Rumours (7)
"They say they've caught him."
The bookkeeper flinched and listened intently to the conversation between two middle-aged men. It was a conversation that should have been exchanged discreetly, but those two men treated the bookkeeper like he was nothing more than a decoration in the corner, hardly considering him a person. They didn't feel the need to whisper, and spoke openly.
'In the end, they've caused trouble.'
The bookkeeper clicked his tongue inwardly and busily recorded numbers on the thinly shaved wooden plank. The income from the gambling hall, which had sharply declined in recent days, had reached rock bottom today.
As the saying goes, where money gathers, people will follow. But because everyone was flocking to
He had been spending money—giving away free drinks, replacing tables and chairs with better ones… At first glance, it seemed like the expenses were more than the earnings, but in fact, the money spent acted as a lure, drawing in more customers.
It was not a scene where the poor wandering the streets dreamt sweet dreams, like ants swarming over a drop of sugar water. The gambling hall walked a completely opposite path to the other stingy gambling halls that operated on a shoestring budget and only subtly worked behind the scenes. But today, that revival comes to an end.
Despite coaxing and scolding, the gamblers showed no signs of turning around, and in the end, the owners, thoroughly fed up, decided to join forces and remove the thorn in their side.
The bookkeeper, who had been scribbling numbers on the wooden plank, lowered his head at the clattering sound of two of the owners standing up. At that moment, a sharp crack rang out as a whip lashed against the back of his head.
"What are you doing? You too, come with us."
Rubbing his sore head, he muttered in confusion.
"What? Me? I'm supposed to go too?"
"Of course. We need you to write up the debt contracts for that arrogant brat. You should be there too. Don't just stand around, come with us!"
With a grumbling voice, he silently followed behind them. This place had once been the most successful gambling hall in the backstreets of El Dante. Below ground, there was a dim, grimy basement specifically set up to interrogate debtors. As the bookkeeper descended to the lower floor, recoiling from the musty smell, he saw a man sitting in the centre of the room, bound to a chair with shackles. A burlap sack covered his head so that he couldn't see anything.
The bookkeeper stood idly in a corner, while the gambling hall owners arrogantly circled the man. After a moment, at their gesture, one of them swiftly removed the burlap sack from his head.
The man's disheveled hair fell over his face as he scanned the surroundings. His eyes, seemingly filled with fear, adjusted to the darkness, expanding and contracting in the process—an awkward display that caused the gamblers to scoff at his confusion. The man, shaking the armrests of the chair with a clattering sound, showed signs of resistance, but was quickly subdued. With a trembling voice, the man shouted out.
"What… what is this…?"
Bang!
One of the gambling hall owners, wearing a cruel expression, slammed his cane down on the floor.
"Don't you know? You've caused quite a loss for some people."
"What?"
"You sure caused a ruckus. Didn't think something like this would happen, did you?"
The owners lined up, menacingly pressuring the man. With a sharp snap of his thick fingers, the bookkeeper quickly rushed forward to comply. The gambling hall owners gestured with their chins.
"Read it."
"Y-yes."
He began to recite as ordered. He started with how much their gambling hall's income had decreased since the rise of the success of
In addition, he mentioned that during that period, the unsold alcohol had to be thrown away due to poor management. He calculated how much income they would have made if all the alcohol had been sold. Furthermore, he speculated on how much interest they would have earned if they had continued to lend money at high interest rates to the steady stream of gamblers during this time. The losses quickly multiplied into a staggering amount.
"This money is all the money we lost because of you! What are you going to do about it? Of course, you'll pay it back, right?"
The owner yelled at the man. It was sheer nonsense. They were blaming him for money they hadn't even earned and demanding that he repay it.
'Greedy pigs.'
The bookkeeper silently cursed these people, who were obsessed only with money others had earned. At that moment, it seemed for a brief moment that he made eye contact with the man tied to the restraining chair, but it was hard to be sure as the other squinted his eyes. The owners of the gambling hall approached the man and pressured him.
"This money is all the money you have to repay. Do you understand now? If you've stepped into the gambling hall, you should know it's obvious. It's a debt, a debt."
"That's nonsense…"
"If you value your life, you might want to reconsider refusing."
In front of the shrinking man, the owners of the gambling hall shoved an absurd contract toward him. They surrounded him with thugs hired to collect debts, and held up the contract, which stated a debt so large that even if he vomited up every penny he had earned, he couldn't repay it, almost as if to suggest that refusal would lead to death.
