"Eight-Gun Captain" Rades

The corridor floor was covered in red carpet. Led by the waiter waiting at the stairway on the 2nd Floor, the swaying group went straight into the second room on the left.

The room was quite large, and the Gas Lamps had been turned up to their highest setting, bathing everything inside in resplendent light. Yet having just left the chaos downstairs, this normal scene instead seemed somehow distorted.

The room resembled an ordinary Reception Room, except for the enormous gambling table in the middle.

The tabletop was wider, and there were more chairs. A liquor cabinet stood against the wall, beside two heavily made-up women dressed quite improperly. Neither the drunkards nor the waiter acting as dealer noticed Shade, who clearly should not have been there. Having switched rooms, the group continued their earlier revelry.

Shade stood beside the sofa, trying not to draw attention as he looked for a chance to slip out into the corridor.

As he considered whether he should use Ignite to create a small disturbance and distract them, he heard the drunkard he had supported earlier say to a man sitting on the sofa with his head lowered, a scar at the corner of his mouth:

"Captain Rades, tell us again how, when those Southerners captured you, you fired eight shots into your own head in an attempt to kill yourself for the Kingdom!"

The drunkard burst into laughter. The mocked Captain Rades kept his head lowered and said nothing, only staring dully at his boots.

"Rades was only just ransomed back. Let's not talk about that. Why don't we find a pistol and have him demonstrate it for us? Hahahaha!"

The man holding three cards by the Card Table turned around and joined in. The room immediately filled with cheerful laughter. Taking advantage of their laughter and their turns mocking the "Eight-Gun Captain," who had only just returned Home after being captured, Shade successfully left the noisy room and returned to the corridor.

The walls and doors had excellent soundproofing. After taking a few steps, Shade could barely hear the uproarious laughter inside anymore. He walked forward along the wall. There was no one in the corridor, which instead worked to his advantage.

Though he did not know Where They Are keeping Little Franklin, according to the former Detective's records, the 2nd Floor of the Lucky Southern Cross Club had an emergency staircase leading directly outside, so Shade was not worried about being caught.

But just as he thought that, he turned the corner and saw a man walking toward him in a uniform clearly different from those worn by the casino Watchers downstairs.

Shade puffed out his chest and walked forward with his head held high, refusing to show any fear. Even so, the man stopped him.

"Sorry, sir. Please wait a moment. I don't think I've seen you before."

He reached for Shade's shoulder. Though Shade had no experience with close combat, his instinctive dodge unexpectedly succeeded. This made him realize once again that a Ring Arcanist's enhancement applied to every aspect of the body.

"Yes, I was invited upstairs. I went to the Washroom just now."

He explained.

"But Isn't the Washroom over there?"

The man pointed in the direction the Detective had just come from and gave him a puzzled look.

"You're quite nimble."

".The Washroom over there was broken. Those drunkards clogged the toilet with what they threw up. Oh, I really don't want to describe that sight to you."

Shade was rather impressed by his own quick thinking, but the man blocking him still frowned.

"Sir, you're not a guest on the 2nd Floor, are you?"

Although it was phrased as a question, his tone conveyed certainty.

Shade smiled awkwardly. There was no point continuing to argue. Fortunately, he had no dangerous items on him, and he had indeed done nothing bad at The Club.

"All right, I was just curious about the 2nd Floor. When some guests came upstairs earlier, I followed them up. I'll leave The Club immediately. I understand."

An unexpected situation had arisen, and Shade had no need to quarrel with gangsters running a casino over half a pound. He started to step back, but the man's next words stopped him again.

"Don't wander around in the future. The 2nd Floor and above are for distinguished guests. If you play here, you have to follow the rules. You don't need to leave either; you can continue on the 1st Floor. Wait, you're not here looking for 'Poor Man' Franklin, are you?"

He frowned.

"Mm, all right."

After considering the situation, Shade felt there was no need to lie. The other party was still being reasonable for the moment.

"If you mean a young man with small eyes, a face full of freckles, a Gray cap, and a Sailors' shirt, then yes. His father asked me to take him away."

"His father sent someone again? Come with me. Pay off what he owes, and you can take him."

The man beckoned Shade over and led him down the corridor.

"You should have said so on the 1st Floor. With people like him who owe gambling debts, we worry about finding someone to pay for them."

The people running the casino were unexpectedly reasonable.

"I thought... How much does he owe?"

Shade asked the crucial question. The accountant had promised that if his son owed money at the casino, the Detective could pay it in advance and be reimbursed later. But Shade himself did not have much cash.

"One pound and six shillings. Including interest, plus his food and lodging here these past few days, two pounds. Pay that, and you can take him."

The stakes on the 1st Floor were not actually high. For Little Franklin to lose so much in two days, he had probably never once bet correctly. But that was none of Shade's concern. Mr. Franklin could cover debts under ten pounds, and Shade happened to have two pounds on him.

The man added:

"Of course, since you're here on behalf of his father... just like Last Time, if you're willing to give us three pounds and six shillings, the casino can write you a receipt for five pounds to bring to the father of 'Poor Man' Franklin."

It took Shade several seconds to understand what the man meant. He had encountered such things in his original world, but he was still stunned by the business acumen of these otherworldly casino operators. After thinking it over, he shook his head.

"Thank you for the offer, but not this time. Slow and steady, you know."

He merely sympathized somewhat with Mr. Franklin, whose whole family was about to move away, and felt there was no need to make money this way. The man leading him did not mind and instead agreed with Shade.

"That's true. Slow and steady. Anyway, 'Poor Man' Franklin will Come Again."

Shade admitted that he had formed some rather wicked assumptions about The Club's so-called "debt repayment," but in reality, Little Franklin had merely been forced to help wash dishes in the kitchen. Once he washed enough, they would let him leave.

When the man led Shade into the kitchen, they happened to see a fat man in a Chef's uniform punch the small-eyed young man to the floor. Little Franklin, who Seemed frail, fell onto a floor covered in Rhodes Cards. Blood from his knocked-out tooth splattered across the cards.

At the far end of the kitchen sat a bloody pig's head. A steam pipe was spraying hot steam over it, and the fat Chef had apparently been handling it just moments ago.

"Stop hitting him. Someone came to ransom him."

The man leading Shade spoke lazily. He first waved away the kitchen stench before his nose, then held out his hand for Shade's money. Shade stuffed the two one-pound notes he had prepared into the man's hand, then pulled Little Franklin up from the floor.

"Your father asked me to—"

"Mr. Nite, he can't leave now. This damned brat tried to run away and even bit me."

The Chef said furiously, holding out his chubby hand to show the bloody tooth marks on it.

"Give me half a pound, or he can't leave."

PS: We've reached 1K bookmarks. The trial recommendation goes live on Monday, and the web version's placement isn't especially good. Qidian seems to use a PK system, so I hope this doesn't end after just one round.

Also, readers familiar with Xianyu should know that the author rarely writes pointless scenes. Every story so far has been laying the groundwork for the first major climax of the early arc.