us, Rita. What about it is so dangerous?

“How dare you do that to my husband!”

An elderly woman swung a wooden poker at my face. I urgently turned my arm into silver coins and blocked it. There was deep hatred in the woman's eyes. She glared at me with bloodshot eyes. It wasn't really a life-threatening attack, but I wound up feeling fear.

“The h.e.l.l are you talking about? This is the first time we're meeting!”

I tried shouting back at her, but it was pointless. A rake, cane, hammer, and all sorts of other junk followed after and a.s.saulted me. There were too many people shouting at the same time, so I couldn't understand everything, but it was clear that they all had their own respective reason as to why they hated me.

“How is your cow having a miscarriage my fault?!”

I didn't have enough money to turn my entire body into coins. Every attack that I couldn't block hit my body and caused me to bleed.

“Ray!”

On the other hand, Ray's side looked peaceful. All of the weapons that were swung at him turned into harmless objects before they could hit him. All of the people who grew tired after trying to harm Ray came and vented their anger on me instead.

“Just keep watching. I'm almost done.”

People holding deadly, blunt, and dangerous items were attacking me, but you expect me to keep watching?

However, I had no other choice but to trust Ray the instant he muttered something in a low voice.

“Consume everything, Kowabunga···.”

Crunch. I heard the sound of a cookie crumbling into pieces above my head.

At the same time, everyone stopped moving.

The sound of crumbling didn't end there. Crunch, crunch. The clear sound started echoing from all over before it eventually covered the entire street.

The eyes of the people who had absolute killing intent radiating from them returned to normal. Everyone seemed to have no idea what had happened. They looked down at the objects in their hands with confused looks on their faces before they became even more confused and started to disperse.

“What happened?”

I asked as I watched a bunch of people toss their weapons away in panic.

“I erased the alchemic distortion that was tampering with their minds. Yours included.”

Ray continued.

“This may seem like a normal cookie, but this little fellow is an incredibly dangerous Fund. It's the masterpiece of Jie Majie, a Chinese Fund Manager who immigrated here and was notorious as a British informant and as the New Continent's traitor during the American Revolution. It has the power to consume any distortion that occurs within a certain range. Of course, I did get it cheap because it was already almost full, so I don't think I'll be able to use it anymore.”

“That explanation by itself doesn't really scare me.”

Ray shook his head.

“The number of distortions this little guy ate during both the American Revolution and the War of 1812 is immense. If this fortune cookie were to ever break, a ma.s.sive distortion would happen all at once. If that happens, then the will of the world would isolate the area the distortion had occurred in in order to maintain the law of nature and delete everything inside of the area from existence. You could call this a type of reaction.”

Ray put the cookie back in his Catalogue.

“The alchemy that was used here seems to have been a type of mind control. This hurts my pride. I may be rotten, but I'm still a Mojo, so the fact that I was done in by this sort of obvious, underhanded trick annoys me.”

“So you're saying that, besides those other people, we were also targeted by that alchemy?”

“Let me ask you again. Why exactly do you believe that Rodney isn't dangerous?”

My mind went blank for 3 seconds before I finally understood what Ray meant. I had been brainwashed into believing that Rodney wasn't dangerous.

Come to think of it, there weren't only one or two things that seemed off. From Aretha's insane declaration and the fact that Ray and I let Rita go. The three of us were all done in by alchemy.

“Rodney was nearby, huh.”

“He must have used alchemy all around us while we were focused on Rita.”

Rodney had used alchemy to freeze our rationality and lure Aretha to his estate. I never expected him to use this sort of dirty trick.

“I have to bring Aretha back before she dies again.”

Right before I could run off, Ray grabbed my shoulder.

“Even if you break in through his window, he'll probably be holding Aretha hostage.”

“That's···.”

He was right. For now, if the opposition holds Aretha hostage, then we're put in quite the difficult spot.

“Bill, you have to make a choice. Will you take the risk and try to rescue Aretha who may already be dead, or···.”

I knew where Ray was going with this.

“The will.”

“Yeah. There's also the option of stealing the will from the bank first and then leaving this place after rescuing Aretha. Of course, there's a chance that Aretha could have already died and vanished completely by then.”

Ray added. That's a good point.

