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

Input:
But Lawrence could not deny that hearing and seeing were very different things, as the feeling he got on first setting foot in the marketplace was similar to the impression he had upon first seeing the Jean Company.
Goods were not piled high the way they were in markets that were only open a few days out of the year, and there were neither people visiting for business, nor hawkers trying to pry loose coins from the travelers who were stopping in the market midway through their journeys.
The marketplace was choked with crowds, but a close inspection of the shops that were lined up revealed that establishments with actual goods on display were few. Instead, they merely hung signs for goods in amounts far exceeding what someone would need in their daily lives, and without speaking to the shopkeeper, no samples were shown.
Lawrence had wanted to try some foreign food, but the marketplace was so crowded that no space for friendly drinking and relaxation could exist. For drink, there were only a few shops selling ale and wine in bulk.
Business required an atmosphere of excitement, of vigor—not confusion and violence.
For that reason, the number of taverns was controlled, and the sights of soldiers on guard with arms on their belts were not rare.
All this meant that there were a limited number of places for Lawrence to go, which any clever person would have realized after a quick circuit through the crowded marketplace.
Instead of Lawrence finding his companion, then, it was more accurate to say that the merchant was found by her.
Reasoning that Holo and Col would be amusing themselves in their way, after having his fill of watching the town's movers and shakers perform their little farce, Lawrence arrived at a first-floor tavern in search of Holo.
Just as he was deciding whether or not to open the door, a voice called out to him from above.
"Come, you."
Lawrence did not reply but pushed the tavern's door open in a long-suffering manner.
The words that he uttered immediately upon entering the small second-floor room, containing the source of the voice that so blithely called out to him, were not entirely sarcastic. "You're certainly living it up."
"Am I? We've but used the silver coin you gave us."
There was a table and chair next to the window, but Holo sat on the windowsill, drinking.
Though she was clearly visible from the street outside, her ears and tail were exposed to the world. She was either drunk or confident that she would not be recognized.
"Using a whole trenni on wine without a single hesitation is simply...well, I'll have to explain it to you sooner or later." Lawrence picked up a small cask that had been left on the floor, empty, and took a whiff, sighing.
Having a discerning palate while also being a big eater and drinker was a bad combination.
"Where's Col?"
There were plates that had clearly once held some kind of meat dish on the table, so perhaps he'd been sent out to buy more.
"Just what you're thinking." Evidently the wine was keeping Holo warm, as she seemed to find the cold air that came through the window quite pleasant.
"Honestly...don't drive him too hard now."
Lawrence picked up the wine cask that was on the table and sat on the little bed with which the small room had been provided.
It was a poorly made bed to be sure, but to those used to traveling like livestock in the cramped conditions of a ship, it was as fine as any royal canopy bed.
Of course, if relaxing in a room like this with a cup of wine in one hand was all most people needed to feel better once they were released onto dry land after being packed into a ship's hold, then there'd be no need for the Church's sermons.
Holo had probably rented the room without knowing any of this, and once she did become aware of it, she seemed vaguely uncomfortable.
"So, did you hear anything new?" she asked while facing out, her head cocked against the windowpane and her eyes closed, the breeze caressing her cheek.

Output:
A closer look revealed that her ears were minutely twitching in time to the sound, so it had to be the former.
"Does it look like I did?" Lawrence took a drink of the sweet wine, which was perfectly suited for relaxation.
"Aye. You seem pleased."
Though her eyes were still closed, it was as though she could still see right through him.
Lawrence rubbed his face and smiled sheepishly. "Pleased?"
Though he was confident he had erased all traces of his conversation with Eve from his expression, Holo's reluctantly opened eyes had a certain mean smile in them. "You're a century too young to try lying to me."
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if she had somehow overheard his conversation at the spring all the way from here but quickly realized that was not the case.
It was a bluff.
Lawrence put his hand to his forehead with a sigh in front of Holo, whose tail swished happily.
"Well, 'tis true I took notice of your pleased face. If you're tripped up by such a ruse, you've much to learn yet."
"...I'll keep that in mind."
"'Tis doubtful whether you'll be able to fit it in that wee mind of yours," Holo said impishly, ducking her head and grinning.
"...I see. Anyway, it's not quite true that I'm pleased. To be honest, it's the sort of story that makes me want strong wine rather than sweet."
"Aye?" Holo uncrossed her legs and stood. She was slightly unsteady. The wine was probably catching up to her. "Ho...'tis a bit cold," she said, sitting next to Lawrence and leaning against him.
Lawrence found himself thinking of the many travelers who found themselves in a similar position after being released from their harsh sea voyages and took what solace they could in a brief tryst.
But this was Holo.
She brought her feet up and turned her back to Lawrence, leaning against him and embracing her own tail.
Lawrence felt only a small twinge of disappointment—which was probably Holo's plan.
"So, of what tale did you hear tell?"
In contrast to Lawrence's very much-occupied mind, Holo was as she always was.
If he kept dwelling on this, she'd make a fool of him.
Lawrence exhaled slightly and answered, "The dark side of this town, I suppose."
"Oh, aye?"
"Simply put, it's a matter of debt and payment, but the amount is rather enormous."
Holo gulped down her wine as though it were the morning's first water.
It was sweet enough that it could be drunk that way, but she probably should have stopped.
Thinking as much, Lawrence reached for the small cask she was holding, when—
"Have you any notion of how many words I just swallowed with this wine?"
As it was, after Lawrence reached over, Holo was beneath his arm.
And suddenly, she was a wolf baring her fangs.
"If 'twas talk of money that was none of your concern, you ought to have been wagging your tail in delight. But you weren't—why, I wonder?"
Holo took another swig of wine and belched.
She then pushed the wine cask into Lawrence's still-outstretched hand.
"So, what did you discuss with that vixen?"
Evidently it was impossible to hide anything from Holo.
Lawrence grasped the cask and brought it to his own mouth, cursing his luck immediately thereafter.
Under his arm, Holo grinned.
The cask contained not wine, but goat's milk with honey—probably for Col.
If she had gone to the trouble of laying such a careful trap, he probably could have just told her the truth without rousing her anger.
Lawrence slowly opened his mouth. "...Eve, who so thoroughly got the best of us before, is being treated like a mere child here."
"Hmph."
"The town's powers that be are using her as a scapegoat. I had to tip my hat to her exploits in Lenos and on the Roam River, but here she's just a whipping boy. And it's just..."
Lawrence was worried he would be risking Holo's ire if he continued, but if he started hiding his true feelings after having gotten this far, she would surely be angrier still.
He finished with a single word.
"...Sad."
Holo said nothing and did not return his gaze.


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

Input:
A closer look revealed that her ears were minutely twitching in time to the sound, so it had to be the former.
"Does it look like I did?" Lawrence took a drink of the sweet wine, which was perfectly suited for relaxation.
"Aye. You seem pleased."
Though her eyes were still closed, it was as though she could still see right through him.
Lawrence rubbed his face and smiled sheepishly. "Pleased?"
Though he was confident he had erased all traces of his conversation with Eve from his expression, Holo's reluctantly opened eyes had a certain mean smile in them. "You're a century too young to try lying to me."
For a moment, Lawrence wondered if she had somehow overheard his conversation at the spring all the way from here but quickly realized that was not the case.
It was a bluff.
Lawrence put his hand to his forehead with a sigh in front of Holo, whose tail swished happily.
"Well, 'tis true I took notice of your pleased face. If you're tripped up by such a ruse, you've much to learn yet."
"...I'll keep that in mind."
"'Tis doubtful whether you'll be able to fit it in that wee mind of yours," Holo said impishly, ducking her head and grinning.
"...I see. Anyway, it's not quite true that I'm pleased. To be honest, it's the sort of story that makes me want strong wine rather than sweet."
"Aye?" Holo uncrossed her legs and stood. She was slightly unsteady. The wine was probably catching up to her. "Ho...'tis a bit cold," she said, sitting next to Lawrence and leaning against him.
Lawrence found himself thinking of the many travelers who found themselves in a similar position after being released from their harsh sea voyages and took what solace they could in a brief tryst.
But this was Holo.
She brought her feet up and turned her back to Lawrence, leaning against him and embracing her own tail.
Lawrence felt only a small twinge of disappointment—which was probably Holo's plan.
"So, of what tale did you hear tell?"
In contrast to Lawrence's very much-occupied mind, Holo was as she always was.
If he kept dwelling on this, she'd make a fool of him.
Lawrence exhaled slightly and answered, "The dark side of this town, I suppose."
"Oh, aye?"
"Simply put, it's a matter of debt and payment, but the amount is rather enormous."
Holo gulped down her wine as though it were the morning's first water.
It was sweet enough that it could be drunk that way, but she probably should have stopped.
Thinking as much, Lawrence reached for the small cask she was holding, when—
"Have you any notion of how many words I just swallowed with this wine?"
As it was, after Lawrence reached over, Holo was beneath his arm.
And suddenly, she was a wolf baring her fangs.
"If 'twas talk of money that was none of your concern, you ought to have been wagging your tail in delight. But you weren't—why, I wonder?"
Holo took another swig of wine and belched.
She then pushed the wine cask into Lawrence's still-outstretched hand.
"So, what did you discuss with that vixen?"
Evidently it was impossible to hide anything from Holo.
Lawrence grasped the cask and brought it to his own mouth, cursing his luck immediately thereafter.
Under his arm, Holo grinned.
The cask contained not wine, but goat's milk with honey—probably for Col.
If she had gone to the trouble of laying such a careful trap, he probably could have just told her the truth without rousing her anger.
Lawrence slowly opened his mouth. "...Eve, who so thoroughly got the best of us before, is being treated like a mere child here."
"Hmph."
"The town's powers that be are using her as a scapegoat. I had to tip my hat to her exploits in Lenos and on the Roam River, but here she's just a whipping boy. And it's just..."
Lawrence was worried he would be risking Holo's ire if he continued, but if he started hiding his true feelings after having gotten this far, she would surely be angrier still.
He finished with a single word.
"...Sad."
Holo said nothing and did not return his gaze.

