Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
It also implied that Kieman believed the tale of the wolf bones to be utter folly.
"Still, I must wonder at what history led you to do business with her. Here in this town, there are many who wish to deal with her, but she's utterly unapproachable. I'm sure anyone who can get a favorable response from her will do well..."
Of course, he would wonder at it.
If Eve was so important, the trade guild would have to be scheming to get involved with her.
"I did nothing. She approached me, and only now am I starting to understand why."
"Oh?"
"She ingratiated herself with the headmen, used them, profited, and then was unable to pay them back. Or perhaps she simply didn't want to. It was none other than Eve who was clashing with the south side's coin purse mercenaries."
Kieman was once again surprised, and perhaps unconsciously trying to hide it, he stroked his face and nodded.
"I was truly deceived in my dealings in Lenos. I'd wagered not only the money I'd raised by selling my precious companion into hock, but also my own life. And in the end—well, the knives and hatchets came out, but the reason I think she pulled me into the deal was that by that time, the only person she could deceive and use was a traveling merchant like me."
When he thought about it that way, that was probably also why the slave-trading house so easily lent him the money to buy the furs.
That was just how highly Eve's name was valued.
"I see...That does seem likely. I must admit I'm rather...envious that you could ask for her help even after knives and hatchets had come out."
Impressed at how well chosen those words were, Lawrence nodded and answered. "True colors come out when you squabble like children over a purse full of coin. I don't know that Eve and I are friends exactly, but we do share some embarrassing memories, let's say."
That was not the complete truth, but it was not far from it.
Whether or not Kieman understood, he closed his eyes and nodded, putting his index finger to his temple as if thinking on something.
As someone responsible for a trade guild branch, he would not find himself involved in such brutal dealings.
Lawrence was feeling something of a mix of envy and a vague sense of superiority when Kieman suddenly looked up.
"Understood. Now, then—"
"Yes?" answered Lawrence innocently, and then—
"Eve Bolan or the trade guild—which is your priority?"
This was the very definition of being thrown from one's stride.
For a moment, Lawrence no longer understood who was in front of him.
But that was not because of his own surprise. There was a different reason for his sudden confusion.
Kieman's affect had changed entirely.
Lawrence felt a cold sweat instantly break out on his back.
Up until that moment, he had simply thought that they were making small talk about Eve, but he was suddenly wondering if he had been seriously mistaken.
He thought he would be able to gather some information and call it a day.
That was not the case.
"Well...the guild, of course," Lawrence managed to answer, and Kieman looked away without as much as nodding.
His brusque manner was just as it had been when Lawrence approached the counter and put the five trenni down.
Lawrence had been played.
And so unbelievably easily, too.
"In that case, I'm expecting you to behave in a manner befitting a member of this guild. Human connections are assets—they are capital. And large business requires large capital," said Kieman with a brilliant smile.
His tone was pleasant, but it had a forceful finality to it.
Lawrence should not have let his guard down.
He had completely misjudged Eve's importance, as well.
As a result, he had been cornered by Kieman into promising to put the trade guild first.
It made Lawrence feel incredibly uncomfortable, as if he had just been forced to sign a contract without reading it—and this feeling was no illusion.
"Eve was only just in a difficult place without anywhere to turn, you see," said Kieman casually, as though he were making small talk.

Output:
He had to expect something humiliating or at least partially so; otherwise there was no telling what they would use him for, thought Lawrence. He was about to open his mouth to speak, when—
"Mr. Kieman! Mr. Kieman!" came a voice from outside the room, accompanied by hurried footsteps.
Next there was an urgent knock at the door, and Kieman's name was again called out.
Something had happened.
But Kieman only sipped his now-cool soup, entirely unruffled.
"But I've taken too much of your time. It seems I have other business to attend to, so if you'll excuse me."
He stood and walked toward the door.
A dazed Lawrence watched him leave, having completely lost the opportunity to speak further, when Kieman suddenly stopped and looked back. "Ah, yes—"
His manner was that of an actor required to perform constantly for a very discerning audience.
"—If you speak of this to anyone else..."
Kieman opened the door and listened to the whisper of the frantic-looking guild employee, giving a short nod without changing his expression.
Though they might lack wolf ears or tails, there are people in the world every bit the terrifying equal of the gods and spirits.
Lawrence felt it.
"...You'll surely regret it," Kieman finished, regarding Lawrence with a pleasant merchant's smile.
The guild house was in an uproar, like unto a kicked hornet's nest.
Merchants were coming through the front door, approaching the first-floor counter, leaving letters, and heading back out.
At that moment, if one wanted to know what was happening in Kerube, there was probably no better place to be than inside a trade house.
But as Lawrence watched Kieman work, he wasn't thinking about the current crisis at all.
He was still preoccupied with the conversation he had just had.
While Lawrence's calm face made it seem like he was attempting to discern what was happening in the town just as all the other merchants were, inside he was full of dread.
Kieman was trying to accomplish something using Lawrence's connection to Eve. Lawrence had thought to use Eve as bait to draw information out of Kieman, but he had wound up getting snared himself.
Meanwhile, he felt as though the mood in the clamorous first floor of the trade house had changed.
Lawrence looked up and saw a familiar face peering in at him through the open front door.
It was Holo, whom he had told to meet with him back at the inn when her work was done.
"May I help you?" asked a hairy merchant who was standing next to the door, probably thinking she was a nun on pilgrimage who had lost track of her companion.
Holo seemed to consider how to answer for a moment but soon noticed Lawrence standing up from his chair.
"Excuse me, she's an acquaintance of mine."
There were many merchants who served the food and supply lines of knight companies and mercenaries, and if a group on pilgrimage were sufficiently well funded, it was not unheard of for them to have merchants that served in similar capacities.
Lawrence spoke up without any particular urgency, so the other merchants in the room simply assumed that was what he was.
Their slightly envious gazes were probably because of his being connected to such a profitable-looking customer.
The only exception was Kieman.
Lawrence felt the man's gaze on his back as he left with Holo.
Though things outside seemed unchanged, looking closer, Lawrence noticed merchants and messengers carrying letters hurriedly to and from the trade house branches, red faced and rushed.
"What happened?" Lawrence asked as they walked slowly through the lively marketplace.
"With the town suddenly in such an uproar, I can hardly leave you on your own."
"What do you mean?" he was about to reply, but as someone thoroughly involved in things, he found he could not object.
And there was no denying that they were getting involved.
"So, did you find anything out?" Lawrence asked, feigning composure.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
He had to expect something humiliating or at least partially so; otherwise there was no telling what they would use him for, thought Lawrence. He was about to open his mouth to speak, when—
"Mr. Kieman! Mr. Kieman!" came a voice from outside the room, accompanied by hurried footsteps.
Next there was an urgent knock at the door, and Kieman's name was again called out.
Something had happened.
But Kieman only sipped his now-cool soup, entirely unruffled.
"But I've taken too much of your time. It seems I have other business to attend to, so if you'll excuse me."
He stood and walked toward the door.
A dazed Lawrence watched him leave, having completely lost the opportunity to speak further, when Kieman suddenly stopped and looked back. "Ah, yes—"
His manner was that of an actor required to perform constantly for a very discerning audience.
"—If you speak of this to anyone else..."
Kieman opened the door and listened to the whisper of the frantic-looking guild employee, giving a short nod without changing his expression.
Though they might lack wolf ears or tails, there are people in the world every bit the terrifying equal of the gods and spirits.
Lawrence felt it.
"...You'll surely regret it," Kieman finished, regarding Lawrence with a pleasant merchant's smile.
The guild house was in an uproar, like unto a kicked hornet's nest.
Merchants were coming through the front door, approaching the first-floor counter, leaving letters, and heading back out.
At that moment, if one wanted to know what was happening in Kerube, there was probably no better place to be than inside a trade house.
But as Lawrence watched Kieman work, he wasn't thinking about the current crisis at all.
He was still preoccupied with the conversation he had just had.
While Lawrence's calm face made it seem like he was attempting to discern what was happening in the town just as all the other merchants were, inside he was full of dread.
Kieman was trying to accomplish something using Lawrence's connection to Eve. Lawrence had thought to use Eve as bait to draw information out of Kieman, but he had wound up getting snared himself.
Meanwhile, he felt as though the mood in the clamorous first floor of the trade house had changed.
Lawrence looked up and saw a familiar face peering in at him through the open front door.
It was Holo, whom he had told to meet with him back at the inn when her work was done.
"May I help you?" asked a hairy merchant who was standing next to the door, probably thinking she was a nun on pilgrimage who had lost track of her companion.
Holo seemed to consider how to answer for a moment but soon noticed Lawrence standing up from his chair.
"Excuse me, she's an acquaintance of mine."
There were many merchants who served the food and supply lines of knight companies and mercenaries, and if a group on pilgrimage were sufficiently well funded, it was not unheard of for them to have merchants that served in similar capacities.
Lawrence spoke up without any particular urgency, so the other merchants in the room simply assumed that was what he was.
Their slightly envious gazes were probably because of his being connected to such a profitable-looking customer.
The only exception was Kieman.
Lawrence felt the man's gaze on his back as he left with Holo.
Though things outside seemed unchanged, looking closer, Lawrence noticed merchants and messengers carrying letters hurriedly to and from the trade house branches, red faced and rushed.
"What happened?" Lawrence asked as they walked slowly through the lively marketplace.
"With the town suddenly in such an uproar, I can hardly leave you on your own."
"What do you mean?" he was about to reply, but as someone thoroughly involved in things, he found he could not object.
And there was no denying that they were getting involved.
"So, did you find anything out?" Lawrence asked, feigning composure.

