93 Playing for Charles (1/2)

Late at night, at the downtown pier in Avalon, an old man stood in the shadows of the dark night, silently smoking his pipe.

He was once the infamous and feared debtor of downtown, the source of many people’s insomnia—Ghosthand. But now, he sat on a worn wooden box, waiting.

Finally, a boat that smelled strongly of fish came through the still waters and stopped by the pier. A wooden plank was laid down like a bridge, and tanned fisherman began transporting fish and crabs onto land.

Ghosthand watched wordlessly as these valuables passed by him. First, there was the fish and crabs, then there was the wine, weapons, silk, and porcelain hidden deep inside the ship.

”Is that all for this time?” Ghosthand took the cargo list from the boatman. Taking a glance, his brows furrowed. ”Who added in their cargo halfway through?”

The boatman hesitated before saying in a low voice, ”