The next morning, Ivan and Charlie shared a simple breakfast in the hotel dining room. The clatter of plates and the soft hum of conversation around them created a calm backdrop, a rare reprieve in Ivan's increasingly complicated life.
With no pressing matters on his agenda for the day, Ivan decided to take a walk around the city, using the time to clear his mind and gather his thoughts. Unlike the cautious persona he adopted during his dealings with the police, today he would venture out as "Ji Bochang," his alias. Charlie, his ever-eager assistant, tagged along.
In theory, Ivan felt safe for now. He had taken care to conceal his identity as a wizard, ensuring he wasn't tangled in the city's underworld of magic. Moreover, he had no direct conflicts with the Robbins or Metallia families; yet. He doubted they'd waste time targeting him without cause.
---
The streets of Taylor Street unfolded before them, a vibrant artery in the heart of the city. The air carried the crispness of early autumn, and fallen yellow leaves lined the sidewalks like nature's own decor. They crunched softly underfoot as Ivan walked past bustling crowds and humming automobiles. The sleek stone buildings towered over him, a striking contrast to the modest structures of Oakland. Here, everything felt grander, as though the city itself sought to remind visitors of its power and sophistication.
The shops along the street catered to a wealthier clientele, with jewelry displays sparkling in the windows and mannequins dressed in the latest high-end fashions. Restaurants advertised delicacies Ivan couldn't pronounce, let alone recognize.
"Since the diamond mines in the southern continent were discovered, diamonds have become the rage," Charlie said, gesturing to a glittering jewelry store. "Young couples love buying diamond rings for their weddings these days. It's the trend."
Ivan glanced at Charlie with amusement. "You seem to know a lot about this sort of thing."
Charlie puffed up his chest slightly, clearly pleased. "Of course, sir. Don't forget, my main job is being a newspaper boy. Working for you is just a part-time gig. Every newspaper in this city passes through us before it reaches anyone else. You'd be surprised at how much you can learn that way."
"Fair point," Ivan replied, smiling.
Charlie's eyes lit up as he remembered something. "Oh, sir, speaking of newspapers! The Dells Company is offering a prize for a slogan about diamonds. A thousand dollars! Can you imagine? What would you write if you entered?"
Ivan chuckled at the mention of that familiar figure, one thousand dollars. It was becoming a recurring motif in his life. After a moment of thought, he answered with a playful grin, "How about this? 'Diamonds are forever. One will last forever.'"
Charlie stopped mid-step, his jaw dropping slightly. "Sir, that's brilliant! If you ran for that prize, you'd win it, no doubt."
Ivan waved him off with a laugh. "I'll pass. The number 'one thousand' is starting to haunt me, and besides, I'm not about to waste my time chasing slogans."
They continued walking, passing a street band performing a lively tune. The musicians, a ragtag group of young men with mismatched instruments, played with heart. A few passers-by tossed coins into their open case, prompting the band to play a special melody in gratitude. The scene was vibrant, almost idyllic.
Ivan exhaled slowly, taking it all in. "Peaceful and harmonious," he murmured, almost to himself.
---
As they strolled further down the street, Ivan turned to Charlie, his curiosity piqued. "You know, I've been meaning to ask. What's your family like? Why are you working as a newspaper boy? Is everything all right at home?"
The question seemed to catch Charlie off guard. His cheerful demeanor dimmed, and he lowered his gaze to the ground. "My family? Well..." He hesitated, his voice faltering. "It's nothing special, sir. Just a small place, really."
Ivan raised an eyebrow, sensing something hidden behind the boy's vague response. "Come on, Charlie," he pressed gently. "If there's something wrong, I'd like to know. After all, I'm considering investing in your future. Shouldn't I know where you're coming from?"
Charlie fidgeted with his cap, still avoiding eye contact. "It's just that... my house isn't much, sir. It's... um, dirty. And small. And I don't have anything nice to offer a guest."
Ivan stopped walking and placed a reassuring hand on Charlie's shoulder. "You think I care about any of that? Look, I've got nothing else to do today. Why don't you show me where you live?"
Charlie's eyes widened, and he stammered, "But; sir, it's really not a good idea. You'll be uncomfortable—"
"Charlie," Ivan interrupted with a soft but firm tone. "I'm not asking to be entertained. I'm asking to understand. Let me come with you."
