Ch.166Report on the Downfall of Charity (8)

# The job began the next day. The task itself was simple: sit quietly on a chair inside the store and intervene if anyone caused a disturbance.

The assignment was to guard the rambunctious daughter of the Stonemason Guild Master.

It didn’t seem difficult. Befitting her noble upbringing, she traveled to and from the workshop in a private carriage sent by her family, so I didn’t need to accompany her 24 hours a day.

Antonello had kindly prepared decent clothes for me. The reason being that “the employer requires bodyguards to maintain a minimum level of dignity.”

Kindly ignoring his comment that “the cost of clothes will be charged separately,” Kain announced to the wide-mouthed Francesco and the fuming girl that “he would now be guarding this place.”

“I wasn’t told anything about this! This is absurd!”

Ignoring Kain, the girl shouted at Francesco and stormed out.

A moment later, a man with an impressive goatee walked into the workshop.

“Yes, miss. This is indeed the man Captain Antonello mentioned.”

“I didn’t know about this!”

The goatee man gently soothed the girl.

“Miss, what does your father always say? You needn’t react so sensitively to these small matters. You must see the bigger picture.”

He then cast a contemptuous glance at the red-faced Francesco before calling Kain outside.

“Your name is Iago, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“The young lady is as pure and innocent as the first snow, so guard her well so that not even a speck of dust touches her. As you can see, she has a very sensitive and delicate temperament.”

“An artistic temperament, I see.”

Somehow that comment seemed to irritate the goatee man.

“Let’s just say she has refined sensibilities. Artists are an unpredictable and willful bunch. They walk around with their heads bowed in melancholy, and wealthy, kind ‘patrons’ shower them with money and favors.”

The last remark was clearly directed at Francesco.

The goatee man left, Francesco hung his head in resignation, and the girl wouldn’t even look at Kain.

After the minor commotion, nothing unusual happened.

Venelucia is an orderly city, and Francesco’s workshop is located in a clean shopping alley, if not quite in the bustling district.

The customers who visited the workshop wore decent clothes with somewhat valuable brooches and were accompanied by one or two capable-looking servants. Those without servants were officers with shining caps and military swords.

There were many rude and ill-mannered people, but one could still expect them to behave reasonably. Meaning they wouldn’t suddenly try to overturn displays or sweep everything off the workbench.

Francesco’s customer service was also excellent.

As a handsome man who attracted the gaze of both men and women, with a sparkling yet somehow melancholic face, he would ask, “Who are you buying a gift for, and what kind of person are they?”

The customers would then unconsciously pour out stories about themselves and the intended recipients.

For those too shy to speak, Francesco treated them with even more courtesy, and the girl would assist from the side.

After sufficient conversation, Francesco would finally introduce materials and patterns that both the gift-giver and recipient would appreciate.

There was some negotiation, but most customers didn’t stray far from Francesco’s suggestions.

“A master is indeed a master. I’m quite pleased.”

While customers expressed their admiration, Kain analyzed their conversations.

Even from snippets like “which administrator is being transferred where” or “which fleet is going on coastal training for three months,” he could sketch a rough picture of Venelucia and its surroundings.

After chatting for a while, customers would finally turn their attention to Kain sitting silently in the chair. “Who is that person?”

Each time, Francesco would explain, “He’s a bodyguard,” and that was enough for people to say “Ah,” look back and forth between the girl and Kain, and then return to their conversation.

But after the customers left, only coldness remained. The girl openly showed her dislike for Kain, while Kain ignored both her and Francesco, focusing only on his book.

Francesco, meanwhile, seemed uncomfortable. The pressuring atmosphere itself greatly disturbed his sensitive nature.

It was uncomfortable to have the girl and Kain staring at each other like strangers, but if the girl wasn’t present, he would have to revisit the unpleasant past with Kain.

Conversely, if Kain wasn’t there, the girl would pester him about what kind of relationship the two men had.

Fortunately, the girl had run out to call for the big men before Francesco could pour out his resentment toward Kain, so she knew nothing about their connection.

Finding designs in books and devising plausible patterns was exhausting work, so the girl often went outside the shop to take breaks.

Each time, Kain would quietly stand up and watch over her while leaning against the shop wall.

Thanks to this, he was able to preemptively stop troublemakers from approaching the girl.

* * * * *

They looked more like intimidated beggars. Their clothes were shabby and their appearance unkempt, quite similar to how Kain had looked a few days ago when he hadn’t eaten properly or slept well.

As if even stepping onto this decent street was an honor, they hunched their shoulders and stole envious yet fearful glances at the well-dressed people and the gleaming staffs of their bodyguards.

Yet they walked straight toward the girl. It was obvious to anyone that they were coming to cause trouble.

By the time the girl, sensing the strange atmosphere, stood up from the bench, the beggars had already surrounded the area, and Kain was blocking their path.

Kain said nothing and assumed no stance. He simply looked at them with his fists lightly clenched.

The six men hesitated, seemingly intimidated by Kain’s gaze.

“Step aside. Let the young lady go in.”

At Kain’s words, the men made way. The girl quickly ran into the workshop. The loud click of the lock was heard.

But as soon as the girl disappeared, the men’s expressions changed.

“Are you the one Antonello caught?”

“If you had business with me, you could have just called.”

“Would you have come?”

“No.”

The men snickered. They pulled out small metal objects from their sleeves and waistbands. With a click, the folding knives opened. They were crude and dull, looking barely capable of cutting mud.

“Shall we test your skills?”