Output:
Ignoring her baiting words, Lawrence replied only to the substantive part of her statement. "They sent you off? Out of the church?"
"Aye. I wondered if some great demon had appeared in the town to threaten the church..."
Lawrence had to laugh at the seriousness with which this statement came. "That would've been a calamity, indeed...but I do wonder what it was that involves the Church."
"Once I was cast out of the church, I thought I would try to track the disturbance, but there was such a crowd that there was naught for it—not to mention the many men with swords and spears."
"Soldiers?"
"Aye. All I could tell was that they were carrying something precious from the river, and it seemed they went into the church. It was a terrific uproar. Indeed, and that lad who wanted to make me his bride—when was it again?—he was there."
"Back in Kumersun." Lawrence made a pained face, not wanting to be reminded of such things. Holo chuckled.
But if something similar to that happened now, Lawrence doubted it would be as much of a crisis.
For one thing, even if it did, he was closer to Holo now than he had been back then.
He could tell that Holo was bringing it up partially out of a sense of nostalgia.
"But what would happen to raise such a fuss?" wondered Lawrence.
"You may ask, but I have no answer. Even listening carefully to the crowds, I couldn't make sense of it at all. I decided 'twould be better to return to you for the nonce."
"Huh," Lawrence murmured, trying to piece together what he had heard earlier at the trade house. "According to what they were saying when I arrived, it seems a ship from the north side was being towed by a ship from a company on the south side, but I assumed it was just talk of internal politics."
Holo seemed not to understand and regarded Lawrence the way she did when she thought she was being teased.
"Explain it so I can understand," her expression said.
"The north and south sides of this town are in conflict, right? But they can't draw lines in the ocean. When the fish head north, they fish in the north, and when the fish are south, they go south. Whenever there's fishing in rivers, lakes, or oceans, issues of territory are always a source of strife. That's what I thought they were talking about. You'd hardly think that a trading company in the south would be so taken by a north-side fishing vessel out on the ocean that they'd buy it up on the spot, would you?"
Holo slowly nodded, as if vaguely understanding this talk of territory.
"But for them to tow a north-side ship in and bring ashore something that required armed escort, and for that to be the work of the Church instead of a trading company, it makes me wonder if they really caught a mermaid or something."
"A mermaid?" Holo asked, her head tilted curiously.
Surprisingly, she seemed not to know what one was.
"They're a kind of legendary creature. The sea immediately next to us is known as the Winfiel Strait, but around its northern mouth is a reef where there were constant shipwrecks. And there's an old legend about them, that women with voices of unearthly beauty sing enchanted songs from that reef, causing sailors to lose their way and wreck their ships upon the rocks. And those sailors who wonder what beautiful women are doing on the wave-pounded reefs soon have their questions answered—the mermaids are human from the waist up, but below that, they have the tails of fish."
Holo listened to the story, seeming honestly impressed.
It was not as if she were unfamiliar with the sea, but somehow she seemed never to have heard of mermaids.
If Holo had not heard of them, perhaps they really were nothing but a superstition, thought Lawrence.
Holo nodded and spoke. "Human males surely are easy to fool."
It was true that old stories and legends were full of men being tricked by all sorts of spirits.
But Lawrence had sparred with Holo many times before and had a few choice words to counterattack with.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Ignoring her baiting words, Lawrence replied only to the substantive part of her statement. "They sent you off? Out of the church?"
"Aye. I wondered if some great demon had appeared in the town to threaten the church..."
Lawrence had to laugh at the seriousness with which this statement came. "That would've been a calamity, indeed...but I do wonder what it was that involves the Church."
"Once I was cast out of the church, I thought I would try to track the disturbance, but there was such a crowd that there was naught for it—not to mention the many men with swords and spears."
"Soldiers?"
"Aye. All I could tell was that they were carrying something precious from the river, and it seemed they went into the church. It was a terrific uproar. Indeed, and that lad who wanted to make me his bride—when was it again?—he was there."
"Back in Kumersun." Lawrence made a pained face, not wanting to be reminded of such things. Holo chuckled.
But if something similar to that happened now, Lawrence doubted it would be as much of a crisis.
For one thing, even if it did, he was closer to Holo now than he had been back then.
He could tell that Holo was bringing it up partially out of a sense of nostalgia.
"But what would happen to raise such a fuss?" wondered Lawrence.
"You may ask, but I have no answer. Even listening carefully to the crowds, I couldn't make sense of it at all. I decided 'twould be better to return to you for the nonce."
"Huh," Lawrence murmured, trying to piece together what he had heard earlier at the trade house. "According to what they were saying when I arrived, it seems a ship from the north side was being towed by a ship from a company on the south side, but I assumed it was just talk of internal politics."
Holo seemed not to understand and regarded Lawrence the way she did when she thought she was being teased.
"Explain it so I can understand," her expression said.
"The north and south sides of this town are in conflict, right? But they can't draw lines in the ocean. When the fish head north, they fish in the north, and when the fish are south, they go south. Whenever there's fishing in rivers, lakes, or oceans, issues of territory are always a source of strife. That's what I thought they were talking about. You'd hardly think that a trading company in the south would be so taken by a north-side fishing vessel out on the ocean that they'd buy it up on the spot, would you?"
Holo slowly nodded, as if vaguely understanding this talk of territory.
"But for them to tow a north-side ship in and bring ashore something that required armed escort, and for that to be the work of the Church instead of a trading company, it makes me wonder if they really caught a mermaid or something."
"A mermaid?" Holo asked, her head tilted curiously.
Surprisingly, she seemed not to know what one was.
"They're a kind of legendary creature. The sea immediately next to us is known as the Winfiel Strait, but around its northern mouth is a reef where there were constant shipwrecks. And there's an old legend about them, that women with voices of unearthly beauty sing enchanted songs from that reef, causing sailors to lose their way and wreck their ships upon the rocks. And those sailors who wonder what beautiful women are doing on the wave-pounded reefs soon have their questions answered—the mermaids are human from the waist up, but below that, they have the tails of fish."
Holo listened to the story, seeming honestly impressed.
It was not as if she were unfamiliar with the sea, but somehow she seemed never to have heard of mermaids.
If Holo had not heard of them, perhaps they really were nothing but a superstition, thought Lawrence.
Holo nodded and spoke. "Human males surely are easy to fool."
It was true that old stories and legends were full of men being tricked by all sorts of spirits.
But Lawrence had sparred with Holo many times before and had a few choice words to counterattack with.

Output:
Lawrence was well aware that Holo was disposed to prefer a mild sunbeam to a violent gambling den.
After flicking her ears for a few moments beneath her hood, Holo spoke in a mischievous tone. "Aye, well, we enjoy our wine as well. Still," she continued, smiling, "have you sworn to the God of the Church not to fall into their trap and not to fall into this one?"
"Huh?"
"I'm asking if you have anything to hide."
"Gah—" Lawrence could not help himself from muttering, as Holo had once again struck at his inability to hide anything from her.
He had wanted to organize his thoughts more thoroughly before talking to Holo, but he told her everything about his exchange with Kieman.
"You fool."
Lawrence wanted to protest that Kieman barely seemed human, but he knew that was no excuse.
Holo's tone as she continued seemed unconcerned. "If it was such an unreasonable demand, why didn't you simply refuse?"
When she said it like that, it sounded almost possible, which was a terrifying illusion.
But Lawrence soon regained his composure and scratched his head.
Merchants preferred to have contracts on paper, but before committing a promise to writing, they would use a verbal contract.
And its meaning was weighty indeed.
"Dozens, hundreds of merchants are members of the Rowen Trade Guild, including some who earn thousands of lumione in a year. It is nothing less than an entity that could squash me without a second thought. No matter what favor they might ask of me, I cannot refuse it. Absurd, you might think—but that is part of why promises are always kept."
Even in the Church city of Ruvinheigen, when Lawrence was facing utter ruin and the possibility of life on a slave ship—even then he did not consider betraying the guild.
Trading companies were thus powerful allies and fearsome enemies, knights who wielded the pen and the coin.
"Hmph. Well, I suppose 'tis true that a youngster can hardly disobey a veteran."
"You see?"
"Aye. But still, those in such position often have too much to lose and cannot risk bold moves. You wish to use your acquaintance with that vixen to accomplish something, but with others involved, perhaps they fear the trouble it might cause and thus threaten you."
If the problem was that one tended to be controlled by various influences and implications, then someone not in that position would have been able to make a more objective judgment.
"And for those trying to hold the group together, keeping a weather eye on your underlings so they don't make foolish mistakes is common sense. I doubt you've anything to worry about."
Holo actually had held entire mountains and villages together, and so her words had a certain persuasiveness to them.
She was not some food- and wine-obsessed town lass who cried at any mention of her homeland.
"Anyway, whatever you decide, all I need do is act according to my own priorities," said Holo, waving her hand dismissively and speeding up her walk.
Anger at her selfishness or callousness was the wrong answer.
And yet laughing it off as a joke was also the wrong answer.
Lawrence called out to her receding form. "Even if I were at the top of that list, I assume you wouldn't admit it, would you?"
Holo stopped and looked back. "Aye. I cannot have you getting seduced."
She flashed her fangs in a grin, and for a moment, a shock ran through him as he worried that she might be revealed.
But when he felt that chill down his spine, it was usually not because of his surroundings turning colder—rather it was his own temperature rising.
Lawrence gave a long-suffering sigh, drawing alongside Holo, who had slowed her walk.
He took her hand and spoke. "Are we finished here? Let's meet back up with Col."
Holo's face as she looked at him was unsurprisingly angry.
"That's my line, you dunce!"
Fortunately, the return crossing from the delta to the north side cost only a single fare.
When something happened in the town, the disturbance would spread rapidly.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Lawrence was well aware that Holo was disposed to prefer a mild sunbeam to a violent gambling den.
After flicking her ears for a few moments beneath her hood, Holo spoke in a mischievous tone. "Aye, well, we enjoy our wine as well. Still," she continued, smiling, "have you sworn to the God of the Church not to fall into their trap and not to fall into this one?"
"Huh?"
"I'm asking if you have anything to hide."
"Gah—" Lawrence could not help himself from muttering, as Holo had once again struck at his inability to hide anything from her.
He had wanted to organize his thoughts more thoroughly before talking to Holo, but he told her everything about his exchange with Kieman.
"You fool."
Lawrence wanted to protest that Kieman barely seemed human, but he knew that was no excuse.
Holo's tone as she continued seemed unconcerned. "If it was such an unreasonable demand, why didn't you simply refuse?"
When she said it like that, it sounded almost possible, which was a terrifying illusion.
But Lawrence soon regained his composure and scratched his head.
Merchants preferred to have contracts on paper, but before committing a promise to writing, they would use a verbal contract.
And its meaning was weighty indeed.
"Dozens, hundreds of merchants are members of the Rowen Trade Guild, including some who earn thousands of lumione in a year. It is nothing less than an entity that could squash me without a second thought. No matter what favor they might ask of me, I cannot refuse it. Absurd, you might think—but that is part of why promises are always kept."
Even in the Church city of Ruvinheigen, when Lawrence was facing utter ruin and the possibility of life on a slave ship—even then he did not consider betraying the guild.
Trading companies were thus powerful allies and fearsome enemies, knights who wielded the pen and the coin.
"Hmph. Well, I suppose 'tis true that a youngster can hardly disobey a veteran."
"You see?"
"Aye. But still, those in such position often have too much to lose and cannot risk bold moves. You wish to use your acquaintance with that vixen to accomplish something, but with others involved, perhaps they fear the trouble it might cause and thus threaten you."
If the problem was that one tended to be controlled by various influences and implications, then someone not in that position would have been able to make a more objective judgment.
"And for those trying to hold the group together, keeping a weather eye on your underlings so they don't make foolish mistakes is common sense. I doubt you've anything to worry about."
Holo actually had held entire mountains and villages together, and so her words had a certain persuasiveness to them.
She was not some food- and wine-obsessed town lass who cried at any mention of her homeland.
"Anyway, whatever you decide, all I need do is act according to my own priorities," said Holo, waving her hand dismissively and speeding up her walk.
Anger at her selfishness or callousness was the wrong answer.
And yet laughing it off as a joke was also the wrong answer.
Lawrence called out to her receding form. "Even if I were at the top of that list, I assume you wouldn't admit it, would you?"
Holo stopped and looked back. "Aye. I cannot have you getting seduced."
She flashed her fangs in a grin, and for a moment, a shock ran through him as he worried that she might be revealed.
But when he felt that chill down his spine, it was usually not because of his surroundings turning colder—rather it was his own temperature rising.
Lawrence gave a long-suffering sigh, drawing alongside Holo, who had slowed her walk.
He took her hand and spoke. "Are we finished here? Let's meet back up with Col."
Holo's face as she looked at him was unsurprisingly angry.
"That's my line, you dunce!"
Fortunately, the return crossing from the delta to the north side cost only a single fare.
When something happened in the town, the disturbance would spread rapidly.

