NOVEL WEB Chapter 48: Chapter 48: Signed: Orleans Wing
"Where the hell was that bastard Rag slacking off?!"
Rena stormed off, cursing under her breath. She told Zhou Yun to tally up the damages himself — every credit would come out of Rag's pay. And if that wasn't enough, she'd take the loss herself if she had to, even if it meant shipping Rag topside and having him converted into a servitor to pay off his debt.
Zhou Yun said he definitely wanted the money, but he'd pass on the servitor. Rag was too ugly — he was afraid he wouldn't be able to sleep at night with that thing around.
Zhou Yun pushed open the iron door, now disfigured by a hideous hole, and stepped inside.
Then he froze.
Everything in the house was neat as before. The bed hadn't been disturbed, the items on the little table were just as he'd left them.
He opened the wardrobe — his clothes had been touched, and a single undershirt was missing. Everything else was intact.
The strangest thing of all was a letter placed on his bedside table.
Weird. Too weird.
Zhou Yun frowned deeply.
He picked up the letter and opened it — only to realize… he couldn't understand it at all.
It was written in an ornate, flowing script, intricate and meticulous. Every letter was aligned perfectly on the yellowed paper. If not for the faint ink marks, Zhou Yun might have thought it was printed.
Squinting, he managed to pick out a few words that resembled words in the local Low Gothic dialect… but most of it was incomprehensible, full of flourishes and complexity.
Compared to this, the Low Gothic of Ashford sounded like some barbarian's mishmash tongue.
And yet…
"This looks… familiar," Zhou Yun muttered.
The letters and words reminded him a little of 3rd millennium English — just much more ornate and convoluted.
But unfortunately, Zhou Yun's English had never been good in school, and after so many years he was only good for nodding yes or shaking his head no.
"That's High Gothic," the winged figure of white light murmured.
"…Huh?"
Zhou Yun's expression twisted.
High Gothic was an official Imperial language, originating from the Age of Technology's Terran America and Pan-Pacific regions. In other words — a heavily embellished and ritualized version of the English from before Zhou Yun's transmigration.
In the Old Night, the North American region had turned into a cluster of hive city federations, and their aristocrats had developed a taste for pointless ceremony. High Gothic was probably born from that.
As a result, the language was so esoteric and difficult that only Ecclesiarchy members, Imperial high officials, and some of the more pretentious nobles bothered to use it. Most people just used whatever hybridized form of Low Gothic was common on their world.
And yet…
"You're telling me some lowlife hive thief left me a letter in High Gothic? And thought I could read it? That's giving me way too much credit…"
Zhou Yun shook his head.
Never mind High Gothic — even if it was written in English, he wouldn't have understood it.
Rena might, though — her family had once been devout Imperial Cultists, and many of the Ecclesiarchy's scriptures were written in High Gothic.
"Want me to read it for you?"
The winged figure chuckled softly. "Though I was born on Baal, as a primarch I was also educated in High Gothic."
"I wonder if Angron ever learned it," Zhou Yun asked curiously.
"…You're being too harsh on him," the figure said after a pause. "That brother of mine was, biologically speaking, mentally handicapped. Expecting him to learn High Gothic is cruel."
"What about Kharn? Didn't he try to teach his father a little, so he could at least attend the Great Crusade war councils?"
"You're being too harsh on Kharn too. If you want him dead, just say so," the figure said dryly.
Then he looked at the letter in Zhou Yun's hand.
"My apologies for visiting your home by force," he read aloud. "I believe your earnings befit your contributions, and so I did not come to steal. Please find enclosed some blood credits as compensation for your door.
"I have a job for you — one that will serve the Emperor and the Imperium, and pay handsomely.
"If you wish to discuss it in detail, meet me tomorrow night at the underhive's District 13, east-side scrapyard.
"For safety, I have written this letter in High Gothic, trusting that you can read this ancient tongue. For safety also, do not share its contents with others.
"Signed: Orleans Wing."
"…Huh?" Zhou Yun tilted his head, dumbfounded. "Orleans Wing?"
Then it hit him.
Orleans Wing was the name the Eager Thief used.
What kind of ridiculous alias was that? Chickens were extinct on Terra — who the hell called himself Orleans Wing?
And if he wasn't here to steal, why did he melt a hole in Zhou Yun's door?
Zhou Yun stared at the envelope, noticing the blood credits tucked inside — a considerate reimbursement for the door.
The more he read, the stranger his expression became.
What really puzzled him, though, was how this Eager Thief thought he could read High Gothic.
"It seems he has some sort of foresight," the winged figure mused. "Perhaps, like me, he sensed something unique about you. But as I've said before — your fate is triple-woven and unclear. He may not see you clearly either.
"You know, High Gothic is basically an over-complicated version of ancient Terran English. You really ought to be able to read at least some of it."
"I've been out of school for years…" Zhou Yun grumbled.
He was growing more and more suspicious of the Eager Thief. The name "Orleans Wing" was not something any typical underhive rat would come up with. There weren't even any KFC Thursdays down here.
Could this be Tzeentch coming back to mess with him? That fast?
Zhou Yun looked down at the letter, shaking his head.
Whether or not it was Tzeentch's corruption, he definitely wasn't going to meet "Orleans Wing" alone.
At minimum, he'd bring two or three hundred men along.
He thought for a moment, then shoved the letter into his dimensional pocket.
[Item: High Gothic Letter]
[Origin: Imperium of the Damned Star System – Ashford – Fridia Hive Underhive]
[Description: A letter written in High Gothic, signed Orleans Wing — reminiscent of the deliciousness of a KFC Thursday.]
[Production Date: 998.M41]
[Condition: Opened]
[Value: 0.001 credits]
No corruption detected.
Zhou Yun had gotten into the habit after last time — anything he put in the dimensional pocket showed its information, and if it was corrupted, he'd know right away.
Still uneasy, he checked every item in his little home one by one before finally relaxing a little.
He found a piece of synthetic board to cover the hole in the door, then lay down on the bed.
0.3 seconds later, Zhou Yun was asleep.
(End of Chapter)
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