Chapter 72: The Unwelcome Guest

Yuki, well acquainted with the routine, once again visited Black Star Café. Perhaps because it was already eight in the evening, the meal hour had passed and the drinking hour had begun, the bar was lively and bustling. Strangely, nothing could be heard from the street outside, but once Yuki stepped through the illusion maintained by Norba and pushed open the door, he was nearly blown back out by the deafening roar of revelry inside.

The bar was packed with people. Not all denizens of the universe could maintain human form for long, and in this club-like bar, which catered almost exclusively to extraterrestrials, there was no need to bother with disguises. About half of the patrons kept their human shape—some of them naturally appeared no different from earthlings—while the other half had let themselves go entirely. In short, it was a three-dimensional carnival of demons.

Yuki frowned slightly, feeling his eardrums gradually acclimate to the noise. He made his way through the jubilant, bouncing crowd to the bar counter.

At that moment, the rhythmic music reached its crescendo; the dance floor deep in the club was boiling over, and the bar counter had become an unexpected oasis of calm.

Manager Blake was still polishing glasses, and noticing Yuki approach, he pulled out the flight price list from beneath the counter. Yuki nodded in thanks and took it.

“I’d like to buy two round-trip tickets to Alpha Centauri,” Yuki said.

“Two sets?” The manager’s hand paused briefly, then he hung the glass upside down on the rack, washed his hands, opened the drawer, took out a stack of tickets, and handed over two double-ticket stubs to Yuki.

After paying, Yuki took the tickets, hearing the manager say, “That Magma Star native—what was his name? Maguna, right? He came by this morning as well, bought tickets for the same flight.”

“Huh? He’s going too?” Yuki’s surprise was evident, and the manager, realizing he might have misunderstood, explained, “I thought you were buying tickets for him.”

He was worried Yuki hadn’t coordinated with Maguna and they’d bought duplicate tickets, wasting money.

“No,” Yuki shook his head, “these are for another companion.”

He didn’t intend to say much about Senior Ayu, just replied vaguely.

Yet the manager remained concerned. “You’re really going? You might not come back.”

He truly believed today might be the last time he saw this young man.

Yuki’s gaze dimmed at the words; he knew all too well how dangerous this journey would be.

Maguna had bought tickets for the same flight, clearly taking up Yuki’s “adventure” suggestion—intentionally boarding the ill-fated flight, hoping to disappear along with his two missing companions and then reunite.

Yuki, meanwhile, hoped simply to survive the three-day journey.

Both he and Maguna could be counted among the main characters, but one side was bound to be disappointed.

He had originally intended to take risks; with the narrative’s inertia ever present, and believing himself, at least for now, to be the protagonist, he’d thought perhaps he might chance upon Sero and discover a safe way to use the “Gate.” But now, he dared not; after all, the captain had arranged for Senior Ayu to accompany him, likely instructing him not to be reckless.

Still, though he’d justified his choice of this route with the so-called “crater theory,” whether anything would happen—it was fifty-fifty.

Trouble, or no trouble.

Yuki stowed the tickets, preparing to leave. It was simply too noisy here, the clamor making his head buzz.

Just then, the bar door was pushed open again. The place was so loud that only Norba, the doorman, and those near the entrance—manager and Yuki—could hear the chime. Yuki glanced over, almost absentmindedly, and was so startled he nearly tumbled beneath the bar.

Seeing Yuki’s exaggerated reaction, the manager looked toward the door in curiosity, his hands freezing mid-motion.

“…Is that your companion?”

Yuki steadied himself and denied it with a look. No, this was certainly not his companion.

Still, he had to greet him—for all accounts, this was a formidable predecessor.

“You’ve returned, Mr. Kirisaki.”

The black-and-white demon strode gracefully to the bar, taking the first seat to Yuki’s left, and greeted him with a smile.

“It’s been a while, Yuki. You’re still alive.”

“Yes, thanks to you…”

Indeed—

Without the hidden power of the Taiga Light Key, without that force suspected to be Grimud’s, Yuki might have already perished in the cold reaches of space, or in any scenario where battle was triggered.

He could only smile awkwardly, while the manager glanced between Yuki and the sinister guest, his expression growing ever more nuanced.

After greeting Yuki, Tregear turned to the manager.

“Manager, has the payment for my last commission arrived?”

The manager scratched his bald head, somewhat perplexed. “You didn’t need to come in person; you could have messaged me, and I’d check it for you.”

Payment?

Yuki didn’t voice his question, only moved his lips. Tregear, seated beside him, caught the query, turned, and explained—no, more as if boasting.

“Recently, I took an information job from the black market: a bounty for dirt on a high-ranking official in the Galactic Alliance. The client wanted to bring that official down from their post.”

“But getting dirt isn’t always enough to remove someone. That client was rather naïve, so I met him face-to-face, offered a few little suggestions, and helped him achieve his goal directly.”

Yuki’s eye twitched. “Face-to-face,” “little suggestions”—he probably threatened the client through the network.

Tregear’s offhand tone was laced with malice; as he recounted, his brows relaxed and he smiled with pride, as if showcasing some freshly minted artwork.

“The commission’s complete now, so I’m here to collect payment.”

A cold sweat broke out on Yuki’s forehead. He wondered which unlucky member of the Galactic Alliance had become the victim of Tregear’s display of skill.

The manager took out a terminal, tapped a few keys, checked the screen, and nodded. “Payment’s been transferred. It was sent at around 3 a.m. today, so it should be in your account now.”

Tregear nodded in thanks, then ordered a “drink” from the manager, his eyes alight with delight.

Soon, the manager mixed an orange-red cocktail at dazzling speed, sliced a fresh lemon, perched it on the rim, and slid it over to Tregear.

Yuki waited until the manager walked away, then asked quietly, “Mr. Kirisaki, do you have to come to the bar to check your black market account information?”

“Of course not, you can use the terminal.” Tregear gestured to a long, pen-like device that projected a virtual screen, and Yuki understood what he meant.

“So why did you come in person?”

“Hmm…” Tregear mused, poking at the ice floating at the rim with his straw, making it clatter. The layered gold and red liquid mixed into a gradient of orange-red.

“If I said I came just to see you, would you believe me?”