But their handling of the knives was somewhat impressive.

Normally, when the man in front swung his knife widely, an opponent would step back, then be grabbed by the arms and body by two men waiting in preparation, and finally be stabbed in the stomach. Then they would twist the knife deeply before running away—that was these street dogs’ method.

But today seemed to be their unlucky day.

Instead of stepping back, Kain leaned forward. He grabbed the arm and wrist of the knife-wielding man with a sharp movement. While the suddenly-grabbed man was startled, Kain tripped him and firmly stepped on his neck.

When another man swung his knife, Kain deflected his arm outward and dove under his armpit. After subduing him with a blow to the side, he pushed him toward an approaching dagger.

“Argh!”

The thug who accidentally stabbed his comrade froze. Kain struck his chin upward with his palm. Bending down, he pulled the dagger from the thug’s thigh and gripped it.

Then he charged without a word. But while he thrust his body forward, he didn’t extend his arms. The panicking opponents wasted their attack opportunities by swinging their arms uselessly.

He reversed his grip on the knife. With the blunt end, he struck the thugs’ heads. Nowhere else. Only their heads.

“S-sorry! We’re sorry!”

The man who had been hit in the chin prostrated himself on the ground.

“Who sent you?”

The man clamped his mouth shut again. The area was already crowded with spectators. Even if Kain stabbed all six men in the legs, they probably wouldn’t talk.

A whistle sounded from the distance. It was the city guard. Kain handed the thugs over to them. After explaining the situation, the man who appeared to be the captain raised his eyebrows.

“I hadn’t heard that Antonello had someone like you working for him.”

The guard captain even handed over a handkerchief and a bowl of water. Kain neatly washed the blood from his hands and wiped them with the handkerchief. When he tried to return it, the captain refused, so he just stuffed it into his pocket.

“I was contracted yesterday.”

“My, what’s happening to this city.”

The captain clicked his tongue. He seemed to want to say something more to Kain but instead patted his shoulder encouragingly before leaving.

* * * * *

Kain returned to the workshop as if nothing had happened. The girl, who had watched what Kain did through the window, was too frightened to even look in his direction.

Since he hadn’t expected a warm welcome, Kain simply sat back down in his chair. The day seemed to be ending that way. When a carriage arrived in front of the workshop, the girl gave a quick bow and ran out.

An awkward silence hung between Kain and Francesco. Kain was about to leave.

“Wait a moment.”

Francesco opened a cabinet door and took something out.

Glass cups, a specialty of Venelucia. Both cups were red, but one was red at the bottom and white at the top like sunrise, while the other was red at the top and white at the bottom like sunset.

Next, he took out a glass bottle. After removing the oil-soaked cloth that carefully sealed the opening, the fragrant aroma of wine filled the workshop.

Francesco skillfully poured the wine. And that was the extent of his skill. Both Kain and Francesco hesitated while holding their glasses. It was difficult to make a toast, as neither had spent particularly pleasant time together.

Finally, Kain took the first sip. Francesco sipped from his own glass.

“I’ll apologize for Bella’s behavior. She’s a bit immature. She’s grown physically, but she’s still willful.”

So the girl’s name was Bella. Kain nodded.

“What’s the Stonemason Guild daughter doing here?”

“She likes me.”

Kain stared blankly at Francesco. Francesco burst out laughing. Kain’s shoulders also shook slightly.

“You know me. I don’t stop women who come, and I don’t chase women who leave.”

“You haven’t changed.”

“But that girl is a bit, well…” Francesco took another sip. “She hates her father. She ran away to me as her own form of rebellion.”

“Why you specifically?”

“A skilled libertine wrapped in noblewomen’s skirts, a handsome Rose Party executive who sold out his comrades to save his own skin—isn’t that enough to turn her father’s stomach?”

That sounded familiar. Kain laughed self-deprecatingly. Francesco seemed to feel the same.

“She doesn’t really like me. She wants to like me. That way, she becomes the sentimental girl. The girl who escapes from her wealthy but stifling powerful father to become the savior of a man hated by the world. Romantic, isn’t it?”

“So. Did you save each other?”

“I’m too old for that.”

Kain looked at Francesco. There wasn’t a wrinkle to be seen anywhere.

But the dreamer’s eyes were filled with deep fatigue and boredom. Just as Kain himself had once been.

“The Stonemason Guild Master doesn’t want to overlook his daughter’s impulsiveness, but he also doesn’t want rival guilds to find a weakness. So he specifically requested personal protection from Captain Antonello. Besides Leonardo of Charity, he’s more trustworthy.”

“Is that because Antonello is a Venelucia native and has been a mercenary captain for generations?”

“You know well.”

“He seemed quite proud of being a ‘condottiere.'”

“I’m sure he is.” Francesco refilled both their glasses.

“Leonardo of Charity was originally a pirate. From the perspective of an established mercenary family, he’s just a nouveau riche upstart. Yet he cleverly seized opportunities and expanded his business in various directions.”

“I heard the Stonemason Guild also contracted Leonardo for protection. Was the daughter not included?”

“Ha. Don’t you know the upper echelons of Venelucia?” Francesco gave a hollow laugh.

“They praise Leonardo on the surface, but they actually think he’s a man without proper roots. They think he can’t be trusted. That’s why they employ native mercenary captains like Antonello. It’s a form of subtle check and balance. But even they couldn’t handle Leonardo’s retirement. It caused quite a stir.”

This time, Kain refilled Francesco’s glass.

“Can you tell me more about that?”