XXXVII
I sat across from Black, eyeing the chessboard he'd arranged with meticulous precision. Something about his setup seemed almost too perfect, so I reached out and swapped the King and Queen's positions, nudging them just slightly.
Black's frown was immediate. He raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with annoyance. "You know the Queen and King should be facing each other, right?"
I shrugged, casually returning the pieces to their original places. "Just testing your attention to detail."
He gave me a flat look but nodded for me to start. I moved my pawn from E7 to E5, and he responded instantly, moving with the confidence of someone who already knew how this game would end.
A few moves in, Dummy, who had been leaning against the wall watching us, snickered. "Wow… you suck."
I rolled my eyes but didn't respond, focusing on the board. Black, meanwhile, pressed forward with his signature precision, each move forcing me into a tighter and more uncomfortable position. His focus was unnerving—like he wasn't just playing chess but dissecting my thought process at the same time.
Before long, my King was boxed in, and I was out of options.
"Checkmate," Black announced, leaning back with an expression that managed to be both smug and detached.
I laughed, raising my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, you got me."
Dummy peered at the board and scoffed. "Seriously, dude, that was rough. I didn't think anyone could lose that fast."
I shot him a look. "Like you should be talking. You didn't even last as long as I did!"
Dummy grinned, completely unfazed. "Hey, at least I put up a fight and used my special ability. You? You just let him walk all over you."
I felt my eyebrow twitch but managed a smirk. He wasn't entirely wrong, though. As I glanced at Black, something about his playstyle caught my attention. Every move had been made with an exact five-second pause, like he was calculating every possible response before committing. Another trick of his aura ability, perhaps?
Not that it mattered. Winning had never been my goal.
"Man, sore loser much?" Dummy teased, folding his arms with an exaggerated pout.
I rolled my eyes and gave a half-smile. "Alright, alright. You got me."
Just then, a scruffy-looking man approached our table. He wore a mix of pirate and marine attire—patched leather boots, a well-worn naval hat, and a thick brown beard that gave him a rugged charm. His piercing eyes scanned the chessboard before he dragged over a chair and sat down uninvited.
"I've been watching you all play," he said in a gravelly voice. "Mind if I have a go?"
I smirked, standing up and gesturing to my seat. "All yours."
As he settled in, he introduced himself. "Name's Joe."
Black gave a curt nod. "Black."
Joe studied the board, a glint of mischief sparking in his eye. "How 'bout we make it more interesting? A little wager?"
Black's interest was piqued. "What do you have in mind?"
Joe reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver ring. It looked simple, but I recognized it immediately—a semi-finished Maker product, just like the ones we'd earned back in the fifth stage.
"This ring," Joe said, holding it up, "for whatever reward you got from the fifth stage."
Black's smile widened. "You're on."
They began setting up the pieces, and I stepped back, intrigued to see how this match would play out.
As they finished, I took out my coin and raised an eyebrow at Joe. "Head or bird?"
Joe's eyes gleamed with confidence. "Bird."
I flipped the coin, catching it on the back of my hand. It was bird.
"Looks like you're playing white," I said with a smirk, stepping back to sip my coffee.
"I'll play white," Joe confirmed, leaning forward.
The game began, and the café seemed to quiet as their pieces clashed in a meticulous, calculated dance. Joe's face was calm but focused, each move deliberate. His Maker-type aura pulsed subtly, giving him an edge in adapting his strategy. Black's expression, on the other hand, was a mask of intensity, his "demons" clearly fueling his gameplay.
Their abilities clashed in an invisible duel as they strategized and recalculated at a furious pace. The board shifted constantly, neither willing to give an inch.
I finished my coffee, watching the game stretch on longer than I expected. The tension between them was palpable, the stakes more than just the ring or the reward—it was a battle of pride.
Finally, after what felt like hours, Joe leaned forward and moved his queen into position. Black's eyes flicked over the board, searching for a way out, but there was none.
"Checkmate," Joe said, leaning back with a satisfied grin.
Black sat still for a moment before letting out a low chuckle. "That was a fun one, Joe. Haven't had a match like that in a while."
Joe leaned back in his chair, his gaze flicking between Dummy and me. "You two want a go?" he asked, his tone light but inviting.
Dummy shook his head quickly with a sheepish grin on his face as he glanced at Black. "Nah, I know better after losing to him," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his head.
But I wasn't Dummy.
Black stood from his seat, walking to the counter to order coffee, leaving the chair open. I rolled my shoulders and slid into his place, flashing Joe a confident smile. "Alright, let's see what you've got."
Joe's grin widened as he reached into his pocket and placed both semi-finished Maker products on the table. His confidence radiated as he leaned back, arms crossed. "Alright, kid. What do you have to offer?"
I couldn't help but match his boldness. "Oh, you're sure you want to wager those?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because if we're playing, you'd need to throw in your ship too."
The room seemed to pause. Black and Dummy exchanged confused glances, but Joe let out a hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Well, I'll be damned. Not many people recognize me that easily. Clever catch, kid."
It was frankly and painfully obvious who Joe was… He was wearing a patchwork of pirate-like or marine-like clothes. I sighed at the thought…
Turning to Black and Dummy, I gave a mock bow, introducing our new friend with a touch of flair. "This here's Joe the Sky Ruler, owner of the airship we now reside and a high-ranking member of the Hunter Association."
