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

Input:
As any merchant would, Lawrence was making the most effective, profitable plan he could. It seemed sincerely loving someone made one's thinking faster, but turned it in the most ridiculous directions.
It had been an interesting experience, but it might be well to have this be the last, Lawrence mused, and it was as he smiled a self-reproaching smile and heaved a heavy sigh that the party returned.
"Come, we've brought gifts!" came the loud, cheerful words as the door opened with a slam.
Those within the shop had become used to the quiet, so the shock was all the more jarring.
In the brief moment of time it took to look up and wonder what the matter was, Col followed Holo in and set a shallow bucket filled with water on the floor. His breathing was ragged, and he sat down on the floor right there on the spot, exhausted.
The bucket had obviously been heavy for Col's small frame, and, ignoring Lawrence's sympathy for the lad, Holo stood there, her chest thrown out proudly.
"Look, we've found today's lunch!" said Holo, whose cheeks were also red and shiny with sweat.
Lawrence approached, wondering what it could be, when his nose was assaulted by a pungent smell. Its source was soon very clear.
Within Col's bucket swam a number of dark eels.
"Magnificent, aren't they? We were wandering around the docks when we came upon some fool who'd tipped over a great barrel. Inside were all these eels, and they were scattered around like windblown soot!"
The exhausted Col was unable to get to his feet, so Elsa, worried, crouched down beside him to check on him. Meanwhile, Holo smiled triumphantly.
She smelled bad, and her sleeves were damp.
"Don't tell me you stole these."
"Fool! We were asked to help catch them, and this is our reward! I was the best at catching them. Wasn't I?"
Prodded by Holo's question, Col smiled a weak smile.
Philon came over as well and peered inside the bucket. They were fine eels, big and fat.
"Well...still, you ought to change your clothes," said Lawrence.
"Mm? Oh, aye. I am a bit damp. Well, I'll leave the preparation to you. Come, Col!" Holo chattered away, and Col, having finally caught his breath, managed to stand. Given his exhausted state, anyone watching would have wanted to stop him.
But the one who actually did was neither Elsa nor Lawrence.
"Ha-ha-ha-ha!" He laughed a boisterous, infectious laugh, head back and hands on his hips. No actor in a town square could manage such a performance as Philon did naturally in that moment. "Goodness, but you're amusing guests indeed! Don't worry, we'll make ready some hot water and handle the preparation."
"R-really?"
"If you walk around outside like that you'll catch cold. I'll have the lads heat a bath. As far as a change of clothes goes, hmm...," said Philon, thinking, at which point Lawrence got some words in.
"I can get a change of clothes from the inn."
"Hm? Oh well, let's do that, then. In the meantime, we'll deal with these eels. They'll make for an unexpectedly grand lunch!"
Lawrence wondered for a moment if in taking a bath here at the shop, Holo would let her ears or tail be seen, but doubted that Holo would let such a thing happen.
Elsa had helped Col to his feet, but Holo grabbed his hand and pulled him after her as she followed Philon farther into the shop. Lawrence watched her go and sighed helplessly.
He felt foolish for worrying so much about so many things. Holo had burned his gloom away with a brightness that no gold coin could match.
Lawrence scratched his head and looked down into the bucket of eels, a small smile on his face.
"Well, then, I'm off to the inn," he said to Elsa, who was watching Col's bucket with concern. What stopped him just short of leaving the building was not a reply from her, but rather a statement.
"I'm coming, too!" she said, just as an eel splashed noisily in the water. She flinched away from it as though avoiding a dangerous animal and came alongside Lawrence, keeping a wide berth from the bucket.

Output:
"I have some spare clothes I can lend you," she said.
Oh? thought Lawrence to himself. He was no Holo, but he had a certain ability to see through people's lies.
But there was no reason to point it out, so he simply nodded, and the two left the shop.
Just as in any other town, the streets of Lenos had names. Every lane, big or small, had wooden signs erected, indicating that it was such-and-such street. Even the small alleys were well paved with cobblestones and had lovely wooden signs.
Lawrence was admiring one as they passed when Elsa suddenly spoke up.
"I have been thinking," she said, almost as though talking to herself. But after a pause, she continued. "Can I be of any use to you?"
"Huh?" Lawrence thought he had misheard, but this time Elsa looked right at him and spoke very clearly.
"Can I be of any use to you? To all of you?" Her honey-colored eyes were as serious as ever. "Especially you—I know you don't want to go to Kieschen. Am I wrong?"
Lawrence looked back into those big eyes, smiled a thin smile, and replied. "That's a surprising offer."
He anticipated her anger, but Elsa's way of being angry was not what he expected. "It is not at all surprising."
She looked steadily back at him.
The street was crowded, and if she kept walking along while looking aside at him, she would have easily been run over by a wagon. Before replying, Lawrence pulled her out of the way as a cart rumbled by, taking no notice of the pedestrian traffic as it went.
"It is surprising," said Lawrence. Pulled close like this, Holo would have pretended bashfulness or looked up at him winsomely, but Elsa did neither. Of course she would not, Lawrence admitted to himself, but he wondered if Evan the miller knew better and felt a moment of manly frustration.
"I owe you a debt, you see," said Elsa.
From the conversation at the inn, Elsa seemed to have simply drawn some conclusions. The source of the distress between Lawrence and Holo was because they could not be in two places at once.
But if Elsa could be in one of those places, she could help solve the problem—it seemed an oversimple, childish idea, but more than that, it was a very clear, Elsa-like proposal.
However, even if the Delink Company had not insisted on certain conditions, it would still not have been a solution. No matter how optimistically Lawrence regarded her, Elsa was not suited for the combat of trade.
"I'm very grateful that you would offer," said Lawrence with a smile. He did not give his reason for refusing, because it was true that he was grateful.
Despite all her quarreling with Holo, Elsa showed no trace or hint of a grudge. Even merchants, who would cooperate with their mother's worst enemy if it were in their own interest, were rarely so magnanimous.
"I see...," said Elsa, nearly sighing her deep disappointment.
"Might I ask why you offer?" Lawrence asked, though it might have been a pointless question. Elsa's strong faith in the teachings of God might mean that helping others was simply a matter of course for her.
But his merchant's intuition compelled him to ask anyway. His ears were even better than Holo's when it came to sensing whether someone was being truly selfless. He guessed there might be a reason other than pure selfless kindness for Elsa to make such an offer.
And just as he guessed, she replied without anger. "First, I've been turned away by the church here."
Undoubtedly the church in Lenos had no time for people like Elsa, after the fur riots. Before Lawrence could offer any words of comfort, Elsa made a troubled face and continued. "The second reason is...that we're alike."
"Alike?" Lawrence was surprised by this unexpected statement.
Elsa nodded and turned her head to face him. "Our true feelings are obvious, yet we both insist on putting on such great facades of responsibility." She had the face of a great priest, one who could peer into another's heart, see the pain that lurked there, and bring them comfort in its stead.


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

Input:
"I have some spare clothes I can lend you," she said.
Oh? thought Lawrence to himself. He was no Holo, but he had a certain ability to see through people's lies.
But there was no reason to point it out, so he simply nodded, and the two left the shop.
Just as in any other town, the streets of Lenos had names. Every lane, big or small, had wooden signs erected, indicating that it was such-and-such street. Even the small alleys were well paved with cobblestones and had lovely wooden signs.
Lawrence was admiring one as they passed when Elsa suddenly spoke up.
"I have been thinking," she said, almost as though talking to herself. But after a pause, she continued. "Can I be of any use to you?"
"Huh?" Lawrence thought he had misheard, but this time Elsa looked right at him and spoke very clearly.
"Can I be of any use to you? To all of you?" Her honey-colored eyes were as serious as ever. "Especially you—I know you don't want to go to Kieschen. Am I wrong?"
Lawrence looked back into those big eyes, smiled a thin smile, and replied. "That's a surprising offer."
He anticipated her anger, but Elsa's way of being angry was not what he expected. "It is not at all surprising."
She looked steadily back at him.
The street was crowded, and if she kept walking along while looking aside at him, she would have easily been run over by a wagon. Before replying, Lawrence pulled her out of the way as a cart rumbled by, taking no notice of the pedestrian traffic as it went.
"It is surprising," said Lawrence. Pulled close like this, Holo would have pretended bashfulness or looked up at him winsomely, but Elsa did neither. Of course she would not, Lawrence admitted to himself, but he wondered if Evan the miller knew better and felt a moment of manly frustration.
"I owe you a debt, you see," said Elsa.
From the conversation at the inn, Elsa seemed to have simply drawn some conclusions. The source of the distress between Lawrence and Holo was because they could not be in two places at once.
But if Elsa could be in one of those places, she could help solve the problem—it seemed an oversimple, childish idea, but more than that, it was a very clear, Elsa-like proposal.
However, even if the Delink Company had not insisted on certain conditions, it would still not have been a solution. No matter how optimistically Lawrence regarded her, Elsa was not suited for the combat of trade.
"I'm very grateful that you would offer," said Lawrence with a smile. He did not give his reason for refusing, because it was true that he was grateful.
Despite all her quarreling with Holo, Elsa showed no trace or hint of a grudge. Even merchants, who would cooperate with their mother's worst enemy if it were in their own interest, were rarely so magnanimous.
"I see...," said Elsa, nearly sighing her deep disappointment.
"Might I ask why you offer?" Lawrence asked, though it might have been a pointless question. Elsa's strong faith in the teachings of God might mean that helping others was simply a matter of course for her.
But his merchant's intuition compelled him to ask anyway. His ears were even better than Holo's when it came to sensing whether someone was being truly selfless. He guessed there might be a reason other than pure selfless kindness for Elsa to make such an offer.
And just as he guessed, she replied without anger. "First, I've been turned away by the church here."
Undoubtedly the church in Lenos had no time for people like Elsa, after the fur riots. Before Lawrence could offer any words of comfort, Elsa made a troubled face and continued. "The second reason is...that we're alike."
"Alike?" Lawrence was surprised by this unexpected statement.
Elsa nodded and turned her head to face him. "Our true feelings are obvious, yet we both insist on putting on such great facades of responsibility." She had the face of a great priest, one who could peer into another's heart, see the pain that lurked there, and bring them comfort in its stead.

