Chapter 7: A Small Black Stone
"Only one, young master," the manager said as he pushed the heavy steel door open. "You can either open it here or take it home as it is."
Matthew stepped inside.
The vault wasn’t what he expected. It wasn’t sleek or orderly. It was a wide, dimly lit room with uneven flooring and the faint smell of mineral dust in the air.
Stones were everywhere. Some sat neatly on stands, displayed like luxury goods. Others were simply piled on the floor like they’d been dropped there by mistake. Some had colored tags. Most didn’t.
The manager followed behind him. "Many prefer the ones on the shelves. They’re larger and look impressive. People think the bigger the stone, the better the yield. But that’s not always true. The ones on the ground... smaller, and less noticeable. Usually nothing inside. That’s why most don’t bother."
Matthew didn’t answer. He only nodded.
Another scheme, he thought. Bigger stones, harder to carry—more bait than substance. He already got what he wanted: VIP access, recognition, and connections. This was just extra. Like a souvenir or something like that.
He walked deeper into the vault, scanning the piles. His eyes brushed over a chunk of blue-gray rock with a jagged top, a smooth green one as tall as his torso, and even a deep purple slab that shimmered faintly under the low light.
Jarring. Too large. Too eye-catching.
He wasn’t interested in something he couldn’t slip into his pocket. He wasn’t planning to haul a slab out the door and parade it back home. That would raise questions.
Then he saw it. A small black stone near the floor, no tag, slightly polished, oval-shaped. It looked more like a river pebble than something from a vault.