Chapter 132
Stepping out of the tavern, Ian glanced up at the sky. The countless stars illuminated the dark night.
It was late. Most people would already be asleep by now, but Gawon, a city nicknad “The City of Eternal Lights,” was different.
Shifting his gaze from the alley to the streets, Ian saw a crowd of people still bustling about.
The atmosphere was even livelier than during the day, as rcenaries, having returned from their hunts, were out celebrating.
Wellington Winters was likely still working.
Suddenly, the back door creaked open, and Victor erged. He wore a slightly eccentric coat and carried a black bag.
“Well then, shall we proceed?”
“Hmm…”
“Is sothing the matter?”
“Not really. It’s just unexpected that you’d personally escort instead of sending an employee.”
“For soone special, on a special day, going to a special place, it’s only right to extend such courtesy. This is an exception. I don’t usually step in like this.”
Victor’s cheeky response made Ian chuckle involuntarily.
Though it wasn’t unpleasant to hear, Ian couldn’t shake the thought that this favor wasn’t entirely altruistic. Victor, the manager of Midnight, must have had an ulterior motive.
‘Could he be seeking a connection with Berger?’
That wouldn’t amount to much, though. The family likely already had its own trusted contacts.
Unless Victor could prove superior in information-gathering, such a relationship wouldn’t last long.
Still, Ian decided it wasn’t worth dwelling on for now.
With a bright smile, he replied, “I’m honored.”
He followed Victor, who led the way to the end of the alley.
The streets were lively with drunk patrons laughing as they passed by, and shops stayed brightly lit, welcoming custors even at this late hour.
However, their destination wasn’t in the bustling district. They ventured through a narrow path that beca quieter with every step. Finally, they arrived at an old, worn-looking shop.
There was no visible sign, but the light spilling through the closed door indicated it was still in business.
“This is the place,” Victor said, opening the door.
Inside, the shop was neat and organized, a stark contrast to its exterior.
Various fabrics were displayed on the walls and shelves, but there were many empty spaces.
This indicated a lack of inventory, likely the result of failed trade ventures.
Naturally, there were no custors, leaving the atmosphere silent—almost oppressively so.
As Ian looked further inside, he spotted a middle-aged man seated at a desk.
‘Wellington Winters…?’
The man sported a thick beard and small glasses. He was engrossed in a thick book while absently handling a piece of fabric.
Oblivious to their arrival, he worked intently with scissors in hand, fully imrsed in his task.
“Wellington.”
Victor removed his hat and called out to him.
There was no response. Wellington, wearing a stubborn expression, continued to cut the fabric with unwavering focus.
It was an impressive level of concentration, but knowing his story, Ian could tell it was his way of escaping from painful mories.
Victor walked further inside and called out again.
“Wellington!”
“…Victor?”
Finally, Wellington lifted his head.
“I’ve brought a guest.”
“The rcenary beside you?”
Setting down the scissors, Wellington stepped forward. His tired eyes bore a resemblance to Eor’s.
Wellington’s expression softened as he greeted Ian with a gentle smile.
Just monts earlier, he had seed like a grumpy old man, but now he radiated the warmth of a kind neighbor.
“Well, this is a surprise. Victor personally bringing a guest—this must be soone special.”
He was chatty and straightforward, standing before Ian with a fra that hinted at a past as a rcenary. His imposing build seed more suited to wielding axes and shields than working with textiles.
“Whoever you are, it’s a pleasure to et you. I’m Wellington Winters. I deal in various textiles. I like to think I’ve gathered the finest, though you could likely find similar elsewhere in Gawon. If there’s sothing you need, let know. If I have it, I’ll offer it at a fair price.”
Shaking Wellington’s extended hand, Ian replied, “Pleased to et you. I’m Ian Berger.”
Ian rarely revealed his family na, but this ti was an exception. Upon hearing it, Wellington’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Berger? You’re far more distinguished than I anticipated.”
“Please, speak freely.”
“I couldn’t possibly. One cannot disregard rank and status.”
Wellington spoke with a slight bow, his tone tinged with tension.
“It’s better to converse comfortably for now,” Ian suggested.
“Hmm.”
Looking conflicted, Wellington glanced at Victor.
“Go on, Wellington. The young master prefers it that way.”
“Well, if that’s the case, forgive my earlier formality. I’ll speak freely from now on.”
“Let’s foster a stronger relationship, Wellington,” Victor added with a grin.
“Alright, co this way. It’s a small shop, but there’s a space where we can talk,” Wellington said, leading them to a table cluttered with tools and fabrics.
He swiftly cleared the table by sweeping everything to the side, creating an empty surface in monts.
“Please wait here. I’ll bring so refreshnts.”
Returning shortly, Wellington presented a tray of neatly arranged snacks, accompanied by tea that filled the room with a fragrant aroma.
Sinking into his chair with a weary sigh, Wellington asked, “So, what brings the young master of Berger here?”
