Chapter 32: "Cheating" |
Upon hearing the demands of the fat chef, Shad furrowed his brow and glanced at the man called "Mr. Nit," who was in charge of collecting payments. The latter shook his head and said:
"That's between you two. The club won’t stop him from leaving, but you’ll have to convince Fat Jack."
"I don’t have any money left."
Shad pulled the pockets on either side of his coat inside out, revealing nothing but a keychain and a notebook, as his actual money was in an inner pocket. He added:
"I never expected him to owe this much money."
Young Franklin had already risen, lowering his head as he stood silently beside Shad. Though a bit of a scoundrel, he understood that his only hope of leaving rested on this man who didn’t appear much older than himself.
"No money?"
The fat chef angrily bent down to pick up four scattered Rhodes Cards from the floor, showing their faces to Shad. They were Sun 1, Sun 8, Star 13, and Emperor.
The Emperor and Empress cards, unique to the Rhodes deck and separate from the four suits, were akin to the jokers in Shad’s original world. However, they had fascinating roles in Rhodes’ Blackjack-like gameplay.
Grumbling, the chef began shuffling the cards with his hands behind his back. Then, using the hand with a bloodied bite mark, he held out the four cards, their backs facing forward and arranged in a fan shape:
"Don’t say I’m being unreasonable. He bit me first."
He huffed and gestured for Shad to draw.
Shad blinked, extending his hand to stop Young Franklin from reaching out.
"If you’re lucky enough, I won’t need to bail you out."
He spoke as the Fate Wheel in his soul slowly turned, activating the elements that influenced reality. His right eye gained faint, almost imperceptible red traces—residual echoes of blood reflected within his vision.
The world in Shad’s eyes transformed, everything acquiring a strange halo. Even though Young Franklin had only sprayed a minimal amount of blood onto the cards earlier—most of it landing on their faces—the arcane art Blood Echo allowed Shad to perceive faint red traces in the air and observe the differing auras of red mist surrounding the cards.
He had already noticed that the Emperor card had the highest concentration of blood, so he immediately knew it was the second card from the left.
"Does this count as taking advantage of people? I just became a Ring Warlock, and here I am already doing this—it’s not right."
He thought absentmindedly, examining his morals and values. Then, extending his finger, he touched the card on the far right. His eyes, however, stayed fixed on the chef’s face, which immediately tensed up, the man striving to remain expressionless.
Both Mr. Nit and Young Franklin were riveted by this scene.
"This one’s not it."
Shad said softly, shifting his hand to the second card from the right. He again stared at the chef for a few seconds:
"Not this one either."
Shaking his head, he finally moved to the correct card, pausing for several seconds before drawing it with deliberate slowness, as the chef's suppressed surprise became unmistakable.
"This one’s the one."
He flipped the card, revealing the Emperor.
"This feels like bullying ordinary people," Shad thought.
"D**n it, I didn’t realize you were such an experienced gambler!" the chef exclaimed in shock before furiously tossing the other three cards to the ground.
"Take the brat and get out. Next time he owes money, don’t let him cross my path."
The accountant's son showed a look of relief on his pale face, while Shad simply nodded. He refrained from commenting on others’ behavior, noting instead that the Blood Echo arcane art was proving very useful for detective work.
After receiving a receipt, Shad and a dejected Young Franklin were being escorted outside the club to prevent any wandering. However, as they reached the second-floor staircase, they were stopped.
A woman in her thirties, dressed as a maid, descended from the third floor. Her features were plain, but her demeanor was refined.
"The lady wishes to see you," she said, nodding slightly at Shad.
"Is there someone behind me?"
Shad turned to check, but there was no one. "Me?"
"Yes, sir. Please come with me. Your friend may wait on the first floor for the time being."
Shad looked at their escort, who shrugged.
"If it’s the lady on the third floor, you’d best follow her. She’s an exceptionally esteemed guest tonight. As for him," he said, slapping Young Franklin hard on the shoulder twice, nearly toppling the young man, "I’ll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn’t go near the gambling tables."
"May I know who this lady is?" Shad asked hesitantly, suspecting she might be someone influential, perhaps even Mr. Lawrence’s "mistress," Madame Lasso. Still, he couldn’t fathom why she’d want to meet him. The former detective's only connection to this club had been retrieving someone on a prior occasion. Beyond that, Shad had no social ties here.
He also worried about the cat at home, fearing it might soil his bed or desk.
"She’s a titled noble and our most distinguished guest tonight. For her privacy, we cannot reveal her identity," the maid replied in flawless Drarian Common Tongue. Shad gave a slight nod.
"What does she want with me? I don’t recall knowing anyone of such high status."
"Please, follow me."
The woman turned and ascended the stairs. After a moment’s hesitation, Shad followed.
Unlike the relatively quiet second floor, the third floor was utterly silent. Judging by the decor, if Shad hadn’t walked up from below, he might have believed he’d entered an art gallery.
As he trailed the maid, he noticed the walls adorned with paintings while they walked down a carpeted corridor. She stopped before a pair of golden double doors, opening the left side just enough for him to enter.
"The lady is waiting for you inside."
Shad nodded again and, pausing for a moment, listened for the internal voice that would alert him to the presence of elements. Hearing nothing, he stepped into the room.
The maid closed the door from the outside. Standing with his back to the door, Shad surveyed the empty reception room.
The layout was reminiscent of Dr. Schneider’s consultation room. Bookshelves spanned one wall entirely, the floor was carpeted, and the furnishings—bookshelves, coffee table, sofa, and cabinets—were all crafted from brown wood, exuding a businesslike atmosphere.
However, the brass-colored mechanical box on the coffee table stood out. It appeared to be a gear mechanism box, requiring the alignment of six face gears into specific patterns to open.
The walls, blending seamlessly with their painted finish, incorporated steam and gas pipes. Four angelic horn-shaped gas lamps emitted a warm yellow glow, less intense than the light from the overhead crystal chandelier.
The three windows on the wall opposite the door were concealed behind heavy red-brown embroidered curtains. Shad didn’t bother to consider whether anyone might be hiding behind them.
The silence was overwhelming, sending a chill down his spine. Someone was watching him, but they were definitely not in this room.