Re: In My Bloody Hit Novel-Chapter 697: Gathering Information On The Elf

...Chiron sighed internally as he shook his head, pitying the merman in his mind.

Even with a veil, Emma's beauty and allure simply couldn't be hidden.

It wasn't just about her face. The way she carried herself, the way her robes clung to her curves, and the way she moved with effortless grace—it all combined into something irresistible.

Even a blind man could tell she was stunning.

At this point, Chiron was convinced that even if she draped herself in a full blanket, men would still be drawn to her.

Behind the counter, the barman—a middle-aged human man—watched the scene unfold.

He was ordinary-looking, with a bristly mustache that curled slightly at the ends. His dark brown hair was thick, slightly unkempt, and flecked with streaks of gray. He had broad shoulders, but a bit of a belly, the kind that came from years of tasting the drinks he served.

His eyes, though, were sharp—the kind that had seen too many bar fights start over foolishness like this.

As he wiped the inside of a wooden mug, he finally spoke up, his voice carrying a peculiar local accent, thick with the speech patterns of the island folk.

"Caspian," he said, addressing the merman by name. "Don't go botherin' the new couple, now."

Caspian—still leering at Emma—snorted, but grinned at the bartender.

"Ahh, I see how it is," Caspian said, rolling his shoulders. "Yer chasin' me off 'cause ya think I ain't good enough for her, eh? Can't blame ya, really. When a man sees somethin' this divine, he's gotta stop and admire."

The barman shook his head, muttering under his breath.

"No, Caspian. I ain't warnin' ya for her sake. I'm warnin' ya for yours."

Before the bartender could emphasize his point, Chiron suddenly spoke up.

But instead of defending Emma, as everyone expected, he turned to her and smiled lightly.

"Emma," he said, his voice smooth. "Why don't you accompany this handsome gentleman? Make sure he has a good time."

Even Caspian—who had been brimming with confidence—looked stunned.

Emma, however, simply bowed her head gracefully.

"As you command, master."

Then, to the absolute shock of the room, she gently took Caspian's hand and began leading him toward the exit.

The barman shook his head in pity, just as Chiron had earlier.

Meanwhile, many of the men in the bar were envious, whispering among themselves, wondering why they hadn't approached Emma first.

Caspian, despite his initial surprise, grinned broadly as he followed Emma outside, convinced that he had just won the jackpot.

The Real Reason for Chiron's Visit

As the door swung shut, the barman turned back to Chiron, eyeing him carefully.

"A distinguished man like yourself," he said, resting his elbows on the counter. "What's someone like you doin' in a place like this?"

Chiron met his gaze calmly, his expression unreadable.

"I came looking for information," he answered.

Then, without another word, he placed a red beast core on the counter, but did so tactically—in a way that only the barman could see.

The barman's eyes glinted for a brief moment as he saw the red beast core on the counter.

He let out a low whistle, before grinning and leaning forward, placing both hands on the wooden bar top.

"Heh, now that's a real pretty sight," he muttered, his accent thick and rolling like the waves.

He wiped his hands on his apron before picking up a fresh mug and pouring a dark, frothy liquid into it.

"Lemme tell ya somethin', stranger. Me? I ain't just some simple barkeep, nah. My father? Born on this island. His father? Same. An' his father's father's father, all the way back to me tenth great-grandpappy—been here since the day the God of the Beard of the Sea pulled this island up from the depths, givin' it to us folk.

Ain't nothin' that happens here that I don't know 'bout."

He tapped a finger against his temple, his grin widening.

"Hell, I'd even know if the sun decided not to shine come mornin'."

Chiron listened patiently, nodding slightly at the man's words.

Then, he leaned in, lowering his voice to a mere whisper.

"I'm looking for… an elf."

The barman's grin dropped.

His eyes widened slightly, and he immediately turned his head left and right, as if making sure no one else had heard.

Then, he gave a small nod and placed the freshly poured drink in front of Chiron before leaning in as well.

His voice dropped to a near whisper, his usual boisterous tone hushed and careful.

"Hate to break it to ya, but whatever information ya be lookin' for—it ain't here no more."

Chiron tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

The barman continued, lowering his voice even further.

"Firstly, elves? Hated 'round the world, they are. Ever since the last great war that tore up the lands and seas alike. Folks don't take kindly to 'em, y'see."

He shook his head.

"Secondly, there was a time—aye, a long time ago—when an elf did stay here. But lemme tell ya, stranger… his presence? It was a damn curse on this place."

Chiron's fingers lightly tapped against the counter as he listened.

The barman sighed, glancing briefly at the bar's entrance before speaking again.

"Pirates came huntin' him, aye. Some for revenge, some 'cause the Holy Church was offerin' good coin for 'is head. It got bad, real bad. Then, just like that—he was gone. Vanished. No one knows when or how he left, but…"

He tapped a finger on the bar.

"…I do.

Chiron nodded slowly, processing the information.

Then, he spoke again.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

"And what if he never left?"

The barman stiffened slightly.

His bushy eyebrows furrowed as he considered the thought.

"…Possible," he admitted after a moment. "But if he's still hidin' here, he'd be real old by now. Real damn old."

Chiron rubbed his chin thoughtfully before asking another question.

"Who are the oldest people in this town?"

The barman exhaled, scratching at his mustache.

"That'd be two folk. First? The old mayor. Second? The chief priest of the God of the Beard of the Sea."

He glanced at Chiron, his expression knowing.

"But I'll warn ya now, stranger. Meetin' either of 'em? That ain't gonna be easy. An' I'll tell ya this for free—yer gonna need more than a red beast core to make it happen."

Chiron's expression remained calm, but inside, he was already formulating his next steps.

The barman continued, holding up two fingers.

"First, the mayor? Folk barely see him. Been so long, some don't even remember what he looks like."

He lowered one finger.

"Second, the chief priest? Even harder. Seein' his face? Forbidden."

Chiron gave a slight nod, fully understanding the obstacles ahead.

But he also knew time wasn't on his side.

He needed answers.

"And if I needed to meet both?" he asked.

The barman smirked, rubbing his thumb and fingers together—a universal gesture for payment.

Chiron said nothing.

Instead, in a fluid, precise motion, he discreetly slipped a blue beast core into the man's hand.

The barman's smirk widened, and he nodded approvingly.

Then, he leaned forward again, speaking in a low, satisfied tone.

"Lucky for ya, stranger. There's a festival happenin' in a few days."

He tapped the counter once.

"If ya play yer cards right, ya just might get to see the priest. Maybe even the mayor..."