Output:
"I left my village with just that facade. I can't say I don't have experience with it," said Elsa, then looked ahead again.
Surprised, Lawrence regarded her profile. "But finding a priest for your village is a proper reason, isn't it?"
"It is. And yet..." Elsa seemed conflicted. But it was not in the girl's nature to remain indecisive. "Mr. Lawrence."
She looked up at him and said his name. Her face had a vulnerability to it she would never show him in the village of Tereo. It seemed as though she wanted to confess some sin and that Lawrence was the only person she could tell. At the very least, as an older man, perhaps he could give her some perspective.
"This is something I should confess only to God."
Lawrence met Elsa's pained gaze with a smile. "Do not worry. I have every intention of reaching the kingdom of heaven, so I'll pass your message along."
It was a good joke coming from a stingy merchant like him, and Elsa smiled a strange, exhausted smile.
But as a joke, it seemed to have had its intended effect.
Elsa turned forward and rubbed her face, then looked down. She murmured a quick prayer before composing herself. "The reason I am searching for a priest to take charge of the church in my village is because I do not wish to hold the position."
Lawrence knew he could not betray surprise. A confessor's role was only to listen. He took a breath. "And?" he prompted quietly.
"Despite my position, I've had a faint wish." Elsa looked up, suddenly seeming appropriately fragile for a girl her age. She seemed on the verge of tears, and her usual flush of spirited strength was nowhere to be seen.
Elsa would never have shown this face to a stranger. The only other one who would have ever glimpsed it would have been Evan the miller. And as soon as the thought came to him, Lawrence realized the truth.
She gripped tightly the hand-carved seal that she wore about her neck. The seal given to her by someone close to her when she had left the village.
"If possible, my wish is to...someday make Evan my—"
Lawrence did not allow her to continue further. He put his finger to her mouth and, with a sigh, spoke. "You should speak the rest of that sentence not to me, but to him."
The clergy were not allowed to marry.
But if there was a church in a town, then someone had to be in its employ. Elsa had taken that duty all by herself, but it had never been her wish to remain alone.
The facade and the truth.
Knowing Elsa had heard his conversation with Holo and that she realized how similar they were made Lawrence feel too ashamed to look her in the eye.
"But if that's how you've always felt..." Trying to preserve his dignity as the older man in the conversation, Lawrence looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath.
After a span of time, Elsa seemed much calmed. "It makes me very happy. Just the sentiment alone is enough." She looked at him with an expression that made Lawrence rue his own powerlessness.
So he added something. "We merchants are very harsh about borrowing and lending. We don't say such things lightly."
A merchant would happily squeeze debt from a family member. Lawrence thought about saying so but decided there was no need.
Elsa nodded as though forcing herself to accept his words, then smiled awkwardly.
The bell signaling midday rang a series of irregular strikes. Lawrence spoke only after the echo of the bell's toll had faded into the sky.
"Still, your relationship with him was rather obvious, I must say."
Elsa looked up at Lawrence with eyes wide in surprise. "Did you suppose that we were trying to hide it?"
That in and of itself was a surprise, as Lawrence's wry smile made quite clear.
But as Lawrence smiled, beside him Elsa cleared her throat. Lawrence looked, and it seemed as though she were brushing away the embarrassment of her confession and purposefully resuming her serious face.


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

Input:
"I left my village with just that facade. I can't say I don't have experience with it," said Elsa, then looked ahead again.
Surprised, Lawrence regarded her profile. "But finding a priest for your village is a proper reason, isn't it?"
"It is. And yet..." Elsa seemed conflicted. But it was not in the girl's nature to remain indecisive. "Mr. Lawrence."
She looked up at him and said his name. Her face had a vulnerability to it she would never show him in the village of Tereo. It seemed as though she wanted to confess some sin and that Lawrence was the only person she could tell. At the very least, as an older man, perhaps he could give her some perspective.
"This is something I should confess only to God."
Lawrence met Elsa's pained gaze with a smile. "Do not worry. I have every intention of reaching the kingdom of heaven, so I'll pass your message along."
It was a good joke coming from a stingy merchant like him, and Elsa smiled a strange, exhausted smile.
But as a joke, it seemed to have had its intended effect.
Elsa turned forward and rubbed her face, then looked down. She murmured a quick prayer before composing herself. "The reason I am searching for a priest to take charge of the church in my village is because I do not wish to hold the position."
Lawrence knew he could not betray surprise. A confessor's role was only to listen. He took a breath. "And?" he prompted quietly.
"Despite my position, I've had a faint wish." Elsa looked up, suddenly seeming appropriately fragile for a girl her age. She seemed on the verge of tears, and her usual flush of spirited strength was nowhere to be seen.
Elsa would never have shown this face to a stranger. The only other one who would have ever glimpsed it would have been Evan the miller. And as soon as the thought came to him, Lawrence realized the truth.
She gripped tightly the hand-carved seal that she wore about her neck. The seal given to her by someone close to her when she had left the village.
"If possible, my wish is to...someday make Evan my—"
Lawrence did not allow her to continue further. He put his finger to her mouth and, with a sigh, spoke. "You should speak the rest of that sentence not to me, but to him."
The clergy were not allowed to marry.
But if there was a church in a town, then someone had to be in its employ. Elsa had taken that duty all by herself, but it had never been her wish to remain alone.
The facade and the truth.
Knowing Elsa had heard his conversation with Holo and that she realized how similar they were made Lawrence feel too ashamed to look her in the eye.
"But if that's how you've always felt..." Trying to preserve his dignity as the older man in the conversation, Lawrence looked up at the sky, taking a deep breath.
After a span of time, Elsa seemed much calmed. "It makes me very happy. Just the sentiment alone is enough." She looked at him with an expression that made Lawrence rue his own powerlessness.
So he added something. "We merchants are very harsh about borrowing and lending. We don't say such things lightly."
A merchant would happily squeeze debt from a family member. Lawrence thought about saying so but decided there was no need.
Elsa nodded as though forcing herself to accept his words, then smiled awkwardly.
The bell signaling midday rang a series of irregular strikes. Lawrence spoke only after the echo of the bell's toll had faded into the sky.
"Still, your relationship with him was rather obvious, I must say."
Elsa looked up at Lawrence with eyes wide in surprise. "Did you suppose that we were trying to hide it?"
That in and of itself was a surprise, as Lawrence's wry smile made quite clear.
But as Lawrence smiled, beside him Elsa cleared her throat. Lawrence looked, and it seemed as though she were brushing away the embarrassment of her confession and purposefully resuming her serious face.

Output:
She was a clumsy bargainer. But for the straightforward Elsa, it was a good try.
And it was true—she had told him about Evan, and her desire to give solace to anyone suffering in the gap between their heart and their facade was a sincere one.
"You're right." Lawrence raised his hands in surrender.
Elsa cleared her throat again. "To be blunt, the way you two act is unnatural."
Having it thrown in his face so directly made Lawrence feel a touch irritated. "I'm a human, and she's a wolf. There's nothing 'natural' about it," he replied.
Elsa drew a sharp breath at these words, but pressed on nonetheless. "That is not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?" Lawrence immediately replied.
"Why should two lovers not hold hands?"
Hearing this, Lawrence froze in his tracks. And not out of anger.
He was shockingly embarrassed, and his hand came up to cover half his face.
"I simply can't understand it. You say she's a wolf, but there are many such stories in the books my father left behind, so..."
Lawrence held up his other hand in an attempt to get Elsa to stop. He was too humiliated to so much as look at her. He stared off into the distance, waiting for his pounding heart to slow down.
Holo had made fun of him for being "girlish," but he was suddenly shocked to realize how pure and naive he truly was.
"...Pardon me," Lawrence managed with the last of his merchant's composure, and then he just stood there for a moment. For the first time, he knew the destructive power that words like "two lovers" could have when used outside of a poem.
"N-now you see, Miss Elsa, that we live here in reality. Just as we cannot exist in two places at once, solving our problem is not so simple as joining hands."
On that count, Holo's reasoning for going with him to Kieschen was perfect. It was so logical that any merchant the world over would applaud its correctness.
"If that's so, why won't you fight for it? You say that without having even tried! You—"
"—!" Lawrence himself did not know the nature of the verbal explosion he had just swallowed down. But his hand had reached out and grabbed Elsa's robe by the collar.
"...My apologies," he said, immediately coming to his senses and releasing her.
Instead of fixing her clothing, Elsa gave Lawrence a sharp glare. But her anger was not at his outburst, but rather that, despite the intensity of his words, he was still hiding his true feelings behind his own facade.
"I have tried...to fight."
"Truly?" shot back Elsa.
"Truly or not...that I don't know." Lawrence walked on, leaving the flustered Elsa aside. Her face still a mask of disbelief, she trotted to catch up to him. "What do you mean, you 'don't know'?"
"I mean exactly that. Of course I want to go with her to our original destination. I want to go to her homeland. But the circumstances won't allow that. And the logical course of action is to do as she says. It's best for her, and it's best for me. And it's best for Col."
The words the adult decision had a nice ring to them.
Elsa seemed about to say something in response to Lawrence's remarks, but in the end she stopped herself. She looked down, frustrated and pained.
Lawrence himself thought he ought to go to Yoitsu with Holo. No, not thought—wished. But it was impossible to overturn Holo's reasoning. If he did, it would be astonishingly selfish of him, and he could not imagine that Holo would be pleased by such selfishness.
Throwing everything recklessly away and getting a tidy, happy ending only ever happened in stories. In reality, life had to continue.
Holo had spoken with a tired smile on her face—living involved a lot of time. Life was too long to throw everything away just for one moment.
Lawrence and Elsa walked wordlessly along, and finally the inn came into view. The first floor was filled with craftsmen taking their lunch and travelers, too. There were many faces, some happy, some not.