Output:
Nearly everyone wanted to get from the north side to the delta and from the delta to the south side, so ferries going the opposite direction were completely empty.
It would have been ridiculous not to haggle the ferryman's fare down, and with the leftover coin, Lawrence bought Holo more roasted shellfish.
Lawrence barely had time to say, "You mustn't tell Col," before Holo had polished them off and was looking very satisfied indeed.
If they were going to pursue what was happening in the town, it might have seemed like the best course of action would be either to remain on the delta or cross to the south side, but listening to what Holo said made Lawrence think otherwise.
As a precaution, he had not told Kieman where they were staying.
One never knew.
If Col was taken hostage, there was no telling what sort of unreasonable demands they might make—to say nothing of Holo.
Upon returning to the inn, they were greeted by an exhausted Col, who was sprawled facedown on the table.
"Ah, welcome back..." His face twitched strangely.
For a moment, Lawrence wondered what had happened, but then he saw the cheap pickled herring and battered, blackened copper coins on the table and could more or less guess.
He must have been very popular when posing as a beggar boy to listen to town gossip.
"...I'm tired."
"That much is obvious, but did you hear anything to match the effort?"
Holo drew close to the tired Col and with both hands rubbed the dirt from the corners of his eyes.
When Lawrence had been just starting out as a merchant, he too had slept with a face tired from too many forced smiles, the muscles twitching and moving of their own accord.
Of course, back then he had been forced to massage his own face.
"Er...yes. It was just as you said, Mr. Lawrence. The Jean Company should be profiting, but I heard they don't eat proper food, and they hardly ever give to charity."
"Which means that they might even be taking those chicken eggs to market and selling them."
As she rubbed Col's face, Holo got a faraway look in her eye. "Then mayhap that feast was meant to court us."
"Quite likely. So Reynolds may well be serious about the wolf remains."
Or it was his last wish.
According to Kieman, Eve would only secretly negotiate with someone who could make the greatest profit in that particular moment.
As long as that was her method, no one would want to approach her without a very clear plan.
Contacting her with the claim that you would do anything as long as it expanded your business was a dangerous bet because there was no way of knowing whom she was involved with and to what end.
Which meant it was possible that Reynolds did indeed want Eve's cooperation with the wolf remains.
It fit that Reynolds knew where the remains were but had no way of negotiating with the owner and wanted to ask Eve to act as a middleman.
It was all too likely that some well-known nobleman or clergyman had the remains.
But they would never negotiate with some unknown merchant.
Who they would negotiate with was a merchant prince wealthy enough to have purchased a title—or true fellow nobility.
"Even from what I heard, reinforcement seemed possible."
"Meaning?"
"The church in the town we were just in, I hear, has been very bold in spreading the teachings of their God and has been inspiring their flock all along the river. That verve has reached all the way to the northern mountains, the heartland of paganism, and there gives courage to the knights fighting with pagans on the front line."
Col sat up with a start and looked straight at Holo.
In the worst case, her statement could mean that the Church's hand had fallen upon his town.
"But the northern pagans' resistance has been fierce, and since for the nonce the missionary efforts are making little progress, the Church men were warning me not to be swayed from the true path, despite the mistaken beliefs of my kith and kin."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Nearly everyone wanted to get from the north side to the delta and from the delta to the south side, so ferries going the opposite direction were completely empty.
It would have been ridiculous not to haggle the ferryman's fare down, and with the leftover coin, Lawrence bought Holo more roasted shellfish.
Lawrence barely had time to say, "You mustn't tell Col," before Holo had polished them off and was looking very satisfied indeed.
If they were going to pursue what was happening in the town, it might have seemed like the best course of action would be either to remain on the delta or cross to the south side, but listening to what Holo said made Lawrence think otherwise.
As a precaution, he had not told Kieman where they were staying.
One never knew.
If Col was taken hostage, there was no telling what sort of unreasonable demands they might make—to say nothing of Holo.
Upon returning to the inn, they were greeted by an exhausted Col, who was sprawled facedown on the table.
"Ah, welcome back..." His face twitched strangely.
For a moment, Lawrence wondered what had happened, but then he saw the cheap pickled herring and battered, blackened copper coins on the table and could more or less guess.
He must have been very popular when posing as a beggar boy to listen to town gossip.
"...I'm tired."
"That much is obvious, but did you hear anything to match the effort?"
Holo drew close to the tired Col and with both hands rubbed the dirt from the corners of his eyes.
When Lawrence had been just starting out as a merchant, he too had slept with a face tired from too many forced smiles, the muscles twitching and moving of their own accord.
Of course, back then he had been forced to massage his own face.
"Er...yes. It was just as you said, Mr. Lawrence. The Jean Company should be profiting, but I heard they don't eat proper food, and they hardly ever give to charity."
"Which means that they might even be taking those chicken eggs to market and selling them."
As she rubbed Col's face, Holo got a faraway look in her eye. "Then mayhap that feast was meant to court us."
"Quite likely. So Reynolds may well be serious about the wolf remains."
Or it was his last wish.
According to Kieman, Eve would only secretly negotiate with someone who could make the greatest profit in that particular moment.
As long as that was her method, no one would want to approach her without a very clear plan.
Contacting her with the claim that you would do anything as long as it expanded your business was a dangerous bet because there was no way of knowing whom she was involved with and to what end.
Which meant it was possible that Reynolds did indeed want Eve's cooperation with the wolf remains.
It fit that Reynolds knew where the remains were but had no way of negotiating with the owner and wanted to ask Eve to act as a middleman.
It was all too likely that some well-known nobleman or clergyman had the remains.
But they would never negotiate with some unknown merchant.
Who they would negotiate with was a merchant prince wealthy enough to have purchased a title—or true fellow nobility.
"Even from what I heard, reinforcement seemed possible."
"Meaning?"
"The church in the town we were just in, I hear, has been very bold in spreading the teachings of their God and has been inspiring their flock all along the river. That verve has reached all the way to the northern mountains, the heartland of paganism, and there gives courage to the knights fighting with pagans on the front line."
Col sat up with a start and looked straight at Holo.
In the worst case, her statement could mean that the Church's hand had fallen upon his town.
"But the northern pagans' resistance has been fierce, and since for the nonce the missionary efforts are making little progress, the Church men were warning me not to be swayed from the true path, despite the mistaken beliefs of my kith and kin."

