When The Silver Bell Of Charlotte's Pharmacy Rings - Chapter 35

Around the time Matiel and Charlotte were rushing towards the Pelz Opera House, Bloz Traeker was sitting alone in the living room that had become a mess in just a few days, drinking straight from the bottle.

He used to drink a lot when he was young and full of vigor, but he quit drinking after his wife gave birth to their child.

He would occasionally have a glass with meals during family gatherings or on evenings when he was in a good mood—like when he received extra pay—but it had been nearly 20 years since he drank straight from the bottle to the point of losing his senses.

At first, he felt a vague sense of guilt about it, but the more he drank, the more he thought it didn’t matter what happened.

‘Damn it, I won’t stop drinking until those cursed rat bastards all drop dead. With that awful sound… Dammit!’

With a flushed face, feeling his heart pounding fiercely as if it was screaming in rage at times, he glared at the tightly closed basement door.

Behind the door, the sound of rats frantically scurrying about never ceased.

It sounded like there were dozens, maybe even hundreds of them.

Of course, Traeker’s basement wasn’t that big.

If hundreds of rats had entered the basement, they would probably be trampling on each other’s backs and heads, slapping each other with their disgusting, slippery bare tails as they moved around.

The thought made Bloz Traeker’s hair stand on end once again.

Layers upon layers of rats… Imagining the movement of dirty, scruffy gray, brown, and mottled fur and plump, sagging bodies sent chills down his entire arm.

I sprayed rat poison. Traeker gulped down more alcohol, trying to suppress his fear.

And he waited for the disgustingly quick and heavy footsteps—how much did these creatures weigh?—coming from behind the door to stop.

Would the rats scream as they died? He wondered. If they screamed, it would be satisfying.

‘Soon I’ll hear them dying. They’ll all die. Then I’ll leave their corpses in the basement for two days.

I’ll make sure other rats see that sight and run away if they try to come in. I’ll make sure they never dare to set foot in my basement again.’

For a moment, Traeker wondered if rats were smart enough to be scared by the sight of their brutally dead comrades… but it didn’t matter.

Smart or not, those dirty little creatures would pay the price. He would make sure of it.

Thump, a sound was heard.

Traeker, who was about to put the bottle to his mouth, jumped up startled by the first unfamiliar noise.

Now his heart was beating almost as fast as a bird’s.

Just getting up from the chair made his head spin and left him breathless.

The sound he just heard, that sound definitely came from right behind the door.

It was the sound of something… something heavy and soft hitting the door with all its might.

Ah, yes. Traeker thought.

One of your friends is dying, huh? There must be a smart one who noticed first.

But it’s no use. You’d better enjoy your last supper quickly, you…

Traeker put down the bottle on the table with his eyes wide open.

His hands were shaking violently like those of an elderly person suffering from a stroke or a chronic alcoholic.

Thump.

The sound was heard again. And again thump, thump, thump…

‘No. It’s not just one hitting. Damn it, listen.’

It was rats, no, a group of rats.

It must be 10, 20, maybe 50 rats running towards the door and slamming their bodies against it.

The short thumping sounds gradually got closer together, then merged into one loud bang!

When the hinge let out its first squeak, Traeker’s whole body trembled.

Scratch scratch scratch…

Traeker took a big step towards the basement, almost pushing the table away, then stopped abruptly as if belatedly realizing how foolish that was.

There was no need to open the door to check what the second sound was.

Anyone with ears, no matter how stupid, would be able to recognize the nature of this sound.

They’re gnawing at it. Sweat broke out on Traeker’s face and neck.

They’re gnawing at the door. Those things… to get out…

He thought he should run out of the house right away, but his feet felt glued to the ground.

The scratching sound grew stronger and faster.

The basement door was made of not very good wood. Moreover, it was old and worn. It wouldn’t take long once they started gnawing at it.

Now the soft scratching sound was gone.

It changed to a sound like an angry madman scratching the door with cracked nails. Soon, very soon…

There was a cracking sound. Bloz Traeker saw teeth protruding through a small hole.

