There was something melancholic about that night, or at least Dailah felt so as she left the public bathhouse, looking up to the scant stars in the sky that managed to shine through the city lights.

In all likelihood, she was just tired.

It was a bathhouse located on Epicure Street, right in front of a small plaza where a fountain stood in the middle. The place was bright and busy even at such an hour. Although it wasn't her first time coming here at night, she never actively partook in its activities like now besides buying a few foodstuffs and having quick meals.

Thankfully, both she and Scariot had intact changes of clothes available. They were able to wash away the sewer grime and their sweat without much worry.

"This place isn't too bad." - Her partner said as she came out of the building behind her - "I wish they offered 'special' services however."

By 'special services', she meant having a man help them wash their bodies, possibly with a happy ending. The fact that Dailah was aware such a thing existed at all shows just how much time she had been spending with this woman.

"You truly are a deviant Scariot..."

"I'm a perfectly normal woman. You're just too much of a maiden."

Looking back at her, Scariot's attire was slightly different from the usual. She wore no corset nor any belt to hoister her guns, just her usual white shirt and black pants. Even back when they were camping by the sewers she still used her usual outfit.

"Why do you stare so much? I have no interest in women just so you know."

"...can i take by your sloppy garments that you plan to get wasted?"

It would certainly be uncomfortable to get drunk while wearing something stuffy.

"I'll try my best to. No promises." - She said while giving a shrug - "I also suggest you put away that hat. You'll certainly lose it after a few shots."

Dailah took off her hat, calmly observing it in her hands. The most recognizable symbol of a witch. Her stay here hadn't been long but it was almost as if it was part of her by now.

"Didn't you say you weren't fond of alcohol?" - She questioned, stashing away the item into Mr. Crowley's saddlebag. - "It's really difficult to figure you out at times."

"Alcohol to me is like trying to court an irascible man." - The woman crossed her arms, giving off a smug grin as if proud of her analogy. - "The end result is desirable but requires far too much effort. And it may still bite me in the buttocks if i'm not careful."

"...wouldn't you like that though?"

"Oh? Is that a dirty joke i hear?"

"Shut up."

They both set out amidst the crowd, not even bothering to mount the crowley. Beulah's bar was within walking distance and they wanted to take things slowly. This outing was supposed to give some respite to their minds after all.

"Do people in this city never sleep...?" - Dailah asked as she observed the streets, still bustling with life despite the sun having been long gone.

"It's the only time they have for themselves. A lot of them work throughout the entire day, spending the fraction of existence they have left on a bed is too wasteful."

"That sounds like an awful way to live."

"Aren't we one of them?"

"I suppose..."

Dailah's voice trailed off as she thought back to her life in the Nineteenth village. She certainly didn't spend as much time working as she did now, but that could be attributed to her being a kid who was taken care of by adults in the village.

What about her mother? Her job mostly came in bursts, where she'd spend quite some time holed up in her special kitchen while preparing the merchandise. But even outside of that she'd still do things like hunt, cook meals, tend to their garden with a few vegetables and spices and so on.

The money villagers made wasn't enough to cover their living costs, so they still relied on other sources for food or on their own manual work. Of course, there was also the need to pay tributes, which could be done directly with money and goods or in the form of some service to the city, with said service being heavily taxed.

Thinking about it carefully, a life in the village wouldn't have been any more leisurely than her current one, if a little less dangerous. Women were cursed to work no matter what, so it seems.

"...being born a man would've been nice." - Dailah muttered to herself as they walked through the familiar back alley.

"As if! Men have their own problems to deal with." - Scariot said, opening the doors to the bar. - "Maisie! Today will be a dawn of spirits. Prepare some vodka!"

"Understood!" - the barwoman, Maisie, answered to the witch's shout as she crouched, disappearing behind the counter.

As the customers threw a few jests and whistles at her announcement, Dailah considered her partner's previous words. Truth to be told, she had no idea how men led their lives. Or rather, she had barely seen any, at most catching sight of them from a distance.

