Chapter 50

"Would you give me a hundred pounds?"

I had never expected Lucian to lead me into the gutter.

Still, I hadn't paid much attention to Louis entering the chess tournament at the time. I wondered about it for a while, but when I couldn't find an answer, I set the unimportant matter aside.

The chess club tournament began that very afternoon, and it took up most of my attention.

There were two obvious benefits to entering the chess tournament.

First, I could earn a little money.

I wasn't expecting to win the top prize of a thousand pounds. After all, I had only recently learned chess, and I didn't know much about opening strategies, middle-game positioning, or winning endgames. I was just a little better than a beginner. In my spare time, I had also read through a basic chess manual. My goal was the hundred pounds for fourth place. With a little of my previous savings added to it, I could buy a relatively warm down jacket.

Second, I could keep Lucian and Frida within sight by asking them to watch me play. Lucian was more than happy with that arrangement. He was also short of excuses to spend all day openly glued to his girlfriend, Frida.

The preliminary round of the knockout tournament began at two in the afternoon on the third day of the Noah's cruise and ended at six. There would be a thirty-minute break between each knockout round, and only sixteen players would remain at the end. It hadn't begun on the first day because the organizers needed the first two days to process the entrants' information and arrange the matches.

The chess tournament would continue until Christmas Eve.

The venue was an unused auditorium in Building B. Its wooden floor was smooth and polished to a shine, and looking up from below, a vast open space stretched out before you. The windows were stained glass. When light came through from outside, patches of color appeared on the floor.

The tables for the matches were arranged neatly in an eight-by-eight grid, giving the whole place a strong sense of ceremony.

Stepping into the auditorium gave me a disorienting sense of being both a chess piece and a player looking down on the board.

It felt wonderful.

I heard that at least 170 people had entered, including quite a few who were just there for fun.

I had originally assumed that the organizers also considered it a recreational game and had therefore kept the entry requirements low. Anyone could join, no matter how young, and there were no separate men's and women's divisions. But when the number of entrants exceeded expectations, the organizers had to manage the schedule by first eliminating those who had never played chess before. He kept the number to 128 or fewer.

Lucian told me, however, that many people in Britain had played chess since childhood. Those who knew they had some skill and wanted to join the fun had all come along. Besides, the Attwood family had arranged this chess tournament specifically to attract more sponsorship. In fact, a quarter of the participants were players who were already at a semiprofessional level or higher.

Overall, the champion would be one of the professional players.

He added that, as the shipowner's son, he was also obliged to take part and help liven up the tournament.

I instinctively asked, "What if you lose your first match?"

Lucian cleared his throat several times and whispered in my ear, "There are under-the-table arrangements. They'll get me into the top eight, at least."

"So you know how to play

chess?"

That was what surprised me.

Even if they fixed things behind the scenes and gave him easy opponents first, he would eventually have to face professional players. He couldn't just bluff his way through that.

Lucian looked dejected at my surprise and explained, "Chess is one of the hobbies I've been learning since I was three. I do know how to play."

That suddenly made me worried. I had only played nonprofessionals before, but now things were getting serious. Would a dabbler like me get wiped out right at the start?

Luckily, I hadn't told Watson, Mrs. Hudson, and the others that I had sneaked over to enter the tournament. Otherwise, if I were utterly crushed right at the start, they could spend an hour agonizing over how to comfort me.

I had to find a way to avoid losing too badly.

At 1:50 p.m., the contestants began filing in.

The opponent sitting across from me was a young man a few years older than I was, around twenty-six or twenty-seven. He was impeccably dressed and handsome. He wore a beaming smile, as though he had piled all his happiness onto his face, and his eyes sparkled with lively light. His clothing clearly marked him as a member of high society; the details of his designer clothes reflected quality and taste.

"Hello, I'm your opponent in the first round." He held out a hand to me and said amiably, "I'm Daly Bell. I hear you're from the Mathematics Department at the University of London."

I didn't think my name and background were already widely known.

Considering that the information he had about me was limited to "the Mathematics Department at the University of London," someone he knew must have been in the same department as me. There was an ease and elegance to his manner, as though he was accustomed to dealing with the social elite. Besides that, Daly Bell's clothes and accessories also suggested that his social circle had a very definite target: people from high society.

Taking all that into account, the first thing I thought was that he knew Lucian Attwood. But if Lucian were close to him, he wouldn't spend all day hovering around me and looking for me every day.

In response, I said, "Yes, I'm He Xue. May I ask what work you do for the Attwood family?"

