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

Input:
"You're a merchant who buys with coin, are you not? So are you your companion's ally or her enemy? Are you righteous? Or...are you evil?"
Col froze, suddenly surprised.
It was true—Lawrence was a merchant who made money and dealt with goods on those terms.
Which put him in the same class as those who were attempting to buy the bones of a wolf that was said to have been a god and to put them to who knew what use. Merchants opened all doors with the key of coin.
If this talk of the wolf bone was true and if they managed to discover its whereabouts, Lawrence would surely put his merchant's skills to use in recovering it.
And when he did, what would Holo and Col think of that?
In such a case, was Lawrence their ally? Or was the act itself inherently evil or inherently good?
Lawrence put the goat's milk to his lips before answering.
"It's no sin to buy goods with money. What's often evil is buying things that are not mere goods."
"Meaning?"
"If I were to buy the bone in an attempt to gain influence or power or to attract her attention to me, then she would surely loathe me. But money is after all a tool for purchasing goods. It only becomes evil when it's used to buy other things, like an ax used as a weapon rather than to cut wood. And my companion knows that."
Eve narrowed her eyes, her lips curling still further.
Merchants who dealt with all things in terms of money were often asked about the virtue of such a life.
A merchant's status was reckoned based on how they were able to answer when such a question was put to them.
The quality of one's sense of justice was the measure of a person; placed on a scale, it would balance against his trustworthiness.
It was not certain whether Eve believed it to quite that degree, but the idea was clearly at least part of her calculations.
She smiled grimly upon hearing Lawrence's answer, and her expression suddenly softened as she thrust out the cup she held in her hand. "Well, you're the sort I'd want to do business with. Sorry for asking such strange questions."
Lawrence, too, relaxed his uninjured left cheek and raised his own cup in answer to Eve's.
She barely avoided touching her cup to his, a technique normally used to avoid damaging expensive silver chalices. Her use of the technique showed that she felt the occasion was worthy of fine silver.
"I've said before, I envy you and your companion. I've never felt that so much as I do now."
"I shall take that as a point of pride."
Eve's shoulders shook with her voiceless laugh.
Her gaze shifted from Lawrence to Col, and her merchant's face returned as she spoke. "I understand that you're not Kraft Lawrence's apprentice, and I must tell you, from the depths of my heart, that I think that's a waste."
Col blinked rapidly at the words, then looked down, troubled.
Even as he laughed, Lawrence thought it a shame.
Col's consternation meant that he could not even entertain Eve's suggestion.
Eve seemed to understand that, too, and she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was looking at Lawrence. "You probably know this, but the news of the Debau Company searching for the wolf bone is no hundred-lumione tale. If you bungle things, you'll learn just how cheap a human life can be. And yet I trust my merchant's instincts, and I'm thinking of trusting you just as much."
Lawrence swirled his cup around, then brought its contents slowly to his lips.
If he failed to make a grand gesture here, Holo would surely be angry with him.
"I've chosen life over wealth. But I value my companion still more than my life, so I have expectations of my own."
His true feelings were out now in this dialogue of life and death with Eve.

Output:
In that moment, he could have fallen for her. Though Lawrence knew if he ever admitted it to Holo, she would tear his throat out, it was nonetheless true.
Eve was a merchant's merchant.
She had perfect control over her facial expressions and knew exactly what information they conveyed.
Lawrence drooped his head respectfully.
He understood now what sort of merchant one had to be to walk the path of gold.
Eve trimmed a piece of high-quality sheepskin parchment, wrote the letter, then sprinkled sand on the wet ink to dry it. As she waited for it to set, she readied horsetail twine and red sealing wax.
Confirming that the ink was dry, she rolled the parchment, sealed it with molten wax, and secured it with a length of the twine. The letter was complete.
It cost enough to prepare such a thing that despite it being but a single letter, no merchant could ignore it.
Eve said that she hoped to do business with Lawrence again sometime, and he felt as though he could believe her.
"If all goes well, I'll depart this town just after midday tomorrow. I'll be heading south by sea, bidding this cold country farewell for a while."
"I'll see you off by way of thanks, then. It may be my last time to see you before you're quite the merchant prince."
As Lawrence lightly held the proffered letter up, Eve nodded with a bitter smile. "I'll be resting up for the journey today. If you come in the evening, you should be able to enjoy the food the servant prepares."
"And if I come while the sun's up?"
Eve's smile was equivalent to a normal person's expression of surprise.
Her smile hardened for a moment, but at length she folded her arms and sighed. "If I'm the only one in the house...yes, well. Perhaps I shall treat you to a demonstration of my skill."
Back in Lenos, the first time Lawrence had properly exchanged words with Eve, she had claimed to have confidence in her own charm.
And now it seemed that was no lie.
Eve spoke in a soft tone entirely worthy of the nobility she had once been, its hoarse, aristocratic timbre tickling Lawrence's ear.
Col gaped at Eve, his mouth wide open.
When she acted like that, it was easy to believe she had once been a noblewoman.
"Pork and beef may not be the only things getting cooked. I'll need to be careful."
"Heh. Well, if your companion's mood has improved, all three of you should come."
"We shall. Thank you for the letter," Lawrence answered. Eve nodded and gave a little wave, then slowly closed the door.
No merchant ever waved to their counterpart upon parting. The gesture must have been directed at Col, who was still diagonally back from Lawrence.
Lawrence carefully tucked the letter into his coat, then glanced back.
Perhaps not surprisingly, he saw Col looking somewhat wistfully at the now-closed door.
"She's quite an interesting person, eh?" asked Lawrence as he began walking, which brought Col back to the present, and he hastened to follow behind.
"Um...y-yes, she is..."
"Still, she's the one who gave me this," admitted Lawrence, pointing to the cheek where Col's special salve had been applied. Col seemed not to understand what Lawrence meant.
Finally the words' meaning penetrated his head, and Col looked back at the house with disbelief on his face.
"We had a bit of a quarrel, and she struck me with a hatchet handle."
"...I...see..."
"She's got an unexpected side to her, and that's why you can't let your guard down. Just as the scarf around her head conceals her beauty, her beauty conceals something quite terrible."
Col's eyebrows arched up. Perhaps he just could not quite grasp what Lawrence was saying.
"You saw Holo's anger last night, didn't you? The truth is, Eve nearly killed me."
"Wha—!" Col raised his voice in surprise.
It was true that upon her first meeting with Col, Eve had appeared very kind indeed, which no doubt made it difficult to imagine that she had enough shrewd, coolheaded nerve to put any bandit to shame.


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

Input:
In that moment, he could have fallen for her. Though Lawrence knew if he ever admitted it to Holo, she would tear his throat out, it was nonetheless true.
Eve was a merchant's merchant.
She had perfect control over her facial expressions and knew exactly what information they conveyed.
Lawrence drooped his head respectfully.
He understood now what sort of merchant one had to be to walk the path of gold.
Eve trimmed a piece of high-quality sheepskin parchment, wrote the letter, then sprinkled sand on the wet ink to dry it. As she waited for it to set, she readied horsetail twine and red sealing wax.
Confirming that the ink was dry, she rolled the parchment, sealed it with molten wax, and secured it with a length of the twine. The letter was complete.
It cost enough to prepare such a thing that despite it being but a single letter, no merchant could ignore it.
Eve said that she hoped to do business with Lawrence again sometime, and he felt as though he could believe her.
"If all goes well, I'll depart this town just after midday tomorrow. I'll be heading south by sea, bidding this cold country farewell for a while."
"I'll see you off by way of thanks, then. It may be my last time to see you before you're quite the merchant prince."
As Lawrence lightly held the proffered letter up, Eve nodded with a bitter smile. "I'll be resting up for the journey today. If you come in the evening, you should be able to enjoy the food the servant prepares."
"And if I come while the sun's up?"
Eve's smile was equivalent to a normal person's expression of surprise.
Her smile hardened for a moment, but at length she folded her arms and sighed. "If I'm the only one in the house...yes, well. Perhaps I shall treat you to a demonstration of my skill."
Back in Lenos, the first time Lawrence had properly exchanged words with Eve, she had claimed to have confidence in her own charm.
And now it seemed that was no lie.
Eve spoke in a soft tone entirely worthy of the nobility she had once been, its hoarse, aristocratic timbre tickling Lawrence's ear.
Col gaped at Eve, his mouth wide open.
When she acted like that, it was easy to believe she had once been a noblewoman.
"Pork and beef may not be the only things getting cooked. I'll need to be careful."
"Heh. Well, if your companion's mood has improved, all three of you should come."
"We shall. Thank you for the letter," Lawrence answered. Eve nodded and gave a little wave, then slowly closed the door.
No merchant ever waved to their counterpart upon parting. The gesture must have been directed at Col, who was still diagonally back from Lawrence.
Lawrence carefully tucked the letter into his coat, then glanced back.
Perhaps not surprisingly, he saw Col looking somewhat wistfully at the now-closed door.
"She's quite an interesting person, eh?" asked Lawrence as he began walking, which brought Col back to the present, and he hastened to follow behind.
"Um...y-yes, she is..."
"Still, she's the one who gave me this," admitted Lawrence, pointing to the cheek where Col's special salve had been applied. Col seemed not to understand what Lawrence meant.
Finally the words' meaning penetrated his head, and Col looked back at the house with disbelief on his face.
"We had a bit of a quarrel, and she struck me with a hatchet handle."
"...I...see..."
"She's got an unexpected side to her, and that's why you can't let your guard down. Just as the scarf around her head conceals her beauty, her beauty conceals something quite terrible."
Col's eyebrows arched up. Perhaps he just could not quite grasp what Lawrence was saying.
"You saw Holo's anger last night, didn't you? The truth is, Eve nearly killed me."
"Wha—!" Col raised his voice in surprise.
It was true that upon her first meeting with Col, Eve had appeared very kind indeed, which no doubt made it difficult to imagine that she had enough shrewd, coolheaded nerve to put any bandit to shame.

