XXXVIII
Aware of Joe's gambling tendency, I decided this was a golden opportunity.
This time, I took black, giving him the opening advantage. But Joe wasn't taking any chances now. His aura flickered faintly as he focused, and I could feel him systematically dispelling the Soul Marks I'd left on the pieces. Before we began, he pulled out a small vial, swallowing its contents, and slipped two rings onto his fingers. Whatever they did, he was ready to use everything he had.
Joe made his first move.
I turned to Dummy and asked, "Dummy, if you let me borrow your aura for the rest of the match, I'll give you one of the semi-finished Maker products I won."
Dummy's eyes lit up at the offer. He deliberated for a moment before nodding. "Deal," he said eagerly.
As I handed him the ring, I brushed my hand against his, connecting to his aura. What I picked up surprised me—an attribute literally called Retardation, designed to distort cognition and subtly slow brain activity. Not bad at all.
Rather than Retardation, it could also be called Weakness attribute if I was to interpret it in a more general manner like how I viewed thematic powers.
I wove the attribute into my own aura, sending out a faint wave toward Joe. He seemed oblivious to the effect creeping over him, but as the game progressed, his focus faltered. Small missteps began to accumulate, and a few rounds later, he was in checkmate again.
Joe stared at the board in frustration, his fists clenched. I leaned back, smirking. "That's four favors now, Joe."
His face flushed as he tried to compose himself, his pride clearly bruised.
The games pressed on, but Joe had the spirit of a gambler who didn't know when to quit. Each loss only fueled his determination, as if the next game would finally be his redemption. By his sixth loss, he'd figured out how to block the Retardation effect, setting up a defense that neutralized it. But by then, he was already neck-deep in owed favors.
Not one to lose my edge, I pivoted to a new strategy. Combining my puppetry attribute with my connection ability, I subtly nudged his pieces just enough to throw off his moves. The shifts were so minor they went unnoticed, but they were fatal for his positioning.
Joe, too focused on countering Retardation, didn't notice my new tactic. His confusion grew as his pieces inexplicably landed in the worst possible spots.
Several brutal losses later, Joe finally snapped to reality. Realizing he was only digging himself deeper, he groaned, cursed under his breath, and shoved back his chair. "Damn it all," he muttered, standing up in defeat.
He shot one last glare at the board, then at me. "You're something else, kid," he said, shaking his head. "But don't think I'm letting this go. I'll be back."
I watched Joe storm off, a smirk tugging at my lips. Eleven favors safely in my pocket—more than I'd anticipated from a single night.
Stretching, I stifled a yawn. The airship was quiet now, the hum of its engines blending with the faint creaks of the hull as it glided through the night sky. Most passengers and staff had already retired, leaving the once-bustling corridors eerily calm.
Black remained seated at the chess table, his sharp eyes fixed on me.
"I get how you won the later matches," he said, his voice low but tinged with curiosity. "But that first one? I don't see it. Four moves? Joe's no beginner."
I smirked and shrugged. "A mystery for another time," I replied, deliberately vague. Rising from my seat, I left him to stew over it, my steps light as I headed toward my quarters.
As I walked down the empty corridor, a thrill ran through me. The hidden mechanism behind that first victory played over in my mind. The truth? Aura sabotage.
That first match had been one-sided because, with a subtle touch, I'd altered Joe's aura just enough to steer him off course. It wasn't blatant control—just a gentle nudge, a subconscious whisper that made him miscalculate. The secret lay in a thin connection I could maintain by borrowing someone's aura and returning it. Through that thread, I could influence them, not enough to dominate, but enough to disrupt their rhythm.
The beauty of it was its near invisibility. Affecting someone's aura at such a subtle level was almost impossible to detect. It was like leaving a fingerprint in their subconscious, one they'd never realize was there. With practice, I'd learned to make their aura slip out of sync, or even go berserk if I wanted to push things further. But tonight, all I'd needed was a little nudge.