All of her knowledge of males came from books or what other people narrated. The impression she always got was that they could live comfortably covering for their women or by just providing babies every now and then.

Sitting in the bar, Scariot asked the girl.

"How much experience with drinking do you have Dailah?"

"Sampled a couple of liquors, drank a bit of black beer... That's about it."

Maisie got up and put a bottle in front of the two, along with two cups.

"One bottle? I want to be spirited away Maisie, not alleviate a sore throat. Bring two more at least." - She said, half in jest.

"I only have two hands Scariot. Maybe if you lent me some of that witch power of yours i could start levitating things around."

"I wish i had that much coordination." - Rolling her eyes, she added - "Also, we have a virgin here. Make sure to bring a pineapple."

Virgin?

"One pineapple for the virgin it is!"

Going through the back door, Maisie left the bar alone with the two.

"Why a pineapple...?"

"It's just a tradition, don't think too much about it."

Shortly the woman came back with an entire pineapple in her hands, placing it on the counter along with a large knife and a plate.

"Now listen Dailah" - She picked up the fruit in her hands. - "What you're gonna do is put one slice of the pineapple in your mouth and then take a shot of vodka."

Breaking off the crown, she proceeded to peel its skin. Then cut it into pieces.

"There you go."

Dailah picked up a slice staring at it intently. Maisie filled their cups, taking some distance immediately after for reasons unbeknownst to the girl.

After some hesitation, she threw the piece into her mouth and took a shot of her now-filled cup.

"Hmugu....."

She held the liquid in her mouth for a few moments, then-

".....PFFFFFFTTTTT!"

"BWHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA!"

"Oh dear..."

She spilled everything onto the counter as her nose and eyes burned, much to Scariot's amusement.

"This is awful! Cough!" - Dailah shouted, her eyes tearing up - "Do people drink this thing!? Cough! Cough!"

"Ha ha ha..." - Wiping the corners of her eyes, her drinking partner explained - "The pineapple is supposed to make it easier, but i suppose this is still too much for a virgin huh..."

Picking up her own cup, at least three times larger than Dailah's, she gulped down all of its contents at once.

"Just how in the...." - Dailah gawked at this action.

Finishing up in a single swig, she slammed the cup back into the counter.

"Experience, my friend." - She filled up her cup again - "And a mid-rank witch's body. If i don't do this much i might as well be drinking water."

She gulped everything down at once like before, even letting out a "Pwah!" by the end.

"Getting drunk alone isn't fun Dailah." - Her face was ever so slightly flushed as she said this. - "Go on, try again."

"Take it slowly my dear." - Maisie said as she cleaned the balcony Dailah dirtied earlier. - "No need to rush on your first time."

As instructed, after putting a slice of pineapple in her mouth and filling up her cup, she took a small sip instead of pouring down the content in her throat.

"Hm...." *gulp* "...blegh."

It still tasted awful. Thankfully she managed to swallow everything this time.

"Good, good. Keep this up and this won't be last the virginity you will lose in this lifetime." - Scariot said with a slightly more flushed face, now holding the bottle in her hands.

"Virgin this, 'special service' that, are you a pervert after all?" - Dailah answered, slightly lightheaded.

"It's not good to hold back on your nature too much my girl." - Taking another sip from the bottle, she continued. - "Otherwise, one day it'll all come out at once. You could even say i'm saving you from becoming a sex offender by inspiring you to loosen up."

Dubiously looking over her friend, she took a larger sip along with another slice of the fruit. She didn't like it, but there was this unspoken need to at least finish her cup.

"I know how to control myself."

"Pfah! That's what they all say. Did you even talk to a man before?"

Scariot shoved the bottle in the girl's direction, her face now a little more red than before.

"...yes."

"At least five exchanges of words i mean."

"...."

The woman shook the bottle in her hands, then continued to gulp its contents down some more.

