The Art of Poaching Talent

Fifteen Copper Nils a day!

That came to one Nalang and five Copper Nils a week, and a handsome four Nalang and twenty Copper Nils a month.

Gallo would only need to work at the other man's store for a month to make up the four Nalang in tuition he owed for middle school.

For ordinary people, that was an extremely tempting salary. It was more than twice a factory worker's monthly pay and could almost immediately resolve all of Gallo's family's financial troubles.

And on top of earning fifteen Copper Nils a day, he would be acting store manager. He wouldn't have to handle any odd jobs himself; he would only need to answer customers' questions when they came into the shop.

But... if it had been last week, Aofan's offer would have made Gallo accept on the spot. Back then, he had been destitute and in dire straits. Now, though, he was more content with his life as a freelancer.

Just as Gallo was about to politely decline, several other bookstore owners who had been eavesdropping nearby hurried over.

"Old Aofan, what do you mean by this? Trying to keep him all to yourself?"

"Mr. Gallo does business all along Lubo Lane. Why should he work for your shop alone?"

"You're breaking the rules!"

"Heh, why not just squeeze every other bookstore out of the street and open a library here? With Mr. Gallo helping you, it wouldn't be hard at all."

The bookstore owners loudly condemned Moron Aofan for trying to poach Gallo. Though Gallo wasn't affiliated with any of their shops, his presence on Lubo Lane had brought enormous benefits to most of them lately.

What Moron Aofan was doing would affect every other bookstore owner's interests. They knew Gallo's presence had boosted book sales all along the street. Tying him to a single shop would cut off the others' source of income.

The scene quickly grew chaotic.

Gallo calmly watched the commotion, understanding exactly what was going on.

But he didn't want to be tied down by any one bookstore. All he needed was free access to knowledge and a way to earn enough to improve his living conditions.

"Gentlemen, please quiet down."

Gallo raised his voice. It wasn't loud, but it carried a calming authority. "I'm grateful for Mr. Aofan's kind offer, and I appreciate that you all think so highly of me.

"But I have no plans to become a permanent employee or manager at any bookstore."

He looked around at the bookstore owners, most of whom seemed relieved. A few, however, looked as though they still wanted to make another attempt.

The Aofan Bookstore owner, for instance, gazed at Gallo as if he were a rare treasure.

Gallo composed himself and continued, "However, if you're willing, we could work together in another way.

"If you provide me with your daily records of books coming in and going out, along with records of any changes to the numbered locations of each book on your shelves, I'll be able to recommend books to my customers more accurately and quickly.

"That would benefit both my customers and your businesses, wouldn't it?"

The bookstore owners fell silent and exchanged glances.

The proposal sounded fair. It would essentially turn Gallo into a mobile, highly efficient, living book index.

Soon, a shrewd owner realized this would cost less than hiring Gallo, while potentially bringing in even greater returns—and without offending the other bookstore owners.

Perhaps all they had to do was privately offer Gallo a share of the profits and a few other perks. Then he could direct most of the customers he recommended toward their shop.

"Great! Mr. Gallo's idea is excellent!"

"I agree! I'll bring you my new book list right away!"

"I'll bring over the booklet with the numbered locations of the new books on the shelves, too!"

"You must be working so hard, Mr. Gallo. Please come to our shop whenever you need a break. I'll make sure you have a proper rest."

"Exactly! I've even prepared a gift to thank Mr. Gallo. I'll bring it over in a moment..."

Gallo smiled and shook his head. "Please don't give me any gifts. I won't accept them, even if you bring them to me in private.

"I'll refer customers to every shop equally. After all, whether you can meet a customer's needs depends on whether you have the book in stock, right?"

"Mr. Gallo, you really are a man of the highest moral character..."

What had begun as a struggle to claim Gallo had turned into a win-win partnership.

From that day on, stacks of daily stock records and samples of newly purchased books from the various bookstores often piled up beside Gallo's workstation.

He didn't even need to visit each store himself to keep nearly real-time track of most of the books available along Lubo Lane.

The bookstore owners tried to "win over" the young prodigy this way. Even when someone really did try to give Gallo a gift in private, he firmly refused.

He even bluntly warned them that if they tried it again, he wouldn't refer a single customer to their shop.

Gallo's conduct also earned him enormous popularity and prestige on Lubo Lane.

In less than a week on the street, the young man had built a reputation through his extraordinary abilities and admirable character—one that surpassed even the owner who had run a shop there the longest.

Evening.

Professor Vanason stood outside an elegant, upscale apartment building in the western district of Tin City, his unease growing heavier by the moment. He had gotten the address from a colleague in the school's administrative office.

If the address his colleague had found was correct, this was Professor Jeffrey's home.

The doors and windows were shut. Everything inside seemed silent; he couldn't hear a thing.

Vanason rang the doorbell several times and knocked hard on the door. After waiting for a long while, no one answered.

He considered calling out, but doing so in the silent corridor would have been terribly un-gentlemanly.

Just as he was about to give up and ask the apartment manager whether they had seen Professor Jeffrey come or go, he accidentally nudged the heavy oak door with his elbow.

The door silently swung inward a crack.

It had been left ajar!

"Unlocked?"

Vanason hesitated, staring at the opening. He remembered how Gallo had once used a coin for divination and concluded that Jeffrey was in danger.

Vanason didn't believe in divination or the occult, but his worry and unease left him no longer willing to hesitate. He pushed open the door and stepped into the dim interior.

The apartment's living room was understated and tasteful.

It seemed no one had lived there for a long time. A layer of dust covered the floor and some of the furniture. Vanason knew that Jeffrey had spent four whole months conducting research in the Southern Continent.

But now, the air in the living room seemed to carry a strange smell—a mixture of something charred and smoky, with another indescribable odor, as though something had been thoroughly "burned dry." It drifted through the crack beneath the door of the room next to the living room and into Vanason's nostrils.