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

Input:
She was a clumsy bargainer. But for the straightforward Elsa, it was a good try.
And it was true—she had told him about Evan, and her desire to give solace to anyone suffering in the gap between their heart and their facade was a sincere one.
"You're right." Lawrence raised his hands in surrender.
Elsa cleared her throat again. "To be blunt, the way you two act is unnatural."
Having it thrown in his face so directly made Lawrence feel a touch irritated. "I'm a human, and she's a wolf. There's nothing 'natural' about it," he replied.
Elsa drew a sharp breath at these words, but pressed on nonetheless. "That is not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?" Lawrence immediately replied.
"Why should two lovers not hold hands?"
Hearing this, Lawrence froze in his tracks. And not out of anger.
He was shockingly embarrassed, and his hand came up to cover half his face.
"I simply can't understand it. You say she's a wolf, but there are many such stories in the books my father left behind, so..."
Lawrence held up his other hand in an attempt to get Elsa to stop. He was too humiliated to so much as look at her. He stared off into the distance, waiting for his pounding heart to slow down.
Holo had made fun of him for being "girlish," but he was suddenly shocked to realize how pure and naive he truly was.
"...Pardon me," Lawrence managed with the last of his merchant's composure, and then he just stood there for a moment. For the first time, he knew the destructive power that words like "two lovers" could have when used outside of a poem.
"N-now you see, Miss Elsa, that we live here in reality. Just as we cannot exist in two places at once, solving our problem is not so simple as joining hands."
On that count, Holo's reasoning for going with him to Kieschen was perfect. It was so logical that any merchant the world over would applaud its correctness.
"If that's so, why won't you fight for it? You say that without having even tried! You—"
"—!" Lawrence himself did not know the nature of the verbal explosion he had just swallowed down. But his hand had reached out and grabbed Elsa's robe by the collar.
"...My apologies," he said, immediately coming to his senses and releasing her.
Instead of fixing her clothing, Elsa gave Lawrence a sharp glare. But her anger was not at his outburst, but rather that, despite the intensity of his words, he was still hiding his true feelings behind his own facade.
"I have tried...to fight."
"Truly?" shot back Elsa.
"Truly or not...that I don't know." Lawrence walked on, leaving the flustered Elsa aside. Her face still a mask of disbelief, she trotted to catch up to him. "What do you mean, you 'don't know'?"
"I mean exactly that. Of course I want to go with her to our original destination. I want to go to her homeland. But the circumstances won't allow that. And the logical course of action is to do as she says. It's best for her, and it's best for me. And it's best for Col."
The words the adult decision had a nice ring to them.
Elsa seemed about to say something in response to Lawrence's remarks, but in the end she stopped herself. She looked down, frustrated and pained.
Lawrence himself thought he ought to go to Yoitsu with Holo. No, not thought—wished. But it was impossible to overturn Holo's reasoning. If he did, it would be astonishingly selfish of him, and he could not imagine that Holo would be pleased by such selfishness.
Throwing everything recklessly away and getting a tidy, happy ending only ever happened in stories. In reality, life had to continue.
Holo had spoken with a tired smile on her face—living involved a lot of time. Life was too long to throw everything away just for one moment.
Lawrence and Elsa walked wordlessly along, and finally the inn came into view. The first floor was filled with craftsmen taking their lunch and travelers, too. There were many faces, some happy, some not.

Output:
All heroes had to face many difficulties and countless dangers—but not everyone who faced difficulty and danger became a hero.
Most of them just died along the way.
Lawrence was a traveling merchant. No one would ever fault him for being extremely cautious, and cautious he ought well be.
Lawrence quietly climbed the stairs. He heard no creaking floorboards, but given the small footfalls behind him, Elsa was following him up.
Seen from the outside, he was surely a pathetic sight. Perhaps too pathetic to leave alone.
But this was the way of the world.
Lawrence allowed himself to feel at least a little self-pity as he murmured the words in his heart and smiled a sad, tired smile.
"Can there not be a miracle?" came Elsa's short, sharp words.
"Can there not be a miracle?" she said again, as Lawrence looked over his shoulder.
Elsa had stopped on the stairs, looking up at Lawrence, who was about to round the landing.
"You and she came to our village and created a miracle, which saved us all. Can you not..." Elsa swallowed her words and seemed to be holding back tears. "If a miracle cannot save you as well, then how can I go on teaching the word of God?"
Her honey-colored eyes looked up at Lawrence, penetrating, but there was no trace of anything like hostility in them.
Lawrence scratched his head and averted his eyes. Elsa was wholly and completely, from the bottom of her heart, a servant of God.
"I know it's selfish of me to say so, I know that, but—"
"No, you haven't said anything wrong or mistaken. It's simply that we, or at least I, am not a pure enough soul to be saved by a miracle," said Lawrence, stepping down the stairs and crouching down in front of Elsa. He reached out and straightened the collar that his earlier violence had set askew.
Elsa did not try to brush him away or show any sign of disgust. She merely watched him.
"It turns out, the Myuri mercenaries are close to her homeland."
Her face turned confused, as though wondering what he was getting at. Lawrence checked her left and right lapels for evenness, then flattened them with a pat, at which Elsa did not so much as flinch.
"Myuri, you see," he continued, "is the name of someone my companion separated from, centuries ago in her homeland. Someone she thought long dead." Lawrence had turned his back to her, so he did not know what happened next.
But it seemed to Lawrence that her expression did not change very much.
"He's probably alive, though. She doesn't know yet. I'm going to tell her in Kieschen, when we part ways."
"Why?" came the short demand from behind him.
"Because I want her to concentrate on the journey with me until then. A mercenary band would never name themselves after a woman. It's ridiculous, but I'm jealous. We've gotten this far, I may as well confess it."
Lawrence put his hand out to the room's door and looked back at Elsa.
"I wished that Myuri would have stayed dead. Horrible, aren't I?" He sighed and pushed the door open. He wanted to take a step inside and then slam the door behind him. "I should think that if miracles kept happening to a man like me, that would be a god whose word you couldn't spread."
He began unpacking bags as he searched for a change of Holo's clothes. Once she left, he would have to sell them—the expensive clothes she had demanded.
Behind him, Elsa too entered the room and from her bag produced a set of clothes.
"That is indeed awful of you. No doubt God will punish you." Her blunt words were somehow comforting.
Lawrence stood, a smile still lingering on his face, and made ready to leave the room. But unexpectedly, Elsa's words followed him. "And yet I still do not understand."
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that she was plainly angry.
"Feeling the way you do, yet trying to act rationally, it's—I simply don't understand. That's what's unnatural. You should choose one or the other."


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

Input:
All heroes had to face many difficulties and countless dangers—but not everyone who faced difficulty and danger became a hero.
Most of them just died along the way.
Lawrence was a traveling merchant. No one would ever fault him for being extremely cautious, and cautious he ought well be.
Lawrence quietly climbed the stairs. He heard no creaking floorboards, but given the small footfalls behind him, Elsa was following him up.
Seen from the outside, he was surely a pathetic sight. Perhaps too pathetic to leave alone.
But this was the way of the world.
Lawrence allowed himself to feel at least a little self-pity as he murmured the words in his heart and smiled a sad, tired smile.
"Can there not be a miracle?" came Elsa's short, sharp words.
"Can there not be a miracle?" she said again, as Lawrence looked over his shoulder.
Elsa had stopped on the stairs, looking up at Lawrence, who was about to round the landing.
"You and she came to our village and created a miracle, which saved us all. Can you not..." Elsa swallowed her words and seemed to be holding back tears. "If a miracle cannot save you as well, then how can I go on teaching the word of God?"
Her honey-colored eyes looked up at Lawrence, penetrating, but there was no trace of anything like hostility in them.
Lawrence scratched his head and averted his eyes. Elsa was wholly and completely, from the bottom of her heart, a servant of God.
"I know it's selfish of me to say so, I know that, but—"
"No, you haven't said anything wrong or mistaken. It's simply that we, or at least I, am not a pure enough soul to be saved by a miracle," said Lawrence, stepping down the stairs and crouching down in front of Elsa. He reached out and straightened the collar that his earlier violence had set askew.
Elsa did not try to brush him away or show any sign of disgust. She merely watched him.
"It turns out, the Myuri mercenaries are close to her homeland."
Her face turned confused, as though wondering what he was getting at. Lawrence checked her left and right lapels for evenness, then flattened them with a pat, at which Elsa did not so much as flinch.
"Myuri, you see," he continued, "is the name of someone my companion separated from, centuries ago in her homeland. Someone she thought long dead." Lawrence had turned his back to her, so he did not know what happened next.
But it seemed to Lawrence that her expression did not change very much.
"He's probably alive, though. She doesn't know yet. I'm going to tell her in Kieschen, when we part ways."
"Why?" came the short demand from behind him.
"Because I want her to concentrate on the journey with me until then. A mercenary band would never name themselves after a woman. It's ridiculous, but I'm jealous. We've gotten this far, I may as well confess it."
Lawrence put his hand out to the room's door and looked back at Elsa.
"I wished that Myuri would have stayed dead. Horrible, aren't I?" He sighed and pushed the door open. He wanted to take a step inside and then slam the door behind him. "I should think that if miracles kept happening to a man like me, that would be a god whose word you couldn't spread."
He began unpacking bags as he searched for a change of Holo's clothes. Once she left, he would have to sell them—the expensive clothes she had demanded.
Behind him, Elsa too entered the room and from her bag produced a set of clothes.
"That is indeed awful of you. No doubt God will punish you." Her blunt words were somehow comforting.
Lawrence stood, a smile still lingering on his face, and made ready to leave the room. But unexpectedly, Elsa's words followed him. "And yet I still do not understand."
Looking over his shoulder, he saw that she was plainly angry.
"Feeling the way you do, yet trying to act rationally, it's—I simply don't understand. That's what's unnatural. You should choose one or the other."