Output:
He was a good, honest lad, and for him to doubt anyone at all was not in his nature.
Lawrence was musing upon this when Col suddenly looked up at him with such a look of extreme consternation on his face that Lawrence couldn't help but ask, "What's the matter?"
Evidently, Col was often like this.
He was clever, but as long as he had no control over his facial expressions and the words he spoke, he would never make a good merchant.
Instead, he would make an excellent member of the clergy, so it wasn't really a problem.
"It's true, then...that to survive in the world, one must be like her...," said Col, head drooping in frustration.
He seemed to accuse himself, like a young knight cursing his lack of effort upon losing a joust.
But Lawrence did not know why Col was so affected.
How was his near murder at Eve's hands connected to surviving in the world?
Maybe it was the fact that he had been forced to find a way to survive despite the threat to his life.
Lawrence was mulling it over, but then Col resumed speaking, and he decided to listen to the boy.
"Of course, I don't just accept the teachings of the Church, either, and even back in the village there were hard times...and naturally I think that sometimes you can't just look at one thing, and even I know the world is an unforgiving place. But still..."
As he walked, Col looked at his feet.
By contrast, Lawrence's gaze was turned up to the clear sky.
Such was the extent to which he had no idea what Col was saying.
"Look—" Lawrence was about to try to get the story straight when Col suddenly looked up.
"B-but, I don't—I don't think you're in the wrong, Mr. Lawrence!"
Lawrence could not help but widen his eyes at the boy's urgent ferocity.
"...Qu-quite. I was simply going to say that I have no idea what you're talking about and perhaps ask you to clarify."
At this, Col's face went suddenly blank, and he then reddened and looked down.
Lawrence scratched his head, tilting it in confusion.
He did not understand.
He did not understand, but as Col seemed not to want to discuss the matter, Lawrence decided to change the subject.
"In any case, we should return to the inn before we make our way to the Jean Company."
Col nodded silently in response to Lawrence's words.
"So that's what he said."
Claiming that if she removed the blanket, the smell from the salve that still lingered on her body would escape and cause her nose to fall off, Holo remained under it with only her face exposed. "Is that so?"
"Would you have understood what he was on about?"
Once Lawrence had returned to the room, the dozing Holo soon awoke. Whereupon she sat up like usual, her head cocked in a queer expression. She seemed physically uncomfortable, and Lawrence soon realized the reason.
Despite not being able to even properly sit up in the morning, the pain she'd felt then had disappeared so thoroughly she could barely remember it.
"That's quite the medicine," she said.
Thus it was that Holo decided to come along on the visit to the Jean Company.
However, they couldn't very well go there immediately. She smelled so bad that she—along with Lawrence—would have to bathe first.
Their current topic of conversation, Col, had gone downstairs to arrange the hot water.
"I suppose I cannot blame you for failing to understand. 'Twould be like asking a butcher about fish," said Holo, sitting atop a pillow as she yawned hugely.
Lawrence considered heaving another sigh at being made fun of yet again, but at this point, he had no intention of putting on airs and so capitulated quickly.
"At this point, I'll readily admit that I'm the slow one. But having admitted that doesn't suddenly give me any new insight. I still don't understand."
But even when Lawrence raised the white flag, Holo simply stared, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence asked, whereupon a bitter smile slowly appeared on her face.
"Heh. Perhaps it is I who's the unusually kind one." She twitched one ear.
"What do you mean?"


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

Input:
He was a good, honest lad, and for him to doubt anyone at all was not in his nature.
Lawrence was musing upon this when Col suddenly looked up at him with such a look of extreme consternation on his face that Lawrence couldn't help but ask, "What's the matter?"
Evidently, Col was often like this.
He was clever, but as long as he had no control over his facial expressions and the words he spoke, he would never make a good merchant.
Instead, he would make an excellent member of the clergy, so it wasn't really a problem.
"It's true, then...that to survive in the world, one must be like her...," said Col, head drooping in frustration.
He seemed to accuse himself, like a young knight cursing his lack of effort upon losing a joust.
But Lawrence did not know why Col was so affected.
How was his near murder at Eve's hands connected to surviving in the world?
Maybe it was the fact that he had been forced to find a way to survive despite the threat to his life.
Lawrence was mulling it over, but then Col resumed speaking, and he decided to listen to the boy.
"Of course, I don't just accept the teachings of the Church, either, and even back in the village there were hard times...and naturally I think that sometimes you can't just look at one thing, and even I know the world is an unforgiving place. But still..."
As he walked, Col looked at his feet.
By contrast, Lawrence's gaze was turned up to the clear sky.
Such was the extent to which he had no idea what Col was saying.
"Look—" Lawrence was about to try to get the story straight when Col suddenly looked up.
"B-but, I don't—I don't think you're in the wrong, Mr. Lawrence!"
Lawrence could not help but widen his eyes at the boy's urgent ferocity.
"...Qu-quite. I was simply going to say that I have no idea what you're talking about and perhaps ask you to clarify."
At this, Col's face went suddenly blank, and he then reddened and looked down.
Lawrence scratched his head, tilting it in confusion.
He did not understand.
He did not understand, but as Col seemed not to want to discuss the matter, Lawrence decided to change the subject.
"In any case, we should return to the inn before we make our way to the Jean Company."
Col nodded silently in response to Lawrence's words.
"So that's what he said."
Claiming that if she removed the blanket, the smell from the salve that still lingered on her body would escape and cause her nose to fall off, Holo remained under it with only her face exposed. "Is that so?"
"Would you have understood what he was on about?"
Once Lawrence had returned to the room, the dozing Holo soon awoke. Whereupon she sat up like usual, her head cocked in a queer expression. She seemed physically uncomfortable, and Lawrence soon realized the reason.
Despite not being able to even properly sit up in the morning, the pain she'd felt then had disappeared so thoroughly she could barely remember it.
"That's quite the medicine," she said.
Thus it was that Holo decided to come along on the visit to the Jean Company.
However, they couldn't very well go there immediately. She smelled so bad that she—along with Lawrence—would have to bathe first.
Their current topic of conversation, Col, had gone downstairs to arrange the hot water.
"I suppose I cannot blame you for failing to understand. 'Twould be like asking a butcher about fish," said Holo, sitting atop a pillow as she yawned hugely.
Lawrence considered heaving another sigh at being made fun of yet again, but at this point, he had no intention of putting on airs and so capitulated quickly.
"At this point, I'll readily admit that I'm the slow one. But having admitted that doesn't suddenly give me any new insight. I still don't understand."
But even when Lawrence raised the white flag, Holo simply stared, tears welling up in her eyes.
"What's wrong?" Lawrence asked, whereupon a bitter smile slowly appeared on her face.
"Heh. Perhaps it is I who's the unusually kind one." She twitched one ear.
"What do you mean?"

Output:
***
Regardless of how he should have answered, Holo seemed satisfied with the pained way he bobbed his head.
She grinned her usual malicious grin, showing her teeth. "Still, I suppose it would be hard for you to understand, as you already know the truth of the matter. Can you really not imagine what an outsider might think, watching what transpired between you and that vixen?"
Her malicious grin offered a clue to the correct interpretation of her statement. Merchants turned a profit based on their ability to correctly read people's dispositions; thus Lawrence could not refuse this challenge.
Above all, the direction of the correct interpretation had already been made clear.
Lawrence considered his conversation with Eve from Col's perspective.
She had struck him with a hatchet handle and even threatened his life, which Holo had raged at Eve for with terrible fury—and when Col had heard about this, he seemed deeply troubled, blushing scarlet with embarrassment.
"Oh." A possibility occurred to Lawrence, a bitter taste suffusing his mouth.
Yet the bitterness was not distasteful; it was akin to a tart ale.
A bitterness at which he couldn't help laughing.
"Heh. You're quite the lucky one, eh?" asked Holo, pleased.
Her smile came from the fact that she knew full well that Col's misunderstanding would never come to pass.
Lawrence brought his hand to his head again and heaved a sigh. He supposed that such misunderstandings did happen from time to time, but still—to think that he should find himself in a position to be thus miscomprehended! He couldn't help but smile ruefully at himself.
"He thinks that I had an affair with Eve, which ended in a lovers' quarrel. I never would've imagined it. That's why he was going on about not thinking I was 'in the wrong.'"
He wanted to say something about having an affair with Holo, but he was quite sure he would be risking his life to make such a joke.
"That vixen's a female, and I'm a female, and you're a male. If we're speaking of conflicts that have come to blows, there can really be only one answer, can there not? That all of this fuss was actually over nothing more than gold is stranger by far. My price was sixty of those golden pieces, was it not? Honestly, I will never understand the human world," declared Holo, exasperated.
And indeed, when Lawrence thought back on how he had struggled for her sake, he felt extremely ill at ease.
But she was still Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu.
And she'd long since seen right through him.
"Still, your actions were the least understandable of all. Coming to see me off, of all things—what a total, utter fool," said Holo, burying her amused face in her pillow.
And yet her eyes never left Lawrence.
Given her words and her actions, Lawrence could hardly be angry with her, nor could he look away.
His shoulders slumped as if to accentuate his defeat, and he lightly stroked Holo's cheek.
"Is that all?" she asked quietly under his hand, closing one eye and twitching her ears happily.
Lawrence braced himself for a joke of some kind but then realized that Holo would surely be angry if he took her that way.
And yet he could not help looking around the room a little bit, despite knowing full well that nobody else was there.
He took a deep breath.
And then, just like in Lenos, he brought his face closer to Holo.
However, unlike in Lenos, just when he was so close to Holo that he could count the hairs of her eyebrows, there was a sudden knock at the door, at which Lawrence jumped in surprise.
"I brought the hot water!" echoed Col's voice throughout the room.
He held the door open with his back as he carried the washtub in. It had to be heavy, and the steam that rose from it had collected on his face, covering it in droplets of water. There was no question the boy had labored mightily on Lawrence and Holo's behalf.
What reason could there be for him to be angry at such a boy?
Still standing beside the bed, Lawrence smiled benevolently. "Good job," he complimented.