"This is why you'll die a maiden at this rate."

"I-i'll just marry into a unit as normal..." - Dailah quipped back. - "I can do that much at least."

Scariot turned to the girl, her eyes were slightly dazed.

"Don't even try, you'll just end up miserable."

Maisie rolled her eyes, silently muttering "There it is...".

"Do you know why they forbid- *hic* forbid prostitution in Stone City?"

Is this what drunk Scariot is like?

"W-Well.."

"Control! I tell ya! Can't let the peasants have kids on their own, can they? *hic*" - The woman waved her mostly empty bottle around, Dailah didn't notice earlier but this was her second one already. - "Nooooo, be a good little runt and marry into a unit! Let the succubi of a first wife control every aspect of your life. You want children don't, you? So behave!"

She finished her bottle, then snatched the one Dailah was drinking from, still semi-full.

The girl pleaded as she turned to the barwoman.

"I-is it really fine to leave her like this, Ms. Maisie....?"

"I would've stopped her if it was a normal person." - She shrugged. - "But this is a witch we're talking about here. Well, i know her limit by now so i'll cut her off when the time comes."

"You think this is drunk Dailah!? You ain't seen anything yet! Maisie! Can't you see the girl is out of booze!?"

The barwoman sighed as she reached out for another bottle below the counter. This time however it seems to be from a different brand.

"This one is weaker than the previous one. You should be able to handle it better my dear, but try not overdoing it." - She pointed towards Scariot with her thumb. - "You don't wanna end up like her, do you?"

"Hah! You two have no idea how blessed the two of you are." - The drunkard said as she finished another large sip. - "You can get intoxicated with just a few shots whereas i have to gulp these down in order to feel anything."

Maisie crossed her arms as she answered Scariot.

"Seems like a small price to pay in exchange for superpowers."

"You have no idea woman *hic*. What's even so great about these powers? My usual work doesn't even require me to use them. Instead, what it does is get me is even more work to do *hic*. Usually the dangerous kind like this time."

Scariot gulped the rest of the bottle before continuing. Now her face was visibly red, her eyes glazed over.

"Can't even say they make me feel safer. Any day some mad woman with a gun can put a bullet in the back of my head when i'm not looking, and then i'll just drop dead like everyone else."

Dailah silently listened to the conversation as she filled her cup. It was an unconscious action as she didn't really plan to drink much initially.

"It does sound awful when you put it that way... but still, it isn't as if you're forced to live as a witch is it?"

"Easier said than done *hic*. Any witch in the mid-ranks or higher who tries to live normally better be really good at hiding their true nature."

Dailah's mildly hazed mind perked up at that comment.

"What happens to them... to those." - The girl noticed her words were starting to slur.

Scariot turned to the girl, giving her a meaningful smirk.

"What do you think?"

At that moment, Maisie interjected between the two.

"Well, i think you two already had enough."

"Haaah? The girl barely drank half a bottle! She may be a virgin but she's still something of a witch you know!"

"It's still her precious first time. It's good to take it slowly or tomorrow morning will be painful for her."

Despite their moronic exchange, Dailah didn't think she was all that much under the effect. However, she did need to go to the bathroom.

As she got off her stool...

"Ah..."

"Woah."

"Careful dear."

She wobbled on her feet, almost falling down. Hadn't she balanced herself on the counter her face would be kissing the floor right now.

"There it is Scariot... better end things here."

"...i expected more from you Dailah..."

"...s-shut up. I-I'm...

"I'm ferpectly fine!"

XXX

Two drunkards walked out of a bar. One of them was carrying slices of pineapple in a piece of cardboard for reasons only they could understand.

"C-Can you give those to Mr. Crowley...? I need some fresh air."

Dailah handed the cardboard in her hand to Scariot. Meanwhile she couldn't help but notice the giant bird's judgemental stare.

It just happened alright? No need to make that face.

