C166: Prepare for vengeance
Standing before Otto's general store, Jack adjusted the fine black fabric of his attire. He was currently wearing a tailored black coat and matching trousers, a remarkably polite and fancy ensemble that stood in stark contrast to this backwater village.
The sun had already set, casting the village into the deep blue of early evening. In front of the store, a single oil lamp had been lit, emitting a warm yellow light that spilled over the wooden steps and illuminated the weathered sign hanging above the door.
Jack pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the store.
Surprisingly, the interior remained lit with a dim glow that required no oil lamps or candles whatsoever. The source of this strange illumination stemmed from clusters of bizarre, colorful mushrooms sprouting from ceramic pots, alongside peculiar plants whose bioluminescent appendages waved slowly, their shapes resembling the dangling antennae of anglerfish.
Their soft glow pulsed in shades of yellow, white, green, and violet, giving the shelves and jars around them an eerie, dreamlike outline.
‘Bizarre plants.’
Jack noticed the bald, hunchbacked old man still seated behind the counter, his frail form bent over. Perched upon his nose rested a small pair of round spectacles, as he meticulously cleaned the leaves of a potted plant with a soft cloth.
The atmosphere within the shop was solemn, completely different from the warmth when Arnold had visited during the daylight hours.
Noticing the arrival of a customer, Otto spoke without looking up.
"Welcome. What do you require?"
Jack walked to the counter, his narrow eyes studying the potted plant with interest. However, this was not the appropriate time to admire the magical plants that this old man somehow possessed.
"Can I pawn something here?" Jack asked in a probing tone.
"Depends upon what you wish to pawn, lad." Otto retrieved a small spray bottle and misted the leaves with care, cradling the pot as if it were his own child.
“This.” Not wanting to waste any time, Jack placed a ring on the counter with a soft click.
Since learning that Otto was affiliated with the Silver Land, Izzy had come up with the idea of pawning Victor’s ring to the man.
This old man might appear harmless, but he surely possessed knowledge of far more than most individuals in this village, especially concerning extraordinary and anomalous items.
This gave Otto a moment's pause. He regarded the ring for a contemplative moment, turning it over in the dim bioluminescent light, then shook his bald head.
"Unfortunately, this I cannot pawn."
Jack narrowed his already narrow eyes.
"How much will you offer me if I sell this to you outright?"
"I do not purchase this."
Otto said it absolutely, without even looking up.
Jack stood momentarily speechless. The unexpected rejection had thrown a wrench into Izzy's laid plan.
Fortunately, Izzy had already anticipated the possibility of this outcome. Therefore, Jack had arrived prepared with an alternative.
"What about this?"
Jack, once again, produced the silver card and placed it upon the counter right beside the ring. The polished metal catched the colored glow of the bioluminescent plants.
"Will you accept the pawn if I possess this?"
"..."
Otto paused his misting hand in midair. He raised his gaze to assess Jack properly, studying the narrow-eyed young man, before looking back down at the silver card. He stroked his flowing white beard thoughtfully.
"Lad. Ordinarily, nighttime is reserved for peculiar customers of a special sort. You are not supposed to flaunt such a thing in my face upon our very first meeting."
Otto shook his head, pointing at the ring.
"This item is an antique. It holds no use for people like us. However, since you are a peculiar customer, I can offer you five Alan coins for it."
‘Only five? Why does this sound like a scam…?’ Izzy thought warily. Thinking of the possibility of being scammed, she controlled Jack and tested the waters further.
“What about this?”
Jack placed the eagle-head cane on the counter and asked again.
Otto narrowed his eyes. His expression changed from lazy indifference to seriousness as he leaned closer to the silver eagle-head cane, inspecting it carefully through his glass without touching it.
After a long silence, he raised his hand and extended five fingers.
"Five Alan coins?"
Otto frowned, his brow furrowing. He growled with irritation and raised his four-legged cane as though to brandish it like a weapon.
“Are you stupid? What kind of retard sells this for five coins? It’s worth five hundred Alan coins!"
"F-Five hundred?!" For the first time, Jack's perpetually narrowed eyes flew wide open in shock. Inside the mindscape, even Izzy sat frozen in her chair, stunned.
‘Five hundred?! This thing that precious?’ For once, she had not expected a random cane from an old man she had killed long ago would fetch such a high price.
‘This also tells me how precious this cane is.’
Another question rose simultaneously in Izzy's mind.
'Then does that mean... the ring is worthless?'
Five Alan coins were already a really big deal in this rural backwater. But hearing that the cane Jack had been carrying around so casually was worth a whopping five hundred Alan coins forced her to reconsider her sense of currency.
The thought of Jack carrying around an item worth 500 Alan coins so nonchalantly and carelessly made Izzy tremble.
"Do you truly wish to pawn this? I must inform you, lad, that I do not keep such a quantity of Alan on the premises," Otto said, his voice returning to its businesslike cadence. "But if it pleases you, I can offer goods of equivalent value in exchange for the cane, or we may settle the matter in formal debt, and you may reclaim your coin at a later date in another town of your choosing."
Izzy was genuinely tempted by the offer. But considering the current situation, this cane remained one of her precious and reliable weapons. Selling it off did not align with her strategic needs.
She controlled Jack to shake his head.
“I won’t. But Mister Otto, you seem to know about this cane’s origin. Might you share some of that knowledge with me?"
Otto looked thoughtful for a moment before raising his raspy voice.
"Ten Alan coins for the information."
Hearing the steep price demanded for mere words, Izzy's expression turned visibly sour.
