The Caretaker of Tenants From Another World - Chapter 117 (Patreon)

Alt link: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1tieGTZPcNFQfrXgbQ81q2kEpuEVoIQxDgiAZrQBweNg/edit?usp=sharing

Chapter 117

"Where's Mercutia?" Professor Markel asked, barging through the front door.

"My room. Talking to her caretaker through facetime," I answered as a matter of factly.

"Alone? You should be up there supervising her!" The professor and his two task force operatives pushed past me to rush upstairs.

I followed them up just as one of them tried opening my room door, but it was locked. The second escort planted one leg firmly on the ground while his other was poised to deliver a kick.

"Wait, let me unlock—!"

He kicked open the door, drawing a wince from me at the harsh wooden crack on the lock and frame. There went my privacy…

We stormed inside, where Mercutia sat at my computer, face glued to the screen, and both hands clenched atop her lap. It wasn't her caretaker from Shanghai she was speaking to, but the Captain of the Royal Black Guards, Clarissa Raynard.

"Why, hello again. I did not expect to see you so soon again, Caretaker Akira. Unfortunately, I cannot stay long. I have a flight to catch. Bye-bye for now." Clarissa's smile widened just a bit more.

"Clarissa, don't do anything rash— Damn it!" The professor cursed under his breath as the video cut, then snapped to his escorts. "Get back to the car and connect me with the Secretary of Defense. Now!"

They rushed out without so much as an affirmation.

"Secretary of Defense? Just how serious is this?" I asked.

"Mercutia would know, wouldn't she?" He cast a chiding gaze to the elven girl, who shamefully twiddled her thumbs.

"I thought I could convince Captain Clarissa to stop… She wouldn't even listen to me, her own adopted daughter." Mercutia clutched the side of her arm, digging her nails into the skin.

It looked like Saralash wasn't the only threat left, now Clarissa was coming after us.

"What do we do? If the last two come after us at the same time, I'm not sure if Irapesha and Cresta could take them. Even if they could, there's no way this dorm is going to stay standing," I said to the professor.

"Angeline is who they are after." He marched to the other end of the room and pulled back the blinds. "We can shelter her away from the dormitory in one of our facilities. If they can't find her—"

"Then they may go after the others and use them as hostages until I reveal myself," Ange said from the broken doorway.

A guard came no further than a few feet away behind Ange.

"The Secretary of Defense is setting up a meeting with the Malaysia Defense Minister. They're waiting on you," he said.

"A decision needs to be made soon. We're still on the look out for Saralash and hope our friends across the Pacific can intercept Clarissa before she leaves the country." Professor Markel sighed and left in a hurry.

Once we were alone and the front door closed shut, Ange folded her arms across her chest.

"I'm famished. May we go for some sushi? Just the three of us," Ange suddenly said.

"You're joking. At a time like this?" I asked.

We ended up leaving the other tenants at the dorm, while I, Mercutia, and Ange drove into the city for sushi. Naturally, our adventure was followed by a group of guards. I wasn't sure what came over Ange to make such a request, but as we sat at a table with a conveyor running through and she picked every dish imaginable, it almost felt like a last meal.

Our armed escort stayed outside while we ate, but they drew a lot of attention and made the patrons tense.

"The seas in Weyera have since become boiling hot, scalding like a cauldron over a fire. You cannot find a river or creek anymore. They are all dried up. Suffice to say, there are likely few fish alive. Yet here it is so plentiful." Ange gazed over her shoulder to a fish tank that ran along the length of the sushi place.

Koi and other similar-sized fish swam through the artificial coral bed and decorations placed into the water. They were meant to add to the atmosphere of the sushi restaurant, but…

"I'm going to be honest. I can't help but think it's in poor taste to have a fish tank in a sushi place," I joked.

"You two must be angry at me," Mercutia said, staring at her plate of untouched tuna rolls. "Seeing Cresta and Commander Irapesha fight so passionately, I can't help but feel guilty that we've ruined your peace here. So why are you treating me to sushi instead of getting yourselves to safety?"

"Every step of the way during the war, we have let anger and fear dictate our lives. It doesn't have to be that way here. Could you ever have imagined to one day break bread with a demon such as myself?" Ange asked.

That brave front was betrayed by shaky hands. I saw what was going on here now. Ange was trying to stay strong for all our sakes. Even for Mercutia, who once sought her life.

When Ange placed her chopsticks down, I put my hand on top of hers.

"Mercutia, like you, Ange came here for another chance and to make things right. Not just for herself, but for others like Tamara. We're treating you to sushi to show that we've already forgiven you," I said.

The elven girl finally picked up her chopsticks to eat a piece of sushi.

"It's good. I wish I could have eaten with the other Royal Black Guards… with my mo— Captain Clarissa," Mercutia muttered.

After having lunch for sushi, we emerged from the restaurant to our escorts a little on edge.

"Are we returning to the dormitory?" one man asked.

"Not yet. We're going clothes shopping," I said.

The other frowned. "It would really be for the best if we got back…"

"Mercutia's made a one-way trip here from Shanghai without bringing any clothes. You're not going to deny a lady something to wear, are you?"

The embarassed netherfolk in question shifted awkwardly when I thumbed over to her.

Our escorts sighed. The leader of them, a man of dark complexion and thick mustache, twirled a finger in the air to signal to a harpy perched on the edge of a building above.