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

Input:
***
Regardless of how he should have answered, Holo seemed satisfied with the pained way he bobbed his head.
She grinned her usual malicious grin, showing her teeth. "Still, I suppose it would be hard for you to understand, as you already know the truth of the matter. Can you really not imagine what an outsider might think, watching what transpired between you and that vixen?"
Her malicious grin offered a clue to the correct interpretation of her statement. Merchants turned a profit based on their ability to correctly read people's dispositions; thus Lawrence could not refuse this challenge.
Above all, the direction of the correct interpretation had already been made clear.
Lawrence considered his conversation with Eve from Col's perspective.
She had struck him with a hatchet handle and even threatened his life, which Holo had raged at Eve for with terrible fury—and when Col had heard about this, he seemed deeply troubled, blushing scarlet with embarrassment.
"Oh." A possibility occurred to Lawrence, a bitter taste suffusing his mouth.
Yet the bitterness was not distasteful; it was akin to a tart ale.
A bitterness at which he couldn't help laughing.
"Heh. You're quite the lucky one, eh?" asked Holo, pleased.
Her smile came from the fact that she knew full well that Col's misunderstanding would never come to pass.
Lawrence brought his hand to his head again and heaved a sigh. He supposed that such misunderstandings did happen from time to time, but still—to think that he should find himself in a position to be thus miscomprehended! He couldn't help but smile ruefully at himself.
"He thinks that I had an affair with Eve, which ended in a lovers' quarrel. I never would've imagined it. That's why he was going on about not thinking I was 'in the wrong.'"
He wanted to say something about having an affair with Holo, but he was quite sure he would be risking his life to make such a joke.
"That vixen's a female, and I'm a female, and you're a male. If we're speaking of conflicts that have come to blows, there can really be only one answer, can there not? That all of this fuss was actually over nothing more than gold is stranger by far. My price was sixty of those golden pieces, was it not? Honestly, I will never understand the human world," declared Holo, exasperated.
And indeed, when Lawrence thought back on how he had struggled for her sake, he felt extremely ill at ease.
But she was still Holo, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu.
And she'd long since seen right through him.
"Still, your actions were the least understandable of all. Coming to see me off, of all things—what a total, utter fool," said Holo, burying her amused face in her pillow.
And yet her eyes never left Lawrence.
Given her words and her actions, Lawrence could hardly be angry with her, nor could he look away.
His shoulders slumped as if to accentuate his defeat, and he lightly stroked Holo's cheek.
"Is that all?" she asked quietly under his hand, closing one eye and twitching her ears happily.
Lawrence braced himself for a joke of some kind but then realized that Holo would surely be angry if he took her that way.
And yet he could not help looking around the room a little bit, despite knowing full well that nobody else was there.
He took a deep breath.
And then, just like in Lenos, he brought his face closer to Holo.
However, unlike in Lenos, just when he was so close to Holo that he could count the hairs of her eyebrows, there was a sudden knock at the door, at which Lawrence jumped in surprise.
"I brought the hot water!" echoed Col's voice throughout the room.
He held the door open with his back as he carried the washtub in. It had to be heavy, and the steam that rose from it had collected on his face, covering it in droplets of water. There was no question the boy had labored mightily on Lawrence and Holo's behalf.
What reason could there be for him to be angry at such a boy?
Still standing beside the bed, Lawrence smiled benevolently. "Good job," he complimented.

Output:
The moment the knock on the door had come, Holo had made a truly vicious expression.
Had her ears been twitching because she had heard Col's approaching footsteps?
"What's the matter?" Col asked.
While Lawrence's serene expression had been perfect, the mood in the room could not be changed so quickly.
Col's face looked a bit doubtful, but Lawrence feigned ignorance as best he could.
Holo was probably grinning atop her pillow behind him.
But the most irritating part of all of this was not Holo's enjoyment of Lawrence having blundered into the trap she'd set for him.
Lawrence put his hand to his left cheek, pretending to scratch an itch.
"I had them make it quite hot, so if it's too warm, I'll fetch some cold water," said Col, putting down the tub and placing two washcloths in it.
How much more pleasant travel would be, Lawrence mused, if he had an apprentice as thoughtful as Col.
"I understand. Thank you, Col."
"No, I'm the one who forced myself along on your journey. This is the least I can do."
His guileless smile made Lawrence muse that it would not be a bad idea to treat him to something tasty for dinner.
If Holo were to give Lawrence the same treatment, he reckoned he would be bankrupt within a month.
"Well, then, I shall help myself to the hot water straightaway. I can hardly believe how well this salve worked, but still, 'tis rather hard on my poor nose," said Holo as she climbed out of bed, at which Col seemed taken aback.
It appeared he truly did not find the odor of the salve unpleasant at all.
"Aye, 'tis good and hot. I'll douse myself in it before it turns lukewarm."
Holo plunged her hand into the tub and swirled the water around. It was still steaming energetically, but because the room was rather cold, the water was probably not as hot as it seemed.
"Ah, yes. If you're not careful, you'll catch cold," said Lawrence, and Holo took one of the washcloths, wrung it out, and lightly tossed it in his direction.
Catching it, he felt its damp warmth. Holo was right; it would be best to wipe himself clean sooner rather than later.
As the thought occurred to Lawrence, he went to remove the cloth from his right cheek, when he noticed Col, a short distance away, looking down uncomfortably.
"What's the matter?" he asked, though there was no need to, as Col seemed to have mustered the courage to speak.
"E-er, I'll just...be outside," he said, finishing his words with a forced smile.
He was obviously apprehensive about something.
As he was going out into the hall, he even gave Lawrence a significant look, as though Col had been entrusted with a deep and serious secret. Lawrence now knew all too well what the boy was surely thinking.
At the klunk of the closing door, Lawrence looked at Holo, who was wringing the other washcloth out with a serious expression.
"If he's in such a state, your talk with the vixen must have been friendly indeed."
The reasoning behind Col's serious expression went something like this.
For Col to have mistaken Lawrence and Eve's past conflict as a lovers' quarrel, Lawrence and Eve must have appeared to be quite close.
However, Lawrence knew full well that if he were to actually be involved with Eve, it would only amount to a loss for him.
"He looked at me like he was promising to keep my secret forever."
Holo glanced up, her face softening. "Heh-heh-heh. When he looked at me, it was as though he felt some deep pity." Squatting down, she brought her knees together and rested her chin atop them. "You'd have more charm if you were a bit more like him."
Not immediately replying to the statement, Lawrence peeled the cloth from his face.
A ginger touch to his cheek revealed that the swelling had gone down considerably, and he felt essentially no pain.
The medicine had been so effective that he found himself wondering if there might be a profit in it somewhere.
"Well, you know what they say—a bit of vermilion turns everything red. I've spent so much time around you that all my charm's gone."


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

Input:
The moment the knock on the door had come, Holo had made a truly vicious expression.
Had her ears been twitching because she had heard Col's approaching footsteps?
"What's the matter?" Col asked.
While Lawrence's serene expression had been perfect, the mood in the room could not be changed so quickly.
Col's face looked a bit doubtful, but Lawrence feigned ignorance as best he could.
Holo was probably grinning atop her pillow behind him.
But the most irritating part of all of this was not Holo's enjoyment of Lawrence having blundered into the trap she'd set for him.
Lawrence put his hand to his left cheek, pretending to scratch an itch.
"I had them make it quite hot, so if it's too warm, I'll fetch some cold water," said Col, putting down the tub and placing two washcloths in it.
How much more pleasant travel would be, Lawrence mused, if he had an apprentice as thoughtful as Col.
"I understand. Thank you, Col."
"No, I'm the one who forced myself along on your journey. This is the least I can do."
His guileless smile made Lawrence muse that it would not be a bad idea to treat him to something tasty for dinner.
If Holo were to give Lawrence the same treatment, he reckoned he would be bankrupt within a month.
"Well, then, I shall help myself to the hot water straightaway. I can hardly believe how well this salve worked, but still, 'tis rather hard on my poor nose," said Holo as she climbed out of bed, at which Col seemed taken aback.
It appeared he truly did not find the odor of the salve unpleasant at all.
"Aye, 'tis good and hot. I'll douse myself in it before it turns lukewarm."
Holo plunged her hand into the tub and swirled the water around. It was still steaming energetically, but because the room was rather cold, the water was probably not as hot as it seemed.
"Ah, yes. If you're not careful, you'll catch cold," said Lawrence, and Holo took one of the washcloths, wrung it out, and lightly tossed it in his direction.
Catching it, he felt its damp warmth. Holo was right; it would be best to wipe himself clean sooner rather than later.
As the thought occurred to Lawrence, he went to remove the cloth from his right cheek, when he noticed Col, a short distance away, looking down uncomfortably.
"What's the matter?" he asked, though there was no need to, as Col seemed to have mustered the courage to speak.
"E-er, I'll just...be outside," he said, finishing his words with a forced smile.
He was obviously apprehensive about something.
As he was going out into the hall, he even gave Lawrence a significant look, as though Col had been entrusted with a deep and serious secret. Lawrence now knew all too well what the boy was surely thinking.
At the klunk of the closing door, Lawrence looked at Holo, who was wringing the other washcloth out with a serious expression.
"If he's in such a state, your talk with the vixen must have been friendly indeed."
The reasoning behind Col's serious expression went something like this.
For Col to have mistaken Lawrence and Eve's past conflict as a lovers' quarrel, Lawrence and Eve must have appeared to be quite close.
However, Lawrence knew full well that if he were to actually be involved with Eve, it would only amount to a loss for him.
"He looked at me like he was promising to keep my secret forever."
Holo glanced up, her face softening. "Heh-heh-heh. When he looked at me, it was as though he felt some deep pity." Squatting down, she brought her knees together and rested her chin atop them. "You'd have more charm if you were a bit more like him."
Not immediately replying to the statement, Lawrence peeled the cloth from his face.
A ginger touch to his cheek revealed that the swelling had gone down considerably, and he felt essentially no pain.
The medicine had been so effective that he found himself wondering if there might be a profit in it somewhere.
"Well, you know what they say—a bit of vermilion turns everything red. I've spent so much time around you that all my charm's gone."