“No, I gave ‘that' to Aretha. She'll definitely use it if she's in danger.”

I had prepared the minimum safety measure just in case the worst were to occur. The rectangular piece of paper I had handed to Aretha. That will protect her life. However, what would happen if she doesn't do as I had instructed?

“Think carefully. Aretha's life is obviously important. If we move right away, then we might be able to save her. However, our chances to steal the will would decrease.”

“Who cares about the will? If Aretha dies, then everything is ruined.”

I couldn't understand what Ray was trying to get at. Wasn't Aretha the most crucial person to us? If she dies over and over again and completely loses her being, then I would have to say my farewells to the inheritance. I would be losing out on an opportunity to make a huge profit.

“Get a hold of yourself, Bill. The people involved in the inheritance issue don't know how Aretha exactly looks. You aren't comprehending the situation properly. Calm your nerves and think about it again.”

“What are you talking about?”

I couldn't understand what Ray was saying.

“Rather than risking our lives to save a person who may die at any moment, it would be better if we quickly acquired the will and found some other mixed-blood Native American who looks similar to Aretha. If that woman dies, then we just have to gather the will while finding replacements. What's important are the wills, not Aretha. Traveling with a Flasko is no different from bringing death upon ourselves.”

I had forgotten that Ray was a trader who's thoroughly driven by his own losses and gains.

“Even if Aretha dies, there are plenty of replacements for her.”

I didn't want to accept it, but the majority of what Ray had said was right.

Aretha's sad face brushed past my mind for a second, but my rationality had already accepted Ray's words.

“If you have feelings for Aretha, then throw them out now.”

Ray's words felt like cold water pouring down over my head.

It felt as if my heart were shriveling. I struggled to answer.

“······Bounty hunters don't trust or love anything besides money and their guns.”

Although there was a faint sensation on the tips of my fingers and a corner of my heart hurt, I did my best to ignore these feelings.

“Don't let your emotions drive you. What you need now is money. If you don't have that, you'll die.”

Ray patted my shoulder.

“I know. I was just taken in by the mood of the festival for a bit.”

Romance has never been an option for me. And it never will. Allowing your heart to get needlessly involved in a fleeting relations.h.i.+p in the West only brings ruin.

Self-control is the greatest virtue in the West. In this place where it's impossible to get your hands on everything, we can only choose two or so things to cherish.

What I chose was this pistol which rarely squibbed and fitted perfectly in my hand.

What I need wasn't a girl who had turned the entire world into her enemy, but sufficient money.

I'm a b.a.s.t.a.r.d who pulls the trigger of his gun recklessly in order to get just a handful of cash.

Lawbreakers aren't the first people bounty hunters kill once they pick up their guns.

The first things bounty hunters kill are their own emotions. Their story only begins after that.

“Your worst tendency is your habit to waste things. You waste your emotions, money, and everything else. Think about why you wound up in this situation again.”

It was as Ray said. I ended up wasting the ownerless gold, which I obtained while tracking a train robber, in less than a year. As a result, when the alchemist came to take back his gold, he tried to kill me once he realized I had none left.

I managed to persuade him and received a deadline of 1 year, but my body wound up getting twisted by alchemy. A being that was neither man nor money. I was cursed in a way where I felt pain as if I were tearing out a piece of my flesh whenever I took out money and where I would cease to be Bill Withers and disappear once I didn't have enough money.

This body was the very embodiment of the lesson which the alchemist intended to teach me.

Money is everything. I didn't need anything except money.

“······That won't happen now.”

I brushed the dust off of my hands. I felt like I could brush away Aretha's warmth if I did this.

I turned my heavily beating heart into money without Ray knowing and calmed it down. Coldly suppress the human Bill Withers. I no longer thought about Aretha's face.

“It's fine if you get it.”

Ray snapped his fingers.

“Now then, let's go get Rodney's will.”

Ray took out a cane from his Catalogue and grinned. I also made a perfunctory smile.

“But how?”

After moving his cane around desultorily, Ray brought it to a halt as he stabbed the floor.

“I'm not sure.”

At that moment, once the two of us became quiet, a middle-aged man walked past us with a large, black leather bag.

Ray nastily grinned wide and spoke.

