C143: Meeting with Otto
The next day, Monday, Izzy controlled Arnold as he made his way back toward the village. The morning air was quite dry, biting through his clothing as he navigated the forest path.
‘Today is the last day’
At least, it was the last day that Izzy knew she was safe.
Most of the information left behind within the black monument pointed out that, by Tuesday, some entity would begin to actively hunt her down in this forest.
‘I need to stock up some survival tools first’
Traps, supplies, potential allies, or anything that might ensure their survival. Izzy had no intention of leaving the forest until she understood how to escape safely.
‘Maybe I can call the inspector for help by tomorrow.’ The thought crossed her mind, but she did not place much faith in it.
In the previous iteration, every single one of those church Inspectors had die.
‘still need to rely on myself…’ Izzy sighed, while guiding Arnold and walking down the road to the village.
As Arnold entered the village proper, Izzy saw the little girl still actively selling fresh flowers and offering cheerful assistance to the passing villagers.
Mary.
“Pray, beautiful lady, this bloom shall suit you most exquisitely!” Mary chirped, curtsying to a passing woman.
“My thanks to you, Mary,” the woman replied warmly, accepting the small stem.
‘She’s skipping class. Probably to avoid Victor.’
Izzy watched the girl through Arnold’s Field Vision while subtly guiding Arnold to avoid her line of sight.
Familiarizing herself with Mary seemed highly ill-advised, since the records of the monument indicated that most of their deaths in previous iterations appeared to be related to the kid in one way or another.
Arnold continued walking while Izzy quietly observed the girl from afar.
It was strange. In their first iteration, by tomorrow, the little girl would go missing.
The recorded reason was a severe altercation with her father, or at least that was the explanation Miss Opal had offered to Arnold during their conversation.
Yet, looking back at last night, a lingering question hovered on her mind.
‘Would that happy family really fall apart by tomorrow?’
The image felt difficult to reconcile.
Then again, appearances meant very little in this village.
Well, they still planned to conduct another body-snatching operation tonight. Taking a brief look again would not hurt.
With that thought, Izzy redirected her attention back to Arnold and guided him toward another destination.
—
Arnold eventually stopped in front of Otto’s shop.
‘Another old man.’ A sigh escaped his lips.
The more he thought about it, the stranger it became. Neither of the previous iterations had mentioned Otto much.
Why? Was it because he was far more ordinary than Arnold expected? Other than the local rumors of him possessing magical herbs, there seemed to be no information regarding his background.
Arnold furrowed his brows. He closed his eyes briefly.
‘My intuition, help!’
A lingering sense of unease surfaced. Something telling him that this old man was not nearly as ordinary as he appeared.
Arnold opened his eyes again. He shook his head to clear his doubts and walked directly into the shop.
He pushed the wooden door open, the small brass bell mounted above it chiming with a dull sound as he stepped inside the general store.
The wooden door creaked on weathered hinges as he stepped inside, allowing a cool draft to follow him. The breeze carried with it the scents of damp earth and fresh nature.
The store sold daily necessities: preserved dried foods, household utensils, household supplies, herbs, Medicines and remedies.
Yet compared to Arnold's expectations of a normal village store, this place felt unusual.
Inside, despite the rundown exterior, the shop was surprisingly bright.
Sunlight poured in through windows, illuminating rows of vibrant potted plants arranged across shelves and wooden stands.
The entire atmosphere was utterly dominated by the lush greenery. Thick vines crawled up the wooden supports, their leaves looking remarkably glossy, healthy. Flowers bloomed from hanging pots suspended overhead, their broad leaves stretching toward the sunlight.
Rows of ordinary merchandise filled the remaining spaces: sacks of grain stacked neatly in the corners, glass jars of dried herbs and powdered spices sealed tightly, coils of rope hung from hooks, clay bottles, candles, lye soap, sewing needles, bundles of woven cloth,...
At the front stood a modest wooden counter, almost covered in vines and small pots of aromatic herbs, as if the plants themselves had slowly claimed the wood for their own.
‘What is this? A greenhouse?’
The place reminded him of the traditional herbal medicine stores from his previous world. The so-called “Eastern medicine stores” he had observed in his former world.
The environment was far too... full of vibrant life. The air felt humid and sweet with the scent of blooming pollen. Even the floor beneath his boots was carpeted in soft, living green grass rather than common wooden floorboards.
The ground covered in grass, pots scattered everywhere, and vines curled across walls and ceilings. Tiny sprouts growing between cracks in the wood. Life flourished in every corner.
‘this feeling…’ It felt familiar.
It was as though Arnold had somehow wandered into another place, like in the middle of the forest.
Like that one time Izzy was stuck inside that entity's realm.
Arnold looked around, scanning the interior, but saw no sign of any human presence.
He expanded his Field Vision to locate the shopkeeper.
But once again, he could not see him.
‘...’
“Lad.”
A dry, gentle voice rang out from directly behind him.
“...”
Arnold spun around to face the speaker. Somehow, he had expected a sudden appearance, though he couldn’t explain why.