Output:
He added that last excuse, but it was just that: an excuse.
Elsa had been speaking from her heart, as Lawrence was perfectly aware. But he could not let her go on.
"You're quite right." Elsa took a deep breath and tears spilled from her eyes. "But I wanted to repay my debt to you both. It doesn't seem to me that either of you are acting in your own best interests, so I wanted to at least—"
"Me, no. But she is, I assure you."
Lawrence was the only one being stubborn about wanting to go with her to Yoitsu. Holo wanted to do so, if possible, but only after considering other possibilities. That was the extent of it for her.
"Two lovers," Elsa had so shamelessly said, but the truth was much less clear. Lawrence found it easy to think of the words as a bitter irony. So, the news about Myuri did nothing to put his heart at peace.
But Elsa simply looked back at him. Her honey-colored eyes were noble and sharp, like the pommel jewels of a sword. "Then my question still stands. Why won't you turn and fight back?"
For a moment, Lawrence did not understand what he was hearing.
"It's like there are two Evans. Your indecision is so infuriating I can hardly stand it. Why won't you just act the way you honestly feel? Why are you convinced that swallowing down your own opinion is best for her? God is the friend of the righteous. You have nothing to fear!" As Elsa went on, her voice rose, and with these last words, her shoulders shook.
The content of her ranting had a logic to it but was also incoherent. She herself seemed not to know exactly what she was going on about. She was probably just speaking her thoughts as they came to mind.
But Lawrence understood what she meant all too well. At the very least, he understood the feelings that had welled up from inside Elsa.
But the most important thing was that Lawrence had taken all that, forced it underneath "reason," and ascribed it to Holo.
For trying to act so wisely, it seemed he had been quite stupid.
"You're right about everything," said Lawrence in an exhausted tone. His words came without a hint of deception. "But I'm a simple merchant."
"So think!" Elsa seemed to have forgotten why she herself was angry. Yet she still glared up at Lawrence, continuing her verbal assault. "Don't pray, think. If you say you've turned away from God and deserve no miracles, then stop praying and think like a merchant!"
It was a strange entreaty for her to make. Elsa had nothing to gain from it, yet she was truly angry at Lawrence and Holo.
"You merchants use all sorts of unbelievable techniques, don't you? You have means available to you that can only be called magic, don't you? Or if...if you're hesitating to use such despicable methods, then be at ease." Elsa straightened and directed her unwavering gaze right at Lawrence. "I will do all I can to assure their correctness in the face of God's teachings."
This was where he should laugh her off surely.
If a hundred merchants heard the story, then those hundred merchants and twenty of their friends would all agree that Holo's way was the right one, while handing Elsa a glass of wine and telling her to calm down and have a drink.
But Elsa's view was very attractive. She was telling him to think.
Elsa herself was no fool. She was certainly smart enough to understand there was a certain logic to Holo's way. But she was saying all of this because she could not stand to watch them go through with it.
So at the very least, it was worth putting his head to work trying to find a way to respond to her with some kindness. She was, after all, offering to make excuses to God for whatever underhanded methods he might use. It would do to give the matter some thought, at least, before giving up.
He could not very well just turn suddenly defiant toward Holo, but there was the possibility that he could claim some small business reason for him to go.


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

Input:
He added that last excuse, but it was just that: an excuse.
Elsa had been speaking from her heart, as Lawrence was perfectly aware. But he could not let her go on.
"You're quite right." Elsa took a deep breath and tears spilled from her eyes. "But I wanted to repay my debt to you both. It doesn't seem to me that either of you are acting in your own best interests, so I wanted to at least—"
"Me, no. But she is, I assure you."
Lawrence was the only one being stubborn about wanting to go with her to Yoitsu. Holo wanted to do so, if possible, but only after considering other possibilities. That was the extent of it for her.
"Two lovers," Elsa had so shamelessly said, but the truth was much less clear. Lawrence found it easy to think of the words as a bitter irony. So, the news about Myuri did nothing to put his heart at peace.
But Elsa simply looked back at him. Her honey-colored eyes were noble and sharp, like the pommel jewels of a sword. "Then my question still stands. Why won't you turn and fight back?"
For a moment, Lawrence did not understand what he was hearing.
"It's like there are two Evans. Your indecision is so infuriating I can hardly stand it. Why won't you just act the way you honestly feel? Why are you convinced that swallowing down your own opinion is best for her? God is the friend of the righteous. You have nothing to fear!" As Elsa went on, her voice rose, and with these last words, her shoulders shook.
The content of her ranting had a logic to it but was also incoherent. She herself seemed not to know exactly what she was going on about. She was probably just speaking her thoughts as they came to mind.
But Lawrence understood what she meant all too well. At the very least, he understood the feelings that had welled up from inside Elsa.
But the most important thing was that Lawrence had taken all that, forced it underneath "reason," and ascribed it to Holo.
For trying to act so wisely, it seemed he had been quite stupid.
"You're right about everything," said Lawrence in an exhausted tone. His words came without a hint of deception. "But I'm a simple merchant."
"So think!" Elsa seemed to have forgotten why she herself was angry. Yet she still glared up at Lawrence, continuing her verbal assault. "Don't pray, think. If you say you've turned away from God and deserve no miracles, then stop praying and think like a merchant!"
It was a strange entreaty for her to make. Elsa had nothing to gain from it, yet she was truly angry at Lawrence and Holo.
"You merchants use all sorts of unbelievable techniques, don't you? You have means available to you that can only be called magic, don't you? Or if...if you're hesitating to use such despicable methods, then be at ease." Elsa straightened and directed her unwavering gaze right at Lawrence. "I will do all I can to assure their correctness in the face of God's teachings."
This was where he should laugh her off surely.
If a hundred merchants heard the story, then those hundred merchants and twenty of their friends would all agree that Holo's way was the right one, while handing Elsa a glass of wine and telling her to calm down and have a drink.
But Elsa's view was very attractive. She was telling him to think.
Elsa herself was no fool. She was certainly smart enough to understand there was a certain logic to Holo's way. But she was saying all of this because she could not stand to watch them go through with it.
So at the very least, it was worth putting his head to work trying to find a way to respond to her with some kindness. She was, after all, offering to make excuses to God for whatever underhanded methods he might use. It would do to give the matter some thought, at least, before giving up.
He could not very well just turn suddenly defiant toward Holo, but there was the possibility that he could claim some small business reason for him to go.

Output:
Kidnap the company master's daughter or wife and threaten him? Put a curse upon him? Or hire a band of mercenaries?
It was rather fun just thinking of such mad possibilities.
But in truth, merchants did not possess the magical abilities that Elsa had misunderstood them to possess. Even money orders, those mystical documents that let you move money without carrying heavy coin on your back, were not so mysterious once you understood how they worked.
They were simply a way of moving goods down the invisible canal called credit. Money was not being magically transported. There was a principle to it. Even if one used credit backward, all they could steal was money, not life.
Lawrence's thoughts got that care and were suddenly caught.
Use credit backward?
The words struck him as strange, and for a moment he realized his cognition had gone idle.
Elsa looked at him curiously and was about to say something, but Lawrence stopped her with a raised hand. He suddenly had the feeling there was something he had missed. As though there were keys to this problem scattered all over Lenos—golden keys that would unlock the path for him to travel to Yoitsu with Holo.
The hope beat almost painfully in his heart as the scenes he had witnessed since arriving in the town flashed through his mind.
Lawrence looked at Elsa.
Elsa, who feared nothing, seemed to flinch away from him. Surely that was not his imagination.
Then, a few moments later, Lawrence arrived at the clear realization that he was smiling.
"Incidentally, if I really did think of a way to make a miracle happen, what would you do for me?"
It was surely the first time he had ever asked, "What would you do for me?"
"...I-I'd give you my blessing."
But even when intimidated, Elsa was a splendid clergywoman, so Lawrence kept some of his sudden self-admiration in reserve.
What he had thought of was such a contemptible plan that he would have laughed off the very idea had it not been for her urging.
When Lawrence and the others returned to Philon's shop, there was no one inside. The door that led into the courtyard had been left open, and when Lawrence popped his head through and took a look around, he saw a temporary charcoal-fired stove in the middle of being set up.
"Oh, you're back, are you? This'll take a bit of time yet, so you can wait inside."
Whether he had been hired with coin or was simply an acquaintance, there was a cook-seeming fellow expertly skinning the eels while, around him, apprentices stood expectantly.
Lawrence nodded at Philon and ducked back into the shop, where Elsa was watching him uncertainly.
"You're the one who put me up to this, remember that," said Lawrence with mischief in his voice, at which Elsa's shoulders tensed in a flinch.
But her gaze was unwavering and her lips tight.
"I'm grateful, truly. I would've gotten old before thinking of such a thing on my own." Lawrence smiled and took a breath. His destination was the back of the shop.
"In my father's letters," said Elsa suddenly to Lawrence's back, "he wrote to tell me to go my own way. In his books there were many stories of modest happiness borne from compromise, but that no one had ever been truly satisfied with mere compromise. And..." She grasped the hand-carved seal around her neck and put on her own mischievous smile. "...There were many stories where even when failure came, it brought satisfaction with it."
A business was built from successes and failures piled atop one another. Lawrence had known that for a very long time.
"You're quite right," said Lawrence, and with long strides, he headed down the hallway, deeper into Philon's shop.
It was well cleaned, and he could tell immediately that it received fresh air daily. Interesting that despite the narrow hall and low ceiling at the back of the shop, it was brighter than the shop's front, where customers were received.
But bright places were also places where voices carried well. After no time at all, he heard the happy voices of Holo and Col.