"If you don't repay the debt by the scheduled date, I'll strip you of your skin."
They pushed the contract away and, standing so close that their noses almost touched, breathed in an unpleasant scent. Under the intense pressure, the man seemed to tremble.
"There's no way to escape."
The gambling hall owner whispered ominously, gesturing toward the locked basement door. Thinking they had sufficiently persuaded him, they finally placed the contract in front of him and stepped back.
The man, relying on the faint light in the darkness, began to read the terms of the contract. Even though the owners of the gambling hall fumbled through the long document, the man seemed to scan it quickly and precisely.
'What's this?'
There was a moment the bookkeeper felt a subtle sense of unease. The man, who had been bowing his head, suddenly lifted it. With a voice still faintly trembling, he gently spoke.
"Uh, there seems to be a slight error in the calculations."
"What do you mean?"
The trembling in his voice disappeared, and the man, stiff from being bound, leaned back. He spoke calmly.
"There's something missing in the calculations."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Our side's expenses weren't included."
The man, as if he had lost all fear, began to speak confidently. His words were now clear and direct, unlike when the bookkeeper had hesitated, counting off prices.
"Thanks to the nailing done by you guys, it cost us ten silver coins to replace the door; the cost to repair the broken window was five silver coins, and to replace the table, it cost one gold coin…"
As he smoothly continued his long list, it was clear that the gambling hall owners were shocked by his audacity. His endless calculations finally stopped when they far exceeded the losses they had initially presented him.
"…Finally, this rude and uncreative kidnapping has had a significant negative impact on my mental and physical well-being, so for damages, one hundred gold coins."
The man, who finished with a baffling sentence and a sly smile, opened his eyes and looked ahead. His gaze, free of fear or concern, seemed to suggest that this situation was merely a game. The light in his eyes shone brightly, like a radiant star, round and gleaming.
"Well, it seems like it's you guys who need to repay now, doesn't it?"
The man, still smiling, turned the contract so that the stamp section faced the gambling hall owners. One of the gambling hall owners, his face flushed with embarrassment from the mocking tone, abruptly stood up, kicking the chair aside.
"You must really want to die!"
The bookkeeper, who thought the gambling hall owner was a thoroughly unpleasant person with little worth in the world, couldn't help but agree with that sentiment at this moment.
The man acted as though he had no fear, like someone walking around with his heart exposed. Didn't he value his life? If things went on like this, he'd pay a terrible price, whether his fingers were severed or his skin seared by a heated brand.
But at the same time, the bookkeeper found himself unconsciously swept up by the man's confidence, thinking, 'Maybe… he'll be okay.'
Just as the bookkeeper had that thought, the man suddenly leapt to his feet.
"…..!"
No one understood what happened in that moment. The restraints that had bound the man suddenly disappeared without a trace, leaving nothing to obstruct his movements.
The man, smiling, drew a long arc with his hand, and the only light that had illuminated the basement flickered out. The darkness took over.
"Catch him, catch him now!"
The flustered voices of the gambling hall owners could be heard. The hurried movements of the thugs followed with a flurry of noise. They scrambled to find the wall and fumble around for the light switch. Amidst the chaos, a very distinct sound echoed through the air.
Snap!
It wasn't the sound of the gambling hall owner's stubby fingers. It was the sound of long, slender fingers snapping, the kind of sound made by a man with firm bones and long digits. Even amid the confusion, the calm voice issuing the command was unmistakable.
"Take them all down."
Then, something began to move in the darkness. Without a single sound of impact, without a punch landing. It was as if the shadows of the night themselves came alive, choking the enemies' necks. Only the dull sound of bodies hitting the ground could be heard, resonating through the air. The fear in the darkness surged to its peak, and everyone let out a mixture of confused gasps. In the midst of the chaos, a sudden light appeared, causing everyone to squint.
As the bookkeeper trembled, waiting for his turn, the longed-for light finally returned. Around him lay the thugs, collapsed on the ground. The gambling hall owners were bound in restraints. In between them stood two figures, unmoving like statues.
One stood silently like a strange, stone-like figure, watching over the man. The other stood beside him, holding a lantern in one hand. That man fixed his gaze on the bookkeeper, grinning slyly like a cunning fox.
"Shall we start over from the beginning?"
The bookkeeper swallowed hard and nodded. It felt like the only appropriate thing to do.