With Johnson by her side, no one dared to trouble Rita along the way anymore.
Rita now felt like a great druid leading a giant bear and couldn’t help but praise, “You’re really something. Didn’t expect you to be this powerful—just showing up scared them all off.”
“Not really, they don’t even know me,” Johnson said, rubbing his big bald head.
“They don’t know you? Then why…”
“They’re just bullies who prey on the weak, barging in because they think you don’t understand anything. It’s not because they’re afraid of me. People who hang around the Sisterhood Quartet’s territory all day wouldn’t dare cause trouble with someone familiar with this place.”
Oh, so it’s because I’m an easy target and they don’t know where to complain, huh?
Come to think of it, Rita had heard the name “the Lady” more than once.
Taking this chance, she asked, “Who is this Lady? She must have some serious influence.”
“She’s the queen of Solus City’s underground world. Not just the black market, but all kinds of gray-area businesses are under her control. But no one knows her true identity, and she prefers to keep it that way,” Johnson explained.
Listening to him, Rita’s mind conjured an image of a queen dressed in ornate clothing, wielding a long whip.
Eh, forget it.
Ever since Rita met the skilled Sisterhood Quartet, she probably wouldn’t get interested in any mature older sisters for a while.
Actually, Rita wanted to ask Johnson why he came to such a place, especially since he seemed quite familiar with it.
But the black market wasn’t a place to ask such questions.
Johnson hadn’t asked why she ended up in this remote place or why she had gotten into trouble with two different groups.
They were in the same boat.
The winding path they took was quickly traversed under Johnson’s guidance.
Rita made a mental note of the route, and soon the two stopped at the entrance of the alley where Rita had first approached.
“I’ll leave you here,” Johnson said, stopping in his tracks.
Walking beside such a muscle-bound man made Rita feel uneasy, as if she were losing face.
Compared to big sisters and big guys, Cecilia was better—though she had a bad temper, she was small and soft.
Small is good, good is small!
Rita pulled her hood back over her head and gave Johnson a slight bow.
“Thanks for your help today. I’ll take my leave now.”
Before Rita could even stand, she heard footsteps rapidly approaching from behind.
Chasing her again?
Since they were now outside the black market’s boundary, someone must have been waiting for her here.
Rita’s eyes sharpened.
She spun around and saw flaming red twin tails burst into her vision like a blaze.
Why you?
Momoka, her face covered in bandages, came to an abrupt halt.
The scrape of her shoes against the ground was harsh as she looked up at Johnson.
So she was here for Johnson.
Rita was about to relax when Momoka’s confused gaze landed on her, making Rita awkwardly lower her hood.
Momoka’s surprise was even greater.
“Ah! It’s you! I’ve been looking for you everywhere! I couldn’t catch up after the exam, and when I chased you out, you vanished. I heard you lived in the Lord Mayor’s Mansion, so I went there, but the maid said you’d gone out! I thought I wouldn’t see you these past few days!”
Even without naming her, Rita knew Momoka had fully recognized her.
Johnson could recognize Rita at a glance; it was no surprise Momoka, who had fought with her just hours ago, knew her well.
When they parted, Momoka had even grabbed Rita’s Gun—probably a rash move at the time, but it made sense she was searching everywhere for her.
Meanwhile, Rita looked like someone running scared and hiding from their crime.
“Um, the Gun… I-I’ll return it to you,” Rita stammered, removing her hood.
“Phew, good,” Momoka breathed out. “Alright, come with me.”
“Huh?” Rita’s mouth dropped open. “Is this… prison?”
“What prison? It’s a Gathering, a Gathering.”
The Gathering took place in a tavern—not large but finely decorated, free from loud, drunken adventurers or flirtatious types carrying drinks and chatting up strangers.
Rita suspected that even if there were any frivolous fellows, once they saw Johnson’s wall-like physique, none of them would pick these few as targets.
There weren’t many attendees—five in total, including Rita.
Sitting beside Johnson was Alber, the dual-bladed warrior.
Next to Rita was Promi, a gray-haired girl swordsman.
Momoka sat alone near the aisle.
The five gathered around a small square table.
Rita felt she probably had little in common with them and was worried about bringing down the mood with her low energy.
Being with them made her a bit uncomfortable.
“Everyone,” the server brought several glasses of wine. Momoka stood, raising her oak cup, the golden liquid swirling inside. “I’m truly honored that none of those I invited are absent.”
Four pairs of eyes turned to Momoka—Alber looked quite interested, Rita was slightly puzzled, and Promi remained expressionless.
“You are all outstanding in the first round of assessments. Though we’ve had little interaction until now and will soon become rivals, I hope we can all become friends!” Momoka continued.
Hearing that they had little previous interaction, Rita felt much more at ease.
“And…” Momoka seemed about to say more but held back. She finally raised her glass again. “Anyway, I hope everyone has a wonderful evening! Cheers!”
“Cheers.”
Alber and Johnson cooperatively raised their cups high.
Rita quickly followed suit, while Promi merely nodded and brought her glass to her lips, taking a long sip like the rest.
The rich malt fragrance filled Rita’s mouth as the liquor slid down her throat, making her feel as if she were drinking a spoonful of wheat syrup mixed with alcohol rather than wine.
No wonder this wine cost a gold coin for two glasses.
If not for Momoka’s invitation, Rita might never have bought such an expensive thing in her life.
Once seated, Momoka took the lead in starting the conversation, beginning with the assessments.
Alber and Johnson quickly joined in, while Rita had few chances to speak.
Promi quietly drank without a word.
Promi’s presence here was surprising.
Rita had thought Promi would be a serious type, bored by entertainment and socializing.
Momoka too—at first, Rita thought she was stiff, but now she seemed lively.
“Rita, Rita,” Momoka called her name just as Rita was thinking about her.
“Huh?” Rita blinked in confusion.
“What are you spacing out for? I’m asking you a question!” Momoka pouted.
“What question?”
“The moves you used to defeat me today—I’ve never seen them before. Where did you learn them?”
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