“Hm, I've got an idea.”

∗∗∗

Thus, Ray and I walked brazenly, no, scratch that, Ray walked brazenly into the bank. Far from walking, I was folded neatly and properly like a house cat and was being transported while inside the bag Ray was holding.

‘Why was the bank open during the climax of the festival?'

Well, money is probably needed even if the world is split in half. That was only right. Humans would never stop their economic activities. Whether there was a festival or a storm, money will continue to flow.

“It's that guy! I'm certain of it!”

What was happening? I heard an urgent voice. A commotion followed along with the sound of guns reloading. I also heard the sound of people screaming and running away.

“Grab that grease head!”

Grease head. That was definitely referring to Ray.

The bag shook violently. Ray was running. However, it wasn't long before I felt the bag I was being carried in fall to the ground. Ray let out a heavy sigh.

“Help, Bill!”

What a crybaby. You can't die from normal causes anyway.

“Smelly, pot-bellied people are squis.h.i.+ng me!”

Mm, this is troubling.

“We're arresting you for the kidnapping of Aretha Franklin and robbing a bank!”

Hey?

Arrested? And what do you mean by robbing a bank? I haven't done anything yet.

My confusion took a moment to settle down.

“Where did the bounty hunter you were with and Miss Franklin go?”

“I don't know anything! I simply did what Bill ordered me to do!”

Trying to pa.s.s all of the blame off to me. Let's have a talk later, you backstabber.

Someone kicked the bag violently. While inside the bag, I was pushed a few feet away from Ray.

“Check the bag for weapons. I'm certain that he came here to rob the bank while everyone's preoccupied with the festival.”

Someone's hand grabbed the latch on top of the bag. The bag opened with ease. Should I quietly stay as a pile of money? In a brief moment, my fragmented consciousness in every single bill carried out parallel thought. What was the best method to get out of this c.r.a.ppy situation?

“Ow!”

The bag fell to the ground. A few dollar bills spilled out from the opening of the bag. I could tell that the guy who had screamed had staggered back through the vibrations and sound.

“Cut the c.r.a.p, Hardy.”

“Someone bit my hand!”

“How could that happen? Is there an animal in there or something?”

“Look at my hand. Do you not see the bite mark? I'm even bleeding!”

Someone approached the bag I was in again.

“Stop messing around. There's only money in the bag.”

The guy picked up the bag and held it open as he showed what was inside to the people around him. Of course, there were only bills inside.

“We'll keep this as evidence. We're going to have a big dinner tonight.”

“I'm not lying! Look at these teeth marks!”

“Sure. How bored were you to make you bite your own hand?!”

An internal conflict occurred. I took no responsibility.

“Wait! Something's off. Quick, close that bag! That's⎯”

Among all of the people, one of them seemed to be quick-witted. I see. So it was you.

“Don't get jealous just because someone else hit a windfall. I'll also buy you a beer later, so don't get your panties in a twist.”

“Idiot, that's not what⎯”

I lifted a portion of my Liquidation. My arm shot out like a burst of lightning from the opening of the bag and blocked the mouth of one of the a.s.sailants. To be exact, the gun in my right hand blocked his mouth.

I followed the person's voice as I reached my arm out. The barrel of my gun was pointed at the roof of his mouth. I pulled the trigger of my gun before he could drop the bag. A single bullet penetrated his head.

The bag that was supporting my right arm as it stood straight up like a memorial monument fell to the ground. My right arm was proud, so it didn't know how to bend. I turned my gun into money and absorbed it. After turning the palm of my hand towards the other people, I waved at them cheerfully. It's only common decency to greet others.

“······What are you all doing?! Shoot the bag! Shoot the d.a.m.n bag!”

It was that voice again. The voice that recognized Ray and realized I was in the bag. Despite the person's command, no one responded. They were most likely still bewildered. What a bunch of amateurs.

My upper body popped out from the opening of the bag. At the same time, my lower body pierced through the bottom of the bag. The black leather bag was wrapped around my lower body like a pair of diapers.

“Aah, I thought I would die from discomfort in there! Prepare to die⎯”

Once I split open the bag and got up, what entered my field of vision were 9 guns pointed at my groin.

“Shoot the bag!”

