Chapter 62
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 62
Chapter Title: Narakje's Guest #3
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Narakje pulled a coin from his pocket.
One side gleamed with brilliant gold, while the opposite was charred black.
Ting-.
Narakje flicked the coin into the air.
Clink-. Spin spin-.
It hit the floor and spun like a top.
"What are you doing right now?"
"My own ritual."
"Ritual?"
"Checking my fortune before getting to work."
Ah, this 'fortune-telling'—I'd seen it plenty of times before.
Thieves did it often before raiding a house.
Flick the coin—if it landed good side up, the job would go smoothly that day.
Bad side up, and they called it off.
Of course, it was just superstition.
I never bothered.
But who knew Narakje was the type?
Spin spin-.
Everyone in the gambling den stared at the spinning coin on the floor.
Finally, it stopped with a click.
The bright gold side was up.
Narakje laughed ha-ha- from behind his black mask.
"100 days straight heads. Good fortune today too!"
"Whoa, the guy's born for this!"
"Vane! Share some of that luck with us!"
"Let's rake it in big time!"
The crowd hooted and hollered like monkeys.
'Get it together.'
The important thing right now wasn't Narakje.
It was the imperial brat.
We'd come to this gambling den to save his family.
And now we'd run into the one person we absolutely shouldn't have.
"How about it, kid. Wanna play a round with me?"
At least it was a stroke of luck that Narakje suggested gambling.
Not a knife fight—gambling was something I had confidence in too.
"What's the stake and the game?"
"You pick."
He was letting me choose the stake and game?
Luck was on my side too.
Clink-!
I piled my 80 chips on the table.
"Game's coin toss. We each pick opposite sides, no exceptions. Call?"
In my opinion, coin toss was the one game where I had a shot.
Heads or tails—50-50 odds.
Against Narakje of all people, that was a 50% edge going in.
"Coin toss? After seeing my ritual, that's your pick? Last chance to change your mind."
"The great Narakje's got a real loose tongue. Losing your nerve?"
I bluffed harder.
It was like sticking my hand in a lion's mouth.
But the imperial brat was right behind me.
Fuck, no backing down now.
In a situation where every choice was the worst, the only way to survive.
Beat Narakje at gambling, rake in chips, claim the prize, and bolt.
"That little shit daring to mouth off to Vane like—."
The clown drew a pair of daggers.
Vane stopped him with a hand.
"Enough."
Vane showed me the coin.
"Bright side's heads. Dark side's tails."
Ting-.
The coin flipped into the air.
For a moment, then it hit the floor, spinning spin spin-.
Vane covered it with a wooden cup—shak-.
"Pick first, kid. Heads or tails."
He was giving me first pick?
Heads or tails.
50-50.
My heart pounded, vision swimming.
80 chips on the line.
This was my whole life on the table.
Lose here?
I'd be left with one chip.
What happened to my pawned skills and lifespan then?
Did I lose all the skills?
Lifespan slashed away?
I'd definitely fall behind on Great Wall expeditions.
Hammer's party would kick me out too.
Losing meant forfeiting all chances at Ether harvesting.
I couldn't lose.
50-50 odds.
Heads or tails.
'Vane said 100 straight heads in his ritual?'
100 heads in a row possible?
Sounds like bullshit.
Even if it was real, tails was due now, right?
Alright.
Tails.
I let out a deep breath.
"Tails."
"Then heads for me."
Vane's voice was flat.
Nothing like me, with my life and 80 chips hanging in the balance.
He seemed utterly bored by the gamble.
Even though he'd suggested it first.
Maybe 80 chips were pocket change to him.
"Alright, revealing."
Swoosh-.
Vane reached for the cup.
Suddenly, panic surged.
"Wait, you could be cheating."
"Why the hell would I?"
Vane scowled.
Soon the crowd shouted too.
"A punk like you? Vane would've killed you ten times over by now!"
"Vane doesn't pull cheap tricks like that!"
"That's why he's Narakje!"
"That's your word. I don't trust it. I lift the cup."
"Fine, whatever."
Surprisingly, Vane backed off easy.
Heart racing, I reached for the cup.
"Please, please...!"
My heartbeat was so loud I could hear it in my ears.
Mouth dry as dust, hard to breathe.
The world spun.
My life was under that cup.
'What if I lose?'
Couldn't bring myself to look.
Teeth chattering, legs shaking.
Then the brat grabbed my side.
And whispered in my ear.
"Risking your life to save my family. You're different."
"What the—! I'm focusing, don't talk!"
Life-or-death right now.
Imperial or not, who cares.
To my prickly snap, the brat added,
"If you lose here, use my life as a chip."
—What?
His life?
Did this brat even know what he was saying?
But it was damn effective.
Vane clicked his tongue at us.
"Whispering change the coin? Hurry up and lift it."
Tails.
Please be tails.
I gripped the cup tight and yanked it up.
# # #
One moment, my vision blurred.