Output:
Holo followed his example, scrubbing her neck with the wrung-out washcloth and twitching her ears.
She seemed a bit surprised upon looking at the color of the cloth after giving her neck a once-over.
"'Tis true, and whoever said a bit of vermilion turns all red was wise indeed. After all, your face is always red."
Lawrence wiped his face again with what portion of the washcloth was free of the salve, and once he was clean, looked at Holo. "Not so much recently, though, no?"
"And whose mouth would say so?" inquired Holo, seemingly taken aback. Though he knew he was being provoked, Lawrence could not help but sulk a bit.
But when he saw Holo's mouth curl into a smile, he knew he had fallen into a snare.
"You claim otherwise, then? Well, since that boy's so considerately left us alone...," said Holo, rinsing her washcloth in the tub and wringing it clean before standing up.
Then she tossed the cloth at Lawrence and quickly stripped off the robe that covered her upper body.
Caught unawares, Lawrence was unavoidably startled.
Holo turned to him and put a hand on her shoulder. "Care to wash my back?" she offered flirtatiously.
While Holo thought nothing of showing her naked body, she was aware that the experience was different for Lawrence.
It was outrageous for her to capitalize on his sense of propriety.
Lawrence gave that excuse to his flustering, then balled up the washcloth and tossed it back at Holo.
The medicine Col made worked miraculously well.
While Holo still felt a bit shy of recovered, given how little time she'd had the salve on, it was almost unbelievably effective.
The swelling in Lawrence's face was mostly gone, as well.
But since Holo had reached out and pinched his cheek, asking, "And just how are you feeling?" he could not deny that the redness had increased.
He thought he was going to see stars, but while she was being awfully spiteful, Holo also seemed frustrated and angry, so he made no counterattack.
Evidently, she could not stomach his tossing the washcloth back at her.
This didn't seem to be an act, so she must have actually wanted him to wash her back.
From that perspective, he was the one in the wrong, and so Lawrence felt himself to be in a difficult place.
"So, what's this? The trading company you're about to visit is involved in some foolish scheme?"
They had ventured out along the most obvious street and were headed for the riverside marketplace. A marketplace implied stalls, and Lawrence had been prepared for Holo's begging.
But he had not imagined that she would bolt for the very first stall she sniffed.
He followed her with his eyes, feeling something like a faint headache, and saw that the stall had heated stones atop of which sea snails sizzled and frothed as they were cooked in their shells.
"We're going to figure out whether they are scheming, but according to Eve, there's a good possibility that they are."
Whether or not Holo was actually listening to him, her eyes shone as she wordlessly prodded him.
As she wasn't going to take no for an answer, Lawrence decided to avoid a pointless struggle.
The shopkeeper was busily shaving skewers with a knife, and when Lawrence presented him with a blackened copper coin, he adroitly took a skewer and extracted the snail meat from a shell with it, and in no time at all, he had three snails skewered.
Lawrence ordered three servings of the same.
Just as he was thinking it was rather cheap, it turned out the salt that gave the shellfish their delightful flavor cost extra.
Lawrence grinned and gave some choice words of complaint to the shrewd shopkeeper, then asked where he could find the Jean Company.
He had to get his information fee's worth.
"Even if we go, will they really talk to us?" asked Col after taking one of the skewers and giving his thanks.
Naturally, Lawrence had already cleared up the boy's misunderstanding about Eve.
"That's just as Eve said. It'll depend on my skill."


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

Input:
Holo followed his example, scrubbing her neck with the wrung-out washcloth and twitching her ears.
She seemed a bit surprised upon looking at the color of the cloth after giving her neck a once-over.
"'Tis true, and whoever said a bit of vermilion turns all red was wise indeed. After all, your face is always red."
Lawrence wiped his face again with what portion of the washcloth was free of the salve, and once he was clean, looked at Holo. "Not so much recently, though, no?"
"And whose mouth would say so?" inquired Holo, seemingly taken aback. Though he knew he was being provoked, Lawrence could not help but sulk a bit.
But when he saw Holo's mouth curl into a smile, he knew he had fallen into a snare.
"You claim otherwise, then? Well, since that boy's so considerately left us alone...," said Holo, rinsing her washcloth in the tub and wringing it clean before standing up.
Then she tossed the cloth at Lawrence and quickly stripped off the robe that covered her upper body.
Caught unawares, Lawrence was unavoidably startled.
Holo turned to him and put a hand on her shoulder. "Care to wash my back?" she offered flirtatiously.
While Holo thought nothing of showing her naked body, she was aware that the experience was different for Lawrence.
It was outrageous for her to capitalize on his sense of propriety.
Lawrence gave that excuse to his flustering, then balled up the washcloth and tossed it back at Holo.
The medicine Col made worked miraculously well.
While Holo still felt a bit shy of recovered, given how little time she'd had the salve on, it was almost unbelievably effective.
The swelling in Lawrence's face was mostly gone, as well.
But since Holo had reached out and pinched his cheek, asking, "And just how are you feeling?" he could not deny that the redness had increased.
He thought he was going to see stars, but while she was being awfully spiteful, Holo also seemed frustrated and angry, so he made no counterattack.
Evidently, she could not stomach his tossing the washcloth back at her.
This didn't seem to be an act, so she must have actually wanted him to wash her back.
From that perspective, he was the one in the wrong, and so Lawrence felt himself to be in a difficult place.
"So, what's this? The trading company you're about to visit is involved in some foolish scheme?"
They had ventured out along the most obvious street and were headed for the riverside marketplace. A marketplace implied stalls, and Lawrence had been prepared for Holo's begging.
But he had not imagined that she would bolt for the very first stall she sniffed.
He followed her with his eyes, feeling something like a faint headache, and saw that the stall had heated stones atop of which sea snails sizzled and frothed as they were cooked in their shells.
"We're going to figure out whether they are scheming, but according to Eve, there's a good possibility that they are."
Whether or not Holo was actually listening to him, her eyes shone as she wordlessly prodded him.
As she wasn't going to take no for an answer, Lawrence decided to avoid a pointless struggle.
The shopkeeper was busily shaving skewers with a knife, and when Lawrence presented him with a blackened copper coin, he adroitly took a skewer and extracted the snail meat from a shell with it, and in no time at all, he had three snails skewered.
Lawrence ordered three servings of the same.
Just as he was thinking it was rather cheap, it turned out the salt that gave the shellfish their delightful flavor cost extra.
Lawrence grinned and gave some choice words of complaint to the shrewd shopkeeper, then asked where he could find the Jean Company.
He had to get his information fee's worth.
"Even if we go, will they really talk to us?" asked Col after taking one of the skewers and giving his thanks.
Naturally, Lawrence had already cleared up the boy's misunderstanding about Eve.
"That's just as Eve said. It'll depend on my skill."

Output:
"Still, though," continued Holo as she looked at the opposite side of the river, "how different things can be, even in the same city."
The inn in which Lawrence and company were staying was situated at the mouth of the Roam River, on the north side of the port town of Kerube, which was divided into north and south by the river that ran through it.
The marketplace and grander buildings were unsurprisingly concentrated along the river's edges, and while they were moderately lively, this was only in comparison with the inn's neighborhood.
A bit past the wide avenue that ran along the river was the strikingly pebbled riverbank itself. Since this was the river's mouth, the bank was quite broad, with the water some distance away. Looking to the right, there was the sea, and even Lawrence's nose could smell the salt. Across the river was the south side of the town, and before it, constructed on the river's great delta, was the largest marketplace in the great port town of Kerube.
As to the question of which of the town's three sections was the liveliest, it went without saying that it was the delta. And as to where the grandest buildings were, they were in the south.
The north side of the town, where Lawrence and his companions were, seemed rather drab by comparison.
Owing to the haze of distance, it was difficult to make out the number of ships berthed in the southern harbor and the amount of goods piled in the delta marketplace, but it was clear that across the river there was more of everything.
It sometimes happened that different places within a town were possessed of entirely different ambiences. And when that town was divided by a river, it might well seem like two separate towns entirely.
"If we cross over, there should be a Rowen Trade Guild house."
"That was where merchants from your hometown all gather, aye?"
"Yes. However, since the place has a sort of branch office in the delta marketplace, I've never actually been to the central house."
Lawrence pointed to the delta town that lay right where the river met the sea.
While the term town might not have been precisely accurate, to a merchant the place was a city unto itself.
Even from this distance, the overcrowding of the salt wind–grayed two- and three-story buildings there was obvious.
It felt like the clamor of the marketplace might be audible at any moment should the wind pick it up and carry it over the river.
If Holo lowered her hood and listened, she would probably have been able to make out the bustle.
"Seems rather more lively over there. Shall we go and see?"
"I imagine you're only interested in the food," said Lawrence, eliciting a childish scowl from Holo.
It had a purposefulness to it, as though Holo was saying she was wholly confident she would be able to get him to take her later anyway.
Lawrence's shoulders slumped as if admitting he knew she was right, and he started walking but suddenly stopped.
This was because Col had been quiet for some time. He was staring out at the shoal.
"What's wrong?"
Col spun around in response to Lawrence's question. "Ah, er...nothing..."
"Nothing?" queried Holo, plucking Col's skewer away and eating one of the two remaining snails on it. "Lies are a poor reprisal." She made as though to plunge her fangs into the last morsel, her eyes on Col. "Still you have nothing to say?"
Lawrence had heard that many animals treated their young severely; apparently wolves were among their number.
He couldn't help but think it.
However, Holo was just as bad when it came to honestly saying what she wanted.
Lawrence still clearly remembered the town they had arrived at after they first met, where Holo had shown such unsightly lust for the apples there. Lately she had entirely ceased putting on such displays, but her persistent prodding of Col now was probably rooted in her memories of her past self.
"Uh...um..." But Col was not only young, he was also a boy. "I'd like to go to the delta."