Just as I neared my quarters, someone bumped into me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
I stepped back, startled, only to see Geoffrey standing before me. His scruffy hair looked even messier than usual, and he was dressed like he'd just stepped off a beach: a neon, floral-patterned Hawaiian shirt and worn beach shorts that looked out of place against the airship's polished corridors.
"Geoffrey," I said flatly, my irritation already bubbling.
He grinned, leaning in like he had some grand secret to share. "Heard you're a betting man, eh?" he said, his tone playful. "How about a little game with yours truly?"
I sighed, glancing past him. "Not interested. Move aside."
But Geoffrey shifted, blocking my path with a casual stretch. "Aw, come on. Just hear me out!"
I narrowed my eyes, suppressing the urge to shove him out of the way. "Geoffrey, I'm giving you one last chance to move," I said, my tone cold. "Or you will be moved."
He held up his hands in mock surrender, his grin unwavering. "Easy, easy! Just listen for a second," he pleaded, taking a step back with a chuckle. "You won't regret it."
I glared at him, irritation simmering as I took in his obnoxious outfit and his ever-present grin. Geoffrey had always struck me as the kind of guy who played the fool to hide whatever schemes were brewing in his head. I didn't trust him, and I certainly didn't like him.
Still, he insisted on blocking my path. Fine. I'd hear him out. But if this turned out to be some ridiculous joke, he'd regret it. The airship didn't have any no-kill rules, after all.
"What do you want?"
Geoffrey winced, his grin faltering slightly as he read my expression. "Ooof, so much killing intent... chill down, man," he said, chuckling nervously. His grin didn't waver, but I caught the subtle shift in his stance—he was on guard, just in case.
I crossed my arms, narrowing my eyes. "What kind of bet are you proposing, then?"
"Simple," he said, straightening up with a casual shrug. "We take guesses on the theme for the next test. The closer you are, the more points you get for accuracy."
I frowned, keeping my reaction neutral. This wasn't just some ridiculous whim—Geoffrey had to know something. Something important. Something I didn't. As annoying as he was, I couldn't ignore the possibility that he had an edge here.
I studied him carefully, noting the gleam in his eyes as he leaned in slightly, sensing I was at least intrigued.
"What's the wager?" I asked, keeping my tone cool.
"Information for information," he replied smoothly, like he'd rehearsed this moment a hundred times.
My interest cooled instantly. "Not interested."
Geoffrey chuckled, unbothered by my dismissal. "Oh, but I think you will be," he said, his voice low and teasing. He leaned in a little closer, his grin widening as he dropped the bait. "It's about the Elsewhere Cult."
My expression hardened. That name alone was enough to make me pause. I weighed my words carefully. "What information are you looking for in exchange? And if this is really about the Elsewhere Cult, why don't we just trade?"
Geoffrey leaned back, his grin sly and infuriatingly smug. "Because, my friend, the information is worth a lot more if I hold on to it. Besides," he added with a casual shrug, "I wouldn't mind selling it to you later… after you lose."
His arrogance grated on me, but I couldn't deny that he'd baited my curiosity well enough. He knew I wouldn't walk away easily now.
I raised an eyebrow, cutting straight to the point. "So, why not just let me pay you double the information? I'd owe you a favor, too."
Geoffrey shook his head, his grin widening. "While the offer is… tempting," he said, his tone dripping with mock consideration, "I'm doing this for the thrill of it. It's just more fun to bet."
"Fine," I said, suppressing a sigh. "What do you want?"
His eyes gleamed with a sudden intensity that caught me off guard. "The location of Excalibur."
For a moment, I just stared at him, the sheer audacity of his demand rendering me speechless. Then, I burst into laughter. It wasn't polite laughter, either—it was the kind that shook my shoulders and made my sides ache.
Geoffrey stood there, watching in silence, his expression calm and unreadable.
That was when it hit me—he was dead serious.
