Chapter 44: Madame Daria

A few days later, when Hesta was once again led away from the base, Mr. Eru did not appear. Chiba was alone, waiting in the parking lot in the car as usual.

As Hesta approached, Chiba, sitting in the driver's seat, waved casually to greet her. Hesta was startled at first, and then her eyes widened in complete astonishment.

During their last meeting, Chiba's left sleeve had been entirely empty, but now, a genuine, flesh-like arm had grown back in its place.

Even more incredible was that this previously severed left arm was not a steel or wooden prosthesis. Hesta watched as Chiba skillfully pulled a cigarette from her pocket, then cupped her half-closed fist around the lighter to shield the flame from the wind... It functioned completely like a normal person's five fingers.

"Why are you just standing there? Get in the car," Chiba called out again.

Hesta recovered her wits, walked over, and opened the car door. As she sat down, her gaze swept toward Chiba's right leg—sure enough, the right leg had grown back as well.

Hesta swallowed hard. "Miss... Chiba."

"Hmm?"

"Can I... touch your hand?"

Chiba was puzzled, but still extended her right hand.

"No, the left hand."

Chiba switched hands. Frowning slightly, Hesta gently grasped this lifelike left hand.

Looking closely now, although this hand possessed faintly pale bones and slightly protruding blue veins just like an ordinary person's, with a careful study, it was not difficult to perceive the subtle difference between it and true living flesh.

Past memories suddenly flashed through Hesta's mind. In fact, as early as when she first met Chiba and shook her hand, she had already sensed that the texture of Chiba's hand was extraordinarily unusual.

It was just that their contact back then had been too brief for her to dwell on it.

Chiba withdrew her hand. "The old one broke, so I replaced it with a new one."

Hesta could not find the words to describe her shock. To her, this scene was no less than a miracle. She believed that if Sister Golding were present, she would certainly gasp in horror and point out angrily that this was an act of blasphemy.

Yet, Chiba's tone was as casual as if she were talking about an umbrella, a clock, or a pair of glasses—perhaps in Miss Chiba's eyes, the human body was no different from these objects.

Hesta furrowed her brow. "How on earth is something like this even possible...?"

With the cigarette between her lips and hands gripping the steering wheel, Chiba expertly put the car in reverse. "Ancient technology."

"...Does Miss Chiba mean the Golden Age?"

"Mmm-hmm."

The car sped toward the city center.

Today is Sunday, and the entire city is exceptionally quiet. Most shops are closed, and there are hardly any pedestrians on the streets, save for the churches with their doors open, where people can occasionally be seen going in and out.

Hesta looked out the window. "There are no protests today."

"Protests are rare on weekends. Weekends are for resting," Chiba said softly. "Unless they are protesting their own wages and benefits, you won't get a crowd to march through the streets on a Sunday."

As usual, Chiba parked the car on the street where the White Steamer was located.

Aside from the White Steamer, not a single storefront on this street was open. Rolling metal shutters covered all the colorful wooden and glass doors, but these iron sheets were entirely covered with various graffiti paintings, looking from a distance like an extended gallery wall.

"What I like most about the White Steamer is that it stays open on Sundays as usual." Chiba unbuckled her seatbelt. "Let's go, let's get something to eat."

The two pushed open the door and entered. Hesta quickly noticed that standing behind the cash register today was a plump woman she had never seen before. She was not very tall, rather full-figured, and probably about the same age as Mrs. Lavitte.

"Chiba?" The plump woman recognized her at a glance. "You're back?"

"I've been back since last month," Chiba replied. "I've come by your place several times, but you were never here."

The woman let out a hearty laugh. "I'm planning to open a branch in the new city of Yask in the south, and I've been looking at suitable storefronts over there recently, so I rarely come this way."

The plump woman walked out from behind the counter. She was wearing a green-and-white checkered dress, a light green scarf tied around her head, and her waist-length black hair was braided into a thick, heavy plait pinned at the back of her head, making her look very capable.