Output:
It was clear Holo had heard quite a bit of the Church's specialty—stories that were not precisely lies but left a mistaken impression upon the listener.
Holo was not so patient as to be able to happily listen to such foolishness.
As long as she was not in a foul mood, she would not tease someone about his or her town for fun.
"The Church can never appear weak in its dealings with pagans. For them to state something so close to the truth must mean their true situation is desperate. If so, considering the situation with the bishopric in Lenos, talk of drastic measures to reverse their position—such as getting the wolf remains into their hands—cannot be easily dismissed as absurd."
"Too true. When I mentioned the bones, the fools would speak of the need to take them as quickly as possible, to show the pagans the error of their ways," spat Holo, her tail swishing violently enough to cause her robe to flip up as she sat forcefully down on the bed.
Lawrence had no words for Holo and, letting a slight sigh escape, tried to put his thoughts in order.
"There's no doubt that the Jean Company is looking for the remains. And they're closing in on the location. Or perhaps it's better to say that they're getting closer to handing them over to the Church."
"And should we just go then to this whatever-'tis-called company?"
Holo's upturned glance was frightening as ever.
Lawrence shook his head at her bare-fanged statement. "Imagine what would happen if we tried to solve everything with brute force. Your true nature would absolutely come out, and the Church's rage would be roused. A pagan god in the flesh—'all ye faithful servants of God, rise and take swords in hand,' they would say."
Holo was not such a child as to say she would merely tear all who opposed them to shreds.
She understood the difference of magnitude, and more importantly, she could not fail to know that such an act would give the deadlocked Church renewed will and resolve.
"If possible, our solution should be money. In the worst case, a secret theft would also work."
"Such childish gambits—" began Holo, but stopped herself at Lawrence's quiet gaze.
"Enough money can easily kill a person. With money, your homeland could be stripped bare. It is not 'childish.'"
Lawrence was a merchant, and merchants risked their lives to make money.
He knew well how difficult that was and also the power it held.
Holo grunted something that might or might not have been agreement, then looked away.
"Still, now that we've recognized the situation, the question becomes what we can do about it, and the answer may well be 'not very much.'"
"...Why should that be? If this company is seeking the aid of that vixen, then we have two choices."
"Two?"
Anticipating a display of the celebrated cleverness of a wisewolf, Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who patted Col on the head.
"We can use this fellow's wits to threaten them."
She was referring to the mystery of the copper coin that the Jean Company handled.
"I see," murmured Lawrence. "And the other?"
At those words, a mysterious smile appeared on Holo's face, and she moved smoothly toward Lawrence.
He suddenly had a bad feeling about this, not for any particular reason, but simply because of his experiences with Holo thus far.
"We do what that company wants and play matchmaker twixt them and the vixen. We can hear the location of the wolf remains once she's been asked where they are."
There was a head of height difference between Lawrence and Holo.
When she stood directly in front of him, Holo had to look distinctly up, but it was Lawrence who felt overpowered.
"There may be some possibility of that with the Jean Company, but there's still a clear flaw there."
"Oh, aye?"
Did she have some secret plan? Lawrence wondered, but his common sense refuted it.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
It was clear Holo had heard quite a bit of the Church's specialty—stories that were not precisely lies but left a mistaken impression upon the listener.
Holo was not so patient as to be able to happily listen to such foolishness.
As long as she was not in a foul mood, she would not tease someone about his or her town for fun.
"The Church can never appear weak in its dealings with pagans. For them to state something so close to the truth must mean their true situation is desperate. If so, considering the situation with the bishopric in Lenos, talk of drastic measures to reverse their position—such as getting the wolf remains into their hands—cannot be easily dismissed as absurd."
"Too true. When I mentioned the bones, the fools would speak of the need to take them as quickly as possible, to show the pagans the error of their ways," spat Holo, her tail swishing violently enough to cause her robe to flip up as she sat forcefully down on the bed.
Lawrence had no words for Holo and, letting a slight sigh escape, tried to put his thoughts in order.
"There's no doubt that the Jean Company is looking for the remains. And they're closing in on the location. Or perhaps it's better to say that they're getting closer to handing them over to the Church."
"And should we just go then to this whatever-'tis-called company?"
Holo's upturned glance was frightening as ever.
Lawrence shook his head at her bare-fanged statement. "Imagine what would happen if we tried to solve everything with brute force. Your true nature would absolutely come out, and the Church's rage would be roused. A pagan god in the flesh—'all ye faithful servants of God, rise and take swords in hand,' they would say."
Holo was not such a child as to say she would merely tear all who opposed them to shreds.
She understood the difference of magnitude, and more importantly, she could not fail to know that such an act would give the deadlocked Church renewed will and resolve.
"If possible, our solution should be money. In the worst case, a secret theft would also work."
"Such childish gambits—" began Holo, but stopped herself at Lawrence's quiet gaze.
"Enough money can easily kill a person. With money, your homeland could be stripped bare. It is not 'childish.'"
Lawrence was a merchant, and merchants risked their lives to make money.
He knew well how difficult that was and also the power it held.
Holo grunted something that might or might not have been agreement, then looked away.
"Still, now that we've recognized the situation, the question becomes what we can do about it, and the answer may well be 'not very much.'"
"...Why should that be? If this company is seeking the aid of that vixen, then we have two choices."
"Two?"
Anticipating a display of the celebrated cleverness of a wisewolf, Lawrence turned to look at Holo, who patted Col on the head.
"We can use this fellow's wits to threaten them."
She was referring to the mystery of the copper coin that the Jean Company handled.
"I see," murmured Lawrence. "And the other?"
At those words, a mysterious smile appeared on Holo's face, and she moved smoothly toward Lawrence.
He suddenly had a bad feeling about this, not for any particular reason, but simply because of his experiences with Holo thus far.
"We do what that company wants and play matchmaker twixt them and the vixen. We can hear the location of the wolf remains once she's been asked where they are."
There was a head of height difference between Lawrence and Holo.
When she stood directly in front of him, Holo had to look distinctly up, but it was Lawrence who felt overpowered.
"There may be some possibility of that with the Jean Company, but there's still a clear flaw there."
"Oh, aye?"
Did she have some secret plan? Lawrence wondered, but his common sense refuted it.

Output:
Her tail was wagging her irritation for just that reason.
"We need but seduce her. You're trying to fool this wisewolf, so it should be no trouble at all, nay?"
Love affairs trumped proper business deals.
This wolf already knew full well things that Lawrence had learned in his many years as a merchant.
But Lawrence didn't understand why she was speaking about it with such irritation.
Setting aside whether or not it was a real possibility, as a potential means to an end it certainly existed.
So long as they were only discussing it, there was no need for such ill temper.
Lawrence flinched a bit at Holo's smile, and Holo looked suddenly behind her.
"Col, my lad, close your eyes and cover your ears."
"Wha—?"
He hesitated for but a moment.
By this time well trained by Holo, Col obeyed her with frightening speed.
Holo gave a satisfied sigh and turned back to Lawrence. "Did you think I had not noticed?"
Her smile disappeared, and she grabbed Lawrence's ear and pulled him close.
"Wh-what are you—"
"Even you can tell what someone has eaten by what remains on their mouth. But I can tell by scent alone. Even the slightest morsel if I get that close."
Lawrence soon realized what Holo was referring to by "that close."
He had listened to Eve by the spring of gold, then had his pathetic worries soothed on the second floor of the tavern.
But why was Holo angry about that now of all times? Lawrence wondered, then realized something strange—something immediately following his conversation with Eve, and now the possibility of seducing her.
And this strange roundabout talk of being able to tell what someone had eaten by scent alone.
"Ah—"
Just as Lawrence realized, Holo drew so near that he could count her individual eyelashes.
"All I can do is pray you stop being such a reckless male. I'd then spend less effort trying to teach you the difference betwixt courage and foolhardiness."
When they had spoken by the spring of gold, Eve had drunk the same ale that Lawrence had.
Among merchants, cup sharing was not something worth worrying about.
But while that might hold true for merchants, it was not necessarily so for Holo.
"Look here, this is a misunderstanding."
Lawrence tried to defend himself from at least that count, whereupon Holo violently released his ear and spoke in a quiet voice.
"I am perfectly aware of that. I told you, 'tis impossible to hide anything from me."
It had not particularly hurt, but Lawrence still rubbed his ear as he turned his gaze away tiredly.
It would have been far more charming of her to simply admit her worry—and if he said so, he would get an ear bitten off.
Also, this business with Eve was only a possibility, and the moment they would have to bet on that possibility was rapidly approaching.
Or was it just the very fact of the prospect entering their field of view that upset Holo so?
Lawrence wondered about it as Holo roused Col, who had obediently placed his head down on the table.
He thought he understood, more or less.
Holo was truly worried.
As the tale of the wolf bones took on more plausibility, her worry was no doubt turning stronger.
"In any case, what we should do now is—" Holo began with strange vigor, which snapped Lawrence out of his reverie.
Col was cleaning up the table surface in Holo's direction.
Just as Lawrence was wondering what she was up to, Holo held Lawrence's coin purse up, having loosened it from his waist at some point, and continued talking.
"—We put an end to this stubbornness and ask young Col for his thoughts. Unless your heart's set on seducing that vixen, that is."
Lawrence, of course, only slumped and sighed.
Only the finest trading companies had glass windows.
Normally they had either nothing at all or oil-soaked cloth at best.
The inn where Lawrence and company were staying was no exception, and the opened outside windows freely let in both the clamor of the town and the frigid air.
But for once, the cold wind had been forgotten.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Her tail was wagging her irritation for just that reason.
"We need but seduce her. You're trying to fool this wisewolf, so it should be no trouble at all, nay?"
Love affairs trumped proper business deals.
This wolf already knew full well things that Lawrence had learned in his many years as a merchant.
But Lawrence didn't understand why she was speaking about it with such irritation.
Setting aside whether or not it was a real possibility, as a potential means to an end it certainly existed.
So long as they were only discussing it, there was no need for such ill temper.
Lawrence flinched a bit at Holo's smile, and Holo looked suddenly behind her.
"Col, my lad, close your eyes and cover your ears."
"Wha—?"
He hesitated for but a moment.
By this time well trained by Holo, Col obeyed her with frightening speed.
Holo gave a satisfied sigh and turned back to Lawrence. "Did you think I had not noticed?"
Her smile disappeared, and she grabbed Lawrence's ear and pulled him close.
"Wh-what are you—"
"Even you can tell what someone has eaten by what remains on their mouth. But I can tell by scent alone. Even the slightest morsel if I get that close."
Lawrence soon realized what Holo was referring to by "that close."
He had listened to Eve by the spring of gold, then had his pathetic worries soothed on the second floor of the tavern.
But why was Holo angry about that now of all times? Lawrence wondered, then realized something strange—something immediately following his conversation with Eve, and now the possibility of seducing her.
And this strange roundabout talk of being able to tell what someone had eaten by scent alone.
"Ah—"
Just as Lawrence realized, Holo drew so near that he could count her individual eyelashes.
"All I can do is pray you stop being such a reckless male. I'd then spend less effort trying to teach you the difference betwixt courage and foolhardiness."
When they had spoken by the spring of gold, Eve had drunk the same ale that Lawrence had.
Among merchants, cup sharing was not something worth worrying about.
But while that might hold true for merchants, it was not necessarily so for Holo.
"Look here, this is a misunderstanding."
Lawrence tried to defend himself from at least that count, whereupon Holo violently released his ear and spoke in a quiet voice.
"I am perfectly aware of that. I told you, 'tis impossible to hide anything from me."
It had not particularly hurt, but Lawrence still rubbed his ear as he turned his gaze away tiredly.
It would have been far more charming of her to simply admit her worry—and if he said so, he would get an ear bitten off.
Also, this business with Eve was only a possibility, and the moment they would have to bet on that possibility was rapidly approaching.
Or was it just the very fact of the prospect entering their field of view that upset Holo so?
Lawrence wondered about it as Holo roused Col, who had obediently placed his head down on the table.
He thought he understood, more or less.
Holo was truly worried.
As the tale of the wolf bones took on more plausibility, her worry was no doubt turning stronger.
"In any case, what we should do now is—" Holo began with strange vigor, which snapped Lawrence out of his reverie.
Col was cleaning up the table surface in Holo's direction.
Just as Lawrence was wondering what she was up to, Holo held Lawrence's coin purse up, having loosened it from his waist at some point, and continued talking.
"—We put an end to this stubbornness and ask young Col for his thoughts. Unless your heart's set on seducing that vixen, that is."
Lawrence, of course, only slumped and sighed.
Only the finest trading companies had glass windows.
Normally they had either nothing at all or oil-soaked cloth at best.
The inn where Lawrence and company were staying was no exception, and the opened outside windows freely let in both the clamor of the town and the frigid air.
But for once, the cold wind had been forgotten.

