"How much?" Wayland asked.
"Six hundred and sixty-six pounds."
"Huh?" Wayland stared at her, incredulous. "Six hundred and sixty-six pounds for a three-hour train ride? Are you a devil?"
In the West, 666 was the number of the Beast,the devil himself.
"Can't you do any better than that?" Wayland asked, trying to appeal to her sense of professional courtesy. "After all, the Norwich family is the sponsor of our Department of Modern Magecraft. We're practically family."
"Sixty-six pounds, then," Melody said with a slight tilt of her head.
Wayland was stunned. Since when was 'knocking off a zero' a valid haggling strategy? What kind of negotiating genius was he dealing with?
Still, sixty-six pounds was well within his budget, so he gave a quick nod of agreement.
Melody reached into her pocket and produced a train ticket, handing it to Wayland with a flourish.
The ticket listed the departure, destination, train number, and price.
London - Oxenholme. BR666, Carriage 6, Seat 6. Price: 6 Pounds.
"Six pounds?" Wayland asked, pointing to the bottom of the card.
"It's a haggling technique my father taught me," Melody explained with a bright, innocent smile. "Start with a price that's so ridiculous it's impossible to accept, then drop it drastically. People find it much easier to say yes to the second offer."
"..."
'Did you learn that from Lu Xun?'
Wayland let out a long, weary sigh. Under the pressure of Melody's impeccable, lily-white smile, he accepted the loss and paid the sixty-six pounds.
"Follow me, please."
Melody pocketed the cash and led him out of the VIP lounge, heading deep into the interior of the station.
They arrived at Platform Six.
Wayland felt a persistent urge to complain. Just how much did this family love the number six?
"Please, go ahead."
Melody gestured toward one of the massive stone pillars supporting the platform's vaulted roof.
Wayland's brow furrowed. He reached out and touched the smooth, cold surface of the stone, immediately sensing a faint flicker of magical energy.
He glanced at Melody, then channeled a small amount of Prana into his palm.
A magical circle the size of a bracelet manifested and spun once.
In an instant, Wayland vanished from the spot.
He found himself standing on a dimly lit platform overlooking a pair of deep, shadowed tracks.
'You guys have watched way too much Harry Potter.'
'First a VIP lounge, and now Platform Nine and Three-Quarters?'
Wayland waited for about six minutes before an old-fashioned green train, looking like a relic from a previous century, steamed into the station.
Checking his ticket, he walked to Carriage Six. The doors hissed open with a cloud of steam.
A woman stood there, dressed in a form-fitting black uniform. Her makeup was sharp and cold, her eyes carrying a subtle, alluring charm.
When she spotted Wayland, her eyes seemed to soften with a faint, misty glow, and her frosty expression melted into a stunning smile.
She performed a shallow, graceful bow.
Wayland's gaze was momentarily drawn to the plunging neckline of her uniform.
'Siss!'
'Can't you stewards wear your uniforms properly?'
'Are you trying to distract the passengers?'
Wayland pointedly looked away.
"Your ticket, please." Her voice was as sweet and smooth as honey.
Wayland felt a sudden, electric jolt as their fingers brushed. He handed over the ticket and waited.
The stewardess inspected the card, then took a half-step back. "Please, step inside."
Wayland entered the carriage and froze. It was empty.
Aside from a few rows of vacant seats, there was no one else there.
He located Seat Six and sat down.
A few moments later, the train lurched forward and began to accelerate into the darkness.
The view through the window gradually brightened as they reached the end of the tunnel, and the brilliant midday sun flooded the carriage.
Wayland felt a bit bored as he watched the scenery blur by.
"Beer, beverages, mineral water! Peanuts, sunflower seeds, eight-treasure porridge! Does the gentleman require anything?"
Wayland watched as the stewardess from before pushed a small snack cart down the aisle. He remained silent for several beats.
'She's beautiful enough to be a model, yet here she is, selling snacks like a street vendor.'
"I'll have a Coca-Cola. A cold one, if you have it."
"Of course."
The stewardess gave him a sweet smile and reached into the bottom of the cart, producing a chilled bottle of Coke.
[Translated and Rewritten by Shika_Kagura]