Newman stood frozen in the shop, staring blankly at the spot where Richard's figure had disappeared into the night. He stood there for what felt like an eternity...
Suddenly, with a sharp slap, Newman smacked his thigh, realizing with a start what he had forgotten to ask: "I should have asked him how to modify the clocks! How could I be so stupid!"
A gleam of excitement sparked in Newman's eyes as he began to calculate in his head. "If I were to buy these clocks from Myron, they'd cost about 5,000 silver coins each. But, if I pointed out the issues—'must wind every two hours,' 'not very accurate'—I could probably negotiate a lower price. And if I can fix them, I could sell them to wealthy nobles for 8,000 or even 9,000 silver coins. That's nearly double the profit!"
Newman's thoughts raced as he clenched his fist, imagining the potential. "If everything goes well, I could surpass the profits I made over the past ten years of running the store in just a year. And then..."
He involuntarily squeezed his fist tighter.
On the other side of town, Richard and his maid Lucy walked through the streets of Cape Heimya, now bathed in the glow of the evening sky.
Though Lucy had eaten some of the dried fruits and snacks provided by Newman in the jewelry shop, she was still hungry. She looked up at Richard, pouting. "Master, I'm still hungry. Can we eat something?"
"What would you like to eat? Bread or pie?" Richard asked bluntly.
"Huh?" Lucy blinked in surprise, then stuck out her lower lip, clearly displeased. "Master, you're so stingy! You've just received fifty gold coins, and you still want me to eat bread or pie?"
"What do you want to eat, then?"
"I want meat! Meat!" Lucy exclaimed loudly.
"Hmm…" Richard thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, you can have a meat-filled pie."
"I…" Lucy stared at him, speechless, then huffed, crossing her arms. "Master, you're too much!"
"Stop whining," Richard said, swiftly placing a hand on Lucy's head before she could continue her protest. "Though we now have fifty gold coins, I still need to be cautious. We can't waste it all."
"But I want meat," Lucy said, her voice tinged with frustration.
"Wait a little longer. In three days, you'll eat your fill."
"Three days?"
"Yes, three days."
Three days later...
Truth be told, these past three days had not been easy for Newman.
Just after Richard left, he had realized what he should have discussed with him. As a businessman, he understood the immense profit potential of the clock modification method Richard held. He longed to get the full details from Richard right away.
But Richard had insisted they wait three days.
Within just a day, Newman could hardly contain his impatience and began to use his connections to locate Richard's whereabouts.
As the owner of a jewelry shop, Newman had enough influence to make things happen. A few orders were quickly issued, and soon, information came back to him—Richard was staying at the Black Thorn Inn.
Newman immediately rushed over, only to be told by the innkeeper that Richard had paid a deposit but never returned after that.
For the next three days, Richard seemed to vanish into thin air, completely disappearing from the sight of the people of Cape Heimya.
Newman tried every method he could think of but couldn't find Richard. Anxiety gnawed at him, and soon his throat became sore, unable to even eat solid food—he was surviving on only porridge.
The fear of Richard leaving with the clock modification technique—an opportunity for enormous profits—had Newman on the verge of despair. He couldn't shake the thought of missing such a fortune for the rest of his life.
For three days, Newman's mind was in turmoil, constantly wondering: What if I had thought of this sooner? If I had stopped Richard before he left and discussed everything, I wouldn't be wasting away in worry. At that moment, I wouldn't have hesitated to offer him 50 gold coins—or even 500, 5,000 gold coins! Anything to secure the method! It would have been better than this endless wait, feeling like the days were dragging on forever.
Finally, on the evening of the third day, when Newman was on the verge of giving up, Richard appeared.
As soon as Richard stepped into the jewelry shop, Newman leapt out from behind the counter, waving his hand to signal the attendants to close the doors. He quickly rushed toward Richard, practically tripping over his own feet in his excitement.
Without a moment's hesitation, Newman grabbed Richard's hand, practically trembling with urgency. "I know what I want to discuss with you! Tell me how you modified the clocks! Hurry, just tell me! I'll pay whatever you want!"
"You're sure about this?" Richard asked, studying Newman's eager expression, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Of course, I'm sure!" Newman nodded vigorously, practically pleading.
"Well, if you're sure..." Richard replied with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Then I'll need the entire jewelry shop."
"Deal," Newman responded without even thinking. He was fully aware that his entire jewelry shop was worth only a few tens of thousands of silver coins, but the potential of the clock modification was worth far more—at least hundreds of thousands in profit. It was more than worth the trade.
"You're decisive," Richard observed, smiling. He was impressed. Most people would have hesitated or balked at the offer, but Newman had agreed instantly. It was clear that being the owner of a jewelry shop wasn't something anyone could achieve without being sharp.
"You're agreeing, then?" Richard asked, not saying anything else.
Newman nodded, his voice trembling with anticipation. "Yes, I agree! Tell me, what do I need to do?"
Richard raised a hand, motioning for Newman to calm down. "Hold on, you don't need to rush and give me the shop just yet."
"Why?" Newman asked, confused.
"Because," Richard said, eyes glinting, "if you hand over the shop now, you might later realize you don't have enough leverage to get something even better from me."
"Something better?" Newman asked, puzzled. "What could be better than that?"
"This," Richard said, pulling out a flat object from his coat and placing it on the table.
Newman stared at the object in confusion. It was small enough to fit in one hand, with a brass casing and a smooth crystal embedded on top. Beneath the crystal was a much smaller dial, resembling a clock but much smaller. To Newman's astonishment, there were three hands on the dial, and they were moving.
Click, click, click...
Newman staggered backward in shock, nearly collapsing. His eyes widened, and he stared at Richard like he was seeing an entirely new creature. He pointed to the object on the counter, his voice shaking as he struggled to find the right words. "Th-This... What is this?"
"As you can see," Richard replied casually, "it's a clock."
"A clock?" Newman repeated, his mind racing. "But it's so small... and… so much more refined than the other clocks."
Richard nodded with a slight smile. "Yes, it's a much smaller, more detailed version. It's called a pocket watch."
"A pocket watch?" Newman muttered the unfamiliar term, his face shifting through a range of emotions. Finally, he controlled his excitement and looked at Richard. "Did you make this?"