Output:
This was what it meant to be stunned into silence.
"...It can't be...," Lawrence finally murmured.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
That did not, of course, change the reality of what was on the table.
"...Aye, common sense is a troublesome opponent...and yet...and yet..."
Lawrence knew of many methods to cheat in business, and the more complicated they were, the more power they had.
Moneychangers' fraud happened in the exchange markets, with their hundreds of varieties of coins, old and new, from near and far, and fraud around the buying and selling of physical wares involved either complicated machinations or deals made on intricate timelines.
Of course, there were more straightforward frauds, but in most cases, those relied on the skillful tongue of the swindler as opposed to the method itself.
This was the first time Lawrence had been so surprised by both a trick's nature and its source.
"Er...I don't remember the exact amount, but if they used this method and made a bit of an adjustment, they would go from fifty-seven boxes of copper coin to sixty...I think."
Lawrence and Holo's shock made Col's voice a little less certain.
"No, I'm sure it would. Yes, I see. And no one would be the wiser."
"Doubtless not. And still...hnh," Holo muttered in frustration, pinching Col's cheek.
Lawrence could not even manage that.
Col had discovered a mystery: Fifty-seven boxes of imported copper coin had become sixty boxes when exported.
The answer lay in the difference between packing coins in parallel stacks of similar height or alternating rows.
Either way resulted in a perfectly packed box, such that if any coins were stolen, it would be immediately obvious.
Moreover, even if there were verbal instructions to "pack coins tightly in boxes," the discrepancy would not be noticed, and in any case, transporting perfectly packed boxes of fixed size reduced the time spent counting coins, also ensuring that if any coins were taken, they would be immediately noticed. So at a given time and place, the only person concerned with how many coins were packed in a box was the buyer receiving them.
While in transit, nobody worried about how many coins were in a box.
This was because taxes were levied by the box, as were transportation fees.
"I wonder, though—has no one else noticed this?"
"Hmm?"
"I'll agree that Col is a bright lad, but there are many bright people in the world. If you did this for years, surely you would eventually meet someone else who knows the trick, would you not?"
Ragusa, the boatman who carried the copper coins down the Roam River to the Jean Company, did the route several times a year and had been doing so for two years.
And it was true that over two years, someone would have opened up one of the boxes and looked at its contents.
But there was one important thing.
"The Jean Company is probably cutting down on the taxes and transport costs they pay and turning profit on the excess, but there's something very particular necessary for anyone to finally realize that they are making dishonest gains."
"Aye?"
"...Ah! The manifest!" Col's cheek was still being pinched by Holo, but with something to think about, he did not seem to notice or mind. He quickly gave the answer with a smile, coming back to himself and looking at Holo.
Holo pinched harder on Col's cheek, as that was indeed the correct answer.
"Yes. Only after we know the details of the export and import can we begin to suspect foul play. There is far too much volume of trade in the world to constantly suspect this kind of fraud. One can't inspect everything."
Even if he wanted to live cautiously, there were many things that escaped the eye.
Lawrence picked up one of the copper coins that was lined up on the table and sighed.
"Still," said Holo, having harassed Col for a while, "this means we've found a weapon to threaten that company, does it not?" she added, her eyes flashing.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
This was what it meant to be stunned into silence.
"...It can't be...," Lawrence finally murmured.
He rubbed his eyes and looked again.
That did not, of course, change the reality of what was on the table.
"...Aye, common sense is a troublesome opponent...and yet...and yet..."
Lawrence knew of many methods to cheat in business, and the more complicated they were, the more power they had.
Moneychangers' fraud happened in the exchange markets, with their hundreds of varieties of coins, old and new, from near and far, and fraud around the buying and selling of physical wares involved either complicated machinations or deals made on intricate timelines.
Of course, there were more straightforward frauds, but in most cases, those relied on the skillful tongue of the swindler as opposed to the method itself.
This was the first time Lawrence had been so surprised by both a trick's nature and its source.
"Er...I don't remember the exact amount, but if they used this method and made a bit of an adjustment, they would go from fifty-seven boxes of copper coin to sixty...I think."
Lawrence and Holo's shock made Col's voice a little less certain.
"No, I'm sure it would. Yes, I see. And no one would be the wiser."
"Doubtless not. And still...hnh," Holo muttered in frustration, pinching Col's cheek.
Lawrence could not even manage that.
Col had discovered a mystery: Fifty-seven boxes of imported copper coin had become sixty boxes when exported.
The answer lay in the difference between packing coins in parallel stacks of similar height or alternating rows.
Either way resulted in a perfectly packed box, such that if any coins were stolen, it would be immediately obvious.
Moreover, even if there were verbal instructions to "pack coins tightly in boxes," the discrepancy would not be noticed, and in any case, transporting perfectly packed boxes of fixed size reduced the time spent counting coins, also ensuring that if any coins were taken, they would be immediately noticed. So at a given time and place, the only person concerned with how many coins were packed in a box was the buyer receiving them.
While in transit, nobody worried about how many coins were in a box.
This was because taxes were levied by the box, as were transportation fees.
"I wonder, though—has no one else noticed this?"
"Hmm?"
"I'll agree that Col is a bright lad, but there are many bright people in the world. If you did this for years, surely you would eventually meet someone else who knows the trick, would you not?"
Ragusa, the boatman who carried the copper coins down the Roam River to the Jean Company, did the route several times a year and had been doing so for two years.
And it was true that over two years, someone would have opened up one of the boxes and looked at its contents.
But there was one important thing.
"The Jean Company is probably cutting down on the taxes and transport costs they pay and turning profit on the excess, but there's something very particular necessary for anyone to finally realize that they are making dishonest gains."
"Aye?"
"...Ah! The manifest!" Col's cheek was still being pinched by Holo, but with something to think about, he did not seem to notice or mind. He quickly gave the answer with a smile, coming back to himself and looking at Holo.
Holo pinched harder on Col's cheek, as that was indeed the correct answer.
"Yes. Only after we know the details of the export and import can we begin to suspect foul play. There is far too much volume of trade in the world to constantly suspect this kind of fraud. One can't inspect everything."
Even if he wanted to live cautiously, there were many things that escaped the eye.
Lawrence picked up one of the copper coins that was lined up on the table and sighed.
"Still," said Holo, having harassed Col for a while, "this means we've found a weapon to threaten that company, does it not?" she added, her eyes flashing.

