14. A Trading Fair

Anthony Fain sat dejectedly across from Siles.

His companions cast worried glances his way, but Anthony waved them off, and the group of kids relaxed, turning back to their playful chatter.

Anthony remained silent.

Siles said, “Mrs. Fain said you’ve been mixing with underground gang members.”

Anthony’s ears turned red. After a moment, he said, “They’re not. I… know someone who can introduce us, but we haven’t been able to join yet.”

Siles nodded, understanding.

These naive kids probably thought gang members were cool and wanted to join. But at their age, they were mostly mischievous, unable to prove their worth or achieve their ambitions.

“Your mother is very worried about you.”

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Gdvbsdu qlzz pkzldv. Gqvla y xsxldv, bkp lmralppksd vokpvle yp bl pyke, “Mblu esd’v lhld jdso obyv R oydv!”

“Ebyv es usw oydv?” Fkzlp nswdvlale.

Gdvbsdu nbsjle wr.

Fkzlp nsdvkdwle, “Zsw oydv vs tlv kdhszhle kd uswa qyvbla’p cwpkdlpp?”

Gdvbsdu vbswtbv, vbld dseele.

Fkzlp pyke, “Ps usw jdso yeekvksd, pwcvaynvksd, xwzvkrzknyvksd, yde ekhkpksd okvbkd sdl bwdeale?”

Gdvbsdu’p xswvb pzsozu easrrle srld.

Fkzlp pktble qykdvzu. “Qs vs pnbssz, Gdvbsdu. Nlyad pjkzzp, tykd jdsozletl, yde vbld uswa ryaldvp okzz qllz nsdqkeldv zlvvkdt usw hldvwal swv.”

Anthony stared at Siles, as if some belief had been shaken. After a moment, he asked, “Does doing business require knowing addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division within one hundred?”

“Maybe within ten thousand,” Siles said reservedly. “After all, I don’t know how big your father’s business is.”

And this world had no calculators.

Anthony’s expression looked like the sky was falling.

He suddenly said indignantly, “Then I’d rather…”

“Can you fight?” Siles interrupted, eyeing Anthony’s expression before asking slowly, “Dare to kill?”

Anthony trembled almost instantly.

Siles shook his head. “Deep down, you know this. You just don’t want to bow to your parents. But if you keep wandering with your friends like this, you won’t even afford tomorrow’s meal.”

Initially, Anthony likely had some pocket money when he ran away. But reckless youths didn’t realize it wouldn’t last.

By now, they couldn’t even afford a proper meal.

A dull look crept into Anthony’s eyes. He muttered, “Then I can find a job.”

“Hm, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division within one hundred.”

Anthony: “…”

He slapped the table in frustration, stood abruptly, went to his friends, said a few words, and returned to Siles.

Neck stiff, he said, “I’ll go back with you.”

Siles, noting his change in attitude, was slightly puzzled—he hadn’t expected a few words to convince Anthony, given Mrs. Fain’s portrayal of him as a major troublemaker.

But Siles didn’t say more, only asking, “What about your friends?”

“They’ll go back to their homes,” Anthony said, avoiding talk of “wandering” or details of his life outside, seemingly reluctant to share with Siles.

Siles wasn’t overly curious. He greeted Eric and left Ernestine with Anthony.

From start to finish, he saw neither the tavern’s owner nor rumored gang members or anyone involved in fencing goods from the Endless Lands. Perhaps it was too early, or the merchants hadn’t returned from the Endless Lands.

Regardless, Siles felt relieved.

He had no combat ability; if something happened, he’d be at fate’s mercy—relying on [Flowing Wind], his only ritual? He didn’t even have a potion.

As for the Secret Keeper’s power, Siles knew nothing and dared not act rashly.

Leaving Ernestine, Siles glanced at the sullen boy beside him and asked, “How did you learn about Ernestine?”

“I snuck a look at my dad’s letter,” Anthony admitted after hesitating. “It mentioned a trading fair at Ernestine in early August. I was curious.”

A trading fair? Likely the fencing channel Siles had heard about.

He noted this mentally, thinking he might get more details from Eric Kolens.

Anthony added, “I planned to stay out until August before going back!”

Siles thought, by then, Mrs. Fain would be frantic.

Suddenly realizing something, he asked, “You don’t have much money left, do you? How were you confident you could stay out so long?”

“I was…” Anthony began unthinkingly, then stopped, clamping his mouth shut.