Joe nodded, the grin still lingering on his face. "Much as I'd love to gamble it, I can't put the airship on the line—it's worth a bit more than my left hand."
"Fair enough," I replied smoothly. "Then let's settle on something else. How about three favors, those two semi-finished Maker products," I pointed to the items on the table, "and one more thing—a custom piece of gear, made by you personally."
His eyes lit up with interest. Joe was a renowned Maker, his crafted gear legendary. My terms were ambitious—borderline outrageous—but that only seemed to stoke his curiosity.
"Bold demands," he said, amusement glinting in his gaze. "So, what are you putting on the table? Honestly, I don't think I'd want anything from you…"
I let out a cryptic smile across my lips, keeping him guessing. A little mystique went a long way in this line of work. After a moment, I revealed my wager: "Information on the legendary weapon—Excalibur."
Joe's eyes widened, disbelief plain on his face as he stared at me. "Impossible," he murmured, leaning forward as if trying to read the truth in my expression.
Black turned sharply toward me, his frown deepening, though he held back any objections. Dummy, meanwhile, blinked in utter confusion.
"What's this all about?" Dummy finally asked, scratching his head.
Black answered before I could, his tone low and serious. "Excalibur. A powerful Maker artifact. Rumored to be crafted by an ancient Maker—a weapon that raised a king from the ruins of the Dark Ages." He shook his head slowly. "I always thought it was just a legend."
Joe crossed his arms, his grin fading into a cautious smirk. "If that's true, maybe I should back out of this wager," he said, though the challenge in his voice hadn't disappeared. "No way to verify if you're telling the truth. And even if it is Excalibur, my airship wouldn't be worth a tenth of its value."
I inclined my head, acknowledging his point. "Fair observations," I admitted. "If I had the means, I'd have claimed it for myself by now. But trust me, it wouldn't matter—it's fabled to choose its own master."
Black nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowing as he studied me. "Excalibur's no ordinary weapon. Even the stories say it's… selective."
For a moment, the table fell silent, each of us lost in thought about the legendary relic. The weight of its name hung heavy in the air.
I broke the quiet, my tone calm but firm. "So, do you still want to play a game with me? What's it going to be, Joe?"
Joe leaned forward, his expression a mix of intrigue and excitement. "Alright, kid," he said, his voice steady. "Let's play."
I leaned forward, keeping my tone casual but persuasive. "Joe, let's be honest—the chance to even catch a glimpse of something like Excalibur? That alone should make this gamble worth it, right? But for the sake of fairness, I'll ask one more time: Do you wish to play?"
After a pause, he murmured, "That… is indeed the case, but I think I can handle you just fine."
Black vacated his seat, giving me a brief glance as he stepped aside. I slid into the chair, my hand accidentally brushing against the board. A few pieces toppled over, clattering softly onto the surface.
I offered a sheepish smile. "Oops, my bad."
Carefully, I propped each piece back up, taking my time as my fingers grazed every single one. With each touch, I planted my aura on the pieces, the subtle pulse of my ability invisible to the untrained eye.
Joe's brows drew together slightly as he watched me, his sharp instincts likely catching onto my maneuver. But he didn't say a word, his smirk betraying his amusement. After all, I knew he'd be using every trick in his own arsenal too.
"To keep things fair," I said as I straightened the last piece, "how about we agree on a touch-move rule?"
Joe's smirk widened. "Agreed."
In the world of hunters, chess wasn't just a game of intellect—it was an unspoken battlefield where bending the rules was practically a rule itself. Cheating was a given, a tool wielded as skillfully as any calculated move. Here, manipulation, foresight, and subtlety were as vital as raw strategy.
Joe's intense gaze, coupled with the occasional twitch of his fingers, told me he wasn't here to play fair. And, honestly, neither was I. This wasn't a game of honor; it was a test of who could outmaneuver the other—on the board and beyond it.
I couldn't help but smile. This was as good a practice as any.
With a confident toss, I handed the coin to Dummy, calling, "Man." He flipped it, and sure enough, it landed on "man." I smiled as I claimed white. "I'll take the first move."
The game began with a simple opening: E2 to E4.
Four moves later, Joe's king was in checkmate.
Joe blinked, his disbelief plain as he slowly rose from his seat, visibly unsettled. "What did you just do?" he demanded, staring at the board like it had betrayed him.
I let out a laugh, savoring his reaction. "Now, why would I go and give away my secret?" I said, flashing a sly grin. Leaning forward, I decided to up the stakes. "Tell you what—let's make this interesting. I'll give you a second chance. Lots of second chances. If you win even once, all the favors you owe me are void. But if you lose again, I'll add one more favor to the list."
Joe hesitated, his brow furrowed. "So... I get multiple tries?"
"Exactly." I leaned back, smirking. "What's wrong? Afraid? Never thought a once-fearsome pirate would back down from a rookie like me."
That did it. His pride wouldn't let him walk away. Gritting his teeth, Joe sat back down. "Fine," he muttered, leaning forward with renewed determination.
The poor bastard fell hook, line, and sinker.
~037