Chapter 17. How to Live

Ralpido, publicly, is the operator of Livre Bookstore. Of course, she uses another name and often acts through intermediaries.

Her real trade, however, is information. Beyond that, she handles identity laundering, document forgery, and more. She’s the best in the republic when it comes to skill.

Her reputation for valuing loyalty and prioritizing client confidentiality was one of the reasons I chose her.

Information dealing may revolve around intangible goods, but at its core, it’s a people business. Reliable sources bring in high-quality intel, and it’s usually the elite who buy it—those who can’t afford to let the fact that they purchased information become public knowledge. These same clients sometimes “leak” information strategically as well.

Ralpido understood this delicate balance and turned it to her advantage. Her information was not only precise but also trustworthy, providing clients with peace of mind.

This much I already knew from ‘Bitten by a Mad Dog’.

What I hadn’t expected was this:

“I’ll count to three. If you don’t get out, I’ll pop your precious jewels.”

“And here I thought there was a limit to what a girl could say.”

That’s right.

Ralpido was a woman.

“If you didn’t add anything to my being a ‘girl,’ how about you hold your tongue before I cut it off?”

“Pop this, cut that. Do you think you’re the queen of destruction?”

“Damn right. I’m your great-grandmother, the queen of destruction, you little punk.”

“This is unbelievable…”

“Three—two—two-and-a-half, two-and-a-quar—”

“Hi, my name is Myrda.”

I interjected, stepping forward with a polite greeting.

“Oh, so it ‘can’ talk.”

Ralpido quipped, raising a skeptical eyebrow. Her tone scolded me for not introducing myself sooner.

Still, I’d assumed Yona would handle the introductions. The novel had described them as long-time close friends, but nothing had hinted they bickered like mortal enemies.

“For a second, I thought that pervert had picked up a pretty automaton.”

“Ignore her, witch. Half of what this one says is nonsense anyway,” Yona said nonchalantly.

Ralpido, apparently unimpressed, grabbed a paperweight and hurled it at him. Yona, accustomed to such exchanges, barely flinched and deftly used a minor spell to transform the heavy glass into a yellow canary. It flitted away and perched on a bookshelf.

“Let me give you a tip, miss. All mages are bastards.”

Including Mine Molière, technically speaking. This wasn’t off to a great start.

❖　❖　❖

The endless bickering between Yona and Ralpido was interrupted by the bookstore employee who had guided us here. She entered with a tray carrying clear liquor and a dish of caviar.

Ralpido’s sharp gaze softened at once. Sinking into a long, low couch, she gestured for us to sit.

“My apologies for the rudeness. I shouldn’t have kept a guest standing,” she said.

“Have a seat,” Yona added.

“That’s my line as the host. The lady may sit. You, stay standing,” Ralpido snapped.

Ignoring her, Yona plopped onto the opposite sofa, crossing his legs.

“Excuse me.”

I said, seating myself at a cautious distance from him. The couch was so plush I felt like I was sinking into a cloud.

“By principle, I don’t meet new clients alone. But since this stubborn pervert vouched for you, I’ll make an exception.”

Their odd friendship shone in that moment. Yona, grumbling about being called a stubborn pervert, only puckered his lips in mild protest.

“But this won’t be free.”

“I’ll cash in the favor I’m owed,” Yona said flatly.

“You’re using ‘that’? What are you, dating her or something?”

“Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Just to be clear, that clears your debt,” Ralpido pressed.

“A mage doesn’t go back on their word.”

The employee produced a parchment from a drawer. Yona blew gently on it, and the paper dissolved into blue flames, crumbling to ash. I glanced at him, worried.

“…This won’t cause you any trouble, will it?”

“You’re selling the jar and providing blood. This is nothing.”

The sound of ice clinking in a glass filled the room as Ralpido poured herself a drink, downing it in one swift motion.

“All right, pretty lady. What exactly do you need?”

Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I answered.

“I want to start a new life as Myrda.”

“Ah, identity laundering. That’s our specialty. Any specific requirements?”

“I don’t need to be a noble. A surname isn’t necessary either.”

“Relatively simple. Anything else?”

“Anything… else?”

“Like family relations, place of birth, age—details like that.”

I hadn’t thought about it in such depth. Fidgeting with the hem of my skirt, I hesitated. Ralpido, as if expecting this, leaned back with her arms crossed and laughed lightly.

“If it’s too much trouble, we can fill in the blanks for you. But think about it—this is a chance to start over. It’s not every day you get to decide who you’ll be in a brand-new life. Don’t you think it’s worth taking the time to choose for yourself?”