Siles narrowed his eyes. “Related to the gang contact you mentioned?” He studied the boy. “Were you planning to work for the gang? What could a kid your age do for them?”

He paused, then mused.

Then he said, “Gather information?”

People typically weren’t wary of kids like Anthony.

Anthony’s eyes widened, stammering, unsure what to say.

Siles confirmed his guess. A thoughtful look crossed his eyes—what information? At this time, late July…

No, wait, the question was, if Anthony had a way to survive out there, why did he agree to return with Siles?

Siles suddenly understood, saying firmly, “Your father’s gains in the Endless Lands… or perhaps information about the Endless Lands?”

That was information Anthony could only get by returning home.

After Siles appeared, Anthony might have hesitated about returning or showing submission to his parents. But with Siles’s arrival, he decided to go along.

No wonder. Siles felt Anthony’s compliance came too quickly.

“…How do you guess so much!” Anthony looked on the verge of collapse, staring at the black-haired, black-eyed, seemingly calm and harmless young man.

From a few words, instinctive reactions, and actions, he deduced so much?!

Young Anthony found it unbelievable.

Siles only gave a faint smile.

From last night’s overheard conversation at the map shop to his knowledge of the Endless Lands, Siles could see that the Konst Duchy’s foreign trade heavily relied on merchants traveling to and from the Endless Lands.

In this context, open trade was one thing, but underground smuggling and fencing were rampant.

Yet the Konst Duchy wasn’t satisfied with this. The Grand Duke aimed to develop the Withered Plains with national efforts, establishing more stable economic ties with other nations—the origin of the Withered Plains development plan.

At this juncture, underground gangs in places like the Old City, reliant on smuggling, needed up-to-date information: How far had the development plan progressed? What was the current state of the Endless Lands?

Mr. Fain was a prime information source. Gangs might not reach him directly, but his son had come to them.

It all made sense.

What specific business they conducted, what they smuggled, what goods they fenced, what profits they sought, how the Withered Plains development would proceed—these were unknowns to Siles.

From Anthony’s reactions, he concluded: the Old City, no, all of Lamifa City, seemed to be in some turmoil.

Though July’s rainy season was ending, a true storm seemed to be brewing.

Siles sighed almost imperceptibly.

They returned to 13 Milford Street in silence. Siles had little to say, while Anthony was rattled by Siles’s sharpness and worried about failing his task.

As Siles guessed, the gang contact had assigned Anthony a task: gather information about the Endless Lands from his merchant father.

Depending on the information’s value, he might earn a chance to join the gang or some money.

So, when Siles arrived at Ernestine, Anthony seemed reluctant but ultimately followed without much resistance.

Because he wanted to complete that task.

Soon, they reached 13 Milford Street. Several carriages were parked at the entrance, including a notably advanced mechanical-structure automobile.

Siles observed for a moment, glancing thoughtfully at Anthony.

Anthony, uncomfortable under his gaze, asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Siles said, “When you accepted the gang’s task to get information from your father…” He said meaningfully, “Did you consider that the information you leak might harm his business?”

Anthony Fain froze.

After a moment, he said stiffly, “I wouldn’t do that!”

He flung out the words, pushed past Siles forcefully, and headed to the door.

Before he touched the handle, the door swung open. A travel-worn middle-aged man stepped out. Anthony froze, stammering fearfully, “F-Father…”

But his usually stern, strict father said nothing, only glanced at him, then turned to Siles. “Mr. Noel, first time meeting. I’m Bertram Fain. Thank you for handling my son’s matter.”

Siles shook his head. “It’s nothing. Call me Siles.”

They entered the apartment. Seeing Anthony, Mrs. Fain let out a sob, rushed to embrace her little Anthony, her worried expression softened by tears.

Anthony looked uncomfortable but let his mother hold him.

Siles followed Bertram Fain to the first-floor parlor. Siles briefly recounted his morning’s experience, and Mr. Fain, relieved, thanked him repeatedly.

“I received my wife’s letter, so I hurried back. Thanks to you, or I’d worry my wife might do something drastic,” Mr. Fain said, a fleeting bitter smile crossing his stern face.

Siles wisely stayed silent, avoiding comment on Mr. Fain’s family affairs.

“As for the underground gangs…” Bertram Fain gave a bitter smile. “Lately, things related to the Endless Lands have been…”

He shook his head.

Siles thought, then asked, “What exactly happened?”