Playing for Charles

Late at night, at the downtown pier in Avalon, an old man stood in the shadows of the dark night, silently smoking his pipe.

He was once the infamous and feared debtor of downtown, the source of many people’s insomnia—Ghosthand. But now, he sat on a worn wooden box, waiting.

Finally, a boat that smelled strongly of fish came through the still waters and stopped by the pier. A wooden plank was laid down like a bridge, and tanned fisherman began transporting fish and crabs onto land.

Ghosthand watched wordlessly as these valuables passed by him. First, there was the fish and crabs, then there was the wine, weapons, silk, and porcelain hidden deep inside the ship.

"Is that all for this time?" Ghosthand took the cargo list from the boatman. Taking a glance, his brows furrowed. "Who added in their cargo halfway through?"