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

Input:
Kidnap the company master's daughter or wife and threaten him? Put a curse upon him? Or hire a band of mercenaries?
It was rather fun just thinking of such mad possibilities.
But in truth, merchants did not possess the magical abilities that Elsa had misunderstood them to possess. Even money orders, those mystical documents that let you move money without carrying heavy coin on your back, were not so mysterious once you understood how they worked.
They were simply a way of moving goods down the invisible canal called credit. Money was not being magically transported. There was a principle to it. Even if one used credit backward, all they could steal was money, not life.
Lawrence's thoughts got that care and were suddenly caught.
Use credit backward?
The words struck him as strange, and for a moment he realized his cognition had gone idle.
Elsa looked at him curiously and was about to say something, but Lawrence stopped her with a raised hand. He suddenly had the feeling there was something he had missed. As though there were keys to this problem scattered all over Lenos—golden keys that would unlock the path for him to travel to Yoitsu with Holo.
The hope beat almost painfully in his heart as the scenes he had witnessed since arriving in the town flashed through his mind.
Lawrence looked at Elsa.
Elsa, who feared nothing, seemed to flinch away from him. Surely that was not his imagination.
Then, a few moments later, Lawrence arrived at the clear realization that he was smiling.
"Incidentally, if I really did think of a way to make a miracle happen, what would you do for me?"
It was surely the first time he had ever asked, "What would you do for me?"
"...I-I'd give you my blessing."
But even when intimidated, Elsa was a splendid clergywoman, so Lawrence kept some of his sudden self-admiration in reserve.
What he had thought of was such a contemptible plan that he would have laughed off the very idea had it not been for her urging.
When Lawrence and the others returned to Philon's shop, there was no one inside. The door that led into the courtyard had been left open, and when Lawrence popped his head through and took a look around, he saw a temporary charcoal-fired stove in the middle of being set up.
"Oh, you're back, are you? This'll take a bit of time yet, so you can wait inside."
Whether he had been hired with coin or was simply an acquaintance, there was a cook-seeming fellow expertly skinning the eels while, around him, apprentices stood expectantly.
Lawrence nodded at Philon and ducked back into the shop, where Elsa was watching him uncertainly.
"You're the one who put me up to this, remember that," said Lawrence with mischief in his voice, at which Elsa's shoulders tensed in a flinch.
But her gaze was unwavering and her lips tight.
"I'm grateful, truly. I would've gotten old before thinking of such a thing on my own." Lawrence smiled and took a breath. His destination was the back of the shop.
"In my father's letters," said Elsa suddenly to Lawrence's back, "he wrote to tell me to go my own way. In his books there were many stories of modest happiness borne from compromise, but that no one had ever been truly satisfied with mere compromise. And..." She grasped the hand-carved seal around her neck and put on her own mischievous smile. "...There were many stories where even when failure came, it brought satisfaction with it."
A business was built from successes and failures piled atop one another. Lawrence had known that for a very long time.
"You're quite right," said Lawrence, and with long strides, he headed down the hallway, deeper into Philon's shop.
It was well cleaned, and he could tell immediately that it received fresh air daily. Interesting that despite the narrow hall and low ceiling at the back of the shop, it was brighter than the shop's front, where customers were received.
But bright places were also places where voices carried well. After no time at all, he heard the happy voices of Holo and Col.

Output:
Lawrence pulled aside the curtain that hung as a partition and peered inside and was immediately greeted by the back of a stark-naked Col, who, despite trying to escape Holo, had been caught as she ladled hot water over him.
"Aye, there you are! The water of Nyohhira is a hundred times hotter than this!" she said appropriately enough.
Of course, Col had his own ladle to plunge into the basin, so he was giving as good as he got.
When he noticed Lawrence, though, Col hastily hid behind the basin. Holo, meanwhile, looked at him as though a new prey animal had arrived.
"If you play around like this, you're going to catch cold. Here," said Lawrence, tossing large towels at the pair, who had long since finished actually bathing.
Col caught his with his hand; Holo, with her head.
"I've put each change of clothes at the door. Col, yours are from Elsa, so make sure to thank her."
"I-I will!" said Col brightly, then immediately sneezed.
Holo and Col were both completely naked. Col dried himself off, then hurried to put his clothes on.
"You, too," said Lawrence, at which Holo sighed an unamused sigh, shaking her tail rapidly. "Honestly," he said. "I suppose no one saw you?"
Her tail wagging flung a shocking amount of water around, but her hair received different treatment. Holo wrung it out with her hands, the water in it dribbling to the floor. "Just what sort of a fool do you take me for—achoo!"
When wet like this, her delicate body and pale, translucent skin were like a polished jewel of some kind. But her sneeze made her seem so silly, and combined with her body, she suddenly seemed very childlike.
Lawrence sighed and went to help Holo dry her hair.
"Is lunch prepared yet?"
"They're making the stove now. Just a bit longer."
"Mm. As the men at the docks said, 'They're best covered in olive oil and just roasted.'" Her hair was beautiful, but for all that beauty it held a great deal of water. No matter how Lawrence brushed, there seemed to be no end to it. "This sort of bathing isn't bad, but in Nyohhira you can have strong, snow-chilled wine brought to you. How about that, eh?"
Holo rambled on from underneath the towel. She seemed a bit cold—perhaps the water in the basin had mostly cooled.
"Certainly, and since everyone in the area does likewise, they all keep the prices good and high." Lawrence took the towel off her head and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Holo brushed aside the hair that had fallen over her forehead. "Mm," she replied. "Come, my body's next," she said flirtatiously, putting her hand to her hip and looking up at him as though to say, "How about it?"
If he flinched, the game would be over. He looked down into those amber eyes so filled with challenge, then slowly closed his own. "Hurry and dry yourself off and get dressed," he said.
He could practically hear her cheeks puff out in irritation at Lawrence's failure to become flustered. Did her actions come from being simply unworried about the end of their journey, or was it an act put on precisely because of that approaching end? Lawrence did not know.
But just as Holo was so talented at such little performances, there was a limit to how much Lawrence could hide.
"And what shall I do once I'm changed?"
"I want to find Mr. Le Roi. Help me."
Poor Le Roi would be running all over town, trying to buy provisions without any connections in a market where everyone was hoarding for their own speculation. But Lawrence did not want to find him in order to extend him any sort of helping hand.
Holo soon realized this. She gave Lawrence a searching look. "For what purpose?"
Rivulets of water fell from her curves.
The hot water had cooled, and it was cold in the room.
Holo's wet skin was rapidly cooling, and her eyes were even more icy than usual.
"There is a mercenary band," said Lawrence, close enough to Holo that the droplets on her body threatened to wet him, too, as he looked down at her, "near Yoitsu."
"...Wha—!"


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

Input:
Lawrence pulled aside the curtain that hung as a partition and peered inside and was immediately greeted by the back of a stark-naked Col, who, despite trying to escape Holo, had been caught as she ladled hot water over him.
"Aye, there you are! The water of Nyohhira is a hundred times hotter than this!" she said appropriately enough.
Of course, Col had his own ladle to plunge into the basin, so he was giving as good as he got.
When he noticed Lawrence, though, Col hastily hid behind the basin. Holo, meanwhile, looked at him as though a new prey animal had arrived.
"If you play around like this, you're going to catch cold. Here," said Lawrence, tossing large towels at the pair, who had long since finished actually bathing.
Col caught his with his hand; Holo, with her head.
"I've put each change of clothes at the door. Col, yours are from Elsa, so make sure to thank her."
"I-I will!" said Col brightly, then immediately sneezed.
Holo and Col were both completely naked. Col dried himself off, then hurried to put his clothes on.
"You, too," said Lawrence, at which Holo sighed an unamused sigh, shaking her tail rapidly. "Honestly," he said. "I suppose no one saw you?"
Her tail wagging flung a shocking amount of water around, but her hair received different treatment. Holo wrung it out with her hands, the water in it dribbling to the floor. "Just what sort of a fool do you take me for—achoo!"
When wet like this, her delicate body and pale, translucent skin were like a polished jewel of some kind. But her sneeze made her seem so silly, and combined with her body, she suddenly seemed very childlike.
Lawrence sighed and went to help Holo dry her hair.
"Is lunch prepared yet?"
"They're making the stove now. Just a bit longer."
"Mm. As the men at the docks said, 'They're best covered in olive oil and just roasted.'" Her hair was beautiful, but for all that beauty it held a great deal of water. No matter how Lawrence brushed, there seemed to be no end to it. "This sort of bathing isn't bad, but in Nyohhira you can have strong, snow-chilled wine brought to you. How about that, eh?"
Holo rambled on from underneath the towel. She seemed a bit cold—perhaps the water in the basin had mostly cooled.
"Certainly, and since everyone in the area does likewise, they all keep the prices good and high." Lawrence took the towel off her head and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Holo brushed aside the hair that had fallen over her forehead. "Mm," she replied. "Come, my body's next," she said flirtatiously, putting her hand to her hip and looking up at him as though to say, "How about it?"
If he flinched, the game would be over. He looked down into those amber eyes so filled with challenge, then slowly closed his own. "Hurry and dry yourself off and get dressed," he said.
He could practically hear her cheeks puff out in irritation at Lawrence's failure to become flustered. Did her actions come from being simply unworried about the end of their journey, or was it an act put on precisely because of that approaching end? Lawrence did not know.
But just as Holo was so talented at such little performances, there was a limit to how much Lawrence could hide.
"And what shall I do once I'm changed?"
"I want to find Mr. Le Roi. Help me."
Poor Le Roi would be running all over town, trying to buy provisions without any connections in a market where everyone was hoarding for their own speculation. But Lawrence did not want to find him in order to extend him any sort of helping hand.
Holo soon realized this. She gave Lawrence a searching look. "For what purpose?"
Rivulets of water fell from her curves.
The hot water had cooled, and it was cold in the room.
Holo's wet skin was rapidly cooling, and her eyes were even more icy than usual.
"There is a mercenary band," said Lawrence, close enough to Holo that the droplets on her body threatened to wet him, too, as he looked down at her, "near Yoitsu."
"...Wha—!"

