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Reincarnation chronicles: How to noble

James Halden was everything the reader hated. Rich, privileged, spoiled. Just a side character, with the potential to become the last boss if he so wished. Too bad he was also lazy to boot. Or was he? What happens when the reader is thrust into his life. Finding out the character's motivation and true patterns of thinking. Nothing short of fabulous fan and action and games and magic and supernatural phenomenon and even more fan. Did I mention small scale and large scale warfare, mind games and epic fails. All while learning not to judge people based on a few words on a page, or on that all important first impression.

younghand · Fantasie
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53 Chs

Night on the town.

He couldn't well walk around with two children at night, but he didn't feel comfortable leaving them alone in the house. There was no one else he trusted as he ought to yet.

So after changing his hair colour he'd settled on the two turning into their tiny forms, and he and Hans each carrying one on their shoulders. They were invisible of course, and he'd changed Hans's hair colour too. The fact that he was able to maintain almost four different dark magic spell forms meant he was ready to use third-tier dark magic, just as soon as he found more advanced grimoires than he had on hand.

He might even be able to use fourth-tier already. That spoke of very strong affinity, as strong as if not stronger than his fire affinity. The mercenaries had left hours before, and he'd instructed his servants not to disturb him no matter what.

He learnt a lesson that night though. Being a high level warrior did not mean one was gifted at sneaking. He was surprised half the house hold hadn't come to investigate by the time he and Hans jumped the perimeter wall and set out through the shadows of large pine and cypress trees.

He didn't want any observers connecting the two to the noble district, and especially not to the Halden house. He removed his cloak once the tree cover thinned and the space between residences sparsed out. Mage lights, not brighter than those in the noble district, but more numerous, more character nuanced, more lively, somehow.

The other districts of the city, alive during the day, seemed even more so in the evening. Street performers, glimmering lights of blue and purple and yellow and so many brilliant colours, night merchants with voices louder than their day counterparts, and a district filled with red lights.

Another district within a district. Or rather one that connected all except the noble district. The one thin road through was said to go to every district, and there was even a side street that led to the noble district, the one that connected and dirty nobles used to come and sate their depravities.

The lights were red, it was said, so that it was harder to recognise the people you saw. The district was built for every one to enjoy, so there was no need to eavesdrop on your neighbour's passions. James hadn't gotten too deep in before someone grabbed his hand. He felt Eno's fur rub against his neck as the fox shifted in discomfort.

"Ah, a couple of young men! Won't you two strapping lads patronise our inn, just for one night?"

The woman winked, exposing her elaborately painted eye lids. James wondered the kind of make up they had, that shone so brilliantly in this drab lighting. She was soft. So soft, even her arms, not just the parts she had squeezed on his arm.

He smiled at her, then turned to see Hans surrounded by more than one woman, all being handsy with his muscled arms. He felt jealous, and relieved all at once. He fished out a couple of silvers.

"Give you and your girls these for free if you can lead me to madam Vi's. I don't know the place, but I have somone expecting me there."

"Oh? Don't be like that. Our girls are as good as—"

"Alright. I'll give each of you five silvers if you lead us there."

"Done," she said quickly, probably not wanting him to change his mind.

In truth, this was what she would have made in two nights, if the business was good. Now he was handing it to her in one. Even the most expensive courtesans didn't make more than ten silvers a night. James knew all this, yet money wasn't his problem just then.

He'd been targeted. It couldn't have been a noble. That just didn't make sense. He'd all but made himself insignificant in their circles, and his rumoured bride was too cautious to do something like this. There was another party involved here, and he intended to find out who.

"We should take a carriage, though. Its pretty far from here," the girl explained as she led him forward.

Her friends were flanking them on all sides, even as far as one standing in the rear guard and looking around intently. Like some kind of warrior watching their squad's backs. James only nodded at her request, not minding the how's of the whole operation.

It was only five minutes by carriage, even with how crowded the red light district seemed. The deeper they'd gone in though, the worse the noise pollution had gotten.

There were bards singing the most inappropriate songs in hundreds of joints, their voices mincing to form an inaticulate jumble. James only occasionally caught the words. Then there was the loud exaggerated passionate noise, and the smell of herbs, and sweat and—

The place they'd wanted to go might have been the worst of the lot. Opening the door to a large open room filled with smoke and scantily clad women, and men with painted faces (not clown like paint) was enough to have James regretting his decision.

He rushed past their escort and shut the door firmly. He had children with him, for crying out loud. He had to stop to think for a while, trying to remember.

"We'll use the side entrance!" he said at last, once he'd calmed down enough.

"What? But this is the entrance that —"

"Don't worry about it. Here, have your silvers. Twenty, and four more for your trouble. We can find our own way from here."

Behind him, Hans looked tired, his shoulders slumped, his face pallid, his eyes red rimmed. It was like this trip had shaved a good number of years off him.

"Hey wait!" the woman shoved the coins away, as if warding away some sort of evil. "How about we finish the assignment, then you might even pay us more."

"I will pay you more to leave."

But some kind of glimmer had entered the girl's eyes now. It looked almost predatory. The others were watching her carefully too, sharing looks of uncertainty.

She didn't give anyone time to question what was going on. She took off down a side street, James followed.

Only an eye level shutter opened when she banged on a metal door.

"Password," asked a gruff voice.

The girl looked back at him with a frown. She was right to do so, since he was technically the leader. He was the one who'd suggested he knew what he was doing, so he ought to have enough connections to get in.

But James knew no password. He had no connections whatsoever. If anything, he hadn't thought this plan through well enough. But one didn't need connections if they were hopelessly rich. He winked at the girl as he passed by, his hand fishing through his coin purse. Money was a kind of power too.

He pushed the coin through the slot. There was a too long moment of quiet as the man on the other side took the coin, then retreated with loud footsteps. He'd not bothered to close the shutter. James took the moment to study the four girls who'd escorted him here.

"You guys want to come in with us?"

The other girls looked undecided, unsure, but the lead girl nodded with a determined expression, face set and all.

"Alright, how about I give you three ten silvers each to get out of here? This one seems like she will be more trouble than she's worth to get rid of."

The three accepted with great fervour and enthusiasm. The first girl watched them go, frowning slightly at their retreating forms.

"Fools," she said.

James found himself getting a little interested. Maybe this girl was a little more than she seemed. Only time would tell, but he supposed he didn't mind investing in the future. Just a little. Like a gamble really. It might pay off, or it might not.

"What is your name?"

She seemed hesitant, staring into his eyes, then at Hans who was also watching her with interest.

"Ariane," she said after minutes of deliberation.

"Ariane, huh? I have a feeling tonight won't be the last I see you."

She spoke quietly, too quietly that he shouldn't have been able to hear. But he was trained to hear the thoughts of those who didn't want to be heard. He could read lips if worse came to worst, so he heard her well enough.

"You can count on it," and such a passionate voice too.

Ambition. He loved to see it.

That was when the door opened to reveal a grinning man, not an ounce of fat on his bony sketch, scattered beards of dirty grey and even more scattered hair. A vacant look in his eyes and teeth yellowed by his daily indulgences.

"Madam Vi will see you. If she's interested in what you have to say, you may purchase the password for your next visit."

James tried not to show that he had no interest in returning for the foreseeable future. He'd only come here because there was some major divergence from the novel's plot. If he could set things to rights within the next week, he'd go to the academy and look forward to the normal development of the story as he remembered it. Then things would become much more predictable. At least for a little while.

He wouldn't need the information then. At least he hoped he wouldn't.