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

Input:
"Still, though," continued Holo as she looked at the opposite side of the river, "how different things can be, even in the same city."
The inn in which Lawrence and company were staying was situated at the mouth of the Roam River, on the north side of the port town of Kerube, which was divided into north and south by the river that ran through it.
The marketplace and grander buildings were unsurprisingly concentrated along the river's edges, and while they were moderately lively, this was only in comparison with the inn's neighborhood.
A bit past the wide avenue that ran along the river was the strikingly pebbled riverbank itself. Since this was the river's mouth, the bank was quite broad, with the water some distance away. Looking to the right, there was the sea, and even Lawrence's nose could smell the salt. Across the river was the south side of the town, and before it, constructed on the river's great delta, was the largest marketplace in the great port town of Kerube.
As to the question of which of the town's three sections was the liveliest, it went without saying that it was the delta. And as to where the grandest buildings were, they were in the south.
The north side of the town, where Lawrence and his companions were, seemed rather drab by comparison.
Owing to the haze of distance, it was difficult to make out the number of ships berthed in the southern harbor and the amount of goods piled in the delta marketplace, but it was clear that across the river there was more of everything.
It sometimes happened that different places within a town were possessed of entirely different ambiences. And when that town was divided by a river, it might well seem like two separate towns entirely.
"If we cross over, there should be a Rowen Trade Guild house."
"That was where merchants from your hometown all gather, aye?"
"Yes. However, since the place has a sort of branch office in the delta marketplace, I've never actually been to the central house."
Lawrence pointed to the delta town that lay right where the river met the sea.
While the term town might not have been precisely accurate, to a merchant the place was a city unto itself.
Even from this distance, the overcrowding of the salt wind–grayed two- and three-story buildings there was obvious.
It felt like the clamor of the marketplace might be audible at any moment should the wind pick it up and carry it over the river.
If Holo lowered her hood and listened, she would probably have been able to make out the bustle.
"Seems rather more lively over there. Shall we go and see?"
"I imagine you're only interested in the food," said Lawrence, eliciting a childish scowl from Holo.
It had a purposefulness to it, as though Holo was saying she was wholly confident she would be able to get him to take her later anyway.
Lawrence's shoulders slumped as if admitting he knew she was right, and he started walking but suddenly stopped.
This was because Col had been quiet for some time. He was staring out at the shoal.
"What's wrong?"
Col spun around in response to Lawrence's question. "Ah, er...nothing..."
"Nothing?" queried Holo, plucking Col's skewer away and eating one of the two remaining snails on it. "Lies are a poor reprisal." She made as though to plunge her fangs into the last morsel, her eyes on Col. "Still you have nothing to say?"
Lawrence had heard that many animals treated their young severely; apparently wolves were among their number.
He couldn't help but think it.
However, Holo was just as bad when it came to honestly saying what she wanted.
Lawrence still clearly remembered the town they had arrived at after they first met, where Holo had shown such unsightly lust for the apples there. Lately she had entirely ceased putting on such displays, but her persistent prodding of Col now was probably rooted in her memories of her past self.
"Uh...um..." But Col was not only young, he was also a boy. "I'd like to go to the delta."

Output:
Lawrence took the skewer out of Holo's hand and gave it back to Col. He added, "He's better at this than you," to Holo and got a kick for his trouble. "You're not my apprentice, so I plan to fully repay you for the salve you made for us. Your preparedness was audacious."
Strange words, but the phrase fit Col perfectly.
Maybe it was just his basic honesty or his personality, but left alone, he seemed likely to become more apprentice-like than a real apprentice.
But Lawrence knew the world did not always reward such generosity, and that knowledge made him worry for the boy. If he wanted to take advantage of Col, how easy it would have been.
"...I understand," Col replied with a confused smile.
He probably saw that Lawrence and Holo were worried, hence his answer.
Such things happened all the time in comical tales.
A master would set his faithful, obedient slave free, saying, "Go now, live your life free—you need no longer serve anyone." And the slave would then faithfully keep his master's order, living the rest of his life without ever serving another.
So was the slave who kept his master's last order until the very end truly free?
Col's confused smile may well have come from him imagining himself the same as the slave in the tale.
"However, let me just say this. It will not be right away. Merchants are a hasty lot, and if I don't take care of this business first, I'll be useless."
"I understand. But...," said Col, scratching his head bashfully. "I'll be looking forward to it."
Lawrence let himself imagine what it would be like if Holo were so honest, but he didn't look at her.
He could see her well enough in the corner of his field of view with her unamused smile.
"I've come to this town three times, but the truth is, I've never been to the delta," said Col.
"Because of the ferryman's fee?"
Col nodded.
If he couldn't afford the ferryman's fee to get to the delta, Lawrence wanted to know just how he had managed to cross the Roam River.
Given Col's persistence, he might well have bound his clothes about his head and simply swum across.
"So, I've never been to the south side, but what about you?" Lawrence asked as the three of them walked, once Col had finished eating his shellfish.
"The south side is...The town is very beautiful there."
The hesitation in the boy's statement came as he looked around briefly, then lowered his voice.
It was true, then—even a glance at the riverbanks made the difference between the two halves very clear.
It was probably related to pagans being more numerous on the north side, while the south had more merchants and orthodox church members.
Among merchants, the ones from the southern side were far wealthier, and money tended to gather in places where there was already concentrated wealth.
"But there is more almsgiving on this side," said Col.
"Is that so? I'd heard that the north side had more people from the north country, but still."
"I believe so. There are many people here who were born in Roef. But even if that weren't so, I have the feeling that people on this side are simply kinder."
Lawrence scratched the tip of his nose and thought about how to reply.
The conflict between north and south was as delicate a subject as the conflict between wolves and humans.
"That's because the harsher the climate, the kinder the people who live there," Lawrence answered, at which Col smiled widely.
Though Col was broad-minded enough to travel alone into the south to study Church law, he still took innocent pleasure in hearing northern people favorably compared to southerners.
Lawrence was struck anew by the fact and felt as if he could understand why the biggest center of commerce in the city was situated on the river delta.
It was a buffer zone between the north and the south.
Alternatively, it might serve as neutral territory.
"But—" Col spoke up as Lawrence continued walking and looking out at the delta. "The people in the south always seem very happy," he said considerately.


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

Input:
Lawrence took the skewer out of Holo's hand and gave it back to Col. He added, "He's better at this than you," to Holo and got a kick for his trouble. "You're not my apprentice, so I plan to fully repay you for the salve you made for us. Your preparedness was audacious."
Strange words, but the phrase fit Col perfectly.
Maybe it was just his basic honesty or his personality, but left alone, he seemed likely to become more apprentice-like than a real apprentice.
But Lawrence knew the world did not always reward such generosity, and that knowledge made him worry for the boy. If he wanted to take advantage of Col, how easy it would have been.
"...I understand," Col replied with a confused smile.
He probably saw that Lawrence and Holo were worried, hence his answer.
Such things happened all the time in comical tales.
A master would set his faithful, obedient slave free, saying, "Go now, live your life free—you need no longer serve anyone." And the slave would then faithfully keep his master's order, living the rest of his life without ever serving another.
So was the slave who kept his master's last order until the very end truly free?
Col's confused smile may well have come from him imagining himself the same as the slave in the tale.
"However, let me just say this. It will not be right away. Merchants are a hasty lot, and if I don't take care of this business first, I'll be useless."
"I understand. But...," said Col, scratching his head bashfully. "I'll be looking forward to it."
Lawrence let himself imagine what it would be like if Holo were so honest, but he didn't look at her.
He could see her well enough in the corner of his field of view with her unamused smile.
"I've come to this town three times, but the truth is, I've never been to the delta," said Col.
"Because of the ferryman's fee?"
Col nodded.
If he couldn't afford the ferryman's fee to get to the delta, Lawrence wanted to know just how he had managed to cross the Roam River.
Given Col's persistence, he might well have bound his clothes about his head and simply swum across.
"So, I've never been to the south side, but what about you?" Lawrence asked as the three of them walked, once Col had finished eating his shellfish.
"The south side is...The town is very beautiful there."
The hesitation in the boy's statement came as he looked around briefly, then lowered his voice.
It was true, then—even a glance at the riverbanks made the difference between the two halves very clear.
It was probably related to pagans being more numerous on the north side, while the south had more merchants and orthodox church members.
Among merchants, the ones from the southern side were far wealthier, and money tended to gather in places where there was already concentrated wealth.
"But there is more almsgiving on this side," said Col.
"Is that so? I'd heard that the north side had more people from the north country, but still."
"I believe so. There are many people here who were born in Roef. But even if that weren't so, I have the feeling that people on this side are simply kinder."
Lawrence scratched the tip of his nose and thought about how to reply.
The conflict between north and south was as delicate a subject as the conflict between wolves and humans.
"That's because the harsher the climate, the kinder the people who live there," Lawrence answered, at which Col smiled widely.
Though Col was broad-minded enough to travel alone into the south to study Church law, he still took innocent pleasure in hearing northern people favorably compared to southerners.
Lawrence was struck anew by the fact and felt as if he could understand why the biggest center of commerce in the city was situated on the river delta.
It was a buffer zone between the north and the south.
Alternatively, it might serve as neutral territory.
"But—" Col spoke up as Lawrence continued walking and looking out at the delta. "The people in the south always seem very happy," he said considerately.

