Rebo's heart surged with joy as he carefully retrieved the necklace from the drawer, maneuvering through the clutter without disturbing the sharp blades scattered across the room. "Kayler, thank you for returning this necklace to me," Rebo said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.
In the darkness, Kayler nodded approvingly. "Well done. Even in your excitement, you didn't forget to be cautious. Finding the necklace in the dark shows that you've developed a killer's night vision. This past month hasn't been wasted. Starting today, you can return to your room. The day after tomorrow, Eckert will return, and you'd better be ready for your trial. It will be your first mission on your own. You may leave now."
With Kayler's dismissal, Rebo quietly returned to his room, which had been unoccupied for some time but was kept spotless by the diligent servants. Though it was still early, Rebo felt no desire to sleep. Kayler's training was over, and the next few days would offer a rare respite—a time to relax and gather his thoughts.
But despite this brief reprieve, Rebo felt uneasy. He wasn't mentally prepared to become a criminal, to live a life fueled by deceit and fraud. After spending months with Eckert, Mr. Hyde, and Kayler, Rebo couldn't shake the nagging question that haunted him: Why did these intelligent, capable men—each with vast knowledge and impressive skills—choose to live as con artists, thieves, and killers?
It didn't make sense to Rebo. He couldn't help but wonder if this would be his fate as well.
Rebo had even considered escaping again. As Kayler had pointed out, his training had made him capable of slipping past most people unnoticed. But Kayler was not "most people." The more time Rebo spent with him, the more he realized just how formidable Kayler truly was.
Mr. Hyde once said, "In a one-on-one fight, no matter the opponent, Kayler will always emerge victorious." This statement was burned into Rebo's memory, and it seemed everyone in the household believed it. Escaping from Kayler was out of the question. Yet, the alternative—becoming a key player in a grand scheme of deception—left Rebo deeply unsettled.
Though not a particularly devout believer, Rebo trusted in a divine force that protected the righteous, bringing comfort to the just and meting out justice to the wicked. His life before all this had been simple and straightforward, working diligently in a shop. Despite the cruel treatment from the hunchbacked second manager, Rebo had always looked forward to completing his apprenticeship.
He had imagined learning the intricacies of accounting, mastering the balance sheets, and eventually rising in rank within the shop. With time, perhaps a decade or so, he could become a manager or even a buyer, traveling to nearby Westbay or Irei ports to procure goods. This would not only fulfill his ambitions but also secure a comfortable living.
That was his original plan for the future. But now, he was Rebo Baindit, an heir to an unknown noble lineage and a pawn in an elaborate scam. What would his fate be? Would he spend his days languishing in prison, or would he meet his end at the gallows? These thoughts filled Rebo with dread, and all he could do was pray—seeking divine mercy and deliverance from the path that lay before him.
The news of Eckert's return brought Rebo no comfort. Kayler had warned him that Eckert's return would mark the beginning of his trials. In truth, Rebo wasn't ready to become an accomplice in a con of such magnitude.
Halfway through breakfast, Eckert suddenly walked in. Most of the household seemed genuinely pleased to see him, and Rebo, following suit, forced himself to join in the expressions of joy. Soon, Rebo discovered why Eckert was so well-liked.
Eckert had brought gifts for everyone.
The butler received a finely crafted silk hat with a black band, something he had long desired to complete his formal attire. He already had a good pair of trousers and a pair of leather shoes that Mr. Hyde had given him for his birthday, and the hat completed the outfit perfectly.
The housekeeper received a silk scarf, the kind noble ladies often wore, though the color was slightly off. Rebo estimated it was still quite expensive.
Mr. Hyde's gift was a walking cane carved from walnut wood. Though it wasn't worth much, the craftsmanship was exquisite. The little lamb's head carved into the handle and the ring of maple leaves around the middle were lifelike. Beyond these simple details, there were no other decorations—no varnish, no gold leaf—just an ordinary cane for an elderly gentleman.
Mr. Hyde seemed quite pleased with the cane's subtle, intricate design. For a man who had seen so many rare and valuable treasures, it was an interesting gift.
"Where did you find this?" Mr. Hyde asked.
"I bought it from a shepherd in Peyton for five coppers," Eckert replied.
"A fine piece of work. I haven't seen such skilled carving in years. It's a shame that shepherd is in Peyton. If he were in the capital, Sersburg, or Southport, he'd be rich by now," Mr. Hyde mused.
"If he were in those places, he might not have carved such a fine cane. A shoddy piece of work can be varnished and gilded and still be a respectable cane in anyone's hand. Who would bother to notice the quality of the carving?" Eckert remarked.
"True, true. You've grown quite wise," Mr. Hyde said with a nod and a smile.
Aside from Mr. Hyde's gift, which was a simple handmade item, everyone else received something they had longed for but couldn't afford.
Rebo's gift was a model of a Westbay galleon, the kind he often saw in Southport. The hull was carved from a single block of pine, with the deck, gunwales, portholes, stern galleries, railings, and rudder all intricately detailed. The sails were made of white silk, and the ropes and rigging appeared to be cotton threads dipped in gold paint.
The entire ship was painted in vibrant colors, gleaming beautifully. Rebo had seen a similar model in Southport—a piece he had admired for a whole summer. Although he had loved it, the price was so high that he didn't dare dream of owning it.
Every day, until the model was sold, Rebo had gone to admire it. He had never imagined Eckert would give him such a valuable gift. Overcome with excitement, Rebo forgot to express his thanks.
"I knew you liked ships, and when I saw this model in a shop, I thought of you. I never expected to find such a fine model in a poor place like Peyton," Eckert said.
Rebo suddenly realized how rude he had been. If this had happened during a lesson, such a mistake would have only one outcome—a sharp lash on the buttocks and an evening of recounting his mistakes and deciding on his punishment. If he underestimated the punishment, it would be doubled; if he overestimated, Eckert would not kindly correct him. Remembering this, Rebo quickly stammered out his thanks.
"Eckert, how did Rebo do while I was away?" Eckert seemed unconcerned with the earlier blunder and turned to ask Mr. Hyde about Rebo's progress.
"Quite well. For someone of his age in Florans, his Westbay language skills are more than sufficient," Mr. Hyde replied.