Chapter 9 ☆ Night meeting

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Scaramouche

When I wake up it's almost 3:00 and the first thing I think about when I open my eyes is that I'm not getting paid enough for what I do. Besides having to pretend to like where I am, I also have to wake up in the middle of the night to do my job. I haven't gotten used to the country at all, only my bickering with Cassie. I wish I hadn't gotten used to it, though. I would have loved to still be amused to see her get annoyed when I say something to her. That source of amusement was welcome. Now, though, I feel like that's not all that's involved. It's a strange feeling that I've never felt before and it gives me chills. It's not the first time I've had fun at someone's expense, but it's the first time I feel like it's not enough anymore. Anyway, there's no point in thinking about it, I'm up so I have to do my job.

A few days ago I sent Tartaglia a report on my situation and progress. I remember falling asleep while writing it. I hadn't written anything in an incriminating way, but I was still relieved when Cassie, that day, didn't mention anything about it. Tartaglia sent the report onward to our superiors, and the response I got, however, was that Tartaglia was going to supervise me from here on out and write the reports on the progress of the mission himself, which seemed like a waste of time to me.

I'm doing great and I don't need a babysitter, not to mention I don't need anyone to do my job for me. In so many days I've managed to learn quite a lot about the city and the people. Now I know pretty much what everyone else is doing. I know that Marjorie hardly ever leaves the front of her shop and that Diona, the cat girl, hates Diluc and wants to destroy the wine industry, even though people like her drinks. I also know that Diluc owns the Angel Share tavern, but only occasionally stops by to serve customers. I also know that Lisa is usually at the library and only leaves to visit people who haven't returned their books on time, or to talk to Jean, the Acting Grand Master. And I also know what Timaeus, Sara, Blanche and Margaret are doing, as well as a lot of other information about the townspeople. I know a lot more than Tartaglia would ever know, even if I tell him. So why does he have to write the reports for me now?

The response letter clearly stated that I was to meet him around 3:00 in town to talk about the mission, so as much as I would hate to see him again, I have to go. There's no rule against hanging out in the middle of the night, which is one of the reasons you should love this city, but which just seems silly to me. I love breaking the rules, and a rule that we always have curfew at 10pm would have been a real fun now. Tartaglia is at the tavern outside with a bottle in hand and two glasses on the table.

I walk towards him and he sees me immediately. Not that I was expecting anything else. I'm the only person here besides him. It would be pretty hard not to see me.

"Hey!" says Tartaglia when he sees me. "There's our favourite midget!"

"Fuck you," I reply as soon as I get next to him.

"Oh, you're hurting my feelings. I thought we were friends."

"We're friends, my ass," I say and realize that's exactly what Cassie said a few days ago when she came to my house.

I try not to think about it too much, but somehow I already know something is wrong with me.

"You are so cold," he says. "I was hoping we could talk a bit before we get down to the important stuff, like what you've been doing for the last week and what information you've gathered to help you."

"I've already said this in the report," I say briefly.

But he doesn't miss the opportunity to say something:

"Do you want time to pass quickly so you can see your girlfriend again...?"

I throw a knife at his ear faster than he can react. It cuts it a little and a red stain forms where it was scratched. Just as I wanted.

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