Rumours (8)

Shaking with fear, the bookkeeper revised the contract in front of me, while I casually tapped my foot. The two gambling hall owners, who had been knocked out by a well-placed blow to their vital spots, showed no signs of regaining consciousness.

'How hard did you hit them…?'

Meanwhile, Leonardo wore a thoroughly satisfied expression. Naturally.

[Is it time now?]

[Not yet.]

As the kidnappers transported me to the basement with a burlap sack over my head, I stumbled and fumbled, unable to see my feet. They had to lift me up to carry me.

[Is it time now?]

[Not yet, just a little longer.]

As the thugs surrounded me, trying to intimidate me with harsh words, it happened again.

「Now…?」

[Ugh. I told you to wait.]

When the gambling hall owner pressed his face close and forcefully insisted on the contract, I found myself struggling to hold back. His impatience was overwhelming, but at least it had cleared my head a bit.

He had taken down the thugs with ease, and the gambling hall owners had been properly dealt with, so the frustration that had been building up lately seemed to have eased.

The bookkeeper handed me the newly revised debt contract. I smiled brightly and gave his shoulder a friendly tap.

"Nice work. So, how would you feel about working with me?"

He pulled a chair over and sat facing me, fumbling slightly as he replied.

"Well, the thing is, I'm already bound by a contract, so I'm kind of stuck working here…"

"Ah, I see. So you're working here because of gambling debt, huh? That makes sense."

"Yes, yes… It's a mistake from my younger days…"

"Oh dear, that's tough. By the way, would you mind giving me a little hint on where you keep the ledger? Just between us."

"Well… if you look at the floor in the office, there's a spot where the floorboard is loose. Inside that, there's a double-locked safe…"

"You got that?"

Leonardo nodded silently and briefly left the room. In the meantime, I opened the lid of the oak barrel left in the basement, poured myself a drink, and handed the glass to the bookkeeper.

"Stop shivering and drink some, it's a bit cold lately."

"Th-thank you."

He took a few sips, but since he didn't seem to enjoy drinking much, he quickly set the glass down. Leonardo returned, holding a thick ledger. The bookkeeper was stunned.

"W-what…? How… The key is only with the owner…"

"There's always a way."

As a rule, when you're in good health, life tends to get a little easier. 

I quickly flipped through the pages. Names of those who had gambled away their lives in the back alleys of El Dante, their addresses, detailed accounts of their debts, records of interest rates and usury—they all lined up in neat rows. I continued flipping through the pages, and just as the bookkeeper flinched, I stopped.

"Is this… you?"

"Y-Yes, yes. That's correct."

I gave a slight smile as I observed the bookkeeper's obedient response.

"How long have you been working here?"

"About… 8 years, roughly…"

"And yet, you still haven't paid off the debt?"

"Th-the interest grew larger than the principal…"

"Ah, I see. You seem good with numbers, but what did you originally do?"

"I… used to manage the accounting books for wage workers, but… well, I was encouraged by the workers here to visit the gambling hall, and in one night, I ended up with a debt."

"That's unfortunate."

I sighed and gave him a look of sympathy. The bookkeeper lowered his head, fumbling with his words.

I gently asked, "So, what if I told you I could erase this debt?"

"Eh? H-how…?"

"Well, there's a way here."

With a flick of my wrist, I tore out a page from the ledger and waved it over the flickering flame in the lamp. The bookkeeper swallowed hard.

"Instead, I have a small favour to ask. Of course, if you refuse, it can't be helped, but you'd make me happy if you help."

The bookkeeper's trembling eyes cleared, and with burning desire, he eagerly agreed.

"What kind of help do you need?"

"Just tell me a story."

With this, all the evidence was gathered.

From what I've found out, the church prohibits gambling, so if I deliver both this bookkeeper and the gambling hall owner to the church, they would be subjected to punishment under church law. 

If this were the Middle Ages, there might be a chance that the corrupt church would turn a blind eye to it, but… the church here is full of righteous individuals, dedicated to protecting its integrity from the cracks that might form due to its own aging. Moreover, Count Ertinez, who governs the territory, is not the kind of ruler to overlook gambling or fraudulent activities, so the outcome is certain.

I shook my head as I listened to the bookkeeper's story.

"To charge 60% interest on the principal… what were they thinking?"

'Greedy pigs.'

"Yes, they're greedy, like pigs. If they fail to repay within the deadline, the interest doubles. And when I refused to accept the terms, they sent debt collectors to my home to make my life miserable."

The bookkeeper, whether trying to please me or simply overwhelmed by the sweetness of the freedom he hadn't tasted in eight years, eagerly chimed in.

"Exactly. They were such nasty people. They can't go around tormenting others like that."

I smiled kindly and agreed, and the bookkeeper's eyes sparkled with excitement. Honestly, I hoped he'd calm down a bit—his enthusiasm was a bit overwhelming.

"Um, if it's not too much trouble, what are you planning to do?"

"Curious? Would you like to see right now?"

I smiled gently and snapped my fingers. Leonardo kicked the oak barrel with a thud, rolling it before lifting it and pouring it over the gambling hall owners. The two gamblers, drenched in alcohol, widened their eyes. They looked around in confusion before spotting me, and their bodies twitched in alarm.

"You… you bastard! How dare you…"

"You're going to make my ears bleed."

I muttered about the noise, and Leonardo, with remarkable skill, stuffed a piece of cloth into one of the gambler's mouths, silencing him. I hadn't instructed him to do that, but he seemed oddly experienced at it…

The gamblers, now realizing the presence of Leonardo—dressed in dark clothes and surrounded by the unconscious thugs—seemed to finally understand the gravity of the situation. Their fear escalated, especially with their hands bound to the chairs.

