[TIDK] 156 – To The South

In the following weeks, Scarlett regularly sent liquor to Shirley. In return, Shirley would send brief, two-line handwritten letters, mostly detailing her symptoms and occasionally mentioning that the alcohol helped her remember more of what happened at the guard station.

During this time, Scarlett visited the Salantier Institute of Technology and the watch shop in Salantier. However, with the onset of snowfall, the college became enveloped in a deep freeze, rendering it inaccessible.

Scarlett fidgeted, trying to keep her frozen fingers warm as she listened to her professor's lecture. The biting cold weather threatened to give her frostbite if she didn't take precautions.

Professor Gustav resembled a baker, layered in multiple gloves, waiting to slide bread out of the oven. Unconcerned about his reputation, he even wore a fur hat for added warmth.

Fortunately, the research lab where Scarlett worked had a small stovetop, providing some respite from the cold. However, with no fireplace, it was necessary to huddle close to the stove, wrapping oneself in a thick blanket to stay warm.

Feeling fatigued from lack of sleep, Scarlett dozed off in her chair. Meanwhile, her colleagues delicately carved pieces of wood, creating a model of the aeroplane based on the blueprint she had drawn earlier.

A faint burning scent suddenly filled the air, jolting Scarlett awake. She quickly turned her head and, to her horror, saw the tips of her long hair igniting in the stove's flames.

Scarlett let out an involuntary shriek, her voice echoing through the research lab as she frantically tapped her hair with the blanket, extinguishing the flames. Startled, Kirsten Rocher, Bill Klingkus, and a few other students rushed over to her side.

"Scarlett! What happened? Are you alright?" Kirsten exclaimed concern etched on her face.

Bill, always the one with a touch of humour, chimed in, "Did you see a bug in this barren land? If so, capture it alive. If the rations don't arrive due to the heavy snowfall, we might have to eat it..."

Scarlett raised the burnt tips of her hair for everyone to see. "Nah, it was nothing like that. , you know, I was dozing off, and my hair caught fire."

Bill shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, all that fuss for something as minor as that?"

"M-Minor, you say?" Scarlett's voice trembled with a mix of embarrassment and disbelief.

To her surprise, the others had lukewarm reactions to her burnt hair, as if they had experienced far worse in their time at the college. Scarlett solemnly stared at her fellow students, who had grown accustomed to the harsh environment, before making a decision.

"This can't go on any longer," she declared, determination shining in her eyes.

Curious, Bill asked, "Hmm? Why?"

Without answering, Scarlett strode purposefully toward the pride of the Salantier's Institute of Technology—the telephone. The students themselves had built it from scratch and laid the telephone lines, as there were no funds available for the college. It stood as the most luxurious asset within the school grounds.

Just as Scarlett reached out to dial a number, Pavel Maxswiri, one of the college students, approached nervously and asked, "A-Are you going actually to use that phone?"

Scarlett affirmed with a resolute nod. "Yes."

Pavel's voice wavered as he continued, "Even though you have to pay one coin for just five seconds?"

The mention of one coin brought to mind the value it held in the context of their lives. With a single coin, one could buy twelve fresh and large apples—a luxury none of them had the privilege of enjoying. Coins were scarce in this place, and the students struggled even to possess them.

With a tenacious grip on the receiver, Scarlett acknowledged the challenge of ending the call within five seconds. But before she could act, the line connected, and Mr Walkins, the butler, answered.

"This is the Dumfelt estate," he greeted.

"Mr Walkins, this is Scarlett. If Viktor's home, please let him know that I'll be using the villa," Scarlett requested.

"Oh, I see," Mr Walkins replied, his voice carrying the warmth of his age. The conversation continued beyond the intended five-second mark.

"The Young Master is currently at home. I will connect the line to him shortly, Young Miss," Mr Walkins informed her.

"Oh, you don't have to go through all that trou—" Scarlett tried to interject, but the line was already reconnecting, leaving her with a deep sigh of resignation.

Beside her, Pavel anxiously noted the time. "It's already been thirty seconds..."

Scarlett held onto the phone, feigning importance, before finally hanging up just before a minute had passed. Pavel fretted over the wasted call fees. "You could have bought 144 apples with that..."

Scarlett bit her fingertips in nervous anticipation as the phone rang again and hurriedly answered. "Viktor?"

"I saw that you hung up," Viktor remarked.

"I could have bought 144 apples with the money I wasted waiting for you," Scarlett lamented.

"Apples, you say?" Viktor seemed unfazed.

"After just five seconds on the call, I could have bought twelve apples... Ah, let me rephrase. I'm wasting call fees," Scarlett clarified, irritation at her ex-husband's wealth seeping into her words.

Viktor responded nonchalantly, "Just go ahead. I don't even know how much the telephone fees are."

Suddenly, Scarlett found herself annoyed by Viktor's indifference to the cost. Undeterred, she continued, "It's not the time to discuss this. I called to inform you that I'll be using the villa with the mechanical engineering students and professor. It's too cold here."

"You don't need my permission. Use it as you see fit," Viktor granted her.

"As you know, we might run out of food quickly. Everyone loses their mind the moment they see food," Scarlett warned.

"In that case, perhaps you shouldn't have called and used the money to buy 144 apples," Viktor retorted.

"I... I'm hanging up," Scarlett declared, ending the call abruptly. When she turned around, she noticed that everyone in the room was acting strangely, their nerves unsettled by her prolonged phone call.

"Scarlett is going to go bankrupt now... I'll figure something out, Scarlett! Even if it's as trivial as selling my own hair!" Kirsten exclaimed, concerned for her friend's financial situation.

Scarlett shook her head with a determined look as she pointed towards the door. "No need for that. Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Bill asked, puzzled.

"To the South," Scarlett replied, her voice filled with purpose.