Output:
"Find Mr. Le Roi for me. I need to see him." Lawrence looked away and made as if his business was done, but Holo grabbed him by his lapel. Her face was beyond anger.
"What's your aim, then?"
"I have a proposal for him."
Holo bared her fangs and through the gaps between them hissed a sort of sigh. But before that could gain enough mass to become an explosion, Lawrence put his hand to Holo's left cheek. "I'm not going to break any promises."
He bent down so that he was even with her red-tinged amber eyes. Those clear, beautiful eyes.
"I'm a merchant. I would never break a contract so easily."
His words carried a twofold meaning.
Lawrence stood. "But I am going to propose a change in plans. So far as circumstances allow," he added quietly.
"Do you—" Holo started, but her voice caught. She strengthened her grip on Lawrence's lapel, as though to steady herself. "Do you mean to say that you won't be going to Kieschen?"
"That depends."
Lawrence was quite sure that it was his own conceited nature that made him think Holo was about to cry.
In truth, she was surely and deeply disgusted—disgusted that this fool was up to one of his fool schemes again.
"...Don't you tell me that you're..."
"Yes. Jealous," said Lawrence lightly, returning Holo's look. "Of Myuri, of course."
Holo was at a loss. She was so appalled and disappointed that Lawrence could practically hear it.
"Or is Myuri a woman? In which case we can just laugh about this." He stared right at Holo, who finally averted her gaze.
Then, slowly, she shook her head. "But come—Myuri is not what you're thinking—"
"But while you're reunited with him, I'll be alone on my wagon with my thoughts. To be frank, I hate that idea."
He took Holo's small hand in his and realized that it was quite cold. He took the towel that still hung around her shoulders and began to dry her face and neck with it.
"What will you do?" she asked.
"Make it so we don't have to go to Kieschen. That's why I need to talk to Mr. Le Roi right away. I ought to be able to save Col and Elsa the trouble of going to Yoitsu as well."
Lawrence moved the towel from Holo's neck to her upper arm, but she brushed it off, annoyed. "Can you do such a thing?"
No matter how perfectly elaborate his answer, if there was a single flaw in it, she would not miss it. Those keen, unforgiving eyes of hers gazed at Lawrence.
For some reason Lawrence found himself smiling and replying with a self-deprecating tone. "I hope to. This...," he began, then realized the reason for his smile. "As a merchant, this is the only way I can turn and fight."
Holo drew her chin in, as though she had taken a bite of something bitter. She looked up to Lawrence in disgust, as though to say, "You're hopeless, you fool."
And then she did say it. "You fool."
Lawrence smiled and nodded cheerfully. "If it doesn't work out, I'll give up. That's the truth."
Holo could tell when someone was lying. He looked to her as though to say, "Tell me it isn't," at which she drew her chin down even farther and made a grumbling sound.
Holo's gaze was an exceedingly dubious one.
Lawrence cleared his throat and continued. "Don't you think I've matured some?"
He had been beaten, kicked, thrown away his life and his coin purse, all to protect Holo. To follow her, to stay with her. If this was the result of all that, it had not been such a bad journey.
Holo neither laughed nor raged, and by now she seemed past even frustration or shock. She looked at Lawrence's smile and slumped, exhausted. And yet her face was very near to burying itself in Lawrence's chest.
"You are a fool," she said quietly and sighed. She picked up the towel from where it had fallen and roughly wrapped it around her body. "Truly, such a fool!"
Lawrence was fine being a fool.
He watched Holo roughly dry herself off, happily content to be a fool.
It was just as Elsa had said—he felt so much better having decided to fight back.


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

Input:
"Find Mr. Le Roi for me. I need to see him." Lawrence looked away and made as if his business was done, but Holo grabbed him by his lapel. Her face was beyond anger.
"What's your aim, then?"
"I have a proposal for him."
Holo bared her fangs and through the gaps between them hissed a sort of sigh. But before that could gain enough mass to become an explosion, Lawrence put his hand to Holo's left cheek. "I'm not going to break any promises."
He bent down so that he was even with her red-tinged amber eyes. Those clear, beautiful eyes.
"I'm a merchant. I would never break a contract so easily."
His words carried a twofold meaning.
Lawrence stood. "But I am going to propose a change in plans. So far as circumstances allow," he added quietly.
"Do you—" Holo started, but her voice caught. She strengthened her grip on Lawrence's lapel, as though to steady herself. "Do you mean to say that you won't be going to Kieschen?"
"That depends."
Lawrence was quite sure that it was his own conceited nature that made him think Holo was about to cry.
In truth, she was surely and deeply disgusted—disgusted that this fool was up to one of his fool schemes again.
"...Don't you tell me that you're..."
"Yes. Jealous," said Lawrence lightly, returning Holo's look. "Of Myuri, of course."
Holo was at a loss. She was so appalled and disappointed that Lawrence could practically hear it.
"Or is Myuri a woman? In which case we can just laugh about this." He stared right at Holo, who finally averted her gaze.
Then, slowly, she shook her head. "But come—Myuri is not what you're thinking—"
"But while you're reunited with him, I'll be alone on my wagon with my thoughts. To be frank, I hate that idea."
He took Holo's small hand in his and realized that it was quite cold. He took the towel that still hung around her shoulders and began to dry her face and neck with it.
"What will you do?" she asked.
"Make it so we don't have to go to Kieschen. That's why I need to talk to Mr. Le Roi right away. I ought to be able to save Col and Elsa the trouble of going to Yoitsu as well."
Lawrence moved the towel from Holo's neck to her upper arm, but she brushed it off, annoyed. "Can you do such a thing?"
No matter how perfectly elaborate his answer, if there was a single flaw in it, she would not miss it. Those keen, unforgiving eyes of hers gazed at Lawrence.
For some reason Lawrence found himself smiling and replying with a self-deprecating tone. "I hope to. This...," he began, then realized the reason for his smile. "As a merchant, this is the only way I can turn and fight."
Holo drew her chin in, as though she had taken a bite of something bitter. She looked up to Lawrence in disgust, as though to say, "You're hopeless, you fool."
And then she did say it. "You fool."
Lawrence smiled and nodded cheerfully. "If it doesn't work out, I'll give up. That's the truth."
Holo could tell when someone was lying. He looked to her as though to say, "Tell me it isn't," at which she drew her chin down even farther and made a grumbling sound.
Holo's gaze was an exceedingly dubious one.
Lawrence cleared his throat and continued. "Don't you think I've matured some?"
He had been beaten, kicked, thrown away his life and his coin purse, all to protect Holo. To follow her, to stay with her. If this was the result of all that, it had not been such a bad journey.
Holo neither laughed nor raged, and by now she seemed past even frustration or shock. She looked at Lawrence's smile and slumped, exhausted. And yet her face was very near to burying itself in Lawrence's chest.
"You are a fool," she said quietly and sighed. She picked up the towel from where it had fallen and roughly wrapped it around her body. "Truly, such a fool!"
Lawrence was fine being a fool.
He watched Holo roughly dry herself off, happily content to be a fool.
It was just as Elsa had said—he felt so much better having decided to fight back.

Output:
Her tail had just been washed, true, but in any case it was fully fluffed. "So we have to find that meat bun now?"
"Yes."
"Honestly...you'd best hope we're back in time for lunch!" declared Holo, huffing a deep and irritated sigh.
There was something distinctly animalistic about Le Roi. Not in the way he looked, of course, but in the keenness of his senses.
The bookseller was negotiating at a trading company's loading dock when he turned at the sound of Lawrence's footsteps.
And the place was by no means quiet. It was noisy with the shouts of men and neighs of horses, and all the din of everyday chatter.
"You've got a frightening look on your face, my friend," said Le Roi jokingly and grinned.
"That's my line."
Le Roi's tone was even friendlier than usual, since behind Lawrence he could see Holo's form.
If Holo had not been there, the bookseller would have looked at Lawrence as an untrustworthy enemy.
"If you're looking for provisions, I've already managed to buy up quite a bit."
The right half of Le Roi's face distorted skillfully. He looked over his shoulder. "Never mind, then," he said shortly. The man with the trading company waved him off as though already fed up with Le Roi's attempts to force him to sell.
"Walking around with a lady companion and an expression like that, no merchant alive will trust you," said Le Roi to Lawrence, as though they were just passing by each other.
Lawrence's shoulders slumped.
"As I'm only too aware," he replied smoothly.
"So, what business brings you here? Don't tell me you've gotten cold feet."
In the world of credit and trust, sudden changes of heart were avoided above all else. Outright failure was far and away more preferable.
"No."
"Well, what, then?"
"Something's come up rather suddenly, I'm afraid. I won't be able to go to Kieschen."
They left the shop and walked alongside Le Roi, making for a less crowded part of the street. They passed around Holo, who let a bit of distance open between her and the two men before following.
"Are you mad?"
"My companion asked me the same thing."
Le Roi clapped his mouth shut and glared at Lawrence. But there was confusion on his face. He could not grasp whatever it was Lawrence was thinking. "Please, no games. I'm expecting a thousand silver pieces in profit from this deal."
He spoke as though he was a mercenary boasting of having killed a bear with nothing but his fists.
But that was not what Lawrence smiled at. He simply could not help but find it amusing that he was actually torn between his own pathetic jealousy and a deal of such size.
"You'll excuse me, but I won't be kicking aside an agreement we've already settled on." Le Roi's round face distorted in a grimace from one edge to the other.
Lawrence lightly cleared his throat. The cold air tickled the inside of his cheeks. "About the company in Kieschen—it's a rather large one, with a special agreement with the Delink Company, correct?"
The Delink Company would not agree to provide only dark-skinned girls unless the customer was of the highest quality. And a company able to make such demands would not be a small one.
Still cautious and unable to see where Lawrence was going with all this, Le Roi nodded slowly.
"Which means they must deal very regularly with many other companies. I'm not mistaken in thinking so, am I?"
"...I suppose not. But what of it?" Le Roi was obviously growing impatient, but Lawrence did not want to skip to the end of his explanation just yet.
He gulped and continued. "If so, I ought to be able to remain in this town and still aid you in your purchase."
The bookseller stopped in his tracks, the whole of his being working to anticipate what Lawrence was going to say next.
Lawrence looked over his shoulder to follow him, so sudden was Le Roi's stop. The sun was just then low in the sky, so he squinted when he spoke. "With money orders."
"Money orders? How? They're just a convenient way of moving money."