I smiled lightly and taught them a lesson in reality. I shook the secret ledger playfully in my hand, striking a pose as if I were praying.

"If you're caught, you're going to get a real beating, right?"

The gamblers twisted and struggled, trying to resist. But as soon as Leonardo kicked their chairs roughly, their movements stopped. I gestured to him, and he loosened their gags. One of the gamblers protested.

"If anything happens to us, do you think the thugs and debt collectors we've been working with will just leave you alone? They're the kind of people who'd kill to protect their money!"

"Ah, I didn't think of that," I said, snapping my fingers in an exaggerated motion as if struck by sudden realization.

"Maybe we can just treat it like an accident? Why not start a fire? That'll solve everything, right? I've done it a few times. When you want to clean things up, that's the best way."

I spoke with a tone that was a mix of truth and fabrication, drawing from both my own experiences: once for starting a fire voluntarily, and once when a tavern was set on fire. My words carried a strange authenticity. As I recounted the experiences, I deliberately acted with a hint of madness, and the gamblers flinched, looking at me as though I was insane.

"So, what do you want from us?" one of them asked, clearly panicked.

"Nothing, really."

In many stories, the figure with an unclear purpose, acting out of pure self-interest and unpredictability, is often portrayed as the most dangerous. I tilted my head slightly, adopting the role of such a character.

"Tell me, do you even have anything to offer? You've both joined forces to kidnap me and treat me poorly… Ah, never mind. One of you will have to be made an example of. But now, who should I let to live? I just can't decide."

"…! It's me, save me! I can tell you where the ledgers of the other gambling house owners are hidden!"

"No, save me!"

I nudged them lightly, and soon enough, their voices grew frantic as they competed to reveal their secrets. It was clear to me that if this continued, one of them would end up dead or their business would burn to the ground.

In a desperate race for survival, they began spilling information: from the ins and outs of the back alleys, to the locations of debt collectors, the state of their partners' affairs, and even where they had hidden their black funds. Ah, looks like I've found a little treasure.

After a few prompts and enthusiastic responses, I had finally squeezed everything I could out of them. Clapping my hands, I grinned widely.

"You two are very useful. Alright, I've made my decision."

The two gamblers stared at me in fear. I stood up, delivering my verdict as if I were a benevolent judge.

"I'll turn both of you over to the Church's tribunal."

"What?!"

"Thanks for spilling everything so easily. And don't worry, I'll take care of the gambling house buildings too. Don't be too angry, it's all for legitimate reasons, after all. Do you remember this debt letter? It's a fair transaction," I said, waving the contract with the added clauses in front of them, my voice dripping with mockery.

The two gamblers' faces flushed red as they began to shout, but before they could say another word, Leonardo swiftly knocked them out with a precise blow to the back of their necks, rendering them unconscious.

The bookkeeper hesitated before speaking up.

"Well, what if they report your business or this place to the authorities after they go to the Church's tribunal?"

"Hmm? That would be a problem if it's a gambling house. But according to this contract, I haven't acquired the property through any illicit means. Besides, it's no longer going to be a gambling house starting now."

I explained, tapping the contract in my hands. The agreement, which had been coerced out of the two original owners, neatly stated that the buildings were being transferred as compensation for the malicious damage done to the Broken Goblet—the bar and tavern involved in the dispute.

As is often the case in this era, the contract relies on honour and good faith, but that doesn't matter to me. If the Church decides to investigate, it's just to prove that the ownership transfer was legitimate. The surface-level transfer details, including the business operator now being the new owner of Broken Goblet ensure that any suspicion will never fall on me.

"Well, both the Broken Goblet and the gambling business… I was planning on wrapping things up and moving towards a more legitimate venture. I'll clear out excessive debt papers and give people here a chance to restart with legitimate work," I said, looking over the operation and considering what steps to take next.

"And the back alley… are you trying to change it?" the bookkeeper asked, his eyes widening slightly at the thought of something that bold.

"Why not make it look clean on the outside? For starters, there's already the tavern. I could set up a hotel, maybe even a restaurant," I mused, tapping my chin. 

"As for the debt collectors and thugs… well, I'll take care of the ringleader, hand them over to the guards. The rest will be left to fight for scraps. They won't last long without leadership."

I had already gathered all the necessary information from the two gamblers about their hideouts and operations. That would make the process easy—especially with Leonardo's talents for persuading people.

"What about the gamblers themselves?" the bookkeeper asked, a bit more hesitant now.

I gave the ledger a small shake, making the pages rustle. With the conversation wrapping up, I had realized that this ledger wasn't just a record of debts—it was a list of addicted gamblers, individuals so deeply involved in the games that they resorted to usury to feed their habits. Once I handed this ledger over to the Church's tribunal, the authorities would take care of the rest.

The addicted ones would be taken off the streets, cleansing the area of that toxic element. Sure, some minor gamblers might still show up, sneaking around, running small operations. It would be difficult to entirely stop that.

But with the root causes of the gambling ring—these key players—removed from the equation, the remaining petty players would have a much harder time trying to rebuild the networks. Without the necessary foundation, their attempts would surely falter.

"Although the back alley will always be what it is, we can raise its lowest standard a little bit," I said, tapping my fingers on the table, envisioning the future of this place. 

We'll turn a blind eye to casual entertainment, but as soon as the line is crossed, that gambling ring will suddenly collapse. Over time, everyone here will learn the new unwritten rules of this street. The bookkeeper hesitated, then leaned in, lowering his head. 

"Would you… possibly need an accountant?" he asked, his voice a little shaky.

"Ah…"

I smiled, tossing the paper with his debt records into the flames. 

"I just found one," I said, watching the paper curl and burn. 

And just like that, the work for the night was done. With all things considered, it had been a satisfactory outing.