Chapter 105
Chapter 105
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 105
Chapter Title: After the Heavy Snow
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The fierce snowfall finally came to a stop. Jackton swept the snow off the eaves with a broom.
It had been years since they'd seen a blizzard like that. A few more days, and the entire Holy City would have been buried.
“It's been a while since I've seen the sky this clear. That snow was relentless.”
“You're telling me.”
Jackton stuck the broom into a snowbank as he glanced at the old man. He'd been showing up at the shop like clockwork for the past couple of months.
The old man was easy to spot, with his well-worn staff and narrow-brimmed hat. His outfit never changed.
“Anyone inside yet?”
“You're too early.”
“Then how about you keep me company?”
“I don't like games I lose.”
“What kind of chess parlor owner hates losing? Games are half wins and half losses by nature.”
“How many people have beaten you, old timer?”
Jackton raised the broom to brush the snow off the sign clinging to the shop's facade.
“Jackton's Chess.” The sign gleamed brightly in the sunlight, drawing a smile to his face. It had been worth the investment.
“Come on, entertain a customer. Waiting around is torture.”
“I told you, I hate losing.”
“How about we play with half the pieces removed?”
“Would that even count as a game?”
“You won't know till you try.”
“It'd bruise my pride.”
Jackton finished sweeping the snow from the entrance and ushered the old man inside. The fireplace he'd lit that morning kept the place comfortably warm.
“Hear firewood prices have gone up quite a bit?”
The old man said as he took a seat.
“It's winter. Still, I'm better off than most. One of my regulars is a lumberjack—gets me a good deal.”
“Lucky you.”
The old man doffed his hat. His red nose caught Jackton's eye. Not from the cold.
“Another drink last night?”
“It was for my health. These days, young folks shy away from liquor. Not good for them.”
“You think young people do it for no reason? They're smarter than us, cutting back. There's gotta be something to it. You should cut back too, old timer.”
“If I'm gonna die anyway, might as well enjoy what I like till the end. Don't you think?”
“You live life easy. Must be nice.”
“Everyone says that when they see me. That I have it easy.”
Jackton set a chessboard on the table and arranged the pieces. True to his word, the old man removed half of them. Staring at the enemy's sparse formation, Jackton remarked,
“Even I couldn't lose this one.”
“Probably not.”
“And you still wanna play?”
“Didn't I say it? Games are half winning, half losing. There's fun in losing too, in its own way.”
“I wouldn't know. Can't see the fun in it.”
Jackton made the first move. The old man stared at the board for a long while before responding. Exchanges followed.
“Check. Looks like it's over.”
Jackton said, eyeing the king pinned on the diagonal.
“Any escape?”
“Not that I see.”
“Could've held out longer. Shame.”
The old man pulled out a notepad. He uncorked an ink bottle, dipped his pen, and scribbled busily.
“Don't you ever get tired of recording notations?”
“If this bores me, I'd quit chess altogether. Care to review the game?”
“Wish I could, but I've got shop cleanup to do.”
“Guess it's just me then.”
Jackton watched the old man reset the pieces, then set about cleaning the interior. He polished a new Triangular Chess board and meticulously cleaned its pieces.
“Looks expensive.”
The old man approached, apparently done with his notations.
“Got one in just recently. Made from whale bone—the feel in your hand is something else.”
“Mind if I take a look?”
“Handle with care. This one's pricey.”
The old man picked up a bishop and examined it from all angles.
“You gonna leave this out? What if someone swipes it?”
“It's for display. Got separate sets for play over there. Thinking of renting them out for a fee eventually, but just showing them off for now.”
“Makes me wanna pocket one.”
Jackton quickly snatched the bishop back from the old man's hand. The old man chuckled lowly.
“Do folks play a lot of Triangular Chess these days?”
“Everyone's switching over. Bigger board, more pieces—tactical variety you can't compare to regular chess. Rules are tricky at first, but once you dive in, it's addictive. You should give it a try, old timer.”
“Been studying it myself. With fewer folks playing regular chess here, gotta keep up with the times.”
“You'll pick it up in no time.”
Jackton finished tidying and flung the shop doors wide open. He aired out the place while scanning the street. Other shops were opening one by one.
He exchanged greetings with merchants, his gaze lingering on a shop with its doors still shut.
“About ten days now?”
The old man standing beside him said. Blunt words, but Jackton got it instantly.
“Yeah. About that. Still gives me chills thinking about it.”
That day when the main street ran red with blood, Jackton had been inside his shop.
Screams from outside prompted him to bar the door and grip a club for self-defense as he peered through the window.
People were dying. Dropping like flies.