Output:
Disappointment was always worse when it took longer to arrive.
"Unfortunately," Lawrence began, at which Holo's smile instantly froze. "As a weapon, it's rather meager."
"Why?" She was more frightening now than when she wore her halfhearted face of annoyance.
But nothing would be solved by holding back his words. "He's reducing the number of boxes shipped by three and profiting via the reduced taxes and transport costs. If this comes to light, the Jean Company will either have to pay penalties or lose their credibility as a trading company. But..."
"But the difference between that penalty and the profit from the wolf bones is too great. 'Tis the same as when we bought these clothes, is it not?" suggested Holo, grabbing at her own garments.
She had calmed her irritated face, perhaps because she had realized there was nothing to do but accept reality.
"That's right. It might've been just the right weapon to use if they were only chasing the wolf tale for fun."
Holo did seem aggrieved, but she was not dejected about having lost one of their leads.
Col, who had solved the riddle of the copper coins in the first place, had gotten ahead of her on that count.
He had surely been looking forward to his knowledge being useful.
Up until a moment earlier, Holo had been pinching his cheek, but now she ruffled his hair in an elder sisterly way.
"Aye, well, that just means the problem's a large one. 'Tis better this than something solved with the trade of a single apple."
"Quite right. If one method won't work, we'll just move on to the next."
Talk was cheap, of course.
They needed but to find something that Reynolds would weigh favorably against the wolf remains, but if such a thing were easily obtained, none of them would need to worry so.
Or perhaps, as Reynolds had been gathering stories and thereby found some hint as to the bones' location, Lawrence and company needed to follow that example and search out more information.
If Reynolds, who did business in Kerube, had managed to find something, then perhaps Kieman had at least a crumb of knowledge.
Lawrence did not know what Kieman was planning, but it surely involved Eve, and the guild would undoubtedly ask some favor of Lawrence on that count. So as compensation for that, perhaps he could ask for information.
It seemed something was happening in the town, so it would not be possible for a little while, but if Kieman's hand had to wait, Lawrence did not particularly mind.
If there was a problem, it had to be—
"If we're thinking of our next move, our problem becomes this: When will Eve depart this town? Judging by what she said, it seems like she wants to free herself from the troublesome ties she has here. She likely plans to leave and not return for some time. And if Reynolds knows that—"
"She'll tell him what she knows, and soon."
Time, as ever, was the enemy.
Lawrence muttered, and Holo continued speaking.
"Which means there's naught to do but seduce her."
Lawrence glared sharply at her—this after how angry she had been just a moment ago.
But given the circumstances, even ridiculous possibilities had to be carefully considered.
In reality, there were countless times when a missed chance would put something out of reach for all eternity.
If the bones fell under Church authority, there was a very real possibility that they would vanish into darkness.
Holo played with Col's hair, and Lawrence stroked his beard as they both considered the possibilities.
Col likewise was surely deep in thought, but three heads were not better than two.
As precious time slipped away, Holo seemed to grow frustrated with thinking and moved away from Col and toward the bed, sitting down and fidgeting her tail out.
Lawrence watched this and looked at Col, who likewise looked back at him.
The two exchanged a sad smile, as though agreeing a short break was in order, when—
"Hmph." Holo looked up, her ears turning toward the hallway.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Disappointment was always worse when it took longer to arrive.
"Unfortunately," Lawrence began, at which Holo's smile instantly froze. "As a weapon, it's rather meager."
"Why?" She was more frightening now than when she wore her halfhearted face of annoyance.
But nothing would be solved by holding back his words. "He's reducing the number of boxes shipped by three and profiting via the reduced taxes and transport costs. If this comes to light, the Jean Company will either have to pay penalties or lose their credibility as a trading company. But..."
"But the difference between that penalty and the profit from the wolf bones is too great. 'Tis the same as when we bought these clothes, is it not?" suggested Holo, grabbing at her own garments.
She had calmed her irritated face, perhaps because she had realized there was nothing to do but accept reality.
"That's right. It might've been just the right weapon to use if they were only chasing the wolf tale for fun."
Holo did seem aggrieved, but she was not dejected about having lost one of their leads.
Col, who had solved the riddle of the copper coins in the first place, had gotten ahead of her on that count.
He had surely been looking forward to his knowledge being useful.
Up until a moment earlier, Holo had been pinching his cheek, but now she ruffled his hair in an elder sisterly way.
"Aye, well, that just means the problem's a large one. 'Tis better this than something solved with the trade of a single apple."
"Quite right. If one method won't work, we'll just move on to the next."
Talk was cheap, of course.
They needed but to find something that Reynolds would weigh favorably against the wolf remains, but if such a thing were easily obtained, none of them would need to worry so.
Or perhaps, as Reynolds had been gathering stories and thereby found some hint as to the bones' location, Lawrence and company needed to follow that example and search out more information.
If Reynolds, who did business in Kerube, had managed to find something, then perhaps Kieman had at least a crumb of knowledge.
Lawrence did not know what Kieman was planning, but it surely involved Eve, and the guild would undoubtedly ask some favor of Lawrence on that count. So as compensation for that, perhaps he could ask for information.
It seemed something was happening in the town, so it would not be possible for a little while, but if Kieman's hand had to wait, Lawrence did not particularly mind.
If there was a problem, it had to be—
"If we're thinking of our next move, our problem becomes this: When will Eve depart this town? Judging by what she said, it seems like she wants to free herself from the troublesome ties she has here. She likely plans to leave and not return for some time. And if Reynolds knows that—"
"She'll tell him what she knows, and soon."
Time, as ever, was the enemy.
Lawrence muttered, and Holo continued speaking.
"Which means there's naught to do but seduce her."
Lawrence glared sharply at her—this after how angry she had been just a moment ago.
But given the circumstances, even ridiculous possibilities had to be carefully considered.
In reality, there were countless times when a missed chance would put something out of reach for all eternity.
If the bones fell under Church authority, there was a very real possibility that they would vanish into darkness.
Holo played with Col's hair, and Lawrence stroked his beard as they both considered the possibilities.
Col likewise was surely deep in thought, but three heads were not better than two.
As precious time slipped away, Holo seemed to grow frustrated with thinking and moved away from Col and toward the bed, sitting down and fidgeting her tail out.
Lawrence watched this and looked at Col, who likewise looked back at him.
The two exchanged a sad smile, as though agreeing a short break was in order, when—
"Hmph." Holo looked up, her ears turning toward the hallway.

Output:
The keenness of her hearing was soon demonstrated again.
"Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Kraft Lawrence." His name was called just as there was a knock at the door.
It was the innkeeper's voice, but why would he bother coming all the way up to a guest's room?
Without so much as needing to exchange winks, Col immediately stood and made for the door.
They had paid for their room in advance, and Lawrence had no memory of cracking any of the cups and bowls they had borrowed.
As he was thinking about it, through the opened door appeared the innkeeper, hunched over and looking furtively around. "Ah, you're still here."
"Quite. Is something the matter?"
"Yes, I was asked to give this to you."
"To me?"
Just as Lawrence was wondering what the innkeeper could possibly have for him, the man produced a sealed letter from his breast pocket.
Lawrence took it and opened it; upon the message was neat handwriting.
"Come to the Lydon Inn....Want to discuss statues. For details, talk to the...innkeeper?" Lawrence murmured as he read the letter's contents. When he looked up, he saw the innkeeper's gaze still upon the note.
The moment his eyes met Lawrence's, he nodded decisively.
"Aha, I see. Very good, sir. Will you be traveling alone?"
Lawrence had no idea what he was talking about, but looked back down at the letter.
The last line said, "Come alone."
"Very good, sir. I'll prepare a fast carriage. Please wait just a moment."
"Er...yes," Lawrence replied stupidly, at which the innkeeper bowed politely and trotted off.
"What was that all about?"
"I'm not really sure...oh, of course. This is an inn Eve recommended to me."
Lawrence returned to the table and set the letter on it.
Holo seemed to have been sure he was going to bring it to her and got off the bed looking irritated.
"Something urgent must have come up. She's going to quite a bit of trouble."
"Will you be all right alone?"
Holo picked up the letter between two fingers, sniffing suspiciously at it by way of appraisal.
Given the way she wrinkled her nose at it, the letter had to be from Eve.
"I'll make sure to seduce her well."
"Fool," spat Holo before repeating herself. "Will you be safe alone?"
This time Lawrence was not teasing. "If she wanted to put me in danger, there are many other ways to do it. She must have some reason for this."
***
Holo closed her mouth, aggrieved, her tail flicking.
She was either worried he was going to fall into yet another trap or possibly just thought he was helpless.
Either way, the letter asked him to come alone, and he planned to go alone.
If he did not trust Eve, that would only give her cause to be mistrustful of him.
But having explained as much to Holo, he got the feeling she was still displeased.
Lawrence was at a loss for what to say, but then his savior appeared.
"It's all right, Miss Holo. I'll be here with you while Mr. Lawrence is out."
No one could fail to laugh upon hearing Col's desperate joke.
Holo closed her eyes and burst out laughing.
If Col, who was even younger than Lawrence, could manage to be so considerate, then Holo the Wisewolf could hardly fail to do likewise.
At length her laughter subsided, and she sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "So there it is, then. Seems young Col will be watching over me while you're away."
Lawrence gave Col a wink.
He could only be thankful for the smile he got in reply.
"Well, I'll be off, then. If anyone suspicious comes by, don't open the door for them. You never know—it might be a wolf."
Holo snorted at the joke. "Without good news, I don't know that I'll be able to stay in my human form."
It was nothing to joke about, but Lawrence decided to put off that conversation until later, as whatever debt the innkeeper owed Eve, it was enough for him to prepare a fast horse-drawn carriage in a manner entirely befitting of the word haste, and he called for Lawrence.
"I'll give you more details in the carriage, sir."