As soon as I said that, I saw a flash in Daly Bell's eyes, and his smile froze. "How did you know I work for the Attwood family?" he asked in confusion.

"Was I wrong?" I asked.

Daly Bell looked as though he were wearing a smiling mask; the curve of his smile had barely changed from beginning to end. "No, you're right. I'm the director and financial officer of the Noah cruise ship design project."

He didn't want to continue discussing the subject with me. After saying that, he released my hand and turned his gaze to the chessboard, as if considering how to open. I glanced at the electronic clock in the middle of the auditorium, and the scene involuntarily overlapped with memories from the past.

The noise around me beat against my eardrums like the tide.

Just as my mind wandered, Daly Bell's voice pulled me back to reality.

"Her..." Daly Bell paused, then asked, "Have you played chess before?"

"Someone taught me how to play for an hour. I basically know the rules, so I won't make random moves," I replied seriously.

In a setting like this, where professionals and amateurs were mixed

together, one problem was that amateurs didn't even know the rules. That could really spoil the fun for some players.

After hearing me out, Daly Bell's smile deepened, but he apologized. "In that case, I'm sorry. My victory might be a little unfair. I've competed in regional chess tournaments and won a championship."

I see.

I didn't feel I should be discouraged by an unfavorable start. After all, you would always run into people stronger than yourself in the course of a game. That was where the fun lay.

I was just about to reply when a voice came from behind me. "Don't lose."

The voice seemed to descend from the sky. I looked up and saw Louis's cold, stern face, which reminded me of the expression Professor Moriarty sometimes wore when he was deep in thought.

Our eyes met, and he seemed to be making sure I had taken his words to heart. Then he left without another word, as if nothing had happened.

By the time I turned back to Daly Bell, an announcement that the tournament was about to begin had come on, filling the entire auditorium.

Before the match began, we had to decide who would go first.

I spoke first. "How about rock, paper, scissors? One round decides it."

In most board games, the first player had an advantage, such as an advantage in development and control of the opening, and could also use the first move to put pressure on the opponent. The same was true in Go. Because the first player had a higher win rate, the second player was automatically given a corresponding number of points at the start to ensure fairness.

Daly Bell smiled. "All right." Though his smile was friendly, his eyes showed challenge and pride, as though he were very confident in his chess skills.

Ten seconds later, I had black and would move second.

Daly Bell opened with e4, moving the pawn near his queen two squares forward to occupy the center. In chess, a pawn could move one or two squares on its first move, but only one square at a time afterward. I followed his lead and moved two squares forward as well, playing e5. It was a common opening that could lead to the Two Knights Opening or the Italian Opening, usually as part of a struggle for control of the center.

Next... it depended on where White's second move went.

Daly Bell moved his queen straight to f3. It was an unusual move, because when developing pieces, the first player generally wouldn't expose the queen so early in the opening. If I didn't want my pawn captured, the simplest idea was to move it to e6, away from the queen. After all, pawns couldn't move backward.

I fell silent.

It wasn't because his queen would restrict my moves, but because this approach was called Scholar's Mate. It was used to teach beginners how to checkmate the opposing king in the fewest possible moves. At this point, I had to protect e5. If his queen captured my pawn and took e5, my king would be trapped.

I looked up at Daly Bell. He was watching me smugly and contemptuously, apparently waiting to see how I would respond.

That suddenly made me think his expression would be very interesting if he lost.

I lowered my head again and played d4.

I had completely forgotten my worry about losing.

Now I wanted to kill his queen within twenty moves.

Nineteen minutes later, our

game was gradually approaching the endgame.

The key to Scholar's Mate was a rapid attack. I used that to start drawing him into my fast-paced game, making the position more chaotic and complicated. When I saw that his king had also been exposed to danger through an oversight, I promoted a pawn without hesitation, turning it into a more powerful piece.

My hand crossed the board, placing the pawn on the checkmating square and striking straight at the heart of his position.

That move left Daly Bell's king surrounded and in an irretrievable predicament.

I saw that Daly Bell's smile had vanished completely. His face turned pale, and his eyes lost focus, as if he were no longer sure of his own victory. His brows were deeply furrowed, his expression full of frustration and disbelief, and he remained motionless for a long time.

I reminded him.

"You've already lost."

After I said that, Daly Bell, who had been sitting motionless, suddenly snapped in anger. "You clearly know how to play. You lied to me."