Getting drunk was not at all what the girl was expecting. She thought she'd start screaming obscenities and singing in the middle of the road. Instead, she felt as if she was a mini-Dailah controlling a bigger body from inside her head, but still perfectly capable of rational thought and actions, if with a bit of a muddied mind.

As she walked off further into the alley, she noticed a small tin can sitting upside down right in the middle of the small road. Absently minded she decided to give it a good kick.

"...! Argh!!!"

She held on to her hurt left foot. Turns out there was a really heavy rock inside of it.

Just which manner of snollygoster...!

"Ah! You fell for that, huh?" - Her drinking partner shouted from the distance. - "Classic prank from the kids around here. No matter how many times they do it, someone still falls for it."

"And no one thought of disciplining these brats?!" - The girl yelled as she limped her way back to the crowley.

"It's just some kids." - She dismissed with a shrug - "...and the regulars always get a good laugh out of it so they don't really do anything."

Looking at the inside of the bar from the entrance, she noticed some people throwing a few jests her way. The only upside of this situation is that it helped her sober up a little.

"Anyway, how about sleeping at my place?" - The woman said, face still flushed from the alcohol. - "You said your landlady always locks up late at night didn't you?"

Indeed. And Dailah had also told her she wouldn't return for a few days so she wasn't expecting her to come back.

"Yes... i'll take you up on that."

They both got up in the crowley. Naturally, neither woman was in any condition to guide the bird, but he should know the way to Scariot's house as Dailah had taken her partner there a few times already.

"I'm counting on you, Mr. Crowley!"

The creature beat its wings as if to signal its acknowledgment. With a swift move of the leg, it began walking out of the area.

In the cold night, feeling the bumps of the mount's pace, Dailah's mind wandered back to their conversation at the bar.

"...you didn't answer my question from earlier Scariot."

Scariot gave a curious look.

"You mean what happens to witches who hide their powers?"

Dailah nodded.

Scariot prolonged the silence for a few moments, either considering her next words or still having trouble putting her mind in order.

"...it's really not a problem of hiding their powers from public view. It's just that such witches must waive away any form of external protection if they wish to remain hidden. No association backing them, or any type of security besides her own powers."

"And how is that a problem? Most people live their days without security guards surrounding them."

"...Dailah." - Her voice took a more melancholic tone, one that Dailah wasn't used to hearing from her - "What do you think people see when they look at you? On your uniform, carrying that rifle on your back."

Not understanding the question, the girl gave the most obvious answer.

"A witch?"

"Yes." - She nodded solemnly. - "A witch. A powerful existence that can subjugate them under their boot, demand tributes and take away their men on a whim."

Dailah looked over her shoulder with a doubtful look.

"I'm not like that though."

She does her job as she is supposed to. She even risked her life to help defeat a threat like the Rat Lord. There were certainly witches out there who abused their powers in order to get what they wanted, many of such existed throughout history, but she could confidently say she wasn't one of them.

To begin with, as a low-rank, she was far too weak to act vilely as she pleased. She'd be no different from a common criminal wandering the streets even if she fell from grace.

"They don't care Dailah." - Scariot gazed into her eyes from behind her, cheek still reddish from the earlier drinks. - "All witches in Stone City and beyond in its numbered villages could turn into the noblest of people by the end of this week and they still wouldn't care."

Scariot turned her eyes ahead as if observing something invisible.

"A woman suffers at the hands of a witch. She'll tell her tale to her daughters, who in turn will recount it the her own daughters, who will then spread it to their friends and other families, families who might have had terrible experiences of their own.

"Then they'll take a look at you and see it. No matter your goodness, no matter your weaknesses.

"A witch. That's all you'll be."

"..."

"...a witch with nothing to protect them is naught but a target of such old resentments."

Dailah turned to her front once again as Scariot fell silent.

The crowley walked in the busy streets, drawing a few eyes upon them as usual, reflecting the lights of the glowstones.

She did not know what those eyes were thinking. She couldn't afford to care either.

The road ahead was still a long one.