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
The keenness of her hearing was soon demonstrated again.
"Mr. Lawrence. Mr. Kraft Lawrence." His name was called just as there was a knock at the door.
It was the innkeeper's voice, but why would he bother coming all the way up to a guest's room?
Without so much as needing to exchange winks, Col immediately stood and made for the door.
They had paid for their room in advance, and Lawrence had no memory of cracking any of the cups and bowls they had borrowed.
As he was thinking about it, through the opened door appeared the innkeeper, hunched over and looking furtively around. "Ah, you're still here."
"Quite. Is something the matter?"
"Yes, I was asked to give this to you."
"To me?"
Just as Lawrence was wondering what the innkeeper could possibly have for him, the man produced a sealed letter from his breast pocket.
Lawrence took it and opened it; upon the message was neat handwriting.
"Come to the Lydon Inn....Want to discuss statues. For details, talk to the...innkeeper?" Lawrence murmured as he read the letter's contents. When he looked up, he saw the innkeeper's gaze still upon the note.
The moment his eyes met Lawrence's, he nodded decisively.
"Aha, I see. Very good, sir. Will you be traveling alone?"
Lawrence had no idea what he was talking about, but looked back down at the letter.
The last line said, "Come alone."
"Very good, sir. I'll prepare a fast carriage. Please wait just a moment."
"Er...yes," Lawrence replied stupidly, at which the innkeeper bowed politely and trotted off.
"What was that all about?"
"I'm not really sure...oh, of course. This is an inn Eve recommended to me."
Lawrence returned to the table and set the letter on it.
Holo seemed to have been sure he was going to bring it to her and got off the bed looking irritated.
"Something urgent must have come up. She's going to quite a bit of trouble."
"Will you be all right alone?"
Holo picked up the letter between two fingers, sniffing suspiciously at it by way of appraisal.
Given the way she wrinkled her nose at it, the letter had to be from Eve.
"I'll make sure to seduce her well."
"Fool," spat Holo before repeating herself. "Will you be safe alone?"
This time Lawrence was not teasing. "If she wanted to put me in danger, there are many other ways to do it. She must have some reason for this."
***
Holo closed her mouth, aggrieved, her tail flicking.
She was either worried he was going to fall into yet another trap or possibly just thought he was helpless.
Either way, the letter asked him to come alone, and he planned to go alone.
If he did not trust Eve, that would only give her cause to be mistrustful of him.
But having explained as much to Holo, he got the feeling she was still displeased.
Lawrence was at a loss for what to say, but then his savior appeared.
"It's all right, Miss Holo. I'll be here with you while Mr. Lawrence is out."
No one could fail to laugh upon hearing Col's desperate joke.
Holo closed her eyes and burst out laughing.
If Col, who was even younger than Lawrence, could manage to be so considerate, then Holo the Wisewolf could hardly fail to do likewise.
At length her laughter subsided, and she sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "So there it is, then. Seems young Col will be watching over me while you're away."
Lawrence gave Col a wink.
He could only be thankful for the smile he got in reply.
"Well, I'll be off, then. If anyone suspicious comes by, don't open the door for them. You never know—it might be a wolf."
Holo snorted at the joke. "Without good news, I don't know that I'll be able to stay in my human form."
It was nothing to joke about, but Lawrence decided to put off that conversation until later, as whatever debt the innkeeper owed Eve, it was enough for him to prepare a fast horse-drawn carriage in a manner entirely befitting of the word haste, and he called for Lawrence.
"I'll give you more details in the carriage, sir."

Output:
Lawrence nodded and followed the innkeeper's lead.
It had been the right decision to bring Col along on this journey, Lawrence thought to himself as he pictured the boy's face when he uttered that desperate joke.
When he emerged from the back of the inn, there waited for him no jet-black coach but rather a normal carriage. The innkeeper gave Lawrence a cloak, which he pulled low over his head.
It was obvious that Eve wanted to meet Lawrence in secret, but what he did not know was how she had such influence over the innkeeper.
Even if he did owe her some debt, there was something strange about it.
That sense of apprehension only grew as they approached the building known as the Lydon Inn.
The building was down a narrow street where careless driving blocked the way in a district where cobblers and coopers worked tirelessly under the eaves, despite the chill. Like the hideout Eve had led him to before, the building was darkened with age and seemed to have seen the passing of many seasons.
Directly across the street at what seemed to be a tailor's workshop, three men worked to cut down a large skin.
Aristocrats hated labor of all kinds.
This was not a place a refined person would live.
And upon entering the craft district, Lawrence became aware of their strange gazes upon him.
Even if it wasn't surprising they'd be curious at his arrival, given that they would know the faces of anyone who came here, there was something more than just curiosity in their gazes.
If he had to put his finger on it, they seemed to be on the lookout.
"I've brought a guest."
The driver of Lawrence's carriage knocked at the door with a cane as soon as they pulled up to the building.
The informality of it was surprising, but something about the way he knocked was odd, and it was probably some kind of signal.
Before long the door opened, and from within emerged a face Lawrence was not unfamiliar with.
It was one of the mean-eyed young men who'd been with Eve on the delta.
"Inside," he said, jerking his head back after giving Lawrence an appraising look.
Lawrence couldn't shake the feeling that he'd gotten himself involved in something big, but having realized it, it was not as though he could do anything about it.
After all, being frightened wasn't in his best interests, so Lawrence armed himself with his merchant's curiosity.
He gave the silent driver a nod and got out of the carriage, then unhesitatingly reached for the door.
The weathered door suited the house, which was one step away from being completely dilapidated, but the wood it used was solid, and most importantly, it did not creak.
When he opened the door and entered, he saw the man who'd greeted him leaning against the wall, regarding him.
No matter where a merchant found himself delivered, he couldn't help smiling.
Lawrence gave the man a pleasant smile, and the man, who wore an obvious sword at his belt, indicated a hallway with his eyes.
The walls were half-stone and half-wood, and the floor was packed earth.
The place had probably been a craftsman's workshop at one point.
As he walked farther in, his feet scuff-scuffing audibly on the floor, he found himself calmed by the scent he smelled—it was burning wood, which suited the season.
He opened the door at the end of the hallway, revealing what seemed to be a workshop-turned-living room. At the moment, though, it was no more than a storage space, with crates and barrels piled high and no particular sense that anyone was living there.
On the left side of the room there was a fireplace, and the area seemed to be set up to let someone pass at least a bit of time there.
"Surprised, are you?" Sitting in a chair and warming herself in front of the fire, Eve looked up from a bundle of parchment.
She looked not unlike a noblewoman reading over petitions from her land's residents, but when she looked back and revealed her face, Lawrence was a bit surprised.
The left corner of her mouth was red and swollen.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
Lawrence nodded and followed the innkeeper's lead.
It had been the right decision to bring Col along on this journey, Lawrence thought to himself as he pictured the boy's face when he uttered that desperate joke.
When he emerged from the back of the inn, there waited for him no jet-black coach but rather a normal carriage. The innkeeper gave Lawrence a cloak, which he pulled low over his head.
It was obvious that Eve wanted to meet Lawrence in secret, but what he did not know was how she had such influence over the innkeeper.
Even if he did owe her some debt, there was something strange about it.
That sense of apprehension only grew as they approached the building known as the Lydon Inn.
The building was down a narrow street where careless driving blocked the way in a district where cobblers and coopers worked tirelessly under the eaves, despite the chill. Like the hideout Eve had led him to before, the building was darkened with age and seemed to have seen the passing of many seasons.
Directly across the street at what seemed to be a tailor's workshop, three men worked to cut down a large skin.
Aristocrats hated labor of all kinds.
This was not a place a refined person would live.
And upon entering the craft district, Lawrence became aware of their strange gazes upon him.
Even if it wasn't surprising they'd be curious at his arrival, given that they would know the faces of anyone who came here, there was something more than just curiosity in their gazes.
If he had to put his finger on it, they seemed to be on the lookout.
"I've brought a guest."
The driver of Lawrence's carriage knocked at the door with a cane as soon as they pulled up to the building.
The informality of it was surprising, but something about the way he knocked was odd, and it was probably some kind of signal.
Before long the door opened, and from within emerged a face Lawrence was not unfamiliar with.
It was one of the mean-eyed young men who'd been with Eve on the delta.
"Inside," he said, jerking his head back after giving Lawrence an appraising look.
Lawrence couldn't shake the feeling that he'd gotten himself involved in something big, but having realized it, it was not as though he could do anything about it.
After all, being frightened wasn't in his best interests, so Lawrence armed himself with his merchant's curiosity.
He gave the silent driver a nod and got out of the carriage, then unhesitatingly reached for the door.
The weathered door suited the house, which was one step away from being completely dilapidated, but the wood it used was solid, and most importantly, it did not creak.
When he opened the door and entered, he saw the man who'd greeted him leaning against the wall, regarding him.
No matter where a merchant found himself delivered, he couldn't help smiling.
Lawrence gave the man a pleasant smile, and the man, who wore an obvious sword at his belt, indicated a hallway with his eyes.
The walls were half-stone and half-wood, and the floor was packed earth.
The place had probably been a craftsman's workshop at one point.
As he walked farther in, his feet scuff-scuffing audibly on the floor, he found himself calmed by the scent he smelled—it was burning wood, which suited the season.
He opened the door at the end of the hallway, revealing what seemed to be a workshop-turned-living room. At the moment, though, it was no more than a storage space, with crates and barrels piled high and no particular sense that anyone was living there.
On the left side of the room there was a fireplace, and the area seemed to be set up to let someone pass at least a bit of time there.
"Surprised, are you?" Sitting in a chair and warming herself in front of the fire, Eve looked up from a bundle of parchment.
She looked not unlike a noblewoman reading over petitions from her land's residents, but when she looked back and revealed her face, Lawrence was a bit surprised.
The left corner of her mouth was red and swollen.