Output:
"Things happen even to a merchant like Eve. So what does that mean for me, over whom she triumphed so thoroughly? I can't help but wonder. Don't you want people who best you...to go on to further success?"
Lawrence knew that there was always a bigger fish, and he was too old to believe that he was somehow an exception to the ways of the world. He had not complained like this in many years.
However, that was not because he had somehow become stronger with age.
It was because he had learned the reality that, during the long, lonely journeys of a traveling merchant, there would be no one by his side to cheer him up when he indulged in worry and sadness.
But now—
Lawrence smiled wryly.
She might roll her eyes or show him contempt, but at least he could call it a reaction of some kind.
It was enough—enough for him to face what he had ignored for so long and to move forward.
"Listen here, you," said Holo.
"Hmm?"
After a moment of silence, she looked up. "Listening to you talk made me mad enough for two."
"...I see."
"But now looking at your face, I'm thrice angry."
"Well, you eat enough for five, so you've got two left to go," joked Lawrence, and Holo elbowed him in the ribs and sat up.
"The first is that by your reasoning, I'm a pathetic fool for being your companion."
That made sense, so Lawrence stayed silent.
"The second is because only a pup would despair at such a foolish notion."
"I won't argue."
"And as for the last—" Holo knelt on the bed, her hands on her hips as she looked down at Lawrence.
She wore a displeased expression, but he wondered why it was that he detected a trace of foolishness there as well.
He soon realized that it was not his imagination.
"...To see you turn tail and behave in a manner so unbecoming a full-grown male, when on your face..."
"...My face?" Lawrence replied, which Holo nodded at after a short hesitation.
"You speak of such weakness, and yet"—Holo looked away—"your face says you could go off on your own at any moment."
Lawrence knew he could not laugh.
But by the time the thought came to him, it was too late, and Holo—whose cheeks were flushed with something besides wine—bared her teeth, her ears standing up.
Lawrence calmed himself and replied, "But if I looked as though I couldn't continue on alone, you'd rail at me without mercy, would you not?"
Holo looked displeased.
And yet, after growling bitterly for a while, she sat down with a nod.
Her tail wagged grandly to and fro, and she sighed in irritation. "Naturally, I would. I'd rail at you, toy with you, tease you, and when you still followed me, I'd be entirely delighted."
"I'd...just as soon avoid that."
"Fool," Holo said.
Lawrence chose that moment to pull his hand back, and soft as a cotton ball, she fell toward him.
Of course, he knew what she was angry about.
In his arms, she pouted, sullen.
"Do you want me to say I was in the wrong?"
"You are ever in the wrong."
***
Holo was Lawrence's traveling companion, and Lawrence was Holo's.
It was not one or the other—the ideal was for each of them to support the other.
Lawrence was not always the one making Holo angry, nor was Holo always the angry one.
Strange though it was to say, Lawrence needed to find the courage to be a weakling.
To admit that he needed her support.
Even if she cursed him for it.
"Still, don't you think it's strange?"
"Aye?" inquired Holo in his arms, not looking up.
"If that's all true, why am I the one who ends up comforting you?"
Holo's ears flicked up, tickling Lawrence's cheek.
She looked up, a delighted malice in her eyes, and spoke. "Because 'tis my particular privilege, that is why."
"Ugh...still, I suppose that's how I like you, so it's my own fault."
"Heh," Holo giggled, nestling in closer.
But Lawrence could guess where this was going.
"Hey, are you going to use Col to tease me...again...?" His words trailed off suddenly.


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

Input:
"Things happen even to a merchant like Eve. So what does that mean for me, over whom she triumphed so thoroughly? I can't help but wonder. Don't you want people who best you...to go on to further success?"
Lawrence knew that there was always a bigger fish, and he was too old to believe that he was somehow an exception to the ways of the world. He had not complained like this in many years.
However, that was not because he had somehow become stronger with age.
It was because he had learned the reality that, during the long, lonely journeys of a traveling merchant, there would be no one by his side to cheer him up when he indulged in worry and sadness.
But now—
Lawrence smiled wryly.
She might roll her eyes or show him contempt, but at least he could call it a reaction of some kind.
It was enough—enough for him to face what he had ignored for so long and to move forward.
"Listen here, you," said Holo.
"Hmm?"
After a moment of silence, she looked up. "Listening to you talk made me mad enough for two."
"...I see."
"But now looking at your face, I'm thrice angry."
"Well, you eat enough for five, so you've got two left to go," joked Lawrence, and Holo elbowed him in the ribs and sat up.
"The first is that by your reasoning, I'm a pathetic fool for being your companion."
That made sense, so Lawrence stayed silent.
"The second is because only a pup would despair at such a foolish notion."
"I won't argue."
"And as for the last—" Holo knelt on the bed, her hands on her hips as she looked down at Lawrence.
She wore a displeased expression, but he wondered why it was that he detected a trace of foolishness there as well.
He soon realized that it was not his imagination.
"...To see you turn tail and behave in a manner so unbecoming a full-grown male, when on your face..."
"...My face?" Lawrence replied, which Holo nodded at after a short hesitation.
"You speak of such weakness, and yet"—Holo looked away—"your face says you could go off on your own at any moment."
Lawrence knew he could not laugh.
But by the time the thought came to him, it was too late, and Holo—whose cheeks were flushed with something besides wine—bared her teeth, her ears standing up.
Lawrence calmed himself and replied, "But if I looked as though I couldn't continue on alone, you'd rail at me without mercy, would you not?"
Holo looked displeased.
And yet, after growling bitterly for a while, she sat down with a nod.
Her tail wagged grandly to and fro, and she sighed in irritation. "Naturally, I would. I'd rail at you, toy with you, tease you, and when you still followed me, I'd be entirely delighted."
"I'd...just as soon avoid that."
"Fool," Holo said.
Lawrence chose that moment to pull his hand back, and soft as a cotton ball, she fell toward him.
Of course, he knew what she was angry about.
In his arms, she pouted, sullen.
"Do you want me to say I was in the wrong?"
"You are ever in the wrong."
***
Holo was Lawrence's traveling companion, and Lawrence was Holo's.
It was not one or the other—the ideal was for each of them to support the other.
Lawrence was not always the one making Holo angry, nor was Holo always the angry one.
Strange though it was to say, Lawrence needed to find the courage to be a weakling.
To admit that he needed her support.
Even if she cursed him for it.
"Still, don't you think it's strange?"
"Aye?" inquired Holo in his arms, not looking up.
"If that's all true, why am I the one who ends up comforting you?"
Holo's ears flicked up, tickling Lawrence's cheek.
She looked up, a delighted malice in her eyes, and spoke. "Because 'tis my particular privilege, that is why."
"Ugh...still, I suppose that's how I like you, so it's my own fault."
"Heh," Holo giggled, nestling in closer.
But Lawrence could guess where this was going.
"Hey, are you going to use Col to tease me...again...?" His words trailed off suddenly.

Output:
Even when confessing her weakness, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu did so in grand form, Lawrence thought.
Regardless of the inappropriateness of the notion, he couldn't help thinking it.
He respectfully stroked her small head.
"You know that I'm a coward, don't you? I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, terrified. So don't worry on that count," said Lawrence, and Holo buried her face in his chest as if to wipe her tears, shaking her head.
"I hate it!"
He had to respect her, persisting in her selfishness even now.
Lawrence smiled sadly and scratched the base of Holo's ears. "Whenever I decide something, I consult with you. That's what you mean, isn't it?"
"Despite your offering to me, I hate that things are changed left and right without my thoughts being solicited."
Perhaps she had chosen a familiar example purposely, but if that was the case, then it meant Lawrence's feelings for Holo were essentially alms.
"So my feelings are an offering?"
"I should think one is necessary for prayer."
Holo's ears twitched, and Lawrence smiled.
"A prayer for what?" he asked.
"For the boy Col to come."
It was frustrating, but he could hardly deny it.
Holo smiled and closed her eyes.
This had to be something very important to her for Holo to state her true feelings so plainly.
The most frustrating part of business was having something decided above one's head.
During the long months and years Holo had spent as a village's harvest god, that was how she had felt.
When the Moon-Hunting Bear came to her homelands, she had not even heard about it.
Though it concerned her, it was decided without her knowledge—the definition of isolation.
And she was tired of it.
This was probably something Lawrence needed to clearly understand, but if she waited for him to do so, there was no telling how long it would take.
He was sure that was the answer he would receive were he to ask.
"Still, 'tis quite a knack being able to pick the right time to lay a trap for you. 'Tis pleasant sometimes."
Beside him, Holo smiled nastily. Simultaneously, her wolf ears turned toward the hall as if detecting prey.
The meaning was plain enough, but it seemed the wisewolf was not such a boring hunter as to lay the same trap twice.
"Don't think you'll always be able to trick me."
Holo showed her fangs in a wordless smile, moving away from Lawrence to sit again upon the windowsill.
Though the sweet taste of honey lingered in Lawrence's mouth, he could not restrain the bitter smile that rose at being so easily discarded.
However, if he were to look at the door from which there came a perfectly timed knock, he would easily fall into Holo's trap.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!"
The door opened to reveal—of course—Col.
"Aye, and wait we did. Where's the wine?"
"Er, it's right—oh, there's enough for you, too, Mr. Lawrence."
"You hardly needed to buy so much! Ah, 'tis such a waste."
Lawrence couldn't help but smile at Holo and Col's exchange.
Of course, the biggest reason for his smile was the realization that for someone who could change her expressions and moods so easily, laying a trap for the likes of the boy was child's play.
It was truly terrifying.
So terrifying, in fact, that Lawrence chose a piece of salty, spicy jerky, and bit into it voraciously.
"So, is there anything we can use in all this talk you overheard?" Holo had no words of thanks for Col, despite having used him as her errand boy, and spoke to Lawrence instead.
Of course, there was also the fact that he was rather impressed.
Col had skillfully used his battered cloak as a bag, which he was able to sling over his shoulder. Holo may have maliciously ordered him to go buy large amounts of food and wine, but he had carried out the charge without difficulty.
Probably out of frustration, Holo did not deign to thank him for his efforts.
In any case, Col was such a talented lad that were he to become a merchant's apprentice, a bidding war would no doubt ensue.