When I came to, I was on all fours, screaming my lungs out.
"Tails! Tails! TAILS!!!!!!!"
Under the revealed wooden cup.
The gold coin on the floor was pitch black.
"I WON!!!!"
Fuck, 50-50.
80 chips!
But...
I couldn't celebrate too hard.
Because of Narakje's glare.
Narakje stared silently at the black side.
"......"
The chill in the air gripped my heart like an icy hand.
Bad vibes.
So I cautiously reached for my bet chips and Narakje's chip pouch.
"Then, I'll take all the winnings. Like a gentleman..."
What if he stabbed my hand with a dagger?
Taking my rightful share felt like shoving it into a starving alligator's jaws.
"Vane lost?"
"In a gamble?"
"He cheat or something—."
The crowd murmured.
The clown especially frothed at the mouth.
"You little shit! Did you cheat?!"
He accused me outright.
Swipe-.
His dagger aimed for my throat.
If I hadn't twisted aside—whoosh—I'd be dead.
"Cheat my ass!"
Knew this would happen.
Win fair and square, and they start a knife fight?
This was why real thieves got hated.
Always going back on their word.
'These dogshit thief bastards!'
Guys like this lumped me—a righteous thief—with all the trash.
I drew my dagger and swung my arm—whoosh-.
Too bad, it didn't connect.
The clown backflipped with freakish flexibility.
"You sleazy clown bastard!"
"Sleazy? You filthy cheater talking shit—."
"Claude, enough."
"But Vane, that punk cheated! No way you lose a gamble otherwise!"
"Claude, you saying I got duped by a punk's sleight of hand? That I'm a moron who fell for a twenty-year-old's trick?"
Vane scowled.
The gambling den went dead silent in an instant.
"Gasp, n-no... I didn't mean... I just thought you..."
The clown trembled.
His panic showed even through the thick clown makeup.
"Idiot. You're fired."
Psshht-.
A fountain erupted.
When I snapped to, clown Claude knelt, blood gushing from his chest.
"Ughhh, m-my... heart..."
Somehow, a pulsing heart—thump thump—was in Vane's hand.
Thud.
Claude keeled over dead.
'Pickpocketing organs?'
That's what it took to be king of thieves?
Total psycho.
"What's your name?"
Vane asked me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, staring at the heart in his hand.
No good coming to this guy's attention.
But he'd see through any lie.
King of criminals—expert at scams and bullshit.
"...Uh, Yor..."
I gave my real name.
Vane muttered it.
"Yor. Yor. That Yor from the 20 Ether breakthrough?"
"That's... could be, or not..."
"Ha—."
Ha? I cracked an eye.
Saw Vane laughing—puhaha-.
"Hahahahaha!"
"Heh... hehehe..."
He laughed so hard, I chuckled along to play safe.
Felt kinda good laughing.
Vane said,
"Go through the clown's corpse. Yor."
Swoosh-.
With that, Vane melted into his shadow and vanished.
'What the fuck was that?'
Insane.
Hiding in his own shadow!
'That's straight-up magic, right?'
Thieves could do that at high levels?
But not the time.
I rifled the clown's pockets.
'Gotta do what I gotta.'
70 chips in the clown's pouch.
That made mine 231 total.
A gold ring marked "7" on the clown's finger.
Solid gold?
Looked pricey. Then guard Taco slapped my shoulder—pow-.
"Yor, you're a new 'Seven Fingers' now."
"Seven what? I got ten fingers."
"Thieves recognized by Narakje. Ones with those numbered rings."
Ah—. So seven rings with numbers, wearers are premium thieves endorsed by Narakje—.
That vibe?
"What's so great about Seven Fingers?"
"Live like nobility in this city. Everyone dreams of it."
Thieves' nobility, huh.
A thought hit me.
"Can I meet a top blacksmith?"
"Sure, why not—."
Perfect.
But right now, I just wanted out.
Clatter clink.
I bought special prizes with 200 of my chips.
"Whew, first time anyone's cleaned house like this since opening."
The exchange clerk stuck out his tongue and handed keys.
Probably to the prize cage.
I fed the remaining 30 chips to Karasa too.
【What a shame.】
【Wanted to make you my servant.】
Got my pawned skills and lifespan back.
Down to one chip left.
Souvenir, I thought, when Karasa spoke.
【Hold the chip and call me!】
【It'll be the medium for our contract.】
Deal with Karasa via this chip?
More options couldn't hurt.
I gripped the keys and headed to the cage.
Clank-.
Unlocked and reached in—a woman extended a pale hand.
"You bought me."
A stunningly beautiful voice.
The brat trailing me yelled clear and small.
"...Sauriel! It's me!"
"...That voice!"
Her name was Sauriel, apparently.
She peeked through her veil—slight lift—and looked at the brat.
"Gasp—."
Her revealed face was such a knockout, my breath caught.
But what shocked me more: her long, pointed ears.
'An Eldari...!?'
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