Even the snow falling with voracious appetite couldn't hide the mad killer's handiwork.
The killer was some indescribable “thing.” It looked human but wasn't. A monster crawling on all fours in human shape.
The guard couldn't stop it. They were helpless. A nightmare made real.
As he furtively eyed an escape route, a little girl appeared. Bandages over her eyes.
He groaned inwardly. Wanted to save her, but how? Against a beast that tore people apart with its bare hands?
The situation was hopeless enough, and then the girl tripped over a corpse. The monster lunged. Thinking it was over, he looked away.
A hulking lizard warrior blocked the monster. A Tarin, common sights in the Holy City. Schola elite soldiers appeared too.
The monster thrashed, but its head came off in the end. That final screech still echoed in his ears ten days later.
“What the hell was it?”
“How should I know? Just rumors of some grotesque creature.”
“I saw it up close. Right up to the moment it died. Head came off, but it kept moving for ages. Gives me goosebumps even now.”
“Best to forget bad memories quick. Life's too short—focus on the good stuff.”
“I know. I know, but it won't fade. If memories bent to my will, life'd be a breeze. I even saw its body turn to mud after it stopped. It looked vaguely human—what was that thing?”
“Talking about it just makes it sharper. Cut it out and play some Triangular Chess with me. Time to test theory in practice.”
“You're right. Better stop mentioning it. Scared it'll haunt my dreams.”
They set up a Triangular Chess board. Unlike regular chess, pieces had more movement options, and in some cases, the board could expand.
Matches between equals turned the expanded board into a chaotic mess of pieces.
As they traded moves and refined notations, a customer entered.
“Gotta get back to work.”
“Too bad. Was getting good.”
“We can pick it up next time. But aren't you improving awfully fast? You just started.”
“This is just my talent.”
“Triangular Chess tournament's coming up. You should enter—big prizes.”
“If I'm in the mood.”
Jackton served the old man a drink as he pulled out his notepad, then greeted the new customer.
Regulars, so they found seats and set up boards on their own. Soon, tables filled up one by one.
“Once the board expands, my brain just freezes.”
“That's the charm of the game, isn't it?”
Regular chess was yesterday's news—everyone was deep into Triangular Chess.
Jackton circulated, serving drinks and snacks, occasionally pausing to huddle and study moves.
“Lost! Even three of us couldn't spot it.”
A hearty laugh boomed from the central table. Jackton approached with cups in hand.
“Give it up. You can't beat Bill.”
He told the three customers facing off against Bill. Among the shop's patrons, no one beat him.
“Bill, teach me sometime when you're free. I'll pay well.”
“Count me in too, Professor Bill.”
The customers yielded their seats. Jackton sat opposite Bill.
“Got a match against another shop lined up. Go in for me, Bill.”
“I'm not that good.”
“If you're not good, none of our customers should play. Anyway, it's for the shop's rep—help me out. Won't ask you to do it free, so make time.”
“Got it. After helping Dad at work, I'll join if I can.”
“I'll smooth it over with old Margos, don't worry. You're wasting time on manual labor. Become a Triangular Chess pro—teach nobles. You know how well chess tutors to nobles rake it in.”
He clapped the shyly smiling Bill on the shoulder.
“Our professor's seat's finally free.”
The old man approached and sat. Bill greeted him.
“Got a minute?”
“Sure.”
“Then take a look at this move. Been pondering, but it doesn't feel right.”
The old man's hand darted out, placing a piece.
Jackton leaned in to watch. Other customers gathered around the table.
“A6 seems worse than A8 here. What do you think, Professor?”
“I'd push to the expanded flank. Shift the front line.”
“But that shakes our formation.”
“In this position, you need to lure them in. Holding everything leaves no gains. Give ground to take ground.”
Bill moved a few pieces. Jackton watched, mouth agape in admiration.
The stalemate cracked open. Customers started firing questions.
Bill patiently explained why to sacrifice that piece, why this move.
“Makes sense. Professor's got a different eye.”
“Nah. And 'professor' still doesn't sit right—can we drop it?”
“Professor is professor. Right?”
The old man asked the crowd. Nods all around. As Bill sheepishly scratched his head,
The shop door opened. A cloaked man stepped in. New face.
First stranger in a while at a shop full of familiars? Jackton approached with a welcoming smile.
“Haven't seen you before. Here for chess?”
“Not exactly...”
As the man glanced around, the old man swooped in and grabbed his wrist.
The man opened his mouth, but the old man shot him a glare.
“I'll forgive the insolence, but first, play a game against that professor there.”
Dragged by the old man, the stranger sat opposite Bill.