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

Input:
Even when confessing her weakness, the Wisewolf of Yoitsu did so in grand form, Lawrence thought.
Regardless of the inappropriateness of the notion, he couldn't help thinking it.
He respectfully stroked her small head.
"You know that I'm a coward, don't you? I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, terrified. So don't worry on that count," said Lawrence, and Holo buried her face in his chest as if to wipe her tears, shaking her head.
"I hate it!"
He had to respect her, persisting in her selfishness even now.
Lawrence smiled sadly and scratched the base of Holo's ears. "Whenever I decide something, I consult with you. That's what you mean, isn't it?"
"Despite your offering to me, I hate that things are changed left and right without my thoughts being solicited."
Perhaps she had chosen a familiar example purposely, but if that was the case, then it meant Lawrence's feelings for Holo were essentially alms.
"So my feelings are an offering?"
"I should think one is necessary for prayer."
Holo's ears twitched, and Lawrence smiled.
"A prayer for what?" he asked.
"For the boy Col to come."
It was frustrating, but he could hardly deny it.
Holo smiled and closed her eyes.
This had to be something very important to her for Holo to state her true feelings so plainly.
The most frustrating part of business was having something decided above one's head.
During the long months and years Holo had spent as a village's harvest god, that was how she had felt.
When the Moon-Hunting Bear came to her homelands, she had not even heard about it.
Though it concerned her, it was decided without her knowledge—the definition of isolation.
And she was tired of it.
This was probably something Lawrence needed to clearly understand, but if she waited for him to do so, there was no telling how long it would take.
He was sure that was the answer he would receive were he to ask.
"Still, 'tis quite a knack being able to pick the right time to lay a trap for you. 'Tis pleasant sometimes."
Beside him, Holo smiled nastily. Simultaneously, her wolf ears turned toward the hall as if detecting prey.
The meaning was plain enough, but it seemed the wisewolf was not such a boring hunter as to lay the same trap twice.
"Don't think you'll always be able to trick me."
Holo showed her fangs in a wordless smile, moving away from Lawrence to sit again upon the windowsill.
Though the sweet taste of honey lingered in Lawrence's mouth, he could not restrain the bitter smile that rose at being so easily discarded.
However, if he were to look at the door from which there came a perfectly timed knock, he would easily fall into Holo's trap.
"Sorry to keep you waiting!"
The door opened to reveal—of course—Col.
"Aye, and wait we did. Where's the wine?"
"Er, it's right—oh, there's enough for you, too, Mr. Lawrence."
"You hardly needed to buy so much! Ah, 'tis such a waste."
Lawrence couldn't help but smile at Holo and Col's exchange.
Of course, the biggest reason for his smile was the realization that for someone who could change her expressions and moods so easily, laying a trap for the likes of the boy was child's play.
It was truly terrifying.
So terrifying, in fact, that Lawrence chose a piece of salty, spicy jerky, and bit into it voraciously.
"So, is there anything we can use in all this talk you overheard?" Holo had no words of thanks for Col, despite having used him as her errand boy, and spoke to Lawrence instead.
Of course, there was also the fact that he was rather impressed.
Col had skillfully used his battered cloak as a bag, which he was able to sling over his shoulder. Holo may have maliciously ordered him to go buy large amounts of food and wine, but he had carried out the charge without difficulty.
Probably out of frustration, Holo did not deign to thank him for his efforts.
In any case, Col was such a talented lad that were he to become a merchant's apprentice, a bidding war would no doubt ensue.

Output:
"I'm listening."
"I wonder."
"It's probably worth investigating. It seems the bigwigs of the north side borrowed the money to build the marketplace, and they're keen to pay it off. And it's gotten so bad that over at the Jean Company, where we were mistaken for powerful, crafty merchants, they've got a mule yawning in front of the eaves ready to go, and they're not even gathering their chickens' eggs."
Holo chewed a cooked shellfish.
In her place, Col spoke up. "His profits are being snatched away?"
"Yes. The Jean Company deals exclusively with copper from the Roam River region, but the profits are being stolen away by the north-side bigwigs. Which means—"
Holo washed down the shellfish with a slug of wine, then burped. "—Which means 'tis no surprise he went so angrily in for all this talk of absurd profit."
"Yes, well, that too. Also—" Lawrence brought a piece of fried, silver-scaled fish whose name he did not know to his mouth.
The last time he had given a trenni to Holo, she had spent the entire sum on apples.
She seemed as ignorant of the word restraint as ever.
"—Reynolds seemed slightly suspicious."
"Mm. Well, he is surely hiding something."
Col looked up at Lawrence's and Holo's faces in surprise. "Huh?"
"It's not too hard to guess at what. If he were using the story of the wolf remains to hide something, then—?"
"Hiding his ears without hiding his tail, eh?" Holo analogized as she flicked both.
But their opponent was a merchant.
"There's a saying—'A fearsome hawk is one that hides its talons.' I think what he was hiding was not his ears, but his horns."
"Also, when you were parting, he gave you quite the fierce handshake, did he not?"
So she had been watching that.
Lawrence nodded, picking a fish scale out of his teeth. "When he told me to give his regards to Eve Bolan, he meant either her money, her business skill, or her connections."
"That vixen just spent all her money on those furs. We might not know the state of her coin purse, aye, but surely there are other places from which he would borrow money," said Holo, directing a teasing smile at Lawrence.
She was referring to Lawrence's frantic attempts to borrow money when he himself had been on the verge of ruin.
"...Which leaves either her talent or her connections. Either way, aren't the actors and the stage a little too perfectly matched?"
Holo gave only a thin smile and looked lazily outside.
Lawrence, for his part, ate steadily from the food on the table while Col, cask held between his hands, looked back and forth between his companions.
It was not as though they were quarreling.
Col was a bright lad.
While he didn't usually think to doubt people, when that possibility was pointed out to him, he had a good enough head to think it through.
Essentially, from their individual impressions, Holo and Lawrence had each drawn their own sketches.
Col heard the fragments and wanted to know what sort of picture they added up to.
"E-excuse me!" Col raised his hand and stood.
No matter how strict and harsh the scholar, he surely could not fail to find this dedication charming.
It was enough to make Lawrence wonder if jealous classmates had been the ones to silence Col.
"Could...could Reynolds still be looking for the remains even now?"
Holo did not reply.
But having taken classes with strict, difficult professors, Col was undeterred. "If what Reynolds is hiding is the fact that he's still searching for the remains, then he should have politely sent us on our way. So did he welcome us in because of Eve's letter? If so, that would mean the reason he wanted your handshake when we were leaving was..."
Col thought.
He had no knowledge of how much talent as a merchant Eve possessed.
Which meant he would draw conclusions based on his various impressions.
How would this scene appear to Col's eye?
"The reason is because he wants your help in searching for the wolf remains, isn't it?"
This was just another question, and yet the impression it carried was very different.


