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Chapter 32: Mind the Gap
🕑 Added 2024-11-03 03:45:26 +0000 UTCChapter 32: Mind the Gap
Briefly, I considered taking Damien’s report from bed, before dismissing the idea. It would be a touch too disrespectful, enough to breed the embers of resentment, even after how easily I put him in his place last time. Also, I’d yet to obtain a way to open doors from a distance. Climbing out of bed begrudgingly, I made use of my inventory’s mundane utility, and summoned my ill-gotten gambeson on top of my regular clothes, figuring that a bit of protection couldn’t go amiss for the upcoming meeting.
[Pumpkin the Cat withdrawn.]
Pumpkin came along for the ride, landing on my head as the gambeson fell into place.
“Have you been sleeping in my clothes?” I asked suspiciously, having encountered such behaviour from cats before.
Pumpkin meowed, sounding rather ambivalent.
“Will, are you in there?”
Damien was getting rather insistent in his knocking, so I put the matter aside and promptly ignored him. Just briefly, mind you, long enough to grab one final item for the trip ahead.
[Jug of water stored.]
The inn’s complimentary tap water, now a permanent fixture of my inventory: I figured I could maybe spook a few people by repeating the water trick I’d gotten Damien with, and even if that wasn’t needed, a portable source of potable water would never be a bad thing to have. Only then did I finally open the door and let Damien in.
“Are you ready to go?” Damien asked immediately, looking around my room as if expecting it to be in a state of disarray.
“Yes,” I replied brusquely, a bit offended at the insinuation: I’ll have you know I’m a very neat fellow. “The meeting is now?”
“Walk with me,” Damien replied, already heading for the stairs.
I followed along, intrigued: the boy had never been so taciturn before, and I couldn’t help but wonder at the reason behind that. As amazing as I was, surely the humiliation I’d inflicted couldn’t have been the sole cause of such a drastic change in personality? I pondered the question as we left, idly waving goodbye to the Innkeeper. I’d missed a number of meals, and thus overpaid, but I wasn’t about to quibble with him over it: especially this he might discover I’d stolen back my money, if he were inclined to check his drawer.
“So, mind telling me who we’re meeting?” I asked conversationally as we headed away from the main street. “In broad daylight too. I was expecting something in a dark alleyway on a rainy night.”
“You’ve read too many heroic sagas, real life doesn’t work like that,” Damien’s lip twitched, a flicker of life back in his voice as we traded jibes, before his face flattened again. “Seriously though, I’m not going to blindfold you or anything, just know that you’ll be in big trouble if you tell anybody. Be respectful as well, when we arrive, I’ve told them about your trick with the water, it won’t work a second time.”
I just shook my head at that: somehow, Damien had fixated on the idea that I was a water mage of sorts. Oh well, I didn’t mind indulging his delusions for a little while longer. True to his words, we were actually heading into the nice part of town, where their houses were clean, the road free of cracks, and the households mostly owned their property rather than holding it in the name of the mayor. It was also the area furthest from the orphanages, and there were typically no orphans within line of sight, present company excepted. It didn’t mean much, in a town with maybe a few thousand people at most, but even at such a small scale, society still found a way to divide itself.
The house we eventually stopped at was, to be frank, identical to the other ten along the terraced row, to the point where I’d be hard pressed to remember the location even without the aforementioned blindfold. Damien was first to the door, giving it one hard knock, followed by three softer, rapid taps, and another hard knock to finish. The door swung open at the obvious secret handshake, and I followed him in. The insides were unimpressive, to put it mildly.
Wooden crates adorned every free space along the corridors, shelves were packed to bursting with them too, and the overall effect was a cramped, claustrophobic space reminiscent of the aisles at an Asian supermarket. Taking care not to step on anything breakable, I followed Damien’s footsteps, to eventually make out of the entryway of doom, and to two odd-looking men sat at a coffee table, with a third leaning against the wall at the back, all of them looking my way as Damien and I sat opposite the pair.
[Little Boy - Level 1 Thief]
The man to my left, diagonally, was a thin, wiry fellow in keeping with his epithet. His pale skin belied a pair of shifty blue eyes, almost hidden under thick blonde locks of hair, locking first on to me, to Damien, then flitting every which way with each passing second.
[Fat Man - Level 1 Brawler]
His counterpart, and I could scarcely believe the name tags I was seeing, was considerably more rotund, albeit accompanied by obvious muscles along his bare arms and legs, akin to those of a sumo wrestler, though not quite so extreme in size. His face featured a broken and crudely repaired nose, and the signature cauliflower ears of a boxer, testament to his willingness to fight, if not his effectiveness.
[-]
The man against the wall, on the other hand, was the most interesting of all. Classless, at least by appearance, something that was said to spark unease in observers, so used to the System as everyone in this world was. A method of intimidation, perhaps, backed by the fact that he alone didn’t seem nervous: the two sitting opposite tried to hide it, but the twitching eyes and shaky limbs made it rather obvious. His position, likewise, would suggest he was a mere guard or onlooker, but by my reckoning, he might well be something more.
“So, who am I talking to here?” I eventually broke the silence, as nobody else seemed willing to. “Damien was rather recalcitrant to mention any of you.”