We went to a clothing outlet next, where Ange led Mercutia along to find her something nice to wear. The summer season was fast approaching, so much of the outerwear were sundresses, crop tops, and anything that wasn't suffocating. As we passed through the swimwear section, I couldn't help but stare at Ange and fantasize about what she would wear.

Bikini was at the top of the list, but one piece swimsuits somehow have a better effect of accentuating curves than bare skin.

Then there was me.

I spun around to the men's section of swimsuits. All the banners of hunky male models taunted my not-up-to-snuff body.

"Akira, come here!" Ange hollered to me.

When I caught up, Mercutia was just emerging from the changing booth in a white and yellow flower-pattern sundress. The hair buns felt out of place.

"I-I'm not very big on dresses…" Mercutia stammered with fingers pinching the seams.

"It looks good. Why not?" I asked.

"Ying's family are tailors specializing in traditional Chinese dresses. Recently, they have taken to having me model their outfits to gain netherfolk interest. It's where the money will be in the future, they say." She groaned in displeasure.

That also explained the buns, and judging by Ange's stare, she was thinking the same.

"How about we bring down your hair?" Ange suggested. "I'm sure you would—"

"Don't touch me!" Mercutia cried, raising a barrier and startling Ange who tried to reach for her hair.

"I'm sorry, dear. I shouldn't have," she apologized.

"N-No… I'm sorry…"

The barrier vanished, but the tension didn't.

It got awkward between the two until I offered to help Mercutia let down her hair. After learning a thing or two brushing and grooming Tamara's forest of wool, I'd become confident in taking care of a woman's precious hair. The elbow-length curly locks suited her more than the buns, especially in a sundress.

"I'll go find something more suitable to your tastes," Ange said, leaving us behind.

Mercutia breathed easier when Ange was gone.

"Not used to demons, right? It was the same for my tenants, too. Well, one in particular. Cresta and Ange were always one thin strand away from snapping at each other."

"What about that girl, Tamara?" Mercutia asked.

"Tamara was the one who surprised us. She came to live here with the intention to forgive Ange. They got close, and like you and Clarissa, are pretty much like mother and daughter at this point," I explained.

Mercutia faced into the changing room mirror since the curtain was drawn open.

"She picked this out for me. I-I actually kind of like it…"

"I've returned," Ange announced to our surprise.

"Ange… That's a little too much to try out, isn't it?" I asked of all the outfits in both her arms.

"Nonsense. Mercutia is here on vacation, remember? We should be as hospitable as possible," she said.

We tried an ungodly amount of clothing. Ange didn't spare me, picking outfits she thought I would look nice in, since all I had to wear were what my parents bought me for the past 18 years.

"Wait, this is a speedo. I'm not wearing this!" I complained.

"Why not?" Ange pouted. "The other option is swimming trunks. What's the difference between showing a little thighs?"

"It feels like underwear!"

Ange put both hands on her hips.

"What does that make bikinis? You had us try on swimsuits, now it's your turn. Try it!" she urged, backing me into the changing room.

"Try— I don't know who else had their wiener in that!"

Our antics drew a giggle from Mercutia. She stifled it as soon as we turned her way, but it still showed on her face. Slowly, she began to smile. Her stiff frown became just malleable enough to flip.

By the end of the clothes shopping spree, we left behind most of the pile. Mercutia had a few outfits that Ange picked out, but she wore the first sundress to the checkout line.

"Are you sure you want to keep that, dear?" Ange asked Mercutia as we got to the register.

"It's a lot comfier and less tight than the dresses I'm used to. So, thank you for choosing this for me," Mercutia quietly said.

Stunned by Mercutia's words of gratitude, Ange had forgotten to move when a register opened and the employee called to us. We paid for our stuff and came away with large plastic bags of clothing in each hand. On our way out, however, Mercutia paused right before the exit.

"What's the matter? We better get going before the guards get antsy again." I grinned, gazing up at one of the harpies flying circles around the store.

"Clarissa hasn't always been so cold. She was kind once. I don't want her or Saralash to be sent back to Weyera like Thane and Jeriah. They were all like family to me when I lost mine. I'm not sure if any of them deserve the same kindness you've shown me, but… I have to try. Will you please help them?"

"My answer is obvious. What about you, Ange?" I asked, bumping her by the hips like she always did to me.

Ange stumbled forward and shot me a glare, then cleared her throat.

"They can come for my life, but I don't appreciate that they have put Tamara in danger. So I ask you this: do you love them?" she asked.

"I love Clarissa as a mother, and Saralash as a sister. Jeriah and Thane… they were like goofy uncles to me, turning into odd creatures and levitating toys around me. Distant sometimes, but I loved them all the same. I can't help those two anymore, but the rest I want to," Mercutia said.

Ange smiled. "Then—"

The harsh chime of a breaking news segment appeared on the television behind the employee registers. We raced back into the store to get a closer look. The camera was from a helicopter, a bird's eye view of a familiar black vehicle turned over on the side of the road with the engine smoking. Police vehicles and several ambulances were on the scene, pulling people out of the wreckage.

"This is the footage we received half an hour ago," the reporter began, "that appears to have been an attack perpetrated by a lone netherfolk. The three inside the vehicle were taken to a hospital and listed in critical condition. We're just now receiving the names of the victim—"

"Is that?" Ange gasped.

"Professor Markel…" I repeated the first name to be read.