Hey, wait a second, gentlemen. As a man, isn't shooting another man there not a cool thing to do?

I quickly went behind the gunman known as Hardy, who had taken a step back, and grabbed him by the neck.

“This way!”

Bullets poured onto me. Hardy's plump body made for an efficient meat s.h.i.+eld. I turned my body into silver coins and threw Hardy's body at the center of all the gunmen.

This feat would have been impossible in my original body. My physical strength may be weak, but the power that was firmly holding together the money in my body was strong.

“Watch out!”

Standing way in the back, I saw the face of a gunman who had a splint on his leg. So it was you. The guy who got hit by the Grand Piano back in Sacramento. Good to see you again. I see you somehow managed to survive, huh? Our plan was ruined because you remembered Ray's face.

I chased after the corpse I had tossed.

“Liberty Head!”

My rapidly swung fist turned into a clump of gold right before it made contact. Each time a blunt sound that one wouldn't believe came from a fist resonated, a young man collapsed. The once boisterous bank lobby became quiet in an instant.

“It seems they considered the possibility that we would come here personally.”

Ray got up as he dusted his clothes. It was clear that they had set up a trap here and were waiting for us.

“How dare they try to stop me with only a few investigators and a sheriff. There's a limit to how much you can underestimate a person.”

“You sound like a robber and not a bounty hunter. It fits you.”

Ray commented sarcastically. On a side note, the walls have been creaking strangely for a while now. The dust constantly falling from the ceiling made it seem like···.

“I don't think they underestimated you. They're sincerely trying to take care of you as well. Look outside.”

I carefully approached the window and looked outside. A group of people that was incomparably larger than the mob that had surrounded us earlier was standing in a line a fair distance away from the bank with torches in their hands. To make matters worse, there were 5 horses with ropes tied to them, but that's not all, the other ends of the ropes were attached to the wall of the bank and the horses were pulling on them strongly.

It wasn't only this side. They were doing this on all four sides of the building at the same time. These people intended to collapse the building we were in and crush us to death.

The walls groaned louder and louder.

“d.a.m.n it.”

How did things end up like this? My unanswered question continued.

∗∗∗

“I feel bad for Rodney even though we've never met before.”

Aretha muttered as she ascended the stairs inside Rodney's solemn estate which looked down at the city of Omaha from on top of a hill.

“···.”

However, Rita didn't respond. Aretha examined the maid's expression once before continuing.

“Some random girl came out of nowhere and was chosen as the inheritor of the will. If it were me, then I would have definitely been mad.”

“···.”

Rita's reaction stayed the same even as Aretha continued.

Aretha pouted. She wanted to dispel her nervousness by having a friendly chat with a girl who was sort of in her age group, but Rita would only listen in silence, so Aretha couldn't establish a conversation.

“What do you think, Rita?”

Rita, who had been walking with her head down, had a look of surprise on her face as she seemed to panic because of Aretha's sudden question.

“I-I'm just a simple servant. It wouldn't be appropriate of me to act presumptuously and comment about the relations.h.i.+p between Young Master and Miss.”

Was the topic too heavy? Aretha thought. This place was Rodney's home. Furthermore, other employees kept walking by us. Aretha then realized that if someone were to overhear Rita making a statement about the Franklin family's sensitive issue, she might end up in a precarious situation afterward.

“······I've prepared some warm water and clothes.”

After ascending to the 2nd floor, Aretha and Rita arrived in front of a large door.

∗∗∗

Men were pulling corpses out from the rubble of the now collapsed bank. The corpses that were wearing the rings that signified one's affiliation with the Pinkerton Detective Agency were collected by other affiliated agents. The corpse that had a sheriff badge was taken away on a stretcher by other sheriffs. However, no one tried to mess with the giant marshmallow that stuck out like a sore thumb.

“How horrible.”

A man muttered as he gazed at the marshmallow. He wasn't referring to the corpses and the marshmallow. He was the branch manager of the bank. The rubble of the collapsed building was the greatest possible disaster for him.

Even if this was carried out on Rodney Franklin's whim, this was still the building he had worked at for the past 10 years. He was told that this had to be done in order to capture some terrible criminals, but he couldn't understand the logic behind bringing down a completely innocent building. The man kicked a corpse in front of him out of anger.