“I wish to invest in you,” Ian stated plainly.
“In ?” Wellington sounded surprised. “Well, that’s… wonderful to hear, but surely you’ve heard the rumors about ? I’m a magnet for misfortune.”
“I’m aware. They say you’ve encountered Outer Doors opening during your trade expeditions multiple tis. Even donations to the Pantheon and blessings haven’t worked.”
“Exactly. It’s not as if I carry a cursed relic. It’s simply bad luck. They say once is coincidence, twice is inevitable, and three tis is fate. Investing in would only bring loss. Perhaps you’d be better off finding another trader. I’m hardly worthy of being called a rchant now.”
Wellington sighed heavily, his voice laden with regret.
“There are others in Gawon dealing in textiles. They’d be better choices.”
Ian chuckled, prompting Wellington to frown in discomfort. However, he didn’t ask why Ian was laughing.
eting Wellington’s gaze, Ian spoke slowly, “Don’t you find it regretful to give up like this?”
“What do you an?”
“You didn’t start your trade without purpose. What happened to the passion and dreams you had at the beginning?”
Wellington’s eyes wavered, his expression briefly betraying a deep conflict. Lowering his head, he tapped the armrest of his chair.
“Purpose… passion… dreams… Heh. Yes, I had those once. But you see, reality is rciless. It’s cruel.”
“……”
“I poured everything I had into it. It was a trading expedition that lasted several months. But to see it all collapse twice, no, three tis, right before my eyes—how could I possibly rise again? There was no one to bla. It was truly an act of God. That’s what a jinx is, isn’t it?”
“Hmm.”
“With the little I salvaged, I managed to scrape by. But over the course of three failures, I lost every bit of money I earned from over 20 years of hard work. I’m terrified—terrified of failing again. Even though Victor brought a benefactor to , I have no confidence left. I can’t muster the will to embark on another long trade journey and co back.”
“Then don’t go on trading expeditions anymore.”
“……?”
“Don’t go. Instead, stay here….”
Ian looked down at the table. His eyes fell on the fabrics and scissors lying atop it.
“Why not try tailoring and making clothing? You seem to have the talent for it.”
“And what makes you say that?”
“I can tell. I’m sowhat skilled at reading people.”
“And if I stay here making clothes, who’s going to run the trading company?”
“Of course, you’ll have to delegate. Find others to do it for you. Instruct them on what to buy and where to sell. Yes, it’ll be cumberso, and there will be plenty of work to do. But if you can’t personally take part in trading, then you’ll need to find trustworthy individuals to take on those responsibilities. If I had the ti, I’d join the trade myself to show you that your misfortune can be overco. Unfortunately, I can’t do that.”
“You believe in ?”
Ian nodded with certainty, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“Of course. You didn’t fail because you lacked ability—you failed because of circumstances. As I said, I can tell just by looking. When I first heard the na Wellington Winters, I had a feeling. You can do this.”
Wellington let out a bitter laugh.
“So, you want to throw away your money?”
“No. I fully intend to get back every coin I invest in you. You can do it—here, in Gawon. Stay at your shop, expand it, and grow. Hire people and entrust the trading to them. Surely, you have trustworthy individuals? If they doubt you, use my na. Tell them the third son of Berger has invested in you. Convince them to take one last chance with you.”
“…….”
It was a bold statent, almost flippant, yet it seed to strike a chord within Wellington.
He remained silent, deep in thought, his eyes closed.
“You really think… I can just avoid trading expeditions and be fine?”
“Isn’t that the case? Avoiding a jinx can be surprisingly simple. Just don’t do what brings it about.”
“That’s such a ridiculous argunt….”
“I’ll give you a special gift.”
Ian pulled two gold coins from his pocket. Pressing them together, he ignited a fla at his fingertips and fused them into one. The coins lted under the intense heat and ford a single piece. Wellington watched with a puzzled expression.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s a lucky coin. Flip it. If the front, the side with the portrait, cos up, then accept my investnt and run your trading company.”
Ian flipped the coin into the air. It spun with a crisp sound before he caught it and placed it in Wellington’s hand. Wellington opened his fingers to reveal the emperor’s portrait.
He turned the coin over—another portrait. Wellington chuckled.
“That’s outrageous. Absolutely outrageous. I’ve approached nobles and rchants, asking for one last chance, but they all dismissed as a cursed man. And now, just as I was about to give it all up, soone cos along and gives hope.”
Wellington flipped the coin again. If he accepted this investnt and ran his trading company, would he finally succeed this ti?
‘Should I count a failure if the back cos up?’
He caught the coin on the back of his hand and covered it with his other. Of course, it would be the front.
But in this world, absurd things often happened. It wouldn’t be strange if sothing like that occurred now.
In the faint dread that the back might show, he lifted his hand. The emperor’s portrait stared back at him.
Wellington burst into laughter.
“Hahahahaha! This is incredible! Fine, then. It seems the heavens are offering one more chance. I’ll take it!”
———-
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