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

Input:
Her tail had just been washed, true, but in any case it was fully fluffed. "So we have to find that meat bun now?"
"Yes."
"Honestly...you'd best hope we're back in time for lunch!" declared Holo, huffing a deep and irritated sigh.
There was something distinctly animalistic about Le Roi. Not in the way he looked, of course, but in the keenness of his senses.
The bookseller was negotiating at a trading company's loading dock when he turned at the sound of Lawrence's footsteps.
And the place was by no means quiet. It was noisy with the shouts of men and neighs of horses, and all the din of everyday chatter.
"You've got a frightening look on your face, my friend," said Le Roi jokingly and grinned.
"That's my line."
Le Roi's tone was even friendlier than usual, since behind Lawrence he could see Holo's form.
If Holo had not been there, the bookseller would have looked at Lawrence as an untrustworthy enemy.
"If you're looking for provisions, I've already managed to buy up quite a bit."
The right half of Le Roi's face distorted skillfully. He looked over his shoulder. "Never mind, then," he said shortly. The man with the trading company waved him off as though already fed up with Le Roi's attempts to force him to sell.
"Walking around with a lady companion and an expression like that, no merchant alive will trust you," said Le Roi to Lawrence, as though they were just passing by each other.
Lawrence's shoulders slumped.
"As I'm only too aware," he replied smoothly.
"So, what business brings you here? Don't tell me you've gotten cold feet."
In the world of credit and trust, sudden changes of heart were avoided above all else. Outright failure was far and away more preferable.
"No."
"Well, what, then?"
"Something's come up rather suddenly, I'm afraid. I won't be able to go to Kieschen."
They left the shop and walked alongside Le Roi, making for a less crowded part of the street. They passed around Holo, who let a bit of distance open between her and the two men before following.
"Are you mad?"
"My companion asked me the same thing."
Le Roi clapped his mouth shut and glared at Lawrence. But there was confusion on his face. He could not grasp whatever it was Lawrence was thinking. "Please, no games. I'm expecting a thousand silver pieces in profit from this deal."
He spoke as though he was a mercenary boasting of having killed a bear with nothing but his fists.
But that was not what Lawrence smiled at. He simply could not help but find it amusing that he was actually torn between his own pathetic jealousy and a deal of such size.
"You'll excuse me, but I won't be kicking aside an agreement we've already settled on." Le Roi's round face distorted in a grimace from one edge to the other.
Lawrence lightly cleared his throat. The cold air tickled the inside of his cheeks. "About the company in Kieschen—it's a rather large one, with a special agreement with the Delink Company, correct?"
The Delink Company would not agree to provide only dark-skinned girls unless the customer was of the highest quality. And a company able to make such demands would not be a small one.
Still cautious and unable to see where Lawrence was going with all this, Le Roi nodded slowly.
"Which means they must deal very regularly with many other companies. I'm not mistaken in thinking so, am I?"
"...I suppose not. But what of it?" Le Roi was obviously growing impatient, but Lawrence did not want to skip to the end of his explanation just yet.
He gulped and continued. "If so, I ought to be able to remain in this town and still aid you in your purchase."
The bookseller stopped in his tracks, the whole of his being working to anticipate what Lawrence was going to say next.
Lawrence looked over his shoulder to follow him, so sudden was Le Roi's stop. The sun was just then low in the sky, so he squinted when he spoke. "With money orders."
"Money orders? How? They're just a convenient way of moving money."

Output:
"Mr. Lawrence. I have no idea what you're trying to say."
Curiosity killed the cat. Once he knew, he would be unable to resist getting involved—no matter how dirty the trick.
Lawrence turned back to Le Roi. "We'll issue multiple money orders to the company in question from many others."
"Huh?"
"Each for maybe a few dozen silvers. Or perhaps a hundred or two hundred." Lawrence was impressed with the smile he managed. After all, the sort of brute-force method he was describing was something only the wealthiest merchants could get away with.
"We'll change all the names and send all the money orders in at once. The company in Kieschen will start cashing them without worrying about the strange coincidence, but as they start running low on coin, they'll begin to get suspicious—but it will already be too late. The coin will be gone from their coffers, and the money changers will catch wind of this and hike up their exchange rates. And what will the company do then? The money orders will keep coming in, including ones from their regular customers. Which ones are the malicious ones and which are from partners they can't afford to anger? And in the midst of all this, customers and trading partners keep coming. 'Buy this, buy that, pay what you said you'd pay'...the company will be a mess."
The fat Le Roi's smooth skin normally looked like flour-dusted dough. But now it was as white as if it had been carved from rock salt.
"And that's where you come in. 'You seem to be in trouble, so I'll take these money orders off your hands. But there's a condition,' you'll say."
And of course, all the money orders Le Roi would be taking charge of would be from the Delink Company, so there would be no need for Le Roi to actually have the coin.
At that point, the outcome would be simple. It all depended on Le Roi's nerve and talent. "And that's where I'd tell them I heard they had a certain volume in their possession."
"Exactly," said Lawrence with a wide smile, every bit the clever merchant hawking his wares—though Le Roi could hardly be blamed for looking at him aghast, as though he considered Lawrence unworthy of the name "merchant" for thinking of such a despicable tactic.
But as a plan, it was sound. There were, of course, some flaws.
"I understand what you're...proposing. But...is the Delink Company willing?"
Le Roi was not worried about the damage to their credit—the Delink Company would bring in several other large companies in Lenos and send the money orders through them, and at that point, their own name would be clean as a whistle.
The problem was that a large amount of coin would be necessary to issue the money orders.
"They will be. After all, coin is awfully valuable in Lenos right now."
"Ah—!" Le Roi raised his voice.
The Delink Company would be able to make a tidy profit on the exchange rate.
"So long as there's a difference between the currency markets of Lenos and Kieschen, there's profit to be had. And fortunately for us, the value of coin in Lenos is clearly much stronger. Shall I show you the figures?"
There was a smack sound as Le Roi's hand hit his head. He groaned, but his eyes had a calculating, contemplative look in them.
Given the plan Lawrence had proposed, if the Delink Company agreed, in that moment Le Roi's acquisition of the book was assured. There would be no need for him to spend the duration of the journey to Kieschen agonizing over the uncertain future and how to exploit this or that weakness in order to get them to sell the book.
No merchant who plied the lonely road alone could underestimate such peace of mind. Le Roi himself had had to change his own plans after hauling a load of scriptures into Lenos. Such mishaps happened all too easily and were likewise easily imagined.
But with this plan, Le Roi could head out on his journey with real certainty. He looked at Lawrence like a true believer seeking to confess.
"Are you...serious about this?"
He was hooked.
Lawrence's answer was short. "Of course."


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

Input:
"Mr. Lawrence. I have no idea what you're trying to say."
Curiosity killed the cat. Once he knew, he would be unable to resist getting involved—no matter how dirty the trick.
Lawrence turned back to Le Roi. "We'll issue multiple money orders to the company in question from many others."
"Huh?"
"Each for maybe a few dozen silvers. Or perhaps a hundred or two hundred." Lawrence was impressed with the smile he managed. After all, the sort of brute-force method he was describing was something only the wealthiest merchants could get away with.
"We'll change all the names and send all the money orders in at once. The company in Kieschen will start cashing them without worrying about the strange coincidence, but as they start running low on coin, they'll begin to get suspicious—but it will already be too late. The coin will be gone from their coffers, and the money changers will catch wind of this and hike up their exchange rates. And what will the company do then? The money orders will keep coming in, including ones from their regular customers. Which ones are the malicious ones and which are from partners they can't afford to anger? And in the midst of all this, customers and trading partners keep coming. 'Buy this, buy that, pay what you said you'd pay'...the company will be a mess."
The fat Le Roi's smooth skin normally looked like flour-dusted dough. But now it was as white as if it had been carved from rock salt.
"And that's where you come in. 'You seem to be in trouble, so I'll take these money orders off your hands. But there's a condition,' you'll say."
And of course, all the money orders Le Roi would be taking charge of would be from the Delink Company, so there would be no need for Le Roi to actually have the coin.
At that point, the outcome would be simple. It all depended on Le Roi's nerve and talent. "And that's where I'd tell them I heard they had a certain volume in their possession."
"Exactly," said Lawrence with a wide smile, every bit the clever merchant hawking his wares—though Le Roi could hardly be blamed for looking at him aghast, as though he considered Lawrence unworthy of the name "merchant" for thinking of such a despicable tactic.
But as a plan, it was sound. There were, of course, some flaws.
"I understand what you're...proposing. But...is the Delink Company willing?"
Le Roi was not worried about the damage to their credit—the Delink Company would bring in several other large companies in Lenos and send the money orders through them, and at that point, their own name would be clean as a whistle.
The problem was that a large amount of coin would be necessary to issue the money orders.
"They will be. After all, coin is awfully valuable in Lenos right now."
"Ah—!" Le Roi raised his voice.
The Delink Company would be able to make a tidy profit on the exchange rate.
"So long as there's a difference between the currency markets of Lenos and Kieschen, there's profit to be had. And fortunately for us, the value of coin in Lenos is clearly much stronger. Shall I show you the figures?"
There was a smack sound as Le Roi's hand hit his head. He groaned, but his eyes had a calculating, contemplative look in them.
Given the plan Lawrence had proposed, if the Delink Company agreed, in that moment Le Roi's acquisition of the book was assured. There would be no need for him to spend the duration of the journey to Kieschen agonizing over the uncertain future and how to exploit this or that weakness in order to get them to sell the book.
No merchant who plied the lonely road alone could underestimate such peace of mind. Le Roi himself had had to change his own plans after hauling a load of scriptures into Lenos. Such mishaps happened all too easily and were likewise easily imagined.
But with this plan, Le Roi could head out on his journey with real certainty. He looked at Lawrence like a true believer seeking to confess.
"Are you...serious about this?"
He was hooked.
Lawrence's answer was short. "Of course."