He reached across the board and grabbed for my collar, raising his other hand as well. I was about to dodge, and with a table between us, he probably wouldn't have had his way so easily. But Louis appeared from somewhere and grabbed his arm. He must have pressed on a tendon in his hand, because Daly Bell pulled it back in pain.

"Don't be such a sore loser." Louis stared at him coldly.

Louis's words brought Daly Bell back to his senses. Noticing that people around him were looking over because of the commotion, he immediately lowered his head and left.

Looking at Louis's back, I fell silent. "..."

Honestly, I didn't think I was incapable of handling that situation, but having him there had indeed made it easier to resolve.

For now, all I could do was thank him.

I had just thanked him sincerely, but there wasn't a trace of expression on Louis's face. His eyes seemed to reveal an icy ruthlessness. His voice had an unpredictable depth that made one uneasy.

"If you really want to thank me, make a bet with me." Louis's voice was like a cold wind, utterly devoid of emotion.

"A bet?" I hadn't expected things to take this turn and hesitated. "A bet on what?"

Louis turned his youthful face toward me, his eyes seeming to conceal a deeper scheme. His manner exerted an unfamiliar pressure.

"If I beat you, from now on, whenever you hear the name Moriarty, you'll automatically stay away and never appear before us again."

I had never imagined someone would help me avoid meeting Professor Moriarty for a legitimate reason.

And that person was none other than Professor Moriarty's own younger brother, Louis.

I suddenly felt a weight lift from my shoulders, but I still had one small concern.

"There's a saying in China: a drop of kindness should be repaid with a gushing spring. Since you want to make a bet, I'm willing to accept." I paused. "It's just that Asteroid Mechanics—"

Louis frowned at my words. "If it's about helping with the calculations, I can find you an excuse to decline."

"No, please ask Professor Moriarty to finish writing it sooner."

I was afraid that if he delayed or stopped updating it, he would never finish it.

"Even if you don't say anything, my brother William will finish the manuscript. He intended

to finish it within a year from the start."

Hearing that, I was completely relieved.

"All right, I'll bet with you," I readily agreed.

I couldn't think of any reason to refuse.

"Then come with me," Louis said.

I followed him, not understanding what was going on.

Only when we reached a fresh table with the pieces set up did Louis continue coldly, "Since you've won your match too, let's not wait for the break to end. We'll start the second game now."

His words left me stunned, and my voice grew somewhat strained. "Y-you're my next opponent?"

"Is there a problem?"

"..."

Yes, and a big one.

If I lost, I wouldn't get the hundred pounds.

That was a substantial sunk cost.

Louis ignored my reaction and quickly urged me to decide who would go first.

We decided the order with a coin toss.

Three seconds later, he was going second and I was going first.

Watching Louis wait for me to open with a serious expression, I hesitated for a long time, still having no intention of making a move.

Louis couldn't help urging me. "Do you have another question?"

I raised my head, uncertain. Under Louis's gaze, I finally gathered my courage and spoke word by word. "Would you be willing to give me a hundred pounds?"

My heart beat faster as I spoke.

This bet was no longer just a test of my chess skills, but a psychological contest as well.

I was now caught up in a more complicated game.

Louis frowned at my words, as though struggling to understand what I had said.

After the incident at the bookshop that morning, I believed Louis was hostile toward me, cared a great deal about my looking down on him, and had a very strong sense of pride. If I told him, "If you give me a hundred pounds, I can concede immediately," he would definitely think I was treating him with contempt.

That wouldn't do.

So I explained tactfully, "I need money."

Louis seemed to think he had heard something uninteresting. His face remained impassive, and his voice was utterly cold. "What does that have to do with me?"

"..."

Fair enough...

Sigh, I shouldn't have resorted to these little schemes.

Just then, Louis suddenly changed his tone, as though he had thought of something.

"It's only a hundred pounds. If you want it, I can give you a thousand." Louis turned his handsome eyes toward me. "After all, I never said what you would get if you won. That's fair, isn't it?"

He said it confidently, but all he wanted to say was that if I lost, not only would I get no money, I would also have to disappear from their sight. That could make the sense of disappointment in my heart even more illusory.

"Please do your best, Mr. Lanny."

But I looked down at the chessboard as though it were piled high with gleaming gold coins.

"Mm."

I would do my best.

That evening, as I sat in bed counting a thousand pounds in banknotes for the fourth or fifth time, I realized I had forgotten something very important. But I couldn't remember what it was, so I stopped thinking about it. Of course, that came later.