I forced myself to calm down, though disbelief was still all over my face. "You really think I'd give up something like that?" I asked, looking him up and down as if to confirm that he wasn't just playing some elaborate joke.
But Geoffrey's grin didn't falter. If anything, it seemed to grow more confident, as though my reaction had only confirmed something he'd suspected all along.
I gave him a hard look, searching for any crack in his resolve, but he held firm. "Fine," I said, my voice sharp with resolve. "I'll humor you and play your game. But we're doing this right—the judge will be the airship captain."
Geoffrey shook his head, his smirk pulling at his lips like he'd been waiting for this. "Oh, I don't think so. I don't trust the captain," he replied smoothly. "I happen to know he owes you a few favors."
He let that sit between us for a moment, his confidence radiating off him.
"Let's have it locked up," he continued. "We'll put our guesses in a metal box, and it'll be handed to a third party—someone neither of us have any ties to. We'll open it after the exam, fair and square."
I narrowed my eyes, mulling over his suggestion. He'd anticipated every loophole I might've tried to exploit, boxing me into his terms. I liked it less with every second, but there was no turning back now. If he had information about the Elsewhere Cult—and if he was willing to bet this much on it—it had to be worth it.
"Deal," I finally agreed, my voice firm.
Geoffrey's hand shot forward, and we shook on it.
Shortly after…
Atropos arrived with her usual stoic demeanor, her steps measured as she approached Geoffrey and me in the airship's quiet observation lounge. She stopped a few paces away, her neutral gaze flicking between us. "I understand I'm to play mediator?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I nodded, keeping my expression calm. "Yes. We need someone trustworthy for the exchange."
Atropos folded her arms, tilting her head slightly as she appraised Geoffrey with her usual cool detachment. "And my compensation?"
Geoffrey sighed dramatically, reaching into his pocket. "Fine, fine. Always business with you, Atropos." He pulled out a jade bracelet, its intricate carvings shimmering faintly with a Maker's subtle glow.
I recognized it immediately. It was one of the semi-finished artifacts from the fifth stage—a valuable piece he'd gone to great lengths to win. The fact that he was parting with it now spoke volumes about how much he wanted this game to proceed.
He handed it over with visible reluctance. "Here," he said, the faintest scowl tugging at his features.
I watched the exchange with amusement. "Seems you have a conscience after all," I remarked with a smirk playing on my lips.
Geoffrey shot me a sharp look, but I just grinned wider, reveling in his irritation.
"Let's get this done," Atropos said, examining the bracelet briefly before tucking it into her pocket. Satisfied, she pulled out a small, unassuming metal box from her satchel.
I scrawled my guess on a slip of paper, folding it tightly before handing it over. Atropos took it without a word, slipping it into the box. The faint click of the lid closing echoed in the quiet room.
"Your turn," she said, her gaze shifting to Geoffrey.
He scribbled his own guess with a calm expression, folding the paper with care before passing it to her. Atropos added it to the box, shut the lid firmly, and locked it with a small, ornate key.
"There," she said, holding the sealed box with an air of authority. "You'll find out who wins once the next exam is over."
Geoffrey leaned back, shooting me a quick, challenging grin. "Looking forward to it."
I met his gaze evenly, my tone laced with quiet confidence. "Let's see if you're as clever as you think."
Atropos, unbothered by the tension between us, pocketed the box with an unreadable expression. "You'll get it back when the time comes," she said simply. "Until then, play nice."
She turned and walked away, leaving Geoffrey and me standing in silence.
"Well," Geoffrey said after a moment, his grin still intact, "I'll let you stew on your chances. Sweet dreams, my friend." He turned on his heel and sauntered off, the picture of infuriating confidence.
I stayed behind, staring at the door he'd exited through. Geoffrey was too smug for his own good, but his confidence wasn't without reason. Whatever information he held about the Elsewhere Cult, it was tied to this bet—and I couldn't afford to lose.
The box was locked, and the wager set. All that remained now was to wait for the next test to unfold.
~038