Chapter 38: "Opening Blow!"
"So you're sure there's no magic school called Hogwarts in this world?"
"Never heard of it," Amos thought for a moment, then shook his head decisively. "Magic is something only certain exceptional beings are qualified to learn and control. How could there be a school specifically to teach that?"
"What about Kamar-Taj? Have you heard of the Sorcerer Supreme?" Rango continued to press.
"I know about the Supreme Witch, but the Sorcerer Supreme..."
Amos spread his hands, looking confused. "I've lived for so many years and I've never seen a sorcerer. As for so-called magic, it's just some parlor tricks like controlling fire and water; there's nothing special about it."
"OK,"
Rango nodded slightly. After talking with Amos all night, he had gained a very profound understanding of the world.
It was terrible; hidden beneath the surface of the mortal world were all sorts of chaotic monsters and demons, filled with all sorts of unbelievable beings.
However, it was comforting that the world maintained a delicate balance with those dark elements because of the existence of certain special organizations.
Of course, simply listening to others wasn't enough. To fully utilize the system's progress bar, he needed to experience these things firsthand.
And tonight presented just such an opportunity.
As dawn broke, Amos yawned, watching the morning light stream through the window.
"We'll talk about it later. I need to go back and get some sleep now."
With that, the old man finished the last puff of his cigar, exhaled a long cloud of smoke, and went upstairs to his display case.
After he left, Rango glanced at his watch. It was exactly six o'clock. If all went well, the curator would be arriving in half an hour.
Emma, who had been sleeping in the chair, woke up. She glanced at the jacket Rango had draped over her, then pushed it away and turned her head away, unwilling to meet his gaze.
Witnessing this, Rango smiled helplessly and knelt down beside her.
"Emma?"
Emma didn't respond, remaining silent with her back to him.
Seeing this, Rango didn't force her. He simply sat gently beside her, took her hand, and revealed the whole truth that Amos had told him the night before.
Emma, who had remained unmoved until she heard that her mother had died as a demonic sacrifice, trembled slightly.
Then, hearing that she would become a demon's puppet, her feigned composure crumbled instantly.
Emma turned her head, her eyes filled with disbelief. "Do demons really exist in this world?"
"Yes, and not just demons, but all sorts of other strange and extremely dangerous creatures,"
Rango answered honestly. "We even keep dozens of them at home. If you're interested, I can have them show themselves to you when we get back."
Emma's face was filled with shock; she stood there speechless for a long time.
Then, remembering Rango's mention of her mother being killed by a demon, a faint sadness welled up in her heart. Her eyes felt slightly dry, but she couldn't shed a tear.
"Why?"
She looked up, her eyes filled with confusion and bewilderment. "Why do people grieve when someone dies? Isn't this something that will happen to everyone sooner or later?"
Rango paused, pondered for a moment, and then slowly said, "Your parents who raised you, the elders who cared for you, the friends who accompanied you, the lovers you cherished—the passing of any close person means they become a unique, unrepeatable presence in your life, never to be replaced, never to connect with again."
"Perhaps the reason for the grief is the fear of forgetting them."
At this point, Rango asked gently, "If I were gone someday, would you be sad?"
Upon hearing this, Emma glanced at Rango with a complicated expression and quietly shook her head. "I...I don't know."
Rango smiled, not dwelling on the topic, and instead told Emma about the three safe places Amos had mentioned.
"For your safety, and the safety of your classmates and teachers, I suggest you seriously consider these three places. Of course, if you don't want to go, I won't force you, but from now on, you'll have to stay by my side 24/7."
Rango patted the girl's head, not pressuring her to decide immediately. He had a feeling that Emma wouldn't make a choice that would disappoint him this time.
Not long after, after he had done a final patrol of the museum, the curator pushed open the door precisely on time.
However, as soon as he entered, his expression turned somewhat unpleasant. Opposite him, Rango was wearing an ingratiating smile, looking at him hopefully.
It was obvious that he was going to ask for something again.
In the suburbs, a Ford F-650 was speeding along the highway.
Remembering the curator's earlier outburst followed by his reluctant approval of leave, Rango smiled contentedly and turned up the car stereo.
If there was one benefactor Rango had encountered since returning to New York, the curator was undoubtedly number one.
This old man, though a bit cranky and demanding, was a genuinely good person. Every time Rango spoke with him, he felt like he was facing J. Jonah Jameson from the Daily Bugle.
Sure enough, Rango had just taken leave to go to Los Angeles, and less than two days after his return, the curator had approved another leave request.
Of course, Ted covering for him was definitely a factor.
Half an hour later, following the address Cindy had given him, Rango finally arrived at his destination after many twists and turns:
a mansion standing in the suburbs.
Calling it a mansion was accurate; it was more like a luxurious estate.
It was estimated to be five stories high, and its footprint was four or five times larger than Rango's haunted house.
Upon entering the grounds, two rows of tall cypress trees stood like sentinels on either side, and an elaborate fountain sculpture gleamed in the sunlight at the main entrance.
All of this showcased the owner's immense wealth.
After jumping out of the car, Rango, observing everything before him, didn't rush inside. Instead, he lit a cigarette and carefully recalled what Cindy had told him about the place.
He tried to remember the important details, only to realize she'd been rather vague about what exactly went on here.
It was apparently some kind of exclusive retreat, full of eccentric behavior.
However, the amenities were supposed to be quite interesting.
Shrugging, Rango slung a shoulder bag over his shoulder and quickly walked to the gate.
But just as he was about to ring the doorbell, his hand involuntarily froze in mid-air.
The so-called "doorbell" hanging on the gate was a lifelike relief sculpture shaped like... well, it was anatomically suggestive, with two spherical ornaments below it.
After a moment of silence, Rango sighed and still reached for the doorbell.
Ding dong.
"Ah ha~"
As expected, each time he pressed it, the relief emitted a suggestive sound.
Ding dong, ding dong ding dong—!
"Ha~~ slow down!"
(End of Chapter)
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