Charlie hesitated, chewing on his lip. He finally nodded, though his shoulders were tense. "All right, sir. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Ivan smiled, patting the boy's back lightly. "Lead the way, Charlie. Let's see where this adventure takes us."
"Don't worry," Ivan said with a warm smile. "Do I look like one of those uptight elites from Hall Street?" His tone was light, almost teasing, as he gestured for Charlie to relax. "Besides, I have something important I'd like to discuss with your family."
Charlie tilted his head, curiosity lighting up his young face. "What kind of important thing, sir?"
Ivan's smile deepened as he leaned slightly closer. "I'd like to sponsor your schooling," he said, his voice calm but filled with sincerity. "But naturally, I'd need to speak with your family first. It's only proper to get their permission."
Charlie froze for a moment, stunned. His wide eyes darted to Ivan, searching his face for signs of a joke or condescension, but he found none. After what felt like an eternity, he managed to find his voice. "You... you're serious, sir? You'd really do that for me?"
"Of course," Ivan replied simply. "Why wouldn't I? Everyone deserves a chance to rise higher."
Charlie's lips trembled slightly before he composed himself and straightened up. "Thank you, sir. That's... incredibly generous of you." He hesitated, then added, "But can you give me a moment to talk to my father first? I want to, uh, prepare him. He might not take it well if a stranger just shows up at the door."
Ivan chuckled softly and nodded. "Of course. Take your time. Lead the way when you're ready."
---
The two of them took a carriage to the outskirts of the city. As they moved further away from the bustling urban center, the scenery changed dramatically. The grand buildings and busy streets they had just walked through were replaced by rows of low, dilapidated houses.
Ivan peered out of the carriage window, noticing the haphazard repairs on many of the homes; patches of mismatched wood and corrugated metal that gave them a makeshift, almost desperate appearance. They reminded him of old clothes mended so many times that their original form was lost.
"This area was built a long time ago," Charlie explained, his tone matter-of-fact. "Back when gold mines were first discovered here. These houses are about sixty years old, maybe older."
Ivan nodded, his mind comparing the scene to the urban villages of his previous life. The parallel was striking, though this place had an even rougher edge to it. The smell hit him next; an overwhelming stench of sewage and decay that drifted into the carriage.
The streets here lacked any semblance of urban planning. Sewage ran freely in shallow, broken drains, and narrow pathways crisscrossed chaotically. Clotheslines were strung everywhere, draping the streets with drying garments that swayed in the breeze. It was a stark contrast to the polished elegance of Taylor Street, a reminder of how close prosperity and poverty could exist.
After several twists and turns, the carriage finally stopped in front of a small, gray cement house. The door was a sheet of rusted iron hanging askew, offering little in terms of security or stability. The house looked like it might collapse under the weight of a strong wind.
Ivan stepped out of the carriage, taking in the sight of Charlie's home. He shook his head slightly, marveling at the contrast. 'This is the richest city in the richest province in the world,' he thought grimly. 'And yet, even here, such poverty exists. The bustling urban center from earlier feels like a distant dream.'
"Wait here, sir," Charlie said quickly, his face slightly flushed with embarrassment. "I'll talk to my father first. It won't take long."
Ivan nodded and watched as Charlie darted into the house, the iron door creaking loudly as it swung open. Left alone, Ivan leaned against the carriage, deep in thought.
While offering to sponsor Charlie's education was undoubtedly a generous act, Ivan knew it wasn't entirely selfless. This was an investment, one that could pay off significantly in the future. If Charlie pursued higher education and managed to enter elite circles, Ivan could use those connections to gain access to powerful people and opportunities. It was a practical way to expand his influence without directly entangling himself in the rigid structures of high society.
Still, there was a risk. Charlie was only 13, and asking him to shoulder such expectations might be premature. But Ivan knew that waiting too long would make it harder for the boy to adapt to formal education or forge connections with other students. The timing had to be now.
'If this works,' Ivan mused, 'Charlie could become one of my most valuable assets. But if it fails... well, I'll just have to adjust.'
The creak of the iron door interrupted his thoughts. Charlie stepped out, his face still nervous but more composed. "My father says you can come in now, sir," he said quietly.
Ivan straightened up and smiled. "All right then, Charlie. Let's meet your family." With that, he followed the boy into the modest home, ready to make his pitch.