Output:
"Oh, I see."
There was no mistaking that given a few years, Col would turn into a pleasant young man.
Lawrence could think of nothing that would refute the obvious prediction.
Neither, he was sure, could Holo.
As they walked, she smiled happily and held Col's hand, which may well have been an investment on her part.
The itchy notion was both amusing and a source of jealousy, and just as it occurred to Lawrence, Holo shot him a sidelong glance from beneath her hood.
"If you dally too long, I may just switch over," her malicious smile said.
Lawrence stroked his beard and sighed.
The sigh came instead of the words he'd very nearly spoken, only to stop short in his throat.
And here I hadn't planned on giving more bait to a fish I'd already hooked.
He had wanted to give Holo that retort but thought better of it.
Had he indulged in this game, there was a real danger he would actually lose to Col.
Wondering what she could possibly do with such a young lad, Lawrence took a deep breath of the cold air and laughed silently to himself.
***
Out of the Roef Mountains flows the Roef River into the Roam River, which in turn empties into the Winfiel Strait.
At the highest headwaters of the Roef River is the mining town of Lesko. Where the Roef and Roam Rivers meet is Lenos, and where it meets the sea lies the port town of Kerube.
And when it came to the copper goods that arrived from upriver at the end of the long journey in Kerube, there were certainly enough trading companies to handle the trade.
As a result, Lawrence had a certain preconception, along with a fair bit of anticipation.
So when he arrived at the Jean Company, he couldn't help but feel a little deflated.
"Is this the place?" asked Holo, her expression belying her swallowed disappointment.
She looked like she wanted to point out that she could blow the place over with a breath, probably because she might well have been imagining turning back into a wolf and smashing it to bits.
A rectangular iron plate, which was stamped "Jean Company," dangled from the eaves, and the street-facing side of the building was functioning as a loading dock. It was there where what goods were present were loaded.
As for what the goods were loaded on or tied to, it was no shaggy-haired winter-working horse that would unflinchingly plunge through the deepest snowdrifts, nor was it a big wagon of the sort that could carry all the household goods of a small village.
There under the eaves stood a scrawny mule upon which were loaded bundles of oat, probably meant as winterfeed. It yawned aimlessly, waiting for departure.
Col, who surely heard the words trading company and imagined a center of money and power, stood before the shabby shop spoiling for a fight.
"Who goes there, eh?" a portly man well past middle age inquired. He was sitting at a receiving desk at the back of the loading dock and looked up at Lawrence's party when he noticed them standing under the edge of the eaves. There seemed to be no one else in the trading house, save for a chicken that was using the floor as a pasture and pecking at the odd fallen leaf. "If you've come to buy, I welcome you and gladly. But if you've come to sell something, well...you may have wasted the trip."
The man did not stand, and the way his sagging cheeks drew up into a self-deprecating smile seemed, above all, tired.
At this display, Holo shot Lawrence an extremely displeased look.
The Jean Company was among those trying to buy and sell, for some unfathomable purpose, the bones of a wolf that had likely been one of her friends.
They were deserving of all her spite, and given the depth of her contempt, they should at least be a big enough company to be worthy of it—so said her glance.
Col alone seemed to mistake the old man's tired mien for dignity.
However, it was not always the case that a company's size and the quality of the people it employed were proportionate.
Sometimes reaching into a snake hole summoned a dragon.


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

Input:
"Oh, I see."
There was no mistaking that given a few years, Col would turn into a pleasant young man.
Lawrence could think of nothing that would refute the obvious prediction.
Neither, he was sure, could Holo.
As they walked, she smiled happily and held Col's hand, which may well have been an investment on her part.
The itchy notion was both amusing and a source of jealousy, and just as it occurred to Lawrence, Holo shot him a sidelong glance from beneath her hood.
"If you dally too long, I may just switch over," her malicious smile said.
Lawrence stroked his beard and sighed.
The sigh came instead of the words he'd very nearly spoken, only to stop short in his throat.
And here I hadn't planned on giving more bait to a fish I'd already hooked.
He had wanted to give Holo that retort but thought better of it.
Had he indulged in this game, there was a real danger he would actually lose to Col.
Wondering what she could possibly do with such a young lad, Lawrence took a deep breath of the cold air and laughed silently to himself.
***
Out of the Roef Mountains flows the Roef River into the Roam River, which in turn empties into the Winfiel Strait.
At the highest headwaters of the Roef River is the mining town of Lesko. Where the Roef and Roam Rivers meet is Lenos, and where it meets the sea lies the port town of Kerube.
And when it came to the copper goods that arrived from upriver at the end of the long journey in Kerube, there were certainly enough trading companies to handle the trade.
As a result, Lawrence had a certain preconception, along with a fair bit of anticipation.
So when he arrived at the Jean Company, he couldn't help but feel a little deflated.
"Is this the place?" asked Holo, her expression belying her swallowed disappointment.
She looked like she wanted to point out that she could blow the place over with a breath, probably because she might well have been imagining turning back into a wolf and smashing it to bits.
A rectangular iron plate, which was stamped "Jean Company," dangled from the eaves, and the street-facing side of the building was functioning as a loading dock. It was there where what goods were present were loaded.
As for what the goods were loaded on or tied to, it was no shaggy-haired winter-working horse that would unflinchingly plunge through the deepest snowdrifts, nor was it a big wagon of the sort that could carry all the household goods of a small village.
There under the eaves stood a scrawny mule upon which were loaded bundles of oat, probably meant as winterfeed. It yawned aimlessly, waiting for departure.
Col, who surely heard the words trading company and imagined a center of money and power, stood before the shabby shop spoiling for a fight.
"Who goes there, eh?" a portly man well past middle age inquired. He was sitting at a receiving desk at the back of the loading dock and looked up at Lawrence's party when he noticed them standing under the edge of the eaves. There seemed to be no one else in the trading house, save for a chicken that was using the floor as a pasture and pecking at the odd fallen leaf. "If you've come to buy, I welcome you and gladly. But if you've come to sell something, well...you may have wasted the trip."
The man did not stand, and the way his sagging cheeks drew up into a self-deprecating smile seemed, above all, tired.
At this display, Holo shot Lawrence an extremely displeased look.
The Jean Company was among those trying to buy and sell, for some unfathomable purpose, the bones of a wolf that had likely been one of her friends.
They were deserving of all her spite, and given the depth of her contempt, they should at least be a big enough company to be worthy of it—so said her glance.
Col alone seemed to mistake the old man's tired mien for dignity.
However, it was not always the case that a company's size and the quality of the people it employed were proportionate.
Sometimes reaching into a snake hole summoned a dragon.

Output:
Pieces of straw were scattered about on the dock's floor, probably a remnant of the large amount of wheat that had passed through it. The scene called to mind the eaves of a farmhouse somewhere. There were goods of various kinds here and there, as one would expect of a trading house, but to a one they seemed dingy and poor.
"Hunh. I make you as a merchant from the south. Is business good down south, then?"
In the corner, there was a folded-up set of armor.
It seemed to have been there for some time, probably as back stock, and Lawrence found in it a bit of comfort as one who had once failed badly in armor dealings.
"It's good and bad."
"Here it's terrible. The worst," admitted the old man, raising his hands in a defeated gesture.
Holo and Col followed Lawrence onto the loading dock, and they glanced about curiously.
When Holo suddenly lifted up some of the accumulated straw on the floor, two chicken eggs rolled out.
"Ah, so there were eggs in there, eh? The hens lay them all over, and I never find them all. I'll have to gather them later...and yes, there's been a huge drop in the chicken population this year. It's damned quiet. Used to be this time of year the roosters and hens were lively as anything."
"Because of the cancellation of the northern campaign?"
"Right. With no people, there's no money, and when people don't move, their bellies don't empty. The price of farmed goods is dropping, along with things like barrels and buckets, and the armor that used to fly off the shelf goes nowhere, and to top it off, the price of wine just goes up and up."
"Huh?" muttered Holo, sounding perplexed.
Behind the desk, the pudgy old man shrugged clumsily. "When there's nothing to be done, what's left to do but drink?"
Holo seemed entirely satisfied with the explanation.
"So, what news of profit does this merchant bring with two lumps in tow?"
"Lumps?" grumbled Holo, irritated. She probably would not be able to pass as a nun the way she usually did. Thinking that he would need to talk it over thoroughly with her later, Lawrence set the jab aside with grim resolution.
"I'd like to speak to the master of the Jean Company."
"Well, that'd be me."
Lawrence had guessed as much and nodded, unsurprised, stepping forward and placing the letter he had gotten from Eve on the desk.
"Oh, my apologies. So you're acquainted with the Bolan Company, eh?"
"The Bolan Company?" Lawrence had been unaware that Eve had set up her own company and was a bit taken aback.
He had never met anyone for whom the term lone wolf fit as well as it did her.
However, when he said so, the master of the Jean Company did not as much as make a strange face.
Instead, he looked as though he thought Lawrence was making an offhand joke. "She may do business all alone without so much as hanging up a sign, but anyone who casts as wide a net as she does is a serious trading company, don't you think?" posed the master, looking for agreement as he opened Eve's letter.
Lawrence had no way of guessing just how influential Eve was, but there was not a single good reason to let this man know how recently he had come to know her.
Lawrence nodded and smiled vaguely, at which the man drew his own conclusions and smiled back.
"Mm, Kraft Lawrence, is it? Ho-ho. Never thought a man would come in here with a letter from that wolf of a woman. How'd you get her over the fire, I'd like to know."
A moment ago the man seemed like the feckless master of a drab little company, but with his left eyebrow raised as he stared piercingly up at Lawrence, he seemed much more formidable.
However, he surely was not trying to intimidate Lawrence or inflate his own impression. He was simply very interested, and this was probably no more than the face he showed to any other tough merchant.
Lawrence revised his opinion of his opponent and relaxed, letting the enjoyment of meeting another interesting merchant show on his face.
"That's a secret."