‘Did I really not meet him in my previous iterations?’ The black monument had not recorded him, but for some reason, Arnold doubted it.
Standing behind him was a short, hunchbacked old man. His bald pate shone beneath the filtered sunlight, and his face was a map of wrinkles. A long white beard spilled down his chest.
Arnold had not detected his approach. Not a single sound, and the old man's presence had been absent even with his active Field Vision.
Arnold extended his Field Vision again. This time, he could see the old man in his Field Vision.
‘Hmmm.’
The old man wore a simple white shirt, its collar frayed and yellowed with age. His trousers had faded to the color of dust, matching the attire worn by most villagers.
There was nothing extraordinary about him. He looked like any elderly shopkeeper who had spent many years bending over old counters.
The old man leaned upon a quad-cane with four short legs at its base, using it for balance as he shuffled past Arnold.
Arnold hastily stepped aside, watching him carefully.
“Hmmm...” The old man came to a sudden halt, his brow furrowed. His eyes landed on Arnold’s bandaged head, before shifting down to lock onto Arnold's gaze.
“Your eyes. Those are indeed amusing eyes.”
Arnold narrowed his eyes, his posture stiffening with defensive caution.
“What do you mean?”
“Eyes of determination.” The old man made his way behind the vine-draped wooden counter, settling his frail weight onto a low stool, and stroked his beard thoughtfully.
“Now then, lad, what might you need here?”
Arnold stepped closer, one hand resting on the counter.
“Do you possess any knowledge regarding the secrets hidden within this village?”
Otto opened his eyes wide, the hand on his beard stopped mid-motion, his pupils clearing for a brief second.
“Gahaha!” He suddenly burst into a loud laugh, cackling like a madman.
Arnold tilted his head, watching the bizarre old man.
“Gahaha—cough!” The old man’s laughter cut short as he began to wheeze, clutching his chest as a wet, rattling cough overtook him.
After a moment of gasping for breath, he leaned against the counter, his eyes watering from the sudden laught.
“Gahaha, my sincerest apologies, lad. I did not anticipate that you would be quite so unadorned and direct. It came out of nowhere.”
He shook his head in amusement, leaning his hands back onto the brass handle of his cane.
“Of course I possess no such knowledge. Why should I, merely a retired apothecary and humble shopkeeper, have any inkling of the grand designs of such entities?”
“...”
‘He knows something, but refuses to answer.’ Arnold’s eyes narrowed, studying the old man's calm demeanor.
‘Eyes of determination…’ He talked as if he had known Arnold for quite some time, as if he also retained the memories from the previous loops.
Arnold's suspicion grew more prominent.
This was the exact reason he had been skeptical about approaching this store. Every old man he had met so far had been no good.
However, when considering Otto's phrasing, the old man had inadvertently revealed a significant detail.
‘The grand designs of such entities.’ The phrasing implied that the conspiracy hidden inside the village was not orchestrated by a single force, but rather involved multiple forces. They overlapped and interfered with each other.
The Fake Moon was probably only one of them. A small piece of a bigger pond.
“I see you, lad, already have an answer for yourself.” Otto gripped his cane. He turned to shuffle toward the back room. “That’s good.”
“I–” Arnold trailed off.
‘Should I ask for his help?’ He was seriously thinking about this.
Putting aside how mysterious this old man was, he hadn’t acted animosity to Arnold once.
Or did he? The monument rarely mentioned him, so Arnold would assume this old man was not hostile, at least not yet.
After a brief wait filled by the rustling of leaves, the old man emerged from the back room, holding a small leather pouch.
“I doubt you find a use for this, but consider it as a small gesture of goodwill. Use it when the necessity arises.”
Arnold looked down at the pouch.
The moment his gaze touched it, a familiar feeling washed over his mind.
“What is this?” He asked in a suspicious tone.
“And this as well.” However, Otto didn’t answer his question. Instead, he pulled out a pristine white card and tossed it toward Arnold.
Arnold caught it instinctively.
“An invitation of sorts. Once you have settled yourself in the city, seek out the address engraved upon it. You may find what you need there.”
“...” Arnold stared at the card for a long time.
Its surface was smooth and glossy, catching the light as he tilted it between his fingers. On its surface was a simple engraving: a small island rising from the sea, a hill at its center, and atop that hill a triangular flag fluttering in an invisible wind.
“...” Arnold stared at the card in his palm for a long moment. He then looked back up at Otto, a trace of hesitation lingering in his eyes.
“Why do you continue to linger here, young lad? Is there something else you need?”
“Uhh,” Arnold muttered, scratching his cheek as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I’m just asking... if you are a skilled apothecary, do you have any idea how to...” He trailed off, his voice faltering as he debated his question.
After a long pause, he steeled his resolve, clenched his fist, and looked directly at Otto.
“...How to temporarily delay a monthly cycle?”
“Hmm? Delay what now?” Otto raised his eyebrows in bewilderment, his hand freezing on his beard as he questioned his own hearing.
“And, um," Arnold continued, "while you are at it, could you perhaps sell me sanitary pads as well?”
“???”
Otto widened his eyes, speechless.