After helping the thief get up after being knocked out the couple got back to what they were doing before, however this time Esme was distracted.
"That was magic wasn't it, you used magic!"
She said in a whisper, her voice filled with curiosity and excitement. She wanted him to tell her everything he knew.
It wasn't necessary that she whisper however since Arthur had instructed not to say magic out loud earlier, she figured it would be prudent to continue doing so.
Magic wasn't something that was kept secret from the masses, in fact it was the opposite, it would invite too much attention.
"Well yes and no, Nobody in this current era can use magic the same way mages of old used to."
He answered.
"You produced electricity through your hands, that was magic"
She insisted, although she would admit that she did not know much about magic, the Palace library didn't have many books delving deep into the topic, however much like most people she had a basic understanding of what magic is supposed to look like, and without a doubt what Arthur did was magic.
"It's a magic skill, not magic. Aren't we out here shopping?"
He asked as he noticed that she was getting a bit distracted by his use of magic.
"Is it forbidden to talk about magic, I apologize if–"
Seeing that he was insistent on dodging the topic Esme was quick to apologise for her own persistence on the matter. Arthur noticed how her form seemed to quickly shrink and her mood changed to be more neutral.
"It's not forbidden, it's just that you never know who's listening. Too many people are interested in something like magic and I'd rather not be forced to deal with them"
He explained and she let out an "oh" quickly understanding what he meant. If she recalled one of the Marquis who frequented the Palace was obsessed with magic items. So it wasn't hard to believe some people were also obsessed with magic.
"Now then, we're supposed to be shopping, or did you forget about that?"
"I didn't forget, magic is just more Interesting"
She said before pointing at the store they were looking for. Demonstrating to him that her attention was not so easily taken away.
"See, I wasn't distracted"
She said with a proud smile on her face.
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[Outer parts of the capital – The slums]
Within the confines of a dimly lit room, that had no windows and only a single door made from dark brown hardwood that blended well with the dimness of the room.
From the fact that the room had no windows, one would be correct to assume that it was underground, and from the stench of blood that seeped from within its walls and floor that assumption would be correct.
Currently, within said room, a man was sitting tied to an iron chair, his ankles chained to the legs of the chair and his hands strapped to the armrests. He was naked but he had no visible scars on his body he just looked to be extremely thin for an adult male.
"PLEASE PLEASE!!! I SWEAR I'LL PAY YOU BACK!! PLEASE SPARE ME, I PROMISE I'LL PAY YOU!!"
He screamed at the top of his lungs, as he also tried his best to free himself from the chair but all he could accomplish was rattling the iron chains that held him down. Even in the event it wasn't chains that tied him down, his body lacked so much muscle that a thin rope would have been enough to keep him restrained.
"Why in Sol's name would I ever do that?"
Bulat questioned as he looked at the drug addict before him, his eyes looking at the man with a detached gaze that showed no emotion, no empathy, or compassion. They were cold as ice, displaying clearly that he was a killer at heart, despite his portly appearance.
"You don't have anything worth anything, no items, not smart, and thanks to blue Crystal, you can't even be a source of labor. In other words, you're useless"
Bulat explained with disappointment in his eyes, if he had any emotion at this moment, it would be anger, anger at the fact that blue crystal was not a drug he sold and thus could not make money from it. It was one of those money-making ideas that someone who isn't him thought of, which was in itself upsetting.
"Honestly, giving your corpse to the doctor would be more profitable but tell me what exactly do you have that can make me money?"
"Please!! I'm sorry I can find a job or do something like information gathering, please! Please don't kill me!!"
The desperation in the man was clear and present, his voice even began to crack as if he was about to cry, however, Bulat was unmoved instead he took out a flintlock pistol from within his coat.
"PLEASE!! I PROMISE I'LL PAY YOU BACK!!"
The moment he laid eyes on the gun the man began to shout once more, struggling even more to try and get away however all he managed to do was rattle the chains.
"Nobles enjoy their lavish lifestyle because they get a constant stream of money from the taxes they take from the commoners and a commoner living outside these slums enjoys his lifestyle because he gets income from his work. However, if the commoner cannot work, he no longer gets to enjoy the lifestyle he's been living"
He began as he steadily pointed the pistol at the man before him.
"This is true for nobles as well, in the event that the commoners decided not to pay their taxes, the nobles lose all their wealth"
He continued, although he was aware that the common folk not paying their taxes was unlikely, since the nobility had the law on their side but he didn't need to explain that to get his point across.
"What I'm trying to get at here is that money is important, it's what truly separates us as people. Money decides the kind of life and lifestyle you can live. You are a slumrat addicted to drugs because you lack money, I am what I am today because I have money, and because I have money, I can do what I wish with the likes of you"
"PLEASE I CA–"
There was a spark of bright yellow flame that ignited the moment the trigger was pulled and the booming sound of the gun silenced the man, refusing to allow him to finish whatever words he was going to say.
The room was an underground basement, any sound would be muffled and would not travel very far, however even if that wasn't the case, they were in the heart of the slums, no one bothered to investigate anything here not unless they wished to get killed themselves.
It also helped that Bulat had the city guards on payroll.
The bullet from the gun had pierced straight through the man's head, creating a round hole through the skull and blood spilled and dripped down the slumped head onto the ground.
Without much as a word from Bulat, the door opened and two men entered, wearing pitch black disposable clothing to burn once they've finished cleaning up the mess.
With his work done Bulat let the two men do what he was paying them for and left. He didn't like paying people money but he knew he had to pay someone for these kinds of things.