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

Input:
Pieces of straw were scattered about on the dock's floor, probably a remnant of the large amount of wheat that had passed through it. The scene called to mind the eaves of a farmhouse somewhere. There were goods of various kinds here and there, as one would expect of a trading house, but to a one they seemed dingy and poor.
"Hunh. I make you as a merchant from the south. Is business good down south, then?"
In the corner, there was a folded-up set of armor.
It seemed to have been there for some time, probably as back stock, and Lawrence found in it a bit of comfort as one who had once failed badly in armor dealings.
"It's good and bad."
"Here it's terrible. The worst," admitted the old man, raising his hands in a defeated gesture.
Holo and Col followed Lawrence onto the loading dock, and they glanced about curiously.
When Holo suddenly lifted up some of the accumulated straw on the floor, two chicken eggs rolled out.
"Ah, so there were eggs in there, eh? The hens lay them all over, and I never find them all. I'll have to gather them later...and yes, there's been a huge drop in the chicken population this year. It's damned quiet. Used to be this time of year the roosters and hens were lively as anything."
"Because of the cancellation of the northern campaign?"
"Right. With no people, there's no money, and when people don't move, their bellies don't empty. The price of farmed goods is dropping, along with things like barrels and buckets, and the armor that used to fly off the shelf goes nowhere, and to top it off, the price of wine just goes up and up."
"Huh?" muttered Holo, sounding perplexed.
Behind the desk, the pudgy old man shrugged clumsily. "When there's nothing to be done, what's left to do but drink?"
Holo seemed entirely satisfied with the explanation.
"So, what news of profit does this merchant bring with two lumps in tow?"
"Lumps?" grumbled Holo, irritated. She probably would not be able to pass as a nun the way she usually did. Thinking that he would need to talk it over thoroughly with her later, Lawrence set the jab aside with grim resolution.
"I'd like to speak to the master of the Jean Company."
"Well, that'd be me."
Lawrence had guessed as much and nodded, unsurprised, stepping forward and placing the letter he had gotten from Eve on the desk.
"Oh, my apologies. So you're acquainted with the Bolan Company, eh?"
"The Bolan Company?" Lawrence had been unaware that Eve had set up her own company and was a bit taken aback.
He had never met anyone for whom the term lone wolf fit as well as it did her.
However, when he said so, the master of the Jean Company did not as much as make a strange face.
Instead, he looked as though he thought Lawrence was making an offhand joke. "She may do business all alone without so much as hanging up a sign, but anyone who casts as wide a net as she does is a serious trading company, don't you think?" posed the master, looking for agreement as he opened Eve's letter.
Lawrence had no way of guessing just how influential Eve was, but there was not a single good reason to let this man know how recently he had come to know her.
Lawrence nodded and smiled vaguely, at which the man drew his own conclusions and smiled back.
"Mm, Kraft Lawrence, is it? Ho-ho. Never thought a man would come in here with a letter from that wolf of a woman. How'd you get her over the fire, I'd like to know."
A moment ago the man seemed like the feckless master of a drab little company, but with his left eyebrow raised as he stared piercingly up at Lawrence, he seemed much more formidable.
However, he surely was not trying to intimidate Lawrence or inflate his own impression. He was simply very interested, and this was probably no more than the face he showed to any other tough merchant.
Lawrence revised his opinion of his opponent and relaxed, letting the enjoyment of meeting another interesting merchant show on his face.
"That's a secret."

Output:
Lawrence did not fail to notice the master's cheek twitch immediately thereafter.
Given that it dealt with the story of the bone of a wolf that had been revered as a god, a normal merchant would have given a hearty laugh and poured some wine.
But the Jean Company master's shoulders only shook with a chuckle of remembrance as he rerolled the letter and tied it closed. "I see. It's been some time since anyone's been interested in this story. And if you went to the trouble of getting Eve Bolan to send you, well...I guess you're in earnest."
"Embarrassing though it is, yes," answered Lawrence with a smile. The man returned the smile, which seemed to be made of two different expressions mixed together.
The first was surprise that there was a merchant who would hear this story and take it so seriously. The other was befuddlement at being begged for details, after all this time, when long ago he had tried to get others to listen, but none would.
But the smile soon disappeared from the man's face.
"Still, you must be quite a man to go to the trouble of getting a letter from that wolf just to come hear a silly tale like this."
"It's not as though we want a seat on the council. We want to know what can be done, not how we might seem."
"You've come to my company, Kraft Lawrence, and that was the right answer. I ought to introduce myself properly. I'm the master of the Jean Company, Ted Reynolds."
That was the name written on the Jean Company account ledgers that had so worried Lawrence and company on the way down the Roam River.
From the name, Lawrence had imagined a younger man, but in reality, he was easily twice the age Lawrence had envisioned.
"Jean was my father's wife, you see. He was a devoted husband."
"My goodness."
"Though the name made his trade partners shiver in fear, so maybe he was more henpecked than devoted," said the man, holding up a single finger and closing one eye, pretending nobility and smiling.
While the joke felt out of place, it did give the man a strange charm.
Lawrence realized he could not let his guard down.
"But you've come to ask me something even stranger."
"Indeed. People do many strange things in this world," said Lawrence.
"That's the truth. Hunh—ah." Reynolds lifted himself reluctantly out of his chair. "Wait just a moment," he said before disappearing behind the desk farther into the building.
The chickens remained, pecking at the fuzzy edges of Col's sandals.
Col frantically tried to shoo them off, but the chickens were merciless.
Amused, Holo watched the exchange between Col and the chickens for a while but eventually bared her teeth at the chickens.
The flightless birds immediately chose flight over fight.
"Sorry to keep you waiting—oh, my." In no more time than it took the shed feathers of the scattered chickens to fall to the floor, Reynolds returned carrying a wooden box.
It did not take a sharp-eyed merchant to guess what had happened.
"My apologies. My chickens just can't resist anything fuzzy."
"It's the cold season, after all. We'll have to hide our fingers," Lawrence answered, at which Reynolds laughed heartily.
"Wah-hah-hah! I don't even want to imagine it! If they start pecking at my hangnails, I'll throw them all into the pot, along with the chicks hatching tomorrow!"
Col smiled even as he casually rubbed his fingers, and Lawrence openly directed his gaze to the box Reynolds had set on the desk.
"What's that?"
"Ah, this, you see—" said Reynolds, opening the box's lid without hesitation. Lawrence couldn't help bracing himself.
The box was packed tight with animal bones.
"This is the crystallized effort of all the people who so helpfully cooperated with the rumor that we were searching for the incredibly valuable remains of a lonely mountain village's god."
The roundabout, grandiose statement perfectly conveyed a sense of exhaustion with the subject, but just how serious the man was, Lawrence did not know.
Of course, if he was lying, Holo would tell him later.
"Are they real?"


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

Input:
Lawrence did not fail to notice the master's cheek twitch immediately thereafter.
Given that it dealt with the story of the bone of a wolf that had been revered as a god, a normal merchant would have given a hearty laugh and poured some wine.
But the Jean Company master's shoulders only shook with a chuckle of remembrance as he rerolled the letter and tied it closed. "I see. It's been some time since anyone's been interested in this story. And if you went to the trouble of getting Eve Bolan to send you, well...I guess you're in earnest."
"Embarrassing though it is, yes," answered Lawrence with a smile. The man returned the smile, which seemed to be made of two different expressions mixed together.
The first was surprise that there was a merchant who would hear this story and take it so seriously. The other was befuddlement at being begged for details, after all this time, when long ago he had tried to get others to listen, but none would.
But the smile soon disappeared from the man's face.
"Still, you must be quite a man to go to the trouble of getting a letter from that wolf just to come hear a silly tale like this."
"It's not as though we want a seat on the council. We want to know what can be done, not how we might seem."
"You've come to my company, Kraft Lawrence, and that was the right answer. I ought to introduce myself properly. I'm the master of the Jean Company, Ted Reynolds."
That was the name written on the Jean Company account ledgers that had so worried Lawrence and company on the way down the Roam River.
From the name, Lawrence had imagined a younger man, but in reality, he was easily twice the age Lawrence had envisioned.
"Jean was my father's wife, you see. He was a devoted husband."
"My goodness."
"Though the name made his trade partners shiver in fear, so maybe he was more henpecked than devoted," said the man, holding up a single finger and closing one eye, pretending nobility and smiling.
While the joke felt out of place, it did give the man a strange charm.
Lawrence realized he could not let his guard down.
"But you've come to ask me something even stranger."
"Indeed. People do many strange things in this world," said Lawrence.
"That's the truth. Hunh—ah." Reynolds lifted himself reluctantly out of his chair. "Wait just a moment," he said before disappearing behind the desk farther into the building.
The chickens remained, pecking at the fuzzy edges of Col's sandals.
Col frantically tried to shoo them off, but the chickens were merciless.
Amused, Holo watched the exchange between Col and the chickens for a while but eventually bared her teeth at the chickens.
The flightless birds immediately chose flight over fight.
"Sorry to keep you waiting—oh, my." In no more time than it took the shed feathers of the scattered chickens to fall to the floor, Reynolds returned carrying a wooden box.
It did not take a sharp-eyed merchant to guess what had happened.
"My apologies. My chickens just can't resist anything fuzzy."
"It's the cold season, after all. We'll have to hide our fingers," Lawrence answered, at which Reynolds laughed heartily.
"Wah-hah-hah! I don't even want to imagine it! If they start pecking at my hangnails, I'll throw them all into the pot, along with the chicks hatching tomorrow!"
Col smiled even as he casually rubbed his fingers, and Lawrence openly directed his gaze to the box Reynolds had set on the desk.
"What's that?"
"Ah, this, you see—" said Reynolds, opening the box's lid without hesitation. Lawrence couldn't help bracing himself.
The box was packed tight with animal bones.
"This is the crystallized effort of all the people who so helpfully cooperated with the rumor that we were searching for the incredibly valuable remains of a lonely mountain village's god."
The roundabout, grandiose statement perfectly conveyed a sense of exhaustion with the subject, but just how serious the man was, Lawrence did not know.
Of course, if he was lying, Holo would tell him later.
"Are they real?"