At first glance, the plump woman's black hair and brown eyes instantly reminded Hesta of Boheng, and she couldn't help but wonder if this woman also came from the Fourteenth District.

Yet her accent bore some resemblance to Liz's.

The plump woman exchanged pleasantries with Chiba, and as the three of them chatted, they sat down at a table by the window.

Chiba leaned back against her chair, reaching one hand around her head to play with her ponytail. "Take my word for it, now is not a good time to open a branch."

The plump woman frowned. "I've prepared everything. Why wouldn't it be?"

"In short, you'd better hold off for a while." Chiba clearly did not want to elaborate further. She turned to Hesta. "This is Mrs. Daria, the owner of the White Steamer."

Then, pointing at Hesta, she introduced her to Daria. "This is a distant relative of Eru. She's been staying at my place for the past two months. Her name is—" Chiba paused slightly, "Alice."

"Hello, Alice." Mrs. Daria extended her hand toward Hesta. "Your hair is so pretty, it looks just like ivory-white silk."

Realizing that Chiba had given a false name, Hesta felt somewhat nervous. She instinctively shifted away from Mrs. Daria to prevent her from discovering the wig she was wearing if she got too close.

"Thank you." Hesta shook the other woman's hand lightly. "Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Daria."

"Where are you from, little girl? Are you from the same place as Mr. Eru?"

"Mm."

Hesta had no idea where Mr. Eru's hometown was, but aside from nodding, she had no better response at the moment.

Daria smiled. "That's very close to where we're from. Have you ever been to Vilyuchinsky?"

"Where?"

"The Vilyuchinsky Wasteland," Mrs. Daria said. "I used to live there. I haven't been back once in all these dozen or so years since I came to Tany—it's just too far, and traveling back isn't convenient."

Hesta did not know how to answer. She looked at Chiba—who seemed to have no intention of taking over the conversation for her.

So Hesta thought for a moment and said, "I rarely had the chance to go outside before. The outside isn't safe."

This answer seemed to convince Mrs. Daria deeply. The gaze she directed at Hesta instantly filled with a bit more tenderness. "That's true. Living in the wasteland is risky after all. Who could have imagined, looking back a few years, that Askiya would meet with such a disaster? Such a prosperous place... I almost settled down right there."

Hesta raised her head. "You've been to Askiya?"

"Of course I have. Most of the earliest batch of wasteland residents who came to Vilyuchinsky migrated from Askiya, you know."

Mrs. Daria was very talkative, chattering endlessly about her life in Tany over the past dozen years, expressing the most amazement at how unimaginably lazy the people of Tany were.

"When I first arrived, an elderly couple living right across from me ran a tavern. I thought they'd surely be at their busiest on Sundays—who would have thought that one Sunday morning, I woke up and found the two of them weeding their yard together! I was dumbfounded at the time. When noon came and I saw them still puttering around in the yard, I couldn't help walking over and asking, 'Good neighbors, why are you still at home at a time like this?'

"At first, they thought I was reproaching them for not going to church and felt a bit embarrassed. When they realized I meant their tavern business, the two of them burst out laughing and told me, 'Sunday is the day of rest ordained by God, there's no such thing as working!'

"Well, I found that completely baffling. If the tavern isn't open on Sunday, when are Tany's drunkards supposed to come out and get sloshed? Guess what they answered?"

"What did they answer?"

Imitating her friendly neighbor's tone, Mrs. Daria said leisurely, "'From Monday to Saturday, you can come every single night!'"

With that, Mrs. Daria slapped her thigh with her hand.

"Can you believe they came up with that? If someone gets dead drunk on a Monday night, wouldn't he have to go to work with a muddled brain on Tuesday? Back when I was in Vilyuchinsky, I already thought the people there were lazy enough, but I never imagined Tany could be even worse than us."

Hearing this, Chiba had already burst out laughing.

"I know, the women of Vilyuchinsky would never catch the laziness and dissolute habits of the Third District," she raised her teacup and gently tapped Mrs. Daria's cup. "You lot are forever industrious!"