Chapter 30: Lucky Southern Cross

This was Mr. Franklin's third time coming to request help. Once again, he wanted his son, young Franklin, forcibly removed from an illegal, late-night club where he had become obsessed with a card game called Rhodes.

Mr. Franklin had finally had enough. He planned to sell off his assets, quit his job, and abandon the thirty years of hard work he and his wife had put into making a life in the northern capital city of Tobesque. They were going to move west to the Kingdom's "City of Arts," Artek, where Mr. Franklin's brother had lived for many years and could help them find new jobs.

More importantly, the move was to get young Franklin away from his bad influences—away from the Rhodes game and away from gambling.

"When you bring him back this time, I'll lock him in the house," Mr. Franklin declared. "Once we've finished with the move next month, I'll take him straight to the steam train. So, Detective Hamilton, can you get my son out of that club?"

The client confirmed the details.

The task was simple—Shade only needed to go into the club and convince young Franklin to leave with him. The payment was 13 shillings and 3 pence, a little more than half a pound. For an accountant with an annual salary of around £70, it was roughly a week's wage.

The fee covered the club's entrance, as well as an additional night travel stipend. Although compared to the earlier job of finding little Mia, this business wasn't even worth "half a cat's value," Shade thought it over and decided to accept the commission.

He had recently seen records left by the previous detective about the Franklin family and how the detective had persuaded young Franklin to leave with him.

"A simple task. No way to mess this up."

Shade left the ginger cat at home, feeling guilty for not turning off the gas lamp in case Mia got scared. Franklin went home to wait for news, and Shade, due to the long distance, took a cab to the destination.

Tobesque's cab fares varied depending on the starting point and destination. Starting within the city center, defined by the Yordle Palace, the fare was 1 shilling for any destination within 2 miles, and 5 pence per mile after that. For long trips out of the city center, the rate was slightly cheaper per mile.

Shade's destination, however, was in the Lower Town, also known as North Town. Including a nighttime tip for the driver, he paid 3 shillings when he was dropped off in a dim alley.

Fortunately, the Franklin family also lived in North Town, so he wouldn't need another cab after finding young Franklin.

The high cost of cab fare reminded Shade of the stark wealth gap in this complex, flourishing steam era. He couldn't help but wonder how many challenges lay ahead for someone like him from the lower class.

The night was quiet, but as a newly initiated warlock, Shade could feel a disturbing sense of danger in the silence, like peering into an abyss. The northern capital of Tobesque undoubtedly hid many secrets and unknowns in its shadowy alleys and the corners of apartments, but at least tonight, Shade wasn't encountering any of them.

"This world… it's much more dangerous than I imagined."

The club, named "Lucky Southern Cross," had its main entrance on Glass Hill Avenue, but to access the gambling den, one had to enter through a back door in an alleyway.

Following the notes left by the previous detective, Shade entered the alley and circled around in the darkness until he found a rusted, silver-gray iron door. At one point, a stray cat suddenly jumped from a wall, startling Shade, who cursed himself for being so easily frightened.

After cautiously knocking three times on the iron door, he waited for a full thirty seconds before a tall man with a beard, wearing a black coat and boots, warily opened the door from the inside.

"This isn't a place for young men," the man growled.

He gave Shade a push, surprised when he couldn't budge him. Despite being a novice warlock, Shade's physical strength had significantly increased.

"Is this how business is done here?" Shade showed a card from the Rhodes deck he had found earlier, a Silver Moon 13, and said, "I'm here to see Mr. Rhodes, about a matter at the table."

He handed over three pennies as an entry fee.

"Thought you were a... first-timer?" The bearded man glanced at the card, recognizing the code.

"A friend recommended the place," Shade responded in a low voice. After a brief inspection, the man stepped aside, allowing Shade to enter the dimly lit corridor illuminated by yellow gas lamps.

Shade quickly pulled up his coat collar to cover part of his face, glanced warily down the alley, then slipped inside.

"Not that serious for an illegal club..." the bearded man muttered behind him.

The hallway was dark, with the unpleasant stench of sweat, alcohol, and tobacco hanging in the air. After walking about ten steps, Shade saw half-open doors lining both sides of the corridor. Harsh lights spilled out from the rooms, where shouting and the sound of people slapping tables could be heard.

Shade didn't enter any of the rooms. Cautious, he continued down the hallway, using his [Echo of Blood] spell to scan the surroundings. There were no obvious traces of blood, indicating that, at least, nothing too criminal was happening here.

"Not a combat spell, but incredibly useful," he thought to himself.

The hallway led to the eastern hall of the club, which was brighter and filled with dozens of wide wooden tables covered with tablecloths. Well-dressed gentlemen, tipsy bar-goers, and tired workers crowded around the tables, waving money and eagerly watching the card games.

The Lucky Southern Cross Club had three floors, and only those with enough status could access the upstairs casino. Young Franklin, however, was most likely in the first-floor hall. The last time, the detective had found the drunken young man passed out in a corner of this very room.

With so many people present, Shade couldn't immediately locate his target. Mr. Franklin had described his son's clothing and appearance, but it wasn't enough to pinpoint him right away. Holding a 1-shilling note, Shade mingled with the crowd, stopping at different tables to scan the faces of those around him. However, he wasn't about to gamble—the cab fare had already hurt his wallet, and Mr. Franklin wasn't covering unnecessary expenses.

After half an hour of searching, Shade had scoured the entire eastern hall without finding young Franklin. Instead, while pretending to study a betting strategy, he overheard some gamblers talking about an interesting incident from about an hour ago.

A young man with freckles, wearing a sailor's shirt and a gray cap, had racked up too much debt at the table and had been taken upstairs to "settle his account."

Shade didn't know exactly what "settling his account" entailed, but he knew it couldn't be good. He had found young Franklin's trail, and the young man's situation seemed dire.

To get upstairs, one needed to show at least £10 in cash and have a personal recommendation. Shade had neither, but giving up wasn't an option—not on his first real case.

He waited for a while, and soon, a large group of drunk men staggered out of one of the side rooms and made their way to the second floor.

"Perfect timing!"

Shade pretended to move aside to let them pass but quickly slipped in, supporting one of the stragglers and holding his breath against the overpowering stench of alcohol. Blending into the crowd, he successfully made his way up to the second floor.

"Earning a living is never easy," Shade thought as he glanced around the more refined, quieter space. 

Compared to the noisy environment on the first floor, the second floor is noticeably quieter and more elegantly decorated. Even at night, this is still a liquor club rather than a casino