Output:
It took Lawrence a moment to realize she was joking.
It seemed unlikely that she'd fallen and hurt herself, so someone must have hit her.
"Sorry to call you out so suddenly."
"...Not at all. I'm honored to be summoned for a secret rendezvous with a beautiful woman."
Spoken with a smile, it was a bad joke.
Spoken seriously, it was the opposite.
"A secret rendezvous, eh? Well, anyway, sit. Sadly, I've no servants," said Eve, indicating an empty chair. Her gaze fell back down to the parchment in her hand before she watched Lawrence sit.
"It's a bit chilly as homes go."
Resting her left elbow on the table, Eve remained facing the fireplace as she regarded the parchment before her.
She offered Lawrence no reply.
"Still, I imagine it's nice and cool in the summertime."
"It's winter now," she replied harshly, which Lawrence smiled at.
"So much the better. It'll be warm if you get out."
At this Eve finally looked up.
Her mouth looked like it hurt, but her eyes were smiling. "Heh. Right you are. I'd love to get out; the sooner the better."
"So why here?" He left out "Why are you locked up here?" given the man who was undoubtedly listening in on their conversation outside the room.
Eve sighed, and setting down the parchment, she spoke. "You would hide your weapons of last resort, too, would you not?"
"...I would, it's true."
As a former aristocrat and someone even top members of guild houses like Kieman recognized on sight, Eve was probably the Kerube landowners' trump card.
Lawrence glanced at the aging parchment on the table, and from the rows of writing and formulas, he could tell it was a property transaction of some kind.
Essentially, Eve was being forced to plan the battle here, all on her own.
"Of course, the reason I'm locked up in here at sword point isn't because of this contract. Nor did I call you out here to suggest you cross some dangerous bridge with me."
Only Eve, who'd dragged him into a deeply dangerous deal back in Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, could make this joke.
"Still, I'm glad you let yourself be caught. If things go badly, I'll need my bread torn into rather small pieces tonight."
Lawrence realized they were moving from pleasant chitchat into a business discussion.
What Eve meant was simple.
Whoever hit her left cheek would also hit her right.
"The reason I called you is indeed the commotion in the town—you noticed it, yes?"
"Yes...something about the fishermen's boats from this side of town docking in the south, was it?"
"Indeed. It's as though God timed it. The news reached us as we were leaving the delta and returning to this side. It's like a different town across the river. We'd be recognized, so once the rioting started we couldn't cross. Even though our spies made it to the south side, there wasn't time for them to return."
This sort of talk was not especially familiar to Lawrence, who traveled from town to town, but it wasn't as though he couldn't understand the basic idea of a territorial dispute.
As Eve spoke, Lawrence realized why he'd been summoned.
He didn't yet know how important it was, but his merchant's instincts were making him sit up and pay attention—that much he was sure of.
"As I'm sure you've guessed, there's information I need. I reckon you were at that delta guild house right up until the last moment. What did you hear there, I wonder?"
Eve was speaking as though she knew that Lawrence had been at the guild house.
Practically speaking, she knew that he was a member of the Rowen Trade Guild, so it wouldn't have been hard to guess he'd been there.
But given that she was bringing this up here and now, there could be no doubt that the people who'd locked Eve up were observing him.
Of course, this could also be a trap she'd laid just to make him think so.
"I know a bit."
"Even a bit is fine."
Lawrence dropped his gaze to the parchment on the table, considering how much he should hide.
But after a moment, when he looked up, he spoke openly and frankly.


Instruction: Given first part of the popular LightNovel spice and wolf as input, continue the story the best you can.

Input:
It took Lawrence a moment to realize she was joking.
It seemed unlikely that she'd fallen and hurt herself, so someone must have hit her.
"Sorry to call you out so suddenly."
"...Not at all. I'm honored to be summoned for a secret rendezvous with a beautiful woman."
Spoken with a smile, it was a bad joke.
Spoken seriously, it was the opposite.
"A secret rendezvous, eh? Well, anyway, sit. Sadly, I've no servants," said Eve, indicating an empty chair. Her gaze fell back down to the parchment in her hand before she watched Lawrence sit.
"It's a bit chilly as homes go."
Resting her left elbow on the table, Eve remained facing the fireplace as she regarded the parchment before her.
She offered Lawrence no reply.
"Still, I imagine it's nice and cool in the summertime."
"It's winter now," she replied harshly, which Lawrence smiled at.
"So much the better. It'll be warm if you get out."
At this Eve finally looked up.
Her mouth looked like it hurt, but her eyes were smiling. "Heh. Right you are. I'd love to get out; the sooner the better."
"So why here?" He left out "Why are you locked up here?" given the man who was undoubtedly listening in on their conversation outside the room.
Eve sighed, and setting down the parchment, she spoke. "You would hide your weapons of last resort, too, would you not?"
"...I would, it's true."
As a former aristocrat and someone even top members of guild houses like Kieman recognized on sight, Eve was probably the Kerube landowners' trump card.
Lawrence glanced at the aging parchment on the table, and from the rows of writing and formulas, he could tell it was a property transaction of some kind.
Essentially, Eve was being forced to plan the battle here, all on her own.
"Of course, the reason I'm locked up in here at sword point isn't because of this contract. Nor did I call you out here to suggest you cross some dangerous bridge with me."
Only Eve, who'd dragged him into a deeply dangerous deal back in Lenos, the town of lumber and fur, could make this joke.
"Still, I'm glad you let yourself be caught. If things go badly, I'll need my bread torn into rather small pieces tonight."
Lawrence realized they were moving from pleasant chitchat into a business discussion.
What Eve meant was simple.
Whoever hit her left cheek would also hit her right.
"The reason I called you is indeed the commotion in the town—you noticed it, yes?"
"Yes...something about the fishermen's boats from this side of town docking in the south, was it?"
"Indeed. It's as though God timed it. The news reached us as we were leaving the delta and returning to this side. It's like a different town across the river. We'd be recognized, so once the rioting started we couldn't cross. Even though our spies made it to the south side, there wasn't time for them to return."
This sort of talk was not especially familiar to Lawrence, who traveled from town to town, but it wasn't as though he couldn't understand the basic idea of a territorial dispute.
As Eve spoke, Lawrence realized why he'd been summoned.
He didn't yet know how important it was, but his merchant's instincts were making him sit up and pay attention—that much he was sure of.
"As I'm sure you've guessed, there's information I need. I reckon you were at that delta guild house right up until the last moment. What did you hear there, I wonder?"
Eve was speaking as though she knew that Lawrence had been at the guild house.
Practically speaking, she knew that he was a member of the Rowen Trade Guild, so it wouldn't have been hard to guess he'd been there.
But given that she was bringing this up here and now, there could be no doubt that the people who'd locked Eve up were observing him.
Of course, this could also be a trap she'd laid just to make him think so.
"I know a bit."
"Even a bit is fine."
Lawrence dropped his gaze to the parchment on the table, considering how much he should hide.
But after a moment, when he looked up, he spoke openly and frankly.

Output:
He'd told his opponent everything he knew without asking for any compensation, and yet this was not an uncalculated move.
"...Is that hearsay?"
"My companion got quite close to the church evidently," said Lawrence, and Eve exhaled a deep breath, looked up, and closed her eyes.
She then composed herself and opened her eyes.
"So that's it, is it?"
Lawrence had been right not to lie to Eve.
She didn't have time to bargain with him just to get a bit of information.
"I'm glad you're not some stingy-talking small fry."
"Ah, but if I were a big fish, I wouldn't have to come when called."
"True enough. But when you're a big fish, the world is filled with passages too narrow for you to pass."
The odds could not have been good that Lawrence would have information about the disturbance in the town.
Even if he had been at the trading house, there was no guarantee he would have gotten the information.
Yet she'd found a way to hide her good nature and call Lawrence here, which meant there had to be another reason she'd done so.
And then the reason he'd vaguely anticipated was made clear by her words.
"So are you telling me to go down a small passage?"
"You're in a unique position in this town. You don't have any proper connections here, but you're able to have a pleasant conversation with someone that many in this town are very eager to connect with."
Eve's eyes narrowed in a smile.
As he listened to her words, the image of Kieman claiming to be acquainted with Eve flashed through his mind.
"Of course, I won't say it's free. The story was told to me by the lot that locked me up in here, and their bellies are too large for them to fit through its paths."
She waved a single page of parchment.
It was a contract, signed and stamped.
It was written in the old-style writing and involved the delta marketplace.
"I've only meager coin and goods, sadly, but I've more than enough connections and influence. It'll be a good footing for business."
"And not a yoke?" asked Lawrence, and the fake smile disappeared from Eve's face as she turned expressionless.
"...Yes, a yoke." She reached up and touched her cheek, then looked at her fingers, probably checking for blood. "Aren't you going to ask me how I got this wound?"
"How'd you get it?" Lawrence immediately asked, at which Eve's shoulders shook with mirth, and she covered her mouth like a town lass.
The fact that she seemed genuinely amused was painful to see.
"Well played. It's not that I'm asking you only because you're in the best position."
"But I'm also not badly placed to cross that dangerous bridge."
This was not merely banter.
The moment he let his guard down was the moment he'd be crossing that bridge free of charge.
"My exploiting a gap and your protecting what you have are not the same thing."
"Indeed. My conversations with my companion cut me to the bone."
Constantly on the defensive, Lawrence knew he would eventually lose to Eve.
She nodded and changed her expression. "There's no longer much doubt. The north-side fisherman caught a narwhal."
"A nar—" Lawrence began, but then hastily checked the door over his shoulder.
"Don't worry, he's not such cheap help that he'd eavesdrop on me. The people who locked me up here are terrified I'll get angry, even though they did this to me."
Lawrence didn't know how far he could trust that, but there was nothing to be gained by doubting them.
He nodded and faced forward, then asked the question again. "A narwhal? As in the immortal sort?"
"Yes. A horned sea monster. Eating its flesh brings longevity, and its powdered horn cures all diseases."
Lawrence believed such things to be superstitions, and from Eve's tone, it seemed she was not serious.
"I'd heard that without freezing water they die, so how would one make it this far south?"