"That's strange, I've never received a letter before. It might be from Mr. Rudolph!"
Silas unfolded the piece of parchment.
What the f*ck! This handwriting is horrible.
The date read "28, January 635."
"The date's today. This letter shouldn't have been written too long ago."
He kept reading the letter.
Huh, I can't understand anything.
Interrupting his thoughts, Malcom spoke up. "So what does it say?"
"Well, you see, it's written in a different language." Silas scratched the back of his head.
Before the two men could converse any further, a figure appeared in front of them.
It was a short, skinny man. His long beard was drenched from the rain.
His gray eyes darted from Silas to Malcom. The unease of the man's hollow face was unsettling to Silas.
He had a serious expression on his face, as if all his happiness had been drained.
Hey, this guy seems familiar. It's the tramp that was staring at me a day or two ago! What does he want with us?
However, Malcom seemed to recognize him. "Oh, hi Johnny, what's up?"
Johnny, the tramp, cleared his throat, and with a baritone voice said, "Are you guys trying to make some money?"
Silas, in his never-ending hunger for money, quickly answered.
"Yeah, I'm in."
I need those 1,000 Talends as quickly as possible.
"What's the plan?" Malcom asked, a bit more cautious.
Johnny cleared his throat, and in his serious demeanor started talking.
"I'm thinking of starting a small scam. I call it the elixir of youth."
"So you're going to be selling just a normal liquid to people, and you think they won't notice?"
Malcom easily saw through the tramp's plan.
"Well, here's the catch. We're going to be selling an actual potion. I was thinking of hiring an apothecary to make a concoction that would actually strengthen your body and clear up your skin to make you appear young."
"However, the effects would only last a week or so."
Ah, this is brilliant! Silas thought.
Sighing, Malcom finally agreed.
"Wait," Silas spoke.
"With what money are you planning to hire the apothecary?"
"Didn't you know? The king takes audits to loan out money. We'll just have to pay interest."
"Meet me here tomorrow at 12 so we can ask for an audit."
Johnny ended the conversation as he walked away into the rain.
...
Noes City, Sector 10
In a damp, abandoned building, Angelo Smith was trying to get a fire started, to no avail.
His red cloak had been soaked by the rain. He had started shivering.
Hearing footsteps from the outside, he paused his movement and carefully listened.
Angelo had heard about the dangers of the higher sectors of Noes City during the mission briefing.
Nothing could have prepared him for the countless attempts at robbery and assault, often done purely for entertainment.
A blonde female figure entered the abandoned building. It was Ruby Judge.
Letting out an exhale, Angelo said, "So, you delivered the letter?"
"Yeah, I gave it to the Lieutenant's messenger," Ruby responded, puffing up her chest a bit.
"Huh, what's wrong?"
Angelo dug his head into his hands.
"The Lieutenant doesn't have a messenger."
"What do you mean he doesn't have a messenger?"
Angelo let out a big sigh.
"You were supposed to deliver it via the normal postal service. It wouldn't arouse suspicion. Do you remember who you gave the letter to?"
After the catastrophe of East Shore Island, a postal service had been founded between the countries, in hopes of calling for help when needed and ensuring better communication. However, the service was ineffective.
Messengers frequently got lost in the Big Fern Woods or other natural barriers.
"Well, I gave it to a scrawny-looking kid. But I told him to give it to 'The Boss.' So who knows where it's ended up now," Ruby responded.
"Just rewrite the letter and I'll send it, but try your best to find the original one. Go to a divination shop if you have to!" Angelo scolded Ruby.
...
The rain continued to pour as Silas and Malcom stood in silence, processing Johnny's plan. Malcom was cautious, but Silas's mind was racing, already thinking of how to maximize the profits from this con. He'd never been averse to bending the rules for survival, especially in a city like Noes, where the powerful rarely played fair. The streets had taught him that if you didn't take risks, you stayed at the bottom.
"Do you really think this will work?" Malcom asked, pulling his hood up tighter to shield himself from the downpour.
Silas smirked. "Well, it's clever. If Johnny's potion does even a fraction of what he says, people will be lining up to buy it. Especially if we market it right."
"The thing is, Johnny shouldn't be trusted. Do you know how he ended up as a tramp? He tried to backstab his business partners, but it backfired."
Silas shrugged. "I'm not looking to trust him, just to get some money. Besides, with Baron Viridian on the run, people will be desperate for any solution to their problems. The city's falling apart. It's the perfect time to strike."
Baron Viridian was crucial to Noes City's economy.
As the richest man in the kingdom, he funded festivals, the Nero Division of The Royal Knights, and countless other random activities.
Malcom sighed, running his fingers through his soaked hair. "I don't know, man. Something about this feels off."
"It always does when you're about to make real money," Silas said with a knowing grin.
Before they could discuss further, Johnny reappeared from the shadows, his beard still dripping from the relentless rain. He moved with a peculiar haste now, like he was being hunted.
"We're meeting tomorrow at noon," Johnny reminded them. "Don't be late. And don't talk about this to anyone. The less people know, the better."
With that, Johnny disappeared again, vanishing into the gloom of the narrow alleyways, leaving Silas and Malcom alone once more.
"You coming?" Silas asked.
Malcom stared at him for a moment, then finally nodded. "Yeah, I'll be there. Just... never mind."