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

Input:
"I'm listening."
"I wonder."
"It's probably worth investigating. It seems the bigwigs of the north side borrowed the money to build the marketplace, and they're keen to pay it off. And it's gotten so bad that over at the Jean Company, where we were mistaken for powerful, crafty merchants, they've got a mule yawning in front of the eaves ready to go, and they're not even gathering their chickens' eggs."
Holo chewed a cooked shellfish.
In her place, Col spoke up. "His profits are being snatched away?"
"Yes. The Jean Company deals exclusively with copper from the Roam River region, but the profits are being stolen away by the north-side bigwigs. Which means—"
Holo washed down the shellfish with a slug of wine, then burped. "—Which means 'tis no surprise he went so angrily in for all this talk of absurd profit."
"Yes, well, that too. Also—" Lawrence brought a piece of fried, silver-scaled fish whose name he did not know to his mouth.
The last time he had given a trenni to Holo, she had spent the entire sum on apples.
She seemed as ignorant of the word restraint as ever.
"—Reynolds seemed slightly suspicious."
"Mm. Well, he is surely hiding something."
Col looked up at Lawrence's and Holo's faces in surprise. "Huh?"
"It's not too hard to guess at what. If he were using the story of the wolf remains to hide something, then—?"
"Hiding his ears without hiding his tail, eh?" Holo analogized as she flicked both.
But their opponent was a merchant.
"There's a saying—'A fearsome hawk is one that hides its talons.' I think what he was hiding was not his ears, but his horns."
"Also, when you were parting, he gave you quite the fierce handshake, did he not?"
So she had been watching that.
Lawrence nodded, picking a fish scale out of his teeth. "When he told me to give his regards to Eve Bolan, he meant either her money, her business skill, or her connections."
"That vixen just spent all her money on those furs. We might not know the state of her coin purse, aye, but surely there are other places from which he would borrow money," said Holo, directing a teasing smile at Lawrence.
She was referring to Lawrence's frantic attempts to borrow money when he himself had been on the verge of ruin.
"...Which leaves either her talent or her connections. Either way, aren't the actors and the stage a little too perfectly matched?"
Holo gave only a thin smile and looked lazily outside.
Lawrence, for his part, ate steadily from the food on the table while Col, cask held between his hands, looked back and forth between his companions.
It was not as though they were quarreling.
Col was a bright lad.
While he didn't usually think to doubt people, when that possibility was pointed out to him, he had a good enough head to think it through.
Essentially, from their individual impressions, Holo and Lawrence had each drawn their own sketches.
Col heard the fragments and wanted to know what sort of picture they added up to.
"E-excuse me!" Col raised his hand and stood.
No matter how strict and harsh the scholar, he surely could not fail to find this dedication charming.
It was enough to make Lawrence wonder if jealous classmates had been the ones to silence Col.
"Could...could Reynolds still be looking for the remains even now?"
Holo did not reply.
But having taken classes with strict, difficult professors, Col was undeterred. "If what Reynolds is hiding is the fact that he's still searching for the remains, then he should have politely sent us on our way. So did he welcome us in because of Eve's letter? If so, that would mean the reason he wanted your handshake when we were leaving was..."
Col thought.
He had no knowledge of how much talent as a merchant Eve possessed.
Which meant he would draw conclusions based on his various impressions.
How would this scene appear to Col's eye?
"The reason is because he wants your help in searching for the wolf remains, isn't it?"
This was just another question, and yet the impression it carried was very different.

Output:
Then, smiling faintly, she turned to Lawrence. "What of it?"
Lawrence waved her off as if to say, "Do you even need to ask?"
Regardless of whether or not it was the truth, it was an easy conclusion to make.
"Also, if we imagine that, then it's obvious why Eve so readily drafted a letter for us. Since this is Eve we're talking about, she would've known ahead of time that Reynolds wanted to cooperate with her in finding the remains. But since the story is what it is, she was careful, dodging our questions. Or she might not believe it to be true. Either way, Reynolds wants Eve's help badly. What's Eve thinking? She's as cunning as a wolf, so at first she probably turned him down because of the absurdity of the story, but then we appeared, and she thought, What if? But it would be unwise for her to ask Reynolds directly. So what does she do? Suddenly, some people appear right before her eyes, begging to be used."
"Aha," pronounced Holo in a voice like an old woman's, chuckling to herself.
If this interpretation was on point, it showed that Reynolds definitely thought Eve was evincing some interest in the remains.
That in turn explained the sudden change in Reynolds's attitude when Col asked if he had found the remains.
Reynolds had been surprised and dismayed—either angry at what would have been a halfhearted attempt at reconnaissance or imagining that Lawrence and company were taking their orders from Eve and acting as scouts.
They had been treated to a meal not because they had been sent by Eve, but rather because Reynolds probably thought of them as simple sheep that Eve was carefully leading about.
The obvious thing for him to do, then, would not be to engage in a lot of roundabout conversation and try to merely insinuate his true intent, but rather treat them to an easily understood meal.
So the activities at the trading company could be dismantled.
Even the most sinewy old goat could be butchered as long as one knew where to stick the knife.
"So then, what shall we do?" asked Holo in a very matter-of-fact tone.
But Lawrence got the sense that her amber eyes were tinged redder than usual.
Her anger had surely returned the instant the notion that, despite deceiving them with its poor appearance, the Jean Company was still pursuing the wolf remains began to gather real weight.
And there was no doubt that Holo was thinking, This time for certain.
This time, for certain, she wanted to engage a vexing situation with her own fangs, claws, and brains. She would not let them get away with it.
This she was surely thinking.
And so she wanted her companion Lawrence's answer.
"It's obvious..." Lawrence was about to continue when he felt another gaze upon him.
Though he was keeping his mouth tightly shut, Col's feelings seemed not terribly different from Holo's.
"We'll investigate. And if there's nothing there, that's fine."
This was not one man's merchant journey.
It was not even the journey of two.
It felt quite good to see everybody's views in alignment and thereby decide on a course of action.
He could see why the nobility competed so as to lead their knight brigades into battle.
Though doing such things too often would be tiring.
Holo had once shouldered the responsibility for an entire town, and it had turned bitter.
In the end, she was never even thanked.
He realized this was the first time he had been in this position, and that when he had first met the crying, dejected Holo, he had barely managed to improvise any comfort for her at all.
And yet he quite thoroughly thought of himself as Holo's guardian, which allowed Holo to easily trip him up.
Lawrence, who must have seemed barely older than Col to Holo, hid his smile from her.
He then took a deep breath and straightened his expression, speaking like a military commander. "Right, let me explain each of your roles."
Col looked serious, and Holo feigned seriousness, as both of them turned their ears to Lawrence's plan.
***


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

Input:
Then, smiling faintly, she turned to Lawrence. "What of it?"
Lawrence waved her off as if to say, "Do you even need to ask?"
Regardless of whether or not it was the truth, it was an easy conclusion to make.
"Also, if we imagine that, then it's obvious why Eve so readily drafted a letter for us. Since this is Eve we're talking about, she would've known ahead of time that Reynolds wanted to cooperate with her in finding the remains. But since the story is what it is, she was careful, dodging our questions. Or she might not believe it to be true. Either way, Reynolds wants Eve's help badly. What's Eve thinking? She's as cunning as a wolf, so at first she probably turned him down because of the absurdity of the story, but then we appeared, and she thought, What if? But it would be unwise for her to ask Reynolds directly. So what does she do? Suddenly, some people appear right before her eyes, begging to be used."
"Aha," pronounced Holo in a voice like an old woman's, chuckling to herself.
If this interpretation was on point, it showed that Reynolds definitely thought Eve was evincing some interest in the remains.
That in turn explained the sudden change in Reynolds's attitude when Col asked if he had found the remains.
Reynolds had been surprised and dismayed—either angry at what would have been a halfhearted attempt at reconnaissance or imagining that Lawrence and company were taking their orders from Eve and acting as scouts.
They had been treated to a meal not because they had been sent by Eve, but rather because Reynolds probably thought of them as simple sheep that Eve was carefully leading about.
The obvious thing for him to do, then, would not be to engage in a lot of roundabout conversation and try to merely insinuate his true intent, but rather treat them to an easily understood meal.
So the activities at the trading company could be dismantled.
Even the most sinewy old goat could be butchered as long as one knew where to stick the knife.
"So then, what shall we do?" asked Holo in a very matter-of-fact tone.
But Lawrence got the sense that her amber eyes were tinged redder than usual.
Her anger had surely returned the instant the notion that, despite deceiving them with its poor appearance, the Jean Company was still pursuing the wolf remains began to gather real weight.
And there was no doubt that Holo was thinking, This time for certain.
This time, for certain, she wanted to engage a vexing situation with her own fangs, claws, and brains. She would not let them get away with it.
This she was surely thinking.
And so she wanted her companion Lawrence's answer.
"It's obvious..." Lawrence was about to continue when he felt another gaze upon him.
Though he was keeping his mouth tightly shut, Col's feelings seemed not terribly different from Holo's.
"We'll investigate. And if there's nothing there, that's fine."
This was not one man's merchant journey.
It was not even the journey of two.
It felt quite good to see everybody's views in alignment and thereby decide on a course of action.
He could see why the nobility competed so as to lead their knight brigades into battle.
Though doing such things too often would be tiring.
Holo had once shouldered the responsibility for an entire town, and it had turned bitter.
In the end, she was never even thanked.
He realized this was the first time he had been in this position, and that when he had first met the crying, dejected Holo, he had barely managed to improvise any comfort for her at all.
And yet he quite thoroughly thought of himself as Holo's guardian, which allowed Holo to easily trip him up.
Lawrence, who must have seemed barely older than Col to Holo, hid his smile from her.
He then took a deep breath and straightened his expression, speaking like a military commander. "Right, let me explain each of your roles."
Col looked serious, and Holo feigned seriousness, as both of them turned their ears to Lawrence's plan.
***

