Once the old man was sure there was no one on the stairs and that all the underlings were engrossed in their meal, he quietly shut the window and drew the curtains. Seeing these precautions, Fa Yinge knew immediately that the task at hand wasn't as trivial as the old man had suggested.
Sure enough, even with the room empty, the old man remained cautious. He leaned in close to Fa Yinge and whispered, "The boss wants us to find a fresh face—someone good-looking, clever, but easily controlled."
"A girl?" Fa Yinge asked.
"No, a boy. About two years younger than you, and clean-looking," the old man clarified.
"Is it for Ector again?" Fa Yinge asked, already guessing the nature of the task. This wasn't the first time something like this had come up. Ector was likely planning a big con.
"Why doesn't Ector find someone himself?" Fa Yinge inquired.
"This can't get out to too many people. Ector can't risk showing his face. He's the brains, but we're the hands. Only a few people know about this—just the boss, Ector, you, and me. The boss trusts you, so he handed this task to you," the old man explained.
"Give me some boundaries. I don't want to pick someone who ends up being recognized—things could get messy," Fa Yinge warned. His concern was justified; a few years back, they'd picked a stand-in who was recognized by one of the servants, and the fallout had been disastrous. Those two unlucky fellows were still rotting in prison.
"Stick to the nearby area. Don't ask too many questions—just make sure the kid has a clean background and no strings attached," the old man instructed.
"How much time do I have?" Fa Yinge asked.
The old man thought for a moment before replying, "Three days."
Feeling a weight lift off his shoulders, Fa Yinge left the old man's room.
Fa Yinge's bedroom was located between the third and second floors, just below the old man's quarters. Traditionally, this room was reserved for the head of the "golden fingers."
Returning to the room he hadn't seen in three months, Fa Yinge found it surprisingly clean, clearly having been tidied up on the old man's orders. His room wasn't much different from the others in the hideout, save for an extra table and slightly less dampness. It wasn't far removed from the prison cells he was used to.
Fa Yinge casually tossed his coat onto the table and lay down on the bed. Perhaps it was the beer, or maybe the excitement of the day, but sleep eluded him as he lay there, pondering the task the old man had just given him.
Fa Yinge knew the boss was planning something big, and any operation involving Ector usually promised substantial rewards. With a successful job, there might be enough funds to keep the hideout running, and perhaps the need to split off could be postponed.
In fact, from the specifics of the request, Fa Yinge could pretty much guess what Ector had in mind. He had seen this type of operation a few times before in his career as a golden finger. Ector would likely have the new face impersonate a recently deceased wealthy person's son to claim a large inheritance.
The thought of the newcomer living the high life during the con, enjoying things Fa Yinge might never experience, stirred a pang of envy in him. He could only imagine the pleasures through his thoughts. However, Fa Yinge knew that if asked to play such a role himself, he would flat-out refuse.
He had heard enough about these operations to know that, though the newcomers might enjoy luxury for a while, once the job was done, they became liabilities—dangerous ones. The boss, though not fond of killing, often found it the easiest solution. If the newcomers managed to escape this fate, they were sent far, far away.
The obedient ones received a small sum to start a new life. The uncontrollable ones either met a grim end or were sold off to foreign black market traders as slaves. Ector's recruits were highly prized on these markets, or so Fa Yinge had heard. As these thoughts swirled in his mind, sleep finally overtook him.
When Fa Yinge awoke the next day, the sun was already high in the sky. He dressed and went downstairs, where the remnants of last night's feast had been thrown together into a pot of stew. Normally, this would be a rare treat for the golden fingers, but Fa Yinge had no appetite for it today.
He quickly ate his fill and left the hideout. Fa Yinge was well-versed in finding new recruits; many of his golden fingers had been scouted from the slums. But given the old man's specific requirements, the usual slum kids wouldn't do. Years of hunger had left them with a deep-seated fear of life, and they were wary of everything, just like Fa Yinge himself.