Rat teeth. Two long, repulsive front teeth. The tips looked strangely sharp.

And another one.

Another one.

Traeker’s lips trembled. It felt like his throat was full of alcohol. It felt like drowning without water.

Like swallowing razor blades, he felt a terrible pain in his throat.

The rats were getting closer and closer now. They were almost there…

The bottom of the door cracked with a snap. The last thing Traeker saw was the angry eyes of the rats.

Their bulging black eyeballs were full of mocking murderous intent.

* * *

Despite there being little time left before the opera started, the hall of the opera house was very crowded.

Even as the ding, dong, dang bell sounds rang out along with pre-recorded announcements, people didn’t think of returning to their seats and continued laughing and chatting with champagne glasses in hand.

When Charlotte and Matiel arrived, the attention of everyone in the hall focused on them.

Some people openly muttered, “Look, the Duke of Elinak brought his lover.”

They seemed to be trying to whisper to the person next to them, but it was almost at the level of shouting into a megaphone.

He was clearly classified as drunk and would probably not be able to watch the opera.

“As expected of ‘Pelz’. There are so many people.”

Charlotte said in a quiet but excited voice.

Unlike what Matiel had worried about when all eyes focused on them, she didn’t seem to mind at all.

She even looked accustomed to it. She seemed to be enjoying the attention.

“Is this your first time here?”

“Of course. Invitations to the opera only occasionally come to ‘Sherry’, not Charlotte Berrett. But I don’t have connections with big shots who might rent Pelz’s box seats for a year, or even 10 years.”

“Should I say I’m honored to take your first experience?”

Matiel bent over and whispered in a voice only Charlotte could hear.

For a moment, Charlotte felt a tingling sensation in her heels from his breath flowing from his lips that had suddenly come closer, and his voice that had become a bit huskier.

However, without showing it, she snorted loudly as if for him to hear.

“If you think there’s a woman who would willingly show you under her petticoat at such a cliché flirtation, you’d better come to your senses.”

Matiel smiled very briefly and replied cynically.

“I don’t need words if I want to. You know that, don’t you?”

Charlotte frowned and looked back at him with an expression that seemed about to smile.

Matiel quickly read the weak contempt and… raw interest that a pubescent teenager might have in her eyes.

“Why do you only act like a vulgar man in front of me? I need to know that before sitting next to you in the box seat.”

Matiel shrugged both shoulders.

“Well. Now that I hear it, I’m curious about the reason too. Is it because I think you’ll reciprocate?”

“Dream on.”

Charlotte turned her head abruptly and disappeared behind the curtain covering the entrance to the box seat.

Only after following her in did Matiel realize that he hadn’t told her the location of the box seat.

This must also be her magic or intuition, or something like that…

The Pelz Opera House had rankings even for box seats.

Originally, box seats were often used for purposes other than properly watching the play—such as observing who is whose mistress sitting across, or who is passionately kissing whom—and the more suitable the seat was for that purpose, the more expensive it became.

In addition, seats where one could enjoy the play without discomfort were classified as ‘special seats’.

The annual rental price for a special seat was about what it would take five average adults to save every penny of their salary for 8 years.

In front of the seats of those who rented for a year, there was a triangular ornament made of processed citrine.

The box seat of the Duke of Elinak family had a triangular ornament made of polished black obsidian.

Charlotte smiled briefly as she looked at the mirror-like shiny ornament. It meant ‘permanent ownership’ of the seat.

“Take it if you like it.”

Matiel said as he sat down in the chair.

Charlotte pressed the pointed part of the triangle gently with her fingertip.

Along with a slight pain, she felt a bit of pleasure.

In that state, she felt the gazes pouring on her for a moment.

Charlotte couldn’t help but notice that as soon as the two of them, or more precisely, she appeared in the Duke of Elinak’s box seat, the atmosphere around them changed.

Curiosity, interest, envy, contempt… The many emotions of strangers stabbed, licked, and groped Charlotte. It was very passionate.