Output:
Col stopped to look up at Lawrence, and Holo mercilessly took the opportunity to slam her foot down on Col's.
"I win!" she exclaimed proudly while Col humbly admitted, "I suppose I lost," making it difficult to tell exactly who was the child.
Of course, it is said the older one gets, the more one returns to childhood, and perhaps that was not wrong.
"Now, then," said Lawrence, and Col and Holo, looking almost like twins thanks to their similar heights, both turned back to him. "You've memorized your roles, then?"
"Yes!"
"Aye."
Col's answer was the swifter.
Lawrence had a sudden vision of what he must have looked like as a student in the capital of learning, Aquent.
By contrast, Holo's answer was curt and rude, and she yawned loudly.
"I'm a little nervous," confessed Col.
"Don't worry. If there's one piece of advice I can give, it's that the secret to telling a lie is telling yourself that depending on how you think about it, it's actually the truth. That way you're not actually lying," Lawrence advised in response to Col's uncertain smile.
"Er...no, I'm all right. I'll make sure to gather all the stories."
The boy seemed like a young knight bracing himself for his first battle. Lawrence patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you will," he added.
To Lawrence's eye, Col would mature to match as much responsibility as he was given.
He was not a mere slate-toting, chalk-dusted boy from Aquent.
He possessed the practical skills he had managed to gather after being deceived, expelled, and forced to travel.
Lawrence said he was sure Col would perform well, and it was no lie.
"So, we'll meet again in the evening."
"Yes." Col nodded, his expression entirely different from when he had been trying to step on Holo's feet, and walked off boldly.
Though his receding form was small, it bore a certain dignity.
Lawrence barely had time to wonder what his own back would have looked like at that age when he felt a tug at his sleeve.
It was Holo, and though she was hardly a working woman trying to lure in a customer, somehow she seemed even more vicious than that.
"So, shall I be off then, too?"
"Er, yes."
Holo strode off immediately, then looked back at Lawrence, whose feet were a bit slower. "Hmm?" she queried.
She was so fond of Col, and yet when it came time to put him through hardship, she was happy to do so.
Or was it that she simply thought that highly of him?
Lawrence didn't think poorly of the boy himself, but he found it harder to trust so completely.
"Will you really be all right on your own?" Lawrence could not prevent himself from asking.
They were on their way to the landing for the ferry headed to the south side of the town.
Since their collective had the advantage of containing three people, it would have been the height of stupidity to move in a group, so they had decided to split up to gather information.
Col would be posing as a traveling beggar and head to the north side to find out what the other beggars had to say about the Jean Company.
Holo would pretend to be a nun journeying north and head for the south-side church to determine its influence in the upper regions of the Roef and Roam Rivers.
And Lawrence would make for the Rowan Trade Guild branch in the delta marketplace to see how the Jean Company's business and the wolf remains were connected.
Both Holo and Col were more capable than he was, so there was probably no need for concern.
But Holo, with her ears and tail, was the personification of pagan faith.
Despite her being the sharpest talker and thinker of all of them, Lawrence was still uneasy at the prospect of letting her go alone.
"Perhaps—perhaps I should go with you—"
Holo was a few steps ahead of Lawrence as she began walking, cutting through the crowd.
When she looked back at him, he stopped short of continuing his statement.
"So 'tis well and good for the boy Col to go off on his own, but you haven't the conviction to let me go alone?" Her amber eyes were narrowed and flashed red.


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

Input:
Col stopped to look up at Lawrence, and Holo mercilessly took the opportunity to slam her foot down on Col's.
"I win!" she exclaimed proudly while Col humbly admitted, "I suppose I lost," making it difficult to tell exactly who was the child.
Of course, it is said the older one gets, the more one returns to childhood, and perhaps that was not wrong.
"Now, then," said Lawrence, and Col and Holo, looking almost like twins thanks to their similar heights, both turned back to him. "You've memorized your roles, then?"
"Yes!"
"Aye."
Col's answer was the swifter.
Lawrence had a sudden vision of what he must have looked like as a student in the capital of learning, Aquent.
By contrast, Holo's answer was curt and rude, and she yawned loudly.
"I'm a little nervous," confessed Col.
"Don't worry. If there's one piece of advice I can give, it's that the secret to telling a lie is telling yourself that depending on how you think about it, it's actually the truth. That way you're not actually lying," Lawrence advised in response to Col's uncertain smile.
"Er...no, I'm all right. I'll make sure to gather all the stories."
The boy seemed like a young knight bracing himself for his first battle. Lawrence patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you will," he added.
To Lawrence's eye, Col would mature to match as much responsibility as he was given.
He was not a mere slate-toting, chalk-dusted boy from Aquent.
He possessed the practical skills he had managed to gather after being deceived, expelled, and forced to travel.
Lawrence said he was sure Col would perform well, and it was no lie.
"So, we'll meet again in the evening."
"Yes." Col nodded, his expression entirely different from when he had been trying to step on Holo's feet, and walked off boldly.
Though his receding form was small, it bore a certain dignity.
Lawrence barely had time to wonder what his own back would have looked like at that age when he felt a tug at his sleeve.
It was Holo, and though she was hardly a working woman trying to lure in a customer, somehow she seemed even more vicious than that.
"So, shall I be off then, too?"
"Er, yes."
Holo strode off immediately, then looked back at Lawrence, whose feet were a bit slower. "Hmm?" she queried.
She was so fond of Col, and yet when it came time to put him through hardship, she was happy to do so.
Or was it that she simply thought that highly of him?
Lawrence didn't think poorly of the boy himself, but he found it harder to trust so completely.
"Will you really be all right on your own?" Lawrence could not prevent himself from asking.
They were on their way to the landing for the ferry headed to the south side of the town.
Since their collective had the advantage of containing three people, it would have been the height of stupidity to move in a group, so they had decided to split up to gather information.
Col would be posing as a traveling beggar and head to the north side to find out what the other beggars had to say about the Jean Company.
Holo would pretend to be a nun journeying north and head for the south-side church to determine its influence in the upper regions of the Roef and Roam Rivers.
And Lawrence would make for the Rowan Trade Guild branch in the delta marketplace to see how the Jean Company's business and the wolf remains were connected.
Both Holo and Col were more capable than he was, so there was probably no need for concern.
But Holo, with her ears and tail, was the personification of pagan faith.
Despite her being the sharpest talker and thinker of all of them, Lawrence was still uneasy at the prospect of letting her go alone.
"Perhaps—perhaps I should go with you—"
Holo was a few steps ahead of Lawrence as she began walking, cutting through the crowd.
When she looked back at him, he stopped short of continuing his statement.
"So 'tis well and good for the boy Col to go off on his own, but you haven't the conviction to let me go alone?" Her amber eyes were narrowed and flashed red.

Output:
"That's not what I meant, but..."
"Aye, and what did you mean?"
Even if he could rationalize this or that aspect of his worry for Holo, at its core the concern was irrational.
But more importantly, Holo was angry.
"I'm sorry," he answered, and Holo promptly poked him in the chest.
"You fool."
***
Holo glared at him, angrier every moment, then suddenly turned away indignantly.
Lawrence rubbed the spot on his chest she had inexplicably prodded, and after a moment, Holo sighed and looked back at him. "You truly are a terribly clumsy ruler."
"Ruler?"
"A terribly clumsy one, yes," she repeated, and Lawrence scratched his head. "Firstly, I haven't the faintest notion why you wouldn't let me go alone in this situation."
As ever, Lawrence did not understand what she was talking about. "Well, I mean...just, if something were to happen..."
"Aye, and the same holds true for Col. Listen, you—"
"A-all right..." Lawrence straightened himself in response to Holo's sudden awkwardness, as if she were trying to articulate something difficult to express.
Holo turned her gaze from the riverbank back to Lawrence, and he found her countenance accusatory.
If his memory served, she was trying to hide her embarrassment over something.
"You're the general awaiting my report, are you not? And Col and I are your hands. So if you'll only put us each to hard use, you'd better hold our reins."
Lawrence could see the ferry drift into view, approaching the dock as it crossed the busy river.
At the same time, he had a vague sense of what Holo meant. "Because success and wanting me to praise you are the same?"
Holo made a pained expression and looked away. So that had to be it.
And it was probably true.
He had but to praise Holo if she were more successful than Col and console her if she failed.
But if he helped Holo with her duty, Col would be the only one praised or consoled.
She was right about that, Lawrence knew, but there was still something he did not understand—and that was the reason why Holo, whose embarrassment was no act, would tell him this.
The ferry had arrived at the pier, but owing to the crowd, they had to wait in line.
Holo looked like she was making a great effort not to let her ears and tail move about too much beneath her robe. "You wish to have a shop of your own someday, do you not? If so, you've much to learn about using others," she said.
"Ah—" Lawrence couldn't help but cover his mouth.
She was right.
If he had a shop, he would have to employ other people.
Sometimes he would need to control others, and other times he would require their loyalty.
And though Lawrence was accustomed to doing so one-on-one, when it came to larger groups of people, he had never even thought about it.
"And yet you dare to take hold of my reins?" Holo put a hand on her hip and cocked her head in mock disbelief.
Lawrence surrendered, though he kept his eye on the line, which had started to move. "That's what's so charming about me, right?" he asked with a taciturn mien, which did not appear to give Holo any great pleasure, and she replied with her head still cocked.
"Perhaps."
"Well, then, I'm counting on you."
"I can still see the worry in your face, but I shall take your words for what they're worth."
Lawrence paid the ferryman, explaining the circumstances and giving him enough for the return trip.
"Some wheat bread would be nice for dinner."
"If you succeed, yes," said Lawrence.
At this, Holo left him with a smile, and the hem of her robe whirled as she hopped aboard the ferry.
The town of Kerube was divided north from south by the river, and there was no church on the north side.
That was evidence that most pagans lived on the north side, while Church adherents were more prevalent on the south side. Historically, this evidently came from the fact that orthodox merchants tended to come up from the south and thus bought land and settled on the south side of the town.