“Ah…”

‘It was true.’

The question of how to live felt oddly familiar, like the kind of reflection one might indulge in at the start of a new school term or the beginning of a new year.

Before my possession, I had been timid by nature. Every March, I’d resolve to be more outgoing, to take the initiative and approach people first. While I rarely kept those promises, imagining the person I wanted to become had always been a meaningful exercise.

“All right, to fuel your imagination, take a shot of this.”

Ralpido said, pushing a glass toward me.

“You won’t find this stuff just anywhere.”

Resolute, I nodded and grabbed the glass. The cold surface felt pleasant against my palm.

“Don’t.”

Yona interjected, sounding exasperated. “You’ll end up passed out before you even start imagining anything.”

Ralpido smirked.

“Aw, what’s this? Are you her boyfriend or something? Look at how worried you are—”

“If she collapses, I’ll have to carry her!”

“She’s so skinny you could carry her with one hand.”

“Show-off.”

“I could do push-ups while carrying her on my back.”

Ignoring their banter, I squeezed my eyes shut and swallowed the drink in one go. The alcohol burned like molten lava, searing my throat and nostrils as it went down.

“Ack! Cough, cough!”

“Haha! You did it! Now, try this.”

Ralpido exclaimed, popping a spoonful of caviar into my mouth before I could protest.

Yona, grumbling, had already poured a glass of water and was holding it out to me.

“Cough, cough… argh!”

“How do you feel? Like your brain’s on fire? Like it’s spinning faster already?”

“You idiot.”

Yona muttered. “If her brain’s on fire, how’s it supposed to spin?”

“Shut up.”

Despite their bickering, I did feel a jolt of clarity. My body was already heating up, and I’d only had one drink. Rubbing my nose, I began speaking slowly.

“My parents… and I have a younger brother.”

“Both parents still alive?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. My chest tightened, and tears threatened to well up.

“Yes… Both are healthy. My brother, too. Like any family, we argue sometimes, but we love each other deeply. On cold winter days, if one of us sees a cart selling fish-shaped buns, we’ll buy them for everyone, thinking of each other.”

“Fish-shaped buns? And what’s a cart?”

Ralpido murmured, only for Yona to hiss at her to be quiet.

The atmosphere had turned strangely somber.

“I’m twenty-five years old. I just started working, and because my workplace is far from home, I’m looking for a place to live on my own… It wasn’t my dream job, but I was happy to feel like a proper adult. I used to spend every day thinking about what gift to buy for my family with my first paycheck…”

“Hold on.”

Ralpido raised a hand, her expression tinged with surprise.

“Let me offer some advice. If you want to avoid scrutiny during a background check, it’s safer to say you’re an orphan.”

“…”

“Why are you killing off her parents?”

Yona snapped, glaring at her.

Ralpido shrugged nonchalantly.

“I didn’t expect such a sweet story. Most people just cut ties with family altogether when creating a new identity.”

“Let’s just say I’m an orphan.”

I said bitterly, deciding not to linger on it. I moved on to details like my place of birth and other specifics.

Ralpido took the parchment where her assistant had been jotting down my words, added a few notes of her own, and handed it back to the assistant.

“Is it done now?”

“One last thing.”

“Oh, about payment…”

“I can’t give you a price until the estimate’s done.”

“Then what is it?”

“Just a simple question. A routine part of the process.”

Ralpido looked me straight in the eye, her gaze unsettlingly piercing. For the first time, I truly saw her face. She had heterochromia—one eye a vivid green, the other a stark white, almost like it lacked an iris altogether. The contrast was both eerie and mesmerizing.

“What do you plan to do with this new identity?”

“…”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You can lie if you prefer.”

“Hmph. She just enjoys listening to other people’s stories,” Yona muttered, clearly annoyed. I gave him a faint smile before turning back to Ralpido.

“I plan to enroll in the Old Royal Academy.”

“Hah? Enroll as a commoner? Do you think the Academy’s some neighborhood shop? Why didn’t you stop her?”

“I’m hearing this for the first time too.”

Their reactions were expected. Getting into the Academy as a commoner was almost impossible. But with the right letter of recommendation from someone influential, the odds shifted. I intended to secure one.

“I have a way,” I replied calmly.

“Heh, interesting girl. I’ll be watching.”

“And… also…”

“Hm? Is there more?”

“…I think I’m going to throw up.”

With that, I collapsed onto Yona’s lap.