Cheating

Hearing the fat chef's demand, Shade frowned and looked at the man collecting the money, the one called Mr. Nite. The latter shook his head.

"This is between you two. The Club won't stop him from leaving, but you need to persuade Fat Jack."

"I don't have any money left."

Shade pulled open the pockets on both sides of his coat. There was indeed nothing inside except a keyring and a notebook, because his money was in the inner pocket.

"I never expected him to owe this much money."

Little Franklin had already risen to his feet. He stood beside Shade with his head lowered, saying nothing. He might have been a bastard, but he knew that he could only leave by relying on this person, who did not seem much older than himself.

"No money?"

The fat chef bent down indignantly and picked up the four Rhodes Cards scattered across the floor. He showed Shade their suits: Sun 1, Sun 8, Star 13, and Emperor.

The Emperor and Empress were special cards independent of the four suits, somewhat like the jokers in Shade's world, though they had particularly interesting uses in Rhodes Card games similar to blackjack.

"Pick one from the four. If you pick the Emperor, you take him away. If you don't, he leaves all his clothes behind, and you leave your coat behind."

Speaking in a muffled voice, the fat chef began shuffling the cards behind his back. Then, with the hand bearing bloody bite marks, he held out the four cards face-down in a fan.

"Don't call me one of the bad guys. He was the one who bit me."

He snorted and gestured for Shade to draw quickly.

Shade blinked and reached out to stop Little Franklin, who was about to extend his hand.

"If your luck is good enough, I won't need to ransom you here."

As he spoke, the Destiny Ring within his soul slowly turned. Spirit urged the elements, and the elements affected reality. A faint trace of red appeared in his right eye, and Blood Echo reflected the bloodstains in Shade's vision.

The world in his eyes changed, and everything acquired a strange halo. Although Little Franklin had only sprayed a small amount of blood onto the cards, and all of it had landed on their faces, the Blood Echo spell still allowed Shade to see faint red traces in the air and the differing red-mist glows surrounding the four cards in the fat chef's hand.

He had already seen that the Emperor had received the most blood, so he knew almost immediately that the card he needed was the second from the left.

Was this bullying? I'd only just become a Ring Arcanist, and I was already doing this. That wasn't right.

Distractedly, he examined his own morals and values.

Then he extended a finger and rested it on the card at the far right. Rather than looking at the backs of the cards, however, he stared fixedly at the fat chef's face. The chef immediately stiffened his chubby features, trying his best to reveal nothing.

Mr. Nite and Little Franklin, standing nearby, were both drawn in by the scene.

"This one isn't it."

Shade said softly, moving his finger to the second card from the right. He stared at the chef's face for several more seconds.

"This one isn't it either."

He shook his head and moved to the correct card this time. Several seconds later, amid the fat chef's uncontrollable look of surprise, he slowly drew it out.

"This time, it is."

The card slowly turned over. It was the Emperor.

This definitely counted as bullying an ordinary person.

The thought still lingered in his heart.

"Damn it, I didn't realize you were an experienced gambler."

The fat chef was stunned for a moment, then angrily threw the other three cards in his hand to the floor.

"Take this damn brat and get out. If he owes money again and doesn't pay next time, he'd better pray he doesn't fall into my hands."

A relieved smile appeared on the accountant's son's pale face. Shade merely nodded. He did not judge other people's actions; he only knew that the Blood Echo spell would indeed be a great help to a Detective's work.

After giving Shade a receipt, the man decided to escort Shade and the dejected Little Franklin out of The Club, to keep them from wandering around inside. But just as the three of them reached the stairway on the Second Floor and prepared to head down, someone stopped them.

It was a woman around thirty, dressed like a maid. Her looks were ordinary, but she carried herself well.

She came down the stairs from the Third Floor.

"That Lady wishes to see you."

She looked at Shade and gave him a slight nod.

"Is there someone behind me?"

Shade immediately turned to look behind him, but there was no one there.

"Me?"

"Yes, sir. Please come with me. Your friend may wait on the 1st Floor for now."

The woman spoke, and Shade looked at the man leading them, puzzled. The latter shrugged.

"There is only one distinguished guest on the Third Floor tonight. If it is That Lady, you'd better go with her. She is an exceptionally noble Lady. As for him, I'll watch him for you and make sure he doesn't get near the gambling tables."

As he spoke, he slapped Little Franklin hard on the shoulder twice. The boy nearly toppled over, but he did not dare object to Shade leaving.

"May I know who That Lady is?"

Shade asked hesitantly. He suspected she might be the owner of The Club or someone similar. He even wondered whether Lassoya, Mr. Lawrence's "mistress," had discovered him.

But he did not understand why she wanted to see him. The previous Detective's only connection with this place had been Last Time, when he came to collect someone. Other than that, Shade had no social connections that could possibly link him to this club.

He was also worried about the Cat at Home and wanted to return as soon as possible, lest the newly arrived cat relieve itself on his bed or desk.

"That Lady is a titled noble and our most distinguished guest tonight. To protect her reputation, you cannot know the Lady's identity for the moment."

The maid-dressed woman spoke in standard Delarion Common Language. Only then did Shade nod slightly.

"Then why does she wish to see me? Forgive me, but I don't seem to know anyone of such noble status."

"Please come with me."

The woman who had come to lead him turned and walked upstairs. Shade hesitated slightly, then followed.

Compared to the relatively quiet Second Floor, the Third Floor was utterly silent. Judging by the decor, if Shade had not come up from below, he might have believed this was a floor of some art gallery.

Following behind the maid, he walked along the carpeted corridor while examining the oil paintings lining both walls. They stopped before a grand double door of gold. The maid pushed open the left door just enough for Shade to enter.

"That Lady is waiting for you inside."

Shade nodded again and waited for a second. When no voice in his head warned him that "elements" had appeared, he entered the room.

The maid closed the door from outside. With his back to it, Shade looked around the empty Reception Room.

The room's layout resembled the Doctor's Reception Room and consulting room.

A bookshelf occupied an entire wall, while carpet covered every inch of the floor. The desk, tea table, sofa set, and cabinet were all made of brown wood, giving the room the air of a business office.

Only the brass-colored metal box on the tea table was rather conspicuous. It looked like one of those gear puzzle boxes, requiring the large and small gears on all six sides to be rotated into a particular arrangement before it could be opened.

The steam pipes and gas pipes along the walls blended well with the paint color. Each of the surrounding walls had two Gas Lamps shaped like Angels blowing horns. Their warm yellow light, however, was no brighter than the Crystal Chandelier hanging overhead.

The three windows on the wall directly opposite the door were covered by heavy red-brown embroidered curtains, but Shade did not consider the possibility that someone might be hiding behind them.

It was utterly silent, and a chill crept into Shade's heart. Someone was watching him, but they were definitely not in this room.

PS: A reminder—remember the captain from the previous chapter. This shouldn't count as a spoiler, right?