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

Input:
"That's not what I meant, but..."
"Aye, and what did you mean?"
Even if he could rationalize this or that aspect of his worry for Holo, at its core the concern was irrational.
But more importantly, Holo was angry.
"I'm sorry," he answered, and Holo promptly poked him in the chest.
"You fool."
***
Holo glared at him, angrier every moment, then suddenly turned away indignantly.
Lawrence rubbed the spot on his chest she had inexplicably prodded, and after a moment, Holo sighed and looked back at him. "You truly are a terribly clumsy ruler."
"Ruler?"
"A terribly clumsy one, yes," she repeated, and Lawrence scratched his head. "Firstly, I haven't the faintest notion why you wouldn't let me go alone in this situation."
As ever, Lawrence did not understand what she was talking about. "Well, I mean...just, if something were to happen..."
"Aye, and the same holds true for Col. Listen, you—"
"A-all right..." Lawrence straightened himself in response to Holo's sudden awkwardness, as if she were trying to articulate something difficult to express.
Holo turned her gaze from the riverbank back to Lawrence, and he found her countenance accusatory.
If his memory served, she was trying to hide her embarrassment over something.
"You're the general awaiting my report, are you not? And Col and I are your hands. So if you'll only put us each to hard use, you'd better hold our reins."
Lawrence could see the ferry drift into view, approaching the dock as it crossed the busy river.
At the same time, he had a vague sense of what Holo meant. "Because success and wanting me to praise you are the same?"
Holo made a pained expression and looked away. So that had to be it.
And it was probably true.
He had but to praise Holo if she were more successful than Col and console her if she failed.
But if he helped Holo with her duty, Col would be the only one praised or consoled.
She was right about that, Lawrence knew, but there was still something he did not understand—and that was the reason why Holo, whose embarrassment was no act, would tell him this.
The ferry had arrived at the pier, but owing to the crowd, they had to wait in line.
Holo looked like she was making a great effort not to let her ears and tail move about too much beneath her robe. "You wish to have a shop of your own someday, do you not? If so, you've much to learn about using others," she said.
"Ah—" Lawrence couldn't help but cover his mouth.
She was right.
If he had a shop, he would have to employ other people.
Sometimes he would need to control others, and other times he would require their loyalty.
And though Lawrence was accustomed to doing so one-on-one, when it came to larger groups of people, he had never even thought about it.
"And yet you dare to take hold of my reins?" Holo put a hand on her hip and cocked her head in mock disbelief.
Lawrence surrendered, though he kept his eye on the line, which had started to move. "That's what's so charming about me, right?" he asked with a taciturn mien, which did not appear to give Holo any great pleasure, and she replied with her head still cocked.
"Perhaps."
"Well, then, I'm counting on you."
"I can still see the worry in your face, but I shall take your words for what they're worth."
Lawrence paid the ferryman, explaining the circumstances and giving him enough for the return trip.
"Some wheat bread would be nice for dinner."
"If you succeed, yes," said Lawrence.
At this, Holo left him with a smile, and the hem of her robe whirled as she hopped aboard the ferry.
The town of Kerube was divided north from south by the river, and there was no church on the north side.
That was evidence that most pagans lived on the north side, while Church adherents were more prevalent on the south side. Historically, this evidently came from the fact that orthodox merchants tended to come up from the south and thus bought land and settled on the south side of the town.

Output:
On the north side, building heights and street widths were highly varied, while on the south side they were precisely regulated, the neat rows of buildings lining the streets. Lawrence was sure there were no bored-looking mules yawning in front of loading docks on the south side.
It was hard to tell from the north side, but from the delta marketplace, he could clearly see the towering spire that the south-side church had collected sufficient tithes to build, its height all too obviously reaching for the heavens, and within it, there in the closest place in the town to God, hung a beautiful golden bell.
Dressed as a nun, Holo was apparently going to try to collect information by claiming she was returning from the south to her homeland in the north, and asking whether her town was still under pagan control. Lawrence had carefully explained to her what sorts of questions Church people were likely to ask her, but even without that advice, Holo was more than quick tongued enough to get the information they needed.
Still, she and Lawrence had always stayed together when investigating things or formulating plans in the past, and sending her off to do it alone was a strange sensation.
Lawrence would undoubtedly feel the same way when he got a shop and hired people to help him.
But then it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if, when that time came, Holo would be there.
***
Lawrence scratched his head and sighed.
If that was the sort of thing he was worried about, then perhaps she should be the one concerned about leaving him alone, he was sure she would say.
Lawrence smiled to himself, watching Holo cross the river along with all the other passengers before eventually turning his back and walking away.
His destination was the delta marketplace branch of the Rowen Trade Guild.
He was not crossing the river with Holo and visiting the main office for the simple reason that the people with whom he was acquainted were not there.
In keeping with the delta marketplace's status as a crucial trade link between the north and south sides of the town, every trade guild kept an office there to connect with traveling comrades and collect information on goods. Since buildings were regulated, guilds could not use them to compete with one another the way they did in town, but they were still constructed to best show off each guild's specialties. Lawrence could look at each one and guess which trade guild it represented.
Dozens or hundreds of merchants were attached to each trade house, all desperately competing with one another, and when Lawrence thought of this, it seemed a wonder to him.
There was that much commerce in the world, and it had yet to run dry.
Lawrence knocked on the door of his familiar-looking guild, feeling as if he were knocking on the cabin door of a small ship afloat upon a very large sea.
"Oh, now, there's a rare face." There were several merchants on the first floor of the guild house, all of them dressed for travel.
"It's been too long, Kieman."
Within the room and directly opposite the door sat the master of the branch. The man, Kieman, with his beautiful blond hair, had been born to trade.
His father was a prominent trader in Kerube, and thanks to that, Kieman had seen more goods from distant lands than anyone else, despite never having traveled far. His features were easily fine enough to have been a bard's, and unlike the other merchants on the house's first floor, who were trading wine and gossip, he bore not a single callus on his hands.
Kieman was the prototypical rich man's son, but while it seemed that the road-dusted merchants would inevitably hate him, their trust in him was actually rather strong.
Although he was perhaps two years younger than Lawrence, unlike Lawrence, he made his living within a town.
Those who did business in a town had no need to seek skills like being able to walk all day and night without collapsing or how to do business with someone whose language they did not speak.


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

Input:
On the north side, building heights and street widths were highly varied, while on the south side they were precisely regulated, the neat rows of buildings lining the streets. Lawrence was sure there were no bored-looking mules yawning in front of loading docks on the south side.
It was hard to tell from the north side, but from the delta marketplace, he could clearly see the towering spire that the south-side church had collected sufficient tithes to build, its height all too obviously reaching for the heavens, and within it, there in the closest place in the town to God, hung a beautiful golden bell.
Dressed as a nun, Holo was apparently going to try to collect information by claiming she was returning from the south to her homeland in the north, and asking whether her town was still under pagan control. Lawrence had carefully explained to her what sorts of questions Church people were likely to ask her, but even without that advice, Holo was more than quick tongued enough to get the information they needed.
Still, she and Lawrence had always stayed together when investigating things or formulating plans in the past, and sending her off to do it alone was a strange sensation.
Lawrence would undoubtedly feel the same way when he got a shop and hired people to help him.
But then it suddenly occurred to him to wonder if, when that time came, Holo would be there.
***
Lawrence scratched his head and sighed.
If that was the sort of thing he was worried about, then perhaps she should be the one concerned about leaving him alone, he was sure she would say.
Lawrence smiled to himself, watching Holo cross the river along with all the other passengers before eventually turning his back and walking away.
His destination was the delta marketplace branch of the Rowen Trade Guild.
He was not crossing the river with Holo and visiting the main office for the simple reason that the people with whom he was acquainted were not there.
In keeping with the delta marketplace's status as a crucial trade link between the north and south sides of the town, every trade guild kept an office there to connect with traveling comrades and collect information on goods. Since buildings were regulated, guilds could not use them to compete with one another the way they did in town, but they were still constructed to best show off each guild's specialties. Lawrence could look at each one and guess which trade guild it represented.
Dozens or hundreds of merchants were attached to each trade house, all desperately competing with one another, and when Lawrence thought of this, it seemed a wonder to him.
There was that much commerce in the world, and it had yet to run dry.
Lawrence knocked on the door of his familiar-looking guild, feeling as if he were knocking on the cabin door of a small ship afloat upon a very large sea.
"Oh, now, there's a rare face." There were several merchants on the first floor of the guild house, all of them dressed for travel.
"It's been too long, Kieman."
Within the room and directly opposite the door sat the master of the branch. The man, Kieman, with his beautiful blond hair, had been born to trade.
His father was a prominent trader in Kerube, and thanks to that, Kieman had seen more goods from distant lands than anyone else, despite never having traveled far. His features were easily fine enough to have been a bard's, and unlike the other merchants on the house's first floor, who were trading wine and gossip, he bore not a single callus on his hands.
Kieman was the prototypical rich man's son, but while it seemed that the road-dusted merchants would inevitably hate him, their trust in him was actually rather strong.
Although he was perhaps two years younger than Lawrence, unlike Lawrence, he made his living within a town.
Those who did business in a town had no need to seek skills like being able to walk all day and night without collapsing or how to do business with someone whose language they did not speak.

