As someone who spent the entirety of their life roaming the underbelly of society in order to survive, Linkin had no choice but to be constantly aware of his surroundings. But, more important than that, in his line of work, Linkin had to know how to read and dissect people at a moment's notice. After all, one wrong move or word would have spelled his doom.
With that in mind, Linkin honed and refined his ability to read people over the years based on the smallest details they presented about themselves. And as a result, it reached a point where he could deduce a person's line of work and their likely personality traits with a glance.
It was due to this that Linkin was able to immediately tell that Lovell was Richard's client.
After all, one of the first things Linkin noticed when he saw the group was that while everyone else had on clean and tidy shoes, Lovell wore charred boots.
While he did not know the exact standard of merchants in this world, Linkin understood business. And what kind of person would entrust their business to someone who could not even keep up a basic and clean appearance? Or, at the very least, change shoes before a meeting.
A few seconds passed as the private room was still filled with a lingering deadly silence. It was obvious that both sides were waiting for the other to speak first; however, it was for two different reasons.
Lovell was not speaking first out of fear of saying the wrong thing. On the other hand, Richard and his group did not speak first as a power play to further shake Lovell's nerves.
The more anxious Lovell became, the easier it would be for Richard to devour him in any form of negotiations and completely control the flow of conversation.
'Fortunately for this guy, our dear merchant here is the impatient type and won't waste that much time on this power play. If he can hold out for a few more seconds, he should be-'
"Sir Richard, my smithy—is there really no way that it can be saved?" Lovell asked with a troubled expression.
'Smithy—looks like I was right on the mark. That being said, it's too late for this guy. Well, at least it would have been too late under normal circumstances.'
The moment Lovell opened his mouth to speak, Linkin internally sighed as he glanced over at Richard and saw a brief smirk of victory written on his face.
Without even realizing it, Lovell had already sealed his fate in just a few words.
'Fortunately for him, an ally of justice is here to lend him a hand in his time of need. Of course, even allies of justice have to find ways to feed themselves. So, naturally, shouldn't I at least gain a few things in the process for my act of kindness?'
Richard hid his expression well as he released a helpless sigh, shook his head, and replied, "We have already been over this, Mr. Lovell. Your smithy is no longer getting the same kind of business it used to receive in its glory days. If you continue to go on at your current pace, you will only end up senselessly working yourself to death. Perhaps you could afford to drag on if you only had to be concerned about yourself; however, you must think of your family. Would it not be a shame to have your wife and child suffer as a consequence of your stubbornness?"
The more Richard spoke, the greater the anguish that appeared on Lovell's face—especially when Richard brought up his family.
After a few moments of silence and deep thought with his head hung low, Lovell looked up at Richard with a conflicted gaze.
"The smithy has been in my family for generations. To sell it now—it would be no different than throwing away everything that my predecessors left behind. I love my family. I am willing to lay down my life for them without question. However, all I know is the smithy. It is my life. If I lose that, what other purpose do I have in this world?" Lovell said as he looked down at the palm of his hands that were steady and covered in calluses.
He then continued, "I know that my decision may be selfish, but... Sir Richard, I do not wish to abandon my family's legacy. I will work as long as it takes and put in twice—no, ten times the effort and hard work if there is even the smallest chance that things can work out. That's why, please—lend me your support."
Lovell lowered his head respectfully as he balled his hands tightly into fists in a display of desperate frustration.
"Mr. Lovell, you..." Richard uttered as his gaze traveled down to Lovell, who lowered his head; however, there was not a single glimpse of empathy on his face. Rather, a visible look of disgust could be seen in Richard's eyes.