“This is···.”

The branch manager discovered that something was buried under a bunch of bricks next to the corpse. The corpse's right hand was holding on to it. The branch manager moved the bricks aside and checked what the item underneath was.

It was a sack. A gunny-sack with the One Nation Bank logo on it. Tellers would fill these sacks with money. The sack was stuffed.

Once he opened the sack, he saw that it was full of cash. The branch manager turned to look at the steel vault which was the only thing left undamaged from the collapse of the building. The lock was fine. However, the branch manager's face turned into a scowl. It was a reinforced vault that had become a Fund after being granted value. It's impossible to take money out from the vault unless you open the lock. Then where did the money in this bag come from?

“Ah!”

The branch manager gasped. After coming to the conclusion that the criminal must have used alchemy, the branch manager took the gunny-sack and ran to the vault. He used three of his keys in order to unlock the vault before grabbing the handle and spinning it open. The branch manager held his breath as he opened the vault.

“Phew.”

He let out a sigh of relief. There wasn't any visible difference in the pile of money that was in the vault compared to when he checked yesterday. If the robber had broken their way into the vault, then it would have been empty. He touched, bite, and licked the coins and bills. They weren't an illusion. There weren't any signs of the hundreds of personal vaults that filled one wall being opened either.

This was the vault he had opened every day for the past 10 years. The branch manager was confident that if there was even the smallest change in the contents of the vault, then he would notice it instantly. His customers' a.s.sets were safe. That was what his head was telling him.

“If that's the case, then···.”

The branch manager looked back and forth between the gunny-sack and the vault. There were at least 500 dollars in the sack. This was in no way a small sum. Did the corpses he saw earlier take this money out from the vault? It wasn't a small sum, but if it's this much, then it certainly wouldn't be that apparent if you take this much out from the vault.

The branch manager contemplated. This was easy money. The voice inside his head was whispering to him that it wouldn't be a problem if he took this money for himself.

But what if this money actually did come out from the vault? The branch manager's rationality warned him. It asked him whether he was going to throw away the decade he had spent gathering trust just for a couple hundred dollars.

The silence continued. The branch manager stopped thinking about it. He put the gunny-sack in the vault and closed the door. He took out his keychain and closed the lock. The vault was tightly shut once more.

The branch manager left with light steps. He was promised a long vacation until the building was restored. It was an unwanted vacation, but the thought of being able to spend time with his family again after a long time put a smile on his face and helped him move his heavy legs.

An arm ripping out of the gunny-sack from within the vault after he had left was a matter he would learn about much later.

∗∗∗

“Rita, can you explain this situation to me?”

A clear voice echoed throughout the reception room. There were many delicacies and flowers placed on top of a long table, but the air that flowed above them was boundlessly cold.

The gazes of the two siblings, who were seated at both ends of the long table, were locked on to each other. Once Aretha heard Rodney's little girl-like voice come from his muscular body, she began doubting her ears.

“My apologies, Young Master.”

Aretha groaned slightly as she saw Rodney's outfit.

Pink, pink, pink. Rodney was seated at the table and had been waiting for Aretha in a pink leotard.

He was wearing clothes that didn't fit his pretty, pure white face nor his muscular shoulders and thickly protruding clavicles. He had a voice that was so clear and high that if you were to close your eyes, you might even mistake him for a little girl, so this created an immense sense of disharmony.

It wasn't until after Aretha saw that Rodney came to the table without changing that she realized he didn't even think of her as a guest.

“I never asked you to apologize. Answer my question.”

When she brought the soup to her mouth, it tasted so bad that she almost spat it out, so she put down her spoon.

“My apologies, Young Master.”

Rita, who was standing next to Rodney, kept bowing her head. Rodney's eyes were fixed on Aretha and not Rita. It was clear that he intended to make Aretha uncomfortable by scolding his maid. Aretha didn't want to see Rita become a victim like this.

“Don't scold Rita too harshly. I'm the one who wanted this.”

Aretha spoke calmly. Rodney's eyebrows twitched.

“You should have told Aretha that there's a ‘dress code' you must follow if you're to have dinner in this estate. You're a bad child, Rita.”