Output:
"Indeed, it has, Kraft Lawrence. You've arrived this time by land, I take it?"
Perhaps no sea vessels had arrived in the past few days. "No, by ship—though it was via the river and not the sea."
At these words, Kieman brushed his chin with the feather end of his quill pen as he looked around the room.
It was said that he had thousands of maps' worth of knowledge of the land in his head.
Despite having met Lawrence but twice, he was searching his mind for the trade route by which Lawrence had arrived.
"I'm not on my usual route. There was some trouble in Lenos."
"Ah, I see."
Kieman's smile revealed even less than Holo's inscrutable smile.
Town merchants lived for decades in the same towns in which they were born, and in so doing, they learned all of one another's facial tics and tells, the better to divine one another's true intentions. As a result, town merchants were far craftier than traveling merchants. The fact of his youth made the young master of this branch office all the more imposing.
With effort, Lawrence kept his composure and produced the silver coins that were the customary offering upon visiting a trade house, then spoke.
"I saw rather an interesting show by the spring of gold."
"Heh. An interesting show, indeed, Mr. Lawrence—most impressive. Though it's a rather impenetrable display, even for a traveling merchant."
Not so much as glancing at the five trenni that Lawrence placed there, Kieman leaned across the counter and smiled like a child let in on a secret.
"One never knows where the sting may be laid, even in a seemingly transparent conversation. Even now Chief Jeeta at the main office is out and about, trying to protect our coin purses."
Of House Chief Jeeta, the man who headed the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, Lawrence knew nothing but his name, so there was a possibility he had been among the merchants Eve called out to.
Which would mean that despite Eve not living in Kerube and leading a company here, she was facing off against various leaders of trade guilds in the city before they could band together as a faction.
Was there any man whose chest did not swell at a tale of a young knight confronting a giant?
A feeling of envy rose up inside Lawrence, but while he might admit as much to Eve, he certainly would not to Kieman.
Kieman's ability made him entirely untrustworthy.
"So there's a sting, is there? From what I heard, the landowners of the north side are so many fish, flopping about on land."
"Yes, they were caught decades ago and are long since dried out. But this year, the lack of the northern campaign has slowed the flow of gold. It seems necessity knows no law."
If the money going to the landowners who lived on the north side was a royalty for the use of the delta marketplace, then it was probably collected as a tax.
In which case, if the traffic of goods and people slowed, it would translate directly to a loss in tax revenue.
But the reason the moneylenders would continue to profit while the debtors would be ruined whether or not they profited or took a loss was because the lenders would always be able to collect the same amount in interest.
"Perhaps only a passerby like me would imagine that making another loan to show compassion would turn out better in the future."
Kieman accepted the five silver trenni without any particular emotion and wrote out a receipt.
For someone who kept ledgers on the comings and goings of who knew how many great sea vessels, that was all five trenni was worth.
Lawrence found himself nostalgic for the exaggerated pleasure of Jakob, the Ruvinheigen guild house master, at having received a donation of trenni.


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

Input:
"Indeed, it has, Kraft Lawrence. You've arrived this time by land, I take it?"
Perhaps no sea vessels had arrived in the past few days. "No, by ship—though it was via the river and not the sea."
At these words, Kieman brushed his chin with the feather end of his quill pen as he looked around the room.
It was said that he had thousands of maps' worth of knowledge of the land in his head.
Despite having met Lawrence but twice, he was searching his mind for the trade route by which Lawrence had arrived.
"I'm not on my usual route. There was some trouble in Lenos."
"Ah, I see."
Kieman's smile revealed even less than Holo's inscrutable smile.
Town merchants lived for decades in the same towns in which they were born, and in so doing, they learned all of one another's facial tics and tells, the better to divine one another's true intentions. As a result, town merchants were far craftier than traveling merchants. The fact of his youth made the young master of this branch office all the more imposing.
With effort, Lawrence kept his composure and produced the silver coins that were the customary offering upon visiting a trade house, then spoke.
"I saw rather an interesting show by the spring of gold."
"Heh. An interesting show, indeed, Mr. Lawrence—most impressive. Though it's a rather impenetrable display, even for a traveling merchant."
Not so much as glancing at the five trenni that Lawrence placed there, Kieman leaned across the counter and smiled like a child let in on a secret.
"One never knows where the sting may be laid, even in a seemingly transparent conversation. Even now Chief Jeeta at the main office is out and about, trying to protect our coin purses."
Of House Chief Jeeta, the man who headed the Rowen Trade Guild in Kerube, Lawrence knew nothing but his name, so there was a possibility he had been among the merchants Eve called out to.
Which would mean that despite Eve not living in Kerube and leading a company here, she was facing off against various leaders of trade guilds in the city before they could band together as a faction.
Was there any man whose chest did not swell at a tale of a young knight confronting a giant?
A feeling of envy rose up inside Lawrence, but while he might admit as much to Eve, he certainly would not to Kieman.
Kieman's ability made him entirely untrustworthy.
"So there's a sting, is there? From what I heard, the landowners of the north side are so many fish, flopping about on land."
"Yes, they were caught decades ago and are long since dried out. But this year, the lack of the northern campaign has slowed the flow of gold. It seems necessity knows no law."
If the money going to the landowners who lived on the north side was a royalty for the use of the delta marketplace, then it was probably collected as a tax.
In which case, if the traffic of goods and people slowed, it would translate directly to a loss in tax revenue.
But the reason the moneylenders would continue to profit while the debtors would be ruined whether or not they profited or took a loss was because the lenders would always be able to collect the same amount in interest.
"Perhaps only a passerby like me would imagine that making another loan to show compassion would turn out better in the future."
Kieman accepted the five silver trenni without any particular emotion and wrote out a receipt.
For someone who kept ledgers on the comings and goings of who knew how many great sea vessels, that was all five trenni was worth.
Lawrence found himself nostalgic for the exaggerated pleasure of Jakob, the Ruvinheigen guild house master, at having received a donation of trenni.

Output:
"So they were stubborn."
"Exactly so. They stubbornly paid their interest, insisting they would eventually pay back in full. For our part, if we could only expand the marketplace, it would be trivial to reclaim the interest on the debt. But they know that, and so it only makes them more stubborn. 'We won't let you profit from us any further,' they say."
Kieman shrugged as though at a loss for further words, and Lawrence quite agreed.
He felt sorry for Eve on whom this was being taken out.
Despite being fallen nobility from the kingdom of Winfiel and apparently wielding a fair amount of influence in the Roam River region, this was probably the reason behind her throwing all that away and heading south.
She had done whatever she had to do in order to climb back up and in so doing had sunk deeper and deeper into debt.
"If only they would be more rational. As it is, marriage between the north side and south side is still difficult, to say nothing of moving one's household."
Kieman seemed happy to speak, but it was clear it was not out of any particular favor toward Lawrence.
No doubt he imagined Lawrence to have brought the subject up out of the idle curiosity of a traveling merchant.
But he was also probably thinking that as a representative of the Rowen Trade Guild, he could not have Lawrence going around saying things that contradicted the guild's position.
He had been so informative as a way of explaining to Lawrence that this was the guild line and to warn him that deviating from it would bring consequences.
Not understanding this would be dangerous, but having taken notice of the fact, Lawrence now imagined he could go to any trade guild and enjoy its protection as long as he fell into line.
"I see. So that means the rumor I heard might not necessarily be mistaken."
"Rumor?"
Information gathering was of paramount importance for a trade guild man like Kieman, and Lawrence had to smile at the way this piqued his interest far more than the five trenni that were on the counter a moment ago.
Among traveling merchants, betraying this level of interest always lowered one's status, even for a tasty rumor.
"Yes, it seems the Jean Company on the north side of town is being exploited by the powers that be there."
Of course, this was mere speculation, but the moment Lawrence spoke it, it became truth.
Kieman's expression hardly changed.
In fact, it changed too little.
"Might I ask...where you heard that?"
He could have purposefully played dumb, but Kieman seemed to realize that Lawrence had seen through him.
His eyes turned tense.
Lawrence now had to choose his words carefully.
He tried tossing a big rock into the pond.
"Actually, there was a strange former gentry in Lenos that I..."
"...Made a business deal with," he meant to say, but Lawrence didn't finish the sentence.
While Kieman's face made it seem like he had just heard a funny story, his elbow lightly trapped Lawrence's clothing against the counter.
His facial expression and body language were complete opposites.
"Mr. Lawrence, you seem tired from your journey. Would you care to rest yourself inside?"
The guild house had a dining room as well as beds and fireplaces for overnight stays.
Although that was not, of course, what Kieman meant.
Lawrence's bait seemed to have caught him a bigger fish than he had expected.
"Yes, with pleasure," he said with an accommodating smile.
Lawrence was led into what was surely Kieman's office, where soup that was redolent with fish was brought out.
This was not the sort of talk that called for wine, nor was a sweet childish drink appropriate.
And here in a town where travelers were constantly passing through, a savory, hearty fish soup was often well received.
"So, what is your relationship to the head of the Bolan family?"
It seemed less like a question and more like an interrogation.
Kieman had not touched his own soup.
Lawrence noticed as much, and for a moment, he wondered if something suspicious had been added to the dish.