'Damn him!'
So greedy! Izzy sighed. It was as expected, since Otto was, in essence, a merchant at heart. They did not owe each other anything.
She returned to Jack’s perspective and guided him to retrieve the cane from the counter, setting it safely back at his side. Then she had him slide the ring forward once more, placing it directly in front of the old man.
"Instead of five Alan coins, might I trade this item for silver daggers? A silver sword would be even more preferable."
Otto regarded the ring for a brief moment, a fleeting look of disappointment crossing his weathered features, before he nodded reluctantly. He turned and shuffled into the storage room behind him.
Before long, he emerged, carrying a heavy bundle wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it on the counter to reveal eight silver daggers, their polished blades gleaming in the dim, multicolored glow of the strange plants.
“Eight daggers and twenty shillings.”
‘So each one is worth ten shillings.’ Jack nodded and completed the transaction. As for the twenty shillings, that sum equated to one Alan coin, but Jack specifically requested the amount returned in silver shilling coins.
Unfortunately, Otto did not possess a silver sword.
“By the way, is this card also made of silver?”
“Pure silver. You won’t see it just anywhere,” Otto answered flatly, before his brow furrowed and he stroked his white beard.
"You are not contemplating anything stupid with it, are you? Should you lose it, I won’t provide another."
Jack offered only a wry smile in response, but did not answer.
"Youngsters these days." Otto clicked his tongue in disapproval. "If your business is concluded, then get lost."
He cast one final glance at the silver eagle-head cane resting at Jack's side, before waving his hand dismissively. He pushed the ring into a drawer, and returned his full attention to the care of his potted plants.
Jack stepped out through the wooden door into the cold night air, holding a cloth bag containing eight silver daggers and a leather pouch that jingled with many clinking coins.
He tilted his head back and looked up at the vast, star-scattered canopy of the night sky.
‘Hopefully, we made it on time.’
He immediately broke into a run, his black coat billowing behind him as he raced toward Arnold's current location.
Behind him, a man and a woman followed at a distance.
Perched upon the man's broad shoulder sat a small girl holding a black umbrella, her long black hair streaming behind her in the wind, her green eyes fixed unblinking upon the running figure ahead.
—
On Arnold’s side, the two men, one tall and one short, wandered around the village without any clear destination.
‘That’s odd. This lad has never addressed me as senior. There must be something amiss here.'
Davis thought quickly as he maintained his casual facade. He would not call himself smart, but Arnold’s behaviour was so out of the ordinary that it proved impossible to overlook.
'Why did Arnold instruct me to lead us toward some remote place?' Davis wondered while walking, obligingly "leading" Arnold toward various locales that he deemed "suitable" for whatever purpose the boy harbored.
While walking, he could not help but notice the exquisite dagger Arnold had taken out and was cleaning with his handkerchief.
The moment the boy held the hilt, his whole aura changed, from a harmless hamster into a dangerous killer.
Davis swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing visibly, while he forced himself to continue conversing with Arnold as though they were two colleagues, junior and senior, discussing the village. He asked probing questions about what plans Arnold might conceivably devise to deal with the Trader.
Arnold walked behind Davis. Unlike Davis's tense, nervous posture, the boy with the bandaged head paced very casually, as if this darkening village road was nothing more than a leisurely stroll.
'What manner of scheme is he planning?'
They had been walking for a full fifteen minutes already, passing by numerous households, empty streets, yet Arnold had still not called a halt.
"I do not recognize this place. Where are we?"
"Junior, you have but recently arrived, so it is only natural that you would not know. This area is—" Davis promptly changed his direction based on Arnold’s subtle order.
'Perhaps the place where we first encountered one another?' Davis altered their direction once more, steering them toward the location of their initial meeting, near the border where the village met forest.
The sun had fully descended below the horizon, surrendering the village to a peaceful silence. House after house opened warm light through their windows, while smoke billowed from their chimneys and rose into the deepening night.
The air was cold against the skin, carrying the smell of earth, grass, river dampness, and nature. It was almost winter.
“This place will do.”
At one point, Arnold brought them both to a halt. There remained no more houses within their vision, only a thin, scattered border of trees surrounding them on all sides.
At night, the forest became even eerier. However, this place was still within the village’s domain, which was the reason Arnold could still walk here without being paranoid about the vile beast.
"What do you mean by that, junior?"
Arnold narrowed his eyes beneath the bandages. Slowly, he raised the exquisite dagger until its blade caught the starlight.
The boy's eyes were emotionless, fixed upon Davis with the same blank intensity one might reserve for examining an insect.
Cold sweat trickled down Davis’s spine.
“Junior?”
Davis unconsciously took a step back.
Arnold advanced one step forward. Before the thin man could comprehend what was happening, Arnold lunged forward, driving the dagger directly at Davis's chest!
“!”
The thin man's eyes flew wide in shock and disbelief, looking down at himself, then up at Arnold's impassive face in stunned betrayal.
“J… Junior? Why?”
Blood flowed from Davis’s mouth. Davis bent down, clutching weakly at his chest where the dagger had connected.
His knees gave way, and he collapsed to the earth. The dagger slid free as he fell, landing against the ground with a dull thud, blood gleaming along its blade.
“...”
Arnold stood motionless above the fallen man, gazing down at Davis without any discernible expression upon his bandaged face, watching as the thin man lay face-down in the mud.
He slowly raised both hands high into the air, and shouted loudly into the darkness that surrounded them.
“I give up, spare my life!”