Output:
That he was nearly ruined was clearly a lie. At the very least, the shop was acting as a relay for goods coming down the Roam River, so it had to be making more profit than it appeared to be.
Still, Lawrence doubted the appearance of neglect was itself a lie.
The man's eyes shone with childlike inquisitiveness. "Why would you care about this folly now?"
"Eve asked me the same question. These two were born in the north, you see."
"Mm...," intoned Reynolds, his eyes opening slightly wider. He had the face of a man who had been terribly mistaken. "I see, so...ah...I was a bit rash. Please don't think poorly of me. I didn't mean my bitterness over this foolish tale as an insult to your deity," said Reynolds, rubbing his nose and spreading his palms as though confessing his sins to God in a church.
The fact that he had understood so much upon realizing that the two were born in the north proved how close the region was to the Roef Mountains.
And Lawrence could tell Reynolds respected the people from the north.
"In that case, I'm quite willing to cooperate with you. The truth is, this tale is an absurd one indeed." Reynolds was able to change the conversation's mood in a flash.
The moment he spoke, the neglected surroundings of the dingy trade house faded away, and it felt as though they were in the grand hall of the town council.
"Up in the mountains of Roef, there remain many legends the Church cannot overlook. Some of them are nearly impossible to believe, but others are difficult to doubt. I don't know what region you're from, but it was said that the remains of a wolf-god lay in a certain village, and I lived in a place that seemed likely."
"Was it the village of Rupi?" Col interrupted.
His face was so serious that it was hard to imagine he had been on the verge of tears a moment ago because of chickens pecking at his sandals.
"Yes. If you know that name and you're chasing this tale, you're either very lucky to still be alive, or you've seen the unfairness of the world with your own eyes."
Col had told them how Rupi had been taken by missionaries with swords and many people had been killed.
At Reynold's words, Col nodded, his fists clenched.
"And you there next to him, miss...Merchants can't take riches to the grave, but they can take their memories, so I don't want to ask why you say you hail from the north but are dressed as a nun of the Church," said Reynolds, letting a cynical smile twitch across one half of his face.
Holo, too, smiled slightly—she understood that the wish to experience only pure, beautiful things until heading to the grave was itself a folly to be laughed at.
"So, then, about the god of Rupi. I suppose it was the year before last, around the end of summer. Back then the missionaries and mercenaries were gallivanting all over the northern mountains and plains. Stories of this or that befalling this or that village were not uncommon. Among them, though, was a tale seized on by a trading company I was close with. Or perhaps I should say, they couldn't help but seize on it."
"The Debau Company, yes?"
If Lawrence let the man think they had come to him knowing nothing, he might well lie either to make a better tale or just to deceive them.
So to prevent that, Lawrence showed that they were not entirely ignorant.
Reynolds noticed the move and smiled. "Heh. This merchant bearing a letter from the wolf woman of the house of Bolan tells no lies. I respect her, and if she has put her trust in you, then I respect you, Kraft Lawrence, as well." His smile was a serious one, and he seemed to be angry.
But Lawrence did not feel he had misspoken.
This was practically a ritual, a way to determine the rules of play between two merchants.
"I apologize for interrupting your tale."
"Not at all. If I am the only one talking, I'll never notice how long-winded I'm being. Since you're not entirely ignorant of the situation, I should give you the important details."
Reynolds coughed and straightened himself in his chair.


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

Input:
That he was nearly ruined was clearly a lie. At the very least, the shop was acting as a relay for goods coming down the Roam River, so it had to be making more profit than it appeared to be.
Still, Lawrence doubted the appearance of neglect was itself a lie.
The man's eyes shone with childlike inquisitiveness. "Why would you care about this folly now?"
"Eve asked me the same question. These two were born in the north, you see."
"Mm...," intoned Reynolds, his eyes opening slightly wider. He had the face of a man who had been terribly mistaken. "I see, so...ah...I was a bit rash. Please don't think poorly of me. I didn't mean my bitterness over this foolish tale as an insult to your deity," said Reynolds, rubbing his nose and spreading his palms as though confessing his sins to God in a church.
The fact that he had understood so much upon realizing that the two were born in the north proved how close the region was to the Roef Mountains.
And Lawrence could tell Reynolds respected the people from the north.
"In that case, I'm quite willing to cooperate with you. The truth is, this tale is an absurd one indeed." Reynolds was able to change the conversation's mood in a flash.
The moment he spoke, the neglected surroundings of the dingy trade house faded away, and it felt as though they were in the grand hall of the town council.
"Up in the mountains of Roef, there remain many legends the Church cannot overlook. Some of them are nearly impossible to believe, but others are difficult to doubt. I don't know what region you're from, but it was said that the remains of a wolf-god lay in a certain village, and I lived in a place that seemed likely."
"Was it the village of Rupi?" Col interrupted.
His face was so serious that it was hard to imagine he had been on the verge of tears a moment ago because of chickens pecking at his sandals.
"Yes. If you know that name and you're chasing this tale, you're either very lucky to still be alive, or you've seen the unfairness of the world with your own eyes."
Col had told them how Rupi had been taken by missionaries with swords and many people had been killed.
At Reynold's words, Col nodded, his fists clenched.
"And you there next to him, miss...Merchants can't take riches to the grave, but they can take their memories, so I don't want to ask why you say you hail from the north but are dressed as a nun of the Church," said Reynolds, letting a cynical smile twitch across one half of his face.
Holo, too, smiled slightly—she understood that the wish to experience only pure, beautiful things until heading to the grave was itself a folly to be laughed at.
"So, then, about the god of Rupi. I suppose it was the year before last, around the end of summer. Back then the missionaries and mercenaries were gallivanting all over the northern mountains and plains. Stories of this or that befalling this or that village were not uncommon. Among them, though, was a tale seized on by a trading company I was close with. Or perhaps I should say, they couldn't help but seize on it."
"The Debau Company, yes?"
If Lawrence let the man think they had come to him knowing nothing, he might well lie either to make a better tale or just to deceive them.
So to prevent that, Lawrence showed that they were not entirely ignorant.
Reynolds noticed the move and smiled. "Heh. This merchant bearing a letter from the wolf woman of the house of Bolan tells no lies. I respect her, and if she has put her trust in you, then I respect you, Kraft Lawrence, as well." His smile was a serious one, and he seemed to be angry.
But Lawrence did not feel he had misspoken.
This was practically a ritual, a way to determine the rules of play between two merchants.
"I apologize for interrupting your tale."
"Not at all. If I am the only one talking, I'll never notice how long-winded I'm being. Since you're not entirely ignorant of the situation, I should give you the important details."
Reynolds coughed and straightened himself in his chair.

Output:
"There was a certain faction of the Church that for various reasons the Debau Company could not easily defy, and this faction brought them an offer. 'Among the pagan stories we've gone into the mountains to investigate,' they said, 'there are some that are unlike the more absurd tales. They have shape and truth. And if that's so, then you merchants who deal in everything on this earth, you should be able to go and find the shape and truth of this.'"
That he'd ventured to say it that way might well have been meant to imply that he was no friend of the Church himself.
"Just as we find alchemy mysterious and thus assume that alchemists can work miracles, it seems the men of the Church find our trading mysterious and wanting in virtue—and thus mistakenly think we can accomplish anything. But often in business there are requests we can't refuse. And those always flow from high to low."
"You're right about that," said Lawrence, at which Reynolds nodded, satisfied.
From the emperor to the palace merchant, from the palace merchant to the trade company he controlled, from the company to the branch, and from the branch manager to the commoner merchants at the bottom.
It was not rare for even goods respectfully presented to the emperor to have their origins with merchants who scraped and fought for every last copper coin.
Orders came from the top down, and goods flowed from the bottom up, and never the opposite.
"And our company is situated here at the bottom of the Roam River, which is ruled over by the great river spirit Roam. We must meet whatever comes down the river, whatever happens. Truly—"
Reynolds's sagging cheeks jiggled as though they'd sagged all along just waiting for this day, this moment.
"—We must, no matter the cost."
Lawrence nodded, looking down at the box that was so packed with bones on the desk.
Normally, even when a trading company somewhere was searching for goods, they would not be sent so very many.
But be they the bones of dog, cat, sheep, cow, or swine, the fact that this company had collected so many was because everybody in this town knew that the Jean Company was not conducting sensible business.
For it to be sensible business, someone would have had to be paying a fair price for sensible goods.
But if it was not sensible business, it was possible that money would be paid for even nonsensical goods.
And there existed the strong possibility that the Jean Company, and the Debau Company above them, might pay money for worthless bones if they thought the clergy who had given the original order would be satisfied.
And there were bones all over the place.
Making a small bet on that possibility was not a bad bet at all.
The most inconvenienced party was the Jean Company, who wound up playing bookmaker to those bets.
"And so it turned into quite a commotion, because some were saying that if the real bones were found, they would be paid a thousand, two thousand lumione for them."
"So—" It was Col who spoke up as Reynolds paused and smiled self-deprecatingly. "—So, did you find the bones?"
Reynolds's eyes, like pure glass beads beneath his drooping lids, showed no emotion but shifted for just a moment.
The question was a naive one and a breach of merchant conversation etiquette.
But those glassy eyes soon shifted back to ones befitting an easygoing shopkeeper, content to sit behind his desk and wait for customers as he watched his chickens peck at the floor.
A merchant had no call to turn angry at a naive question. Rather than show anger, he would treat the question appropriately.
Which meant that the merchant talk was now over.
"Heh. If I had, I'd be sitting at a golden desk right about now. Of course, at the time, rumors that I'd already found the bones and made a huge profit were flying around left and right, and I was attacked who knows how many times. But a little thought made it obvious. Just who had ever paid that much gold coin for something without attracting the attention of others?"