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

Input:
"So they were stubborn."
"Exactly so. They stubbornly paid their interest, insisting they would eventually pay back in full. For our part, if we could only expand the marketplace, it would be trivial to reclaim the interest on the debt. But they know that, and so it only makes them more stubborn. 'We won't let you profit from us any further,' they say."
Kieman shrugged as though at a loss for further words, and Lawrence quite agreed.
He felt sorry for Eve on whom this was being taken out.
Despite being fallen nobility from the kingdom of Winfiel and apparently wielding a fair amount of influence in the Roam River region, this was probably the reason behind her throwing all that away and heading south.
She had done whatever she had to do in order to climb back up and in so doing had sunk deeper and deeper into debt.
"If only they would be more rational. As it is, marriage between the north side and south side is still difficult, to say nothing of moving one's household."
Kieman seemed happy to speak, but it was clear it was not out of any particular favor toward Lawrence.
No doubt he imagined Lawrence to have brought the subject up out of the idle curiosity of a traveling merchant.
But he was also probably thinking that as a representative of the Rowen Trade Guild, he could not have Lawrence going around saying things that contradicted the guild's position.
He had been so informative as a way of explaining to Lawrence that this was the guild line and to warn him that deviating from it would bring consequences.
Not understanding this would be dangerous, but having taken notice of the fact, Lawrence now imagined he could go to any trade guild and enjoy its protection as long as he fell into line.
"I see. So that means the rumor I heard might not necessarily be mistaken."
"Rumor?"
Information gathering was of paramount importance for a trade guild man like Kieman, and Lawrence had to smile at the way this piqued his interest far more than the five trenni that were on the counter a moment ago.
Among traveling merchants, betraying this level of interest always lowered one's status, even for a tasty rumor.
"Yes, it seems the Jean Company on the north side of town is being exploited by the powers that be there."
Of course, this was mere speculation, but the moment Lawrence spoke it, it became truth.
Kieman's expression hardly changed.
In fact, it changed too little.
"Might I ask...where you heard that?"
He could have purposefully played dumb, but Kieman seemed to realize that Lawrence had seen through him.
His eyes turned tense.
Lawrence now had to choose his words carefully.
He tried tossing a big rock into the pond.
"Actually, there was a strange former gentry in Lenos that I..."
"...Made a business deal with," he meant to say, but Lawrence didn't finish the sentence.
While Kieman's face made it seem like he had just heard a funny story, his elbow lightly trapped Lawrence's clothing against the counter.
His facial expression and body language were complete opposites.
"Mr. Lawrence, you seem tired from your journey. Would you care to rest yourself inside?"
The guild house had a dining room as well as beds and fireplaces for overnight stays.
Although that was not, of course, what Kieman meant.
Lawrence's bait seemed to have caught him a bigger fish than he had expected.
"Yes, with pleasure," he said with an accommodating smile.
Lawrence was led into what was surely Kieman's office, where soup that was redolent with fish was brought out.
This was not the sort of talk that called for wine, nor was a sweet childish drink appropriate.
And here in a town where travelers were constantly passing through, a savory, hearty fish soup was often well received.
"So, what is your relationship to the head of the Bolan family?"
It seemed less like a question and more like an interrogation.
Kieman had not touched his own soup.
Lawrence noticed as much, and for a moment, he wondered if something suspicious had been added to the dish.

Output:
"There was a disturbance. Something about furs, was it?"
The information had either just arrived today, or a contact in Lenos had taken a fast horse and delivered the news the previous day.
Lawrence had nothing to hide and so nodded, clearing his throat once.
"We tried to complete a large business deal together, but she betrayed me at the last minute. I've been so frustrated about the whole affair that I came down the river to vent my spleen at her."
"Surely you're joking." Either he was used to toying with others or unused to being toyed with himself.
A bit of anger crept into Kieman's features, and it somehow made Lawrence think of a younger Holo.
"The part about the business deal is true, and I did come down the river in search of Eve. However, my goal was to ask for her aid."
"In business?"
Lawrence shook his head. "I came across something quite strange in my travels. That happenstance led me to follow a certain silly tale."
"A silly...tale?"
"Yes."
Kieman rolled his eyes up as though he were gazing at the stars in the sky; then he continued. "You refer to the story of the wolf remains."
"Yes. For you to hit upon it so soon, it must be quite a famous tale around here."
"Famous it is, yes, but...Mr. Lawrence, is that truly what you're pursuing?" He seemed less taken aback than he was simply disbelieving.
Perhaps the story was such that he could not imagine why anyone would chase it.
"I can see you're shocked."
"No, not as such, but..." It was a pitiful excuse, as Kieman himself was well aware. "My apologies. There's no point in hiding it. I am indeed shocked."
"My traveling companion was born in the north. It concerns her homeland, and she desperately wishes to find the truth."
Here in a town where north and south collided, cultural and religious clashes were daily occurrences.
The reason Lawrence gave would be, if anything, more convincing in such a place.
"I see...What shocks me, though, is not the fact that you're chasing the story in and of itself."
It was the same reaction as Reynolds at the Jean Company.
But the words he continued with were different.
"Rather, what I find shocking is that while having an acquaintance with Eve Bolan, you would use it to pursue this wild-goose chase of all things."
Lawrence thought for a moment.
He tried to logically pinpoint Kieman's thought process.
"In other words, if I know Eve, I could use her to pursue any number of legitimate opportunities," Lawrence prompted, at which Kieman made a fine face and nodded.
"The reason I brought you back here, Mr. Lawrence, is that her name is extremely important in this town at the moment, and we're in a very delicate position."
"Meaning?"
If Eve's name was important and the town's position delicate, then the reason for that would likewise be so.
Lawrence guessed there was only about a fifty-fifty chance that his question would be answered, but it seemed he had won that bet.
"She's using her status as former nobility to secretly cooperate with the town headmen for profit. She's probably the only one who has a complete picture of all the interested parties. No one knows what the impact might be of a single mistake in their dealings with her. I called you back here and told you of this, Mr. Lawrence, for the same reason I spoke with you earlier."
He was referring to the countertop conversation about the relationship between the north and south.
That had indeed not been out of the kindness of his heart, but instead an explanation of the trade guild's thinking.
"So to hear that you've come here not to do business with Eve, but instead to ask her for clues to your folly of a quest—it not only surprises me, but also comes as an enormous relief."
Kieman spoke with an amiable demeanor, but behind his words was an order: "Do not do business with Eve in this town.
"But I think you are correct to seek her advice regarding the wolf remains. I doubt there's anyone with as much knowledge of the Roam River region as she."


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

Input:
"There was a disturbance. Something about furs, was it?"
The information had either just arrived today, or a contact in Lenos had taken a fast horse and delivered the news the previous day.
Lawrence had nothing to hide and so nodded, clearing his throat once.
"We tried to complete a large business deal together, but she betrayed me at the last minute. I've been so frustrated about the whole affair that I came down the river to vent my spleen at her."
"Surely you're joking." Either he was used to toying with others or unused to being toyed with himself.
A bit of anger crept into Kieman's features, and it somehow made Lawrence think of a younger Holo.
"The part about the business deal is true, and I did come down the river in search of Eve. However, my goal was to ask for her aid."
"In business?"
Lawrence shook his head. "I came across something quite strange in my travels. That happenstance led me to follow a certain silly tale."
"A silly...tale?"
"Yes."
Kieman rolled his eyes up as though he were gazing at the stars in the sky; then he continued. "You refer to the story of the wolf remains."
"Yes. For you to hit upon it so soon, it must be quite a famous tale around here."
"Famous it is, yes, but...Mr. Lawrence, is that truly what you're pursuing?" He seemed less taken aback than he was simply disbelieving.
Perhaps the story was such that he could not imagine why anyone would chase it.
"I can see you're shocked."
"No, not as such, but..." It was a pitiful excuse, as Kieman himself was well aware. "My apologies. There's no point in hiding it. I am indeed shocked."
"My traveling companion was born in the north. It concerns her homeland, and she desperately wishes to find the truth."
Here in a town where north and south collided, cultural and religious clashes were daily occurrences.
The reason Lawrence gave would be, if anything, more convincing in such a place.
"I see...What shocks me, though, is not the fact that you're chasing the story in and of itself."
It was the same reaction as Reynolds at the Jean Company.
But the words he continued with were different.
"Rather, what I find shocking is that while having an acquaintance with Eve Bolan, you would use it to pursue this wild-goose chase of all things."
Lawrence thought for a moment.
He tried to logically pinpoint Kieman's thought process.
"In other words, if I know Eve, I could use her to pursue any number of legitimate opportunities," Lawrence prompted, at which Kieman made a fine face and nodded.
"The reason I brought you back here, Mr. Lawrence, is that her name is extremely important in this town at the moment, and we're in a very delicate position."
"Meaning?"
If Eve's name was important and the town's position delicate, then the reason for that would likewise be so.
Lawrence guessed there was only about a fifty-fifty chance that his question would be answered, but it seemed he had won that bet.
"She's using her status as former nobility to secretly cooperate with the town headmen for profit. She's probably the only one who has a complete picture of all the interested parties. No one knows what the impact might be of a single mistake in their dealings with her. I called you back here and told you of this, Mr. Lawrence, for the same reason I spoke with you earlier."
He was referring to the countertop conversation about the relationship between the north and south.
That had indeed not been out of the kindness of his heart, but instead an explanation of the trade guild's thinking.
"So to hear that you've come here not to do business with Eve, but instead to ask her for clues to your folly of a quest—it not only surprises me, but also comes as an enormous relief."
Kieman spoke with an amiable demeanor, but behind his words was an order: "Do not do business with Eve in this town.
"But I think you are correct to seek her advice regarding the wolf remains. I doubt there's anyone with as much knowledge of the Roam River region as she."

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