Output:
They immediately headed for Delink. When there was a change in plans, it was best to declare them quickly. Yet—when preparing for a hard right turn in a swiftly moving wagon, it was best to at least lay one's body over the load.
Lawrence had naturally considered this and had been careful not to underestimate the company.
Which was why he had again brought Holo to the Delink Company. This was to prove to them his resolve—for once before he had left her there for money, only to throw the money in their faces and take her back.
When they arrived at their destination, it seemed the company's four masters were in a meeting together. When he was led into the room, they all came in to meet him.
There would be no turning back now. He could not let himself regret not making every possible effort, doing everything he could do.
The job of explaining had passed from Le Roi to Lawrence. The forcible use of money orders was more important to him, as was avoiding the trip to Kieschen.
As they listened, none of the three men, Eringin included, twitched so much as an eyebrow. Far from it—when he was finished listening, with his hands still folded upon the table, Eringin said only this: "Well, shall we take this route?"
It was Lawrence who now disbelieved his ears, despite being the one to propose the plan. He replied without thinking. "Truly?"
Eringin made a deliberately surprised face, as though to say, "Are you not the one whose proposal this is?"
"Er, of course, this was my proposal, and if you're agreed, then I'm deeply grateful. But, ah, in addition, there's one more favor I'd like to ask..."
"I assume you yourself do not wish to go to Kieschen, Mr. Lawrence."
Of course—there had been the inquiry from Philon earlier, and now Holo was with him in person. It did not take a particularly clever person to put the pieces together.
Eringin chuckled. "You may be the one to have proposed this method, Mr. Lawrence, but it's still quite consistent with our requirements. And if you're willing to do this, we've no reason to refuse. After all, we've considered it ourselves."
"Wha—"
Lawrence was not the only one whose face came up in surprise. Le Roi was stunned.
"However, no reasonable mind would come up with such an abusive technique, so even if someone did think of it, they would hardly propose it to us, or so we had concluded. Much less could we suggest it to you—you'd be instantly suspicious."
It was not at all clear whether Eringin was teasing or not. But from the ironic twist at the corner of his mouth, Lawrence decided he was telling the truth.
"But you've accumulated a bit too much age and experience to consider such crude, reckless things. Am I wrong?"
Holo was the only one at the table to laugh at Eringin's words. The slave trader faced her and smiled pleasantly.
"There aren't many ways for a man to stay young. Your companion there was an excellent decision. I mean no offense—I am being quite sincere." He looked straight at Lawrence.
Lawrence did not know how to answer, but he knew enough to politely accept the words as given.
"I daresay I understood the moment I saw your companion. Two heads are better than one, they say. There's wisdom in that."
"Though we have four heads," added one of the other masters. Evidently there were limits to how far even a man like Eringin could go alone.
"We therefore agree to your proposal. I trust you don't mind us handling the details?" It was said in a businesslike tone, to which Lawrence and Le Roi both quickly replied.
Only the Delink Company understood the connections between companies and preparation of coin necessary for this. And given the underhanded tactics they were using, even if the book was safely obtained, it would be difficult to carry it out of the town.
Lawrence and Le Roi would be leaving all those myriad details to the Delink Company. And in exchange, they would be playing the villains.
That was undoubtedly why Eringin himself had not proposed the possibility to them.


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

Input:
They immediately headed for Delink. When there was a change in plans, it was best to declare them quickly. Yet—when preparing for a hard right turn in a swiftly moving wagon, it was best to at least lay one's body over the load.
Lawrence had naturally considered this and had been careful not to underestimate the company.
Which was why he had again brought Holo to the Delink Company. This was to prove to them his resolve—for once before he had left her there for money, only to throw the money in their faces and take her back.
When they arrived at their destination, it seemed the company's four masters were in a meeting together. When he was led into the room, they all came in to meet him.
There would be no turning back now. He could not let himself regret not making every possible effort, doing everything he could do.
The job of explaining had passed from Le Roi to Lawrence. The forcible use of money orders was more important to him, as was avoiding the trip to Kieschen.
As they listened, none of the three men, Eringin included, twitched so much as an eyebrow. Far from it—when he was finished listening, with his hands still folded upon the table, Eringin said only this: "Well, shall we take this route?"
It was Lawrence who now disbelieved his ears, despite being the one to propose the plan. He replied without thinking. "Truly?"
Eringin made a deliberately surprised face, as though to say, "Are you not the one whose proposal this is?"
"Er, of course, this was my proposal, and if you're agreed, then I'm deeply grateful. But, ah, in addition, there's one more favor I'd like to ask..."
"I assume you yourself do not wish to go to Kieschen, Mr. Lawrence."
Of course—there had been the inquiry from Philon earlier, and now Holo was with him in person. It did not take a particularly clever person to put the pieces together.
Eringin chuckled. "You may be the one to have proposed this method, Mr. Lawrence, but it's still quite consistent with our requirements. And if you're willing to do this, we've no reason to refuse. After all, we've considered it ourselves."
"Wha—"
Lawrence was not the only one whose face came up in surprise. Le Roi was stunned.
"However, no reasonable mind would come up with such an abusive technique, so even if someone did think of it, they would hardly propose it to us, or so we had concluded. Much less could we suggest it to you—you'd be instantly suspicious."
It was not at all clear whether Eringin was teasing or not. But from the ironic twist at the corner of his mouth, Lawrence decided he was telling the truth.
"But you've accumulated a bit too much age and experience to consider such crude, reckless things. Am I wrong?"
Holo was the only one at the table to laugh at Eringin's words. The slave trader faced her and smiled pleasantly.
"There aren't many ways for a man to stay young. Your companion there was an excellent decision. I mean no offense—I am being quite sincere." He looked straight at Lawrence.
Lawrence did not know how to answer, but he knew enough to politely accept the words as given.
"I daresay I understood the moment I saw your companion. Two heads are better than one, they say. There's wisdom in that."
"Though we have four heads," added one of the other masters. Evidently there were limits to how far even a man like Eringin could go alone.
"We therefore agree to your proposal. I trust you don't mind us handling the details?" It was said in a businesslike tone, to which Lawrence and Le Roi both quickly replied.
Only the Delink Company understood the connections between companies and preparation of coin necessary for this. And given the underhanded tactics they were using, even if the book was safely obtained, it would be difficult to carry it out of the town.
Lawrence and Le Roi would be leaving all those myriad details to the Delink Company. And in exchange, they would be playing the villains.
That was undoubtedly why Eringin himself had not proposed the possibility to them.

Output:
They all stood and shook hands, and thus sealed the new agreement.
For the men of the Delink Company, the shaking of hands came before the signing of the contract—for truly, their business was closer to Philon's world than to anything else.
"Now then, may God grant us success." With those words, the meeting was closed.
Le Roi looked to Lawrence, a strained smile on his face. "We've really done it now," he seemed to say.
Lawrence found himself wanting to echo the sentiment. With this, he no longer had to go to Kieschen, and Le Roi alone would take on the role of the villain.
And the price would have to be paid.
"About the fee you promised," said Lawrence as they exited the room into a hallway so quiet it seemed to swallow sound.
"Oh, please, please, not now."
"Later, then."
"No, that's not—that's not what I mean," said Le Roi, taking a quick look around. Eringin was still conferring with his colleagues in the meeting room and had yet to emerge. A short distance away there was a single smart-looking boy standing next to the door he had just closed.
"But—"
"We can talk about that once everything else is finished, can't we?" said Le Roi, looking up at Lawrence mischievously. "I will be playing the villain here, but we know they're going to surrender immediately. I could never content myself if I skipped paying the introduction fee on such an outrageous scheme. And more than anything else, I may not be Mr. Philon," Le Roi said, smiling an innocent, boyish smile. "But I want you to owe me a bit of a favor, eh? Are you truly a traveling merchant? I'm having a hard time believing it."
Back when he had spent his days with his eyes on the ground hoping to spot a single copper coin, Lawrence had longed to hear such words. It was a bitter irony that now that he had discovered something he valued above gold, he was hearing it all the time.
Before he answered, he glanced at Holo, who seemed to be keeping a bit of a distance, perhaps to avoid interfering with their conversation. "I'm quite a failure as a traveling merchant, I should say. So you're not wrong about that."
Le Roi grinned, but there was not so much as a trace of a smile from Holo. Perhaps that was because her own plan had been so quickly kicked aside, or perhaps it was the revelation of Lawrence's jealousy of her pack mate in Yoitsu.
But she did not seem angry so much as utterly at a loss. He was certain that if he asked her if this was so, he would receive an affirmative answer via her thrown fist.
"But still, Mr. Lawrence. Worry yourself not. Forcing people to do something they loathe with a smile on my face is my nature," said Le Roi.
Frustratingly, it was these words that Holo finally smiled at under her hood.
Le Roi had been doing just that when they had first met him at Philon's shop. Prick an opponent's conscience, and one could make them do whatever they wished.
"So this sort of thing is right in my wheelhouse. And the bigger the prey, the greater the feeling of accomplishment, eh?"
Elsa had been exactly right about Le Roi. His avarice made him trustworthy.
Lawrence nodded. "I look forward to seeing your results," he replied, and left it at that.
***
When they returned to Philon's shop, there were piles of eel roasted and waiting for them. When informed of this, Philon was even more overjoyed than Holo—and he had a suggestion.
"We'll need some strong wine, then! The eels from the river here go best with a good strong wine. And we have to celebrate the execution—or amendment, I suppose—of our contract!"
Lawrence answered Le Roi's joke with a wry smile. "Mr. Philon and the others will be there as well. We'll need enough for..."
"Oh, I'll buy. But in exchange, pitch in something nice from your wagon bed, eh?" Le Roi seemed to have given up trying to buy anything in Lenos.
Lawrence had no intention of turning it into a bargaining point, but he decided to let himself go along with Le Roi's suggestion. "I'll leave it to you, then."