Aretha thought that he was being ridiculous. It was illogical to ask a guest to follow the dress code of one's estate when they themselves were wearing an outfit that completely disregarded courtesy.

“Young Master, I···.”

“Why is my little sister sitting at the table wearing such shabby clothing?”

Rodney inquired in a venomous tone.

Although the table was filled with food, neither of them moved their tableware. Aretha started to regret following Rita. No matter how you looked at this, Rodney wasn't welcoming of her at all.

“I apologize.”

Rita continued to tremble. Aretha gave her a pitying look.

Before dinner, Aretha entered the dressing room the maids were waiting at after taking a shower. There were numerous dresses waiting for her there. Every single one of the evening dresses, which were made from expensive cloth, was pink.

Aretha didn't hesitate. She drove the maids to a corner and put on her original clothes again.

However, after putting the whispering maids behind her and coming out to the hall, Aretha regretted her choice after she saw Rita getting scolded because of her decision.

“I said I wanted to wear this. This is the one and only pair of clothes my mom handed down to me and I also made some improvements to it. I heard that dad gave these clothes to my mom as a gift, so I resolved myself to wear them today since it's an important occasion where I'm meeting my family for the first time.”

There was a delicate change in Rodney's expression when he heard the word ‘mom'.

“Pardon me. I was unaware.”

Rodney's tone became strangely formal. From the very beginning, Rodney never intended to welcome Aretha. Nevertheless, that didn't mean Aretha wanted to miss out on an opportunity to meet her family and talk with them for the first time.

“I heard that you came here from Sacramento, but you got here a lot faster than I expected. I thought it would be a while longer before you got here. I did hear that locomotives these days are using boilers that had been granted value, so they're a lot faster than before, but it seems those rumors really are true.”

Rodney changed the topic. To Aretha, those words sounded as if Rodney knew that the train she was on had been attacked.

“I'm not sure. I haven't ridden on trains that much.”

Regardless, Aretha did her best to not let her emotions show. She'll lose if she panics now. Aretha fixed her posture as she reminded herself that she was here to persuade Rodney.

For now, she had to figure out why Rodney called her here.

Aretha looked straight into Rodney's eyes.

“You're probably wondering why I called you here right about now.”

Rodney finally picked up his spoon. On the other hand, food must not have been on Aretha's mind as she stayed still.

“We're in similar positions. We're both an illegitimate child of the Franklin family.”

Rodney continued. Aretha was a little surprised that Rodney was initiating the conversation.

“My mother was unfortunate. She was kicked out when I was 3 years old.”

Aretha nodded. Kicking out wives that couldn't give birth to a daughter was one of the president's famous eccentricities.

“Even now, as an adult, I haven't been able to meet my mother. I don't know where she disappeared off to and I can't find her. I tried waiting for her to come looking for me, but that was pointless. Even now, I have no idea whether she's dead or alive.”

What was he getting at? Aretha thought. She couldn't read the thoughts that were hiding behind Rodney's well-groomed face.

“I want to hear about you and your mother. I want to find the reason why our father is trying to give all of the inheritance to you, an illegitimate child who has never stepped foot in the Franklin family household. I don't want to believe that he's giving you everything simply because you're a little special compared to the other siblings.”

Rodney paused for a moment as he waited to see Aretha's reaction.

Aretha was visibly perplexed. Judging from the fact that he had emphasized the word ‘special', it seemed like Rodney knew she was a Flasko.

“Tell me. How much did your mother suffer? How much did you suffer? At the very least, if our father is giving you all of the inheritance because of your hards.h.i.+p, then I feel like I could be understanding.”

Aretha pondered whether she should answer him or not. Rodney was smiling. Although he said he would be understanding if she told him, it was obvious that he was actually going to mock her by making her bring up her painful past.

After seeing Rodney's ridiculing smile, Aretha felt disgusted. A strong sense of denial that doubted whether she truly shared the same blood with this person constricted her insides.

I require consolation. Rodney added. There was a slightly broken smile on his lips. Aretha felt as if every hair on her body were standing up. She didn't want to respond to Rodney's nasty ulterior motive that wanted to obtain solace and a sense of superiority by looking at someone who was more unfortunate than him.