Ector needed a fresh, clean recruit, someone good-looking. Finding such a person wouldn't be difficult for Fa Yinge. The city was full of child laborers, most of them from families that had come from other places in search of a better life. The lucky ones found work that kept their bellies full, particularly in the southern part of the city. That area had the busiest port in the region and was home to numerous shops and restaurants.
The boys who were quick-witted and good-looking often found work as runners in restaurants or clerks in shops. Restaurant work ensured they were at least well-fed, and if they did well, they might even earn tips. Working in a shop was even luckier. A skilled clerk was only a step away from becoming an assistant manager. With ten years of work, they might rise to the rank of deputy manager. These boys, considered the fortunate ones among the poor, had hopes and dreams for a better life. Among them, Fa Yinge was confident he could find the recruit Ector wanted.
With that in mind, Fa Yinge decided to head to Southport.
Southport was close to Laier, but still a good seventy kilometers away. For most people, a trip to Southport would require packing bags and carrying enough money for the journey. But for someone like Fa Yinge, a top-notch golden finger, such preparations were unnecessary.
Fa Yinge left the city and strolled along the road to Southport, waiting for a stagecoach heading that way.
Southport was a major hub, with countless stagecoaches traveling to and from it daily. All Fa Yinge needed to do was find one and slip unnoticed onto the luggage rack at the back. With the rack full of bags obscuring the driver's view, there was little chance of being spotted. It was an easy way to hitch a ride to Southport.
The Laier to Southport route was indeed busy. It wasn't long before Fa Yinge heard the sound of wheels crunching on the road and the rhythmic clip-clop of horses approaching from behind. He quickly hid behind a large tree by the roadside.
Stagecoach drivers weren't fond of kids like him wandering alone on the road. They knew all too well that these youngsters were likely looking for a free ride. The drivers kept a sharp eye out for them.
Fa Yinge knew the trick well. He waited behind the tree until the coach was just passing by, then swiftly jumped onto the luggage rack. Settling in, Fa Yinge enjoyed the ride, feeling the wind on his face as the trees blurred past and the occasional bump of the uneven road beneath him.
To be honest, if he weren't worried about being caught, Fa Yinge would have loved to shout with joy. He had even thought about owning his own stagecoach one day. Running the golden route from Seth Castle to Southport could earn four or five silver coins a day after expenses. That would amount to 1,800 silver coins, or 180 gold coins, in a year. In five or six years, he could earn enough to pay off the cost of the coach. A well-maintained coach could last about ten years.
Just the thought of earning nearly 200 gold coins a year excited Fa Yinge. But he knew it was just a dream. A coach cost seven or eight hundred gold coins, far beyond his reach. Fa Yinge had never considered skimming from his takings. That would be incredibly foolish. He knew the old man was aware of every theft in the city, down to the exact amount stolen.
Skimming a coin or two might go unnoticed, but anything more would be trouble. Fa Yinge had seen too many times what happened to golden fingers who broke the rules. At the very least, they lost a finger. As for those who resisted or tried to escape, they ended up at the bottom of the river east of Laier. No one could outwit the old man, and no one could evade a death warrant from the boss.
The boss had a man on his payroll who terrified everyone. Even Fa Yinge, bold as he was, shuddered at the thought of Kyler. Kyler was said to be the best assassin in all of the Kingdom of Frons, and no one ever escaped his blade.
This was how the boss had maintained his position for thirty years, and why neither the Southport Guild nor the lord of Seth Castle had ever launched a large-scale operation against the thief guild's stronghold in Laier, despite knowing exactly where it was.
None of them wanted to meet a mysterious death in their sleep. And no foreign thief guild had ever managed to establish itself in the South, thanks to Kyler. Thus, any attempt to deceive the boss or the old man was sheer folly. The only way Fa Yinge could ever hope to raise the money for a coach without breaking the rules would be after a split when he went independent. But independence brought a whole new set of challenges, and things could end up even tougher than they were now.