“Tell me that you didn't have everything. Tell me that you and your mother suffered. Tell me that you never received our father's love and never wanted it either.”

“Rodney···.”

There were visible veins popping out in the whites of Rodney's eyes.

“I'm jealous.”

Rodney stepped on his chair and pushed himself on top of the table. Rodney crawled like an animal towards Aretha. He moved his limbs while paying no concern to whether he crawled over food or drenched his white stockings in soup. A leotard wrapped around visibly protruding muscles approached her. He was like a pink panther.

Absolutely terrified, Aretha pushed her chair back.

“I feel like I'm going to go insane with jealousy. Why? Why do you always take everything? Why is our father trying to give you everything when he's never met you before? I don't understand. Are you that amazing?”

Rodney's face was so close to Aretha's that their noses were nearly touching. Rodney's breath pushed against Aretha's skin. She felt as if she could see the image of a cruel, savage beast appear on Rodney's face. It felt as if her anxiety was squeezing her intestines, so she even felt like throwing up.

“······Pardon me. I went a bit too far.”

The next moment, Rodney's face became expressionless as if nothing had happened. All Aretha could do was blink in bewilderment.

“Eat slowly so you don't choke on your food.”

Rodney licked the food that was smeared on his wrist and quietly hopped off the table with a sensual posture before quickly leaving the room with lofty steps.

“Miss!”

A panicked Rita approached Aretha. Aretha drank the cup of water which Rita offered to her.

“I'm sorry. It seems Young Master Rodney is very agitated right now.”

“I think I should come back to talk when Rodney is feeling better. I'll take my leave for now. Thanks, Rita.”

Aretha stood up. Her body felt strangely heavy.

“I'll send someone to bring your companions.”

“No, it's fine.”

Aretha put her hand on her forehead. Her mind felt dull, so she couldn't think of anything. Aretha's lowered line of sight stopped at Rita's feet.

“We've prepared a room, so you can rest there tonight if you're tired···.”

“No, it's okay.”

Rita supported Aretha as she stumbled. She was walking as if she were going to pa.s.s out at any moment. Aretha scratched her head.

“Is he suffering because of me?”

“······.”

Aretha thought about her mom. Her father didn't throw her mom out. Her mom left her father. She told Aretha that it was for Aretha's sake. Aretha had lived her entire life not fully understanding what her mom meant by those words. Why did her father make her the heiress? Because she was a Flasko. That was the first reason that came to her head.

Aretha went back to the first question. Her mom had left her father for the sake of her daughter, Aretha. The only reason her father called out to Aretha after having tossed her aside until then, was because she was a Flasko.

Did her mom leave her father in order to protect her daughter, a Flasko?

Questions kept swirling around inside of Aretha's head.

“Aah, my head hurts.”

“Are you all right?”

Sleek and s.h.i.+ny black shoes. There was a silver b.u.t.terfly placed on top of Rita's small feet.

“I don't know. I feel dizzy.”

She had spat those words out without any thought. She kept breathing heavily because she felt as if her head were going to explode. Aretha started to babble as if she had a fever.

“Hey, I really wanted to get along with Rodney. He's the first blood relative I've met since my mom. But why have things turned out like this?”

Rita didn't respond. She only supported Aretha's body in silence. Once Aretha couldn't endure the dizziness any longer and lowered her head, Rita's shoes entered her field of vision once more.

“Ah, b.u.t.terflies.”

For an instant, it felt as if the wings of the b.u.t.terflies moved ever so slightly.

“Your shoes are really pret⎯”

Before Aretha could even finish her sentence, she fell to the floor weakly. Rita got down on her knees and whispered into Aretha's ear.

“They are, aren't they? My mother handed them down to me.”

Aretha couldn't hear the response given to her by Rita who was looking down at her coldly.

TL Note: Thanks for reading the chapter. I managed to squeeze this out while studying for all of my midterm exams and preparing for my presentations/a.s.signments.

I don't really have much to say this time since I'm still busy, so I'll keep this note short. I've been thinking about what I wanted to do after I finish translating this volume, and I've decided to go back to translating Handholding once I finish. I honestly do want to finish that series. I'm not going to abandon this series. I just want to prioritize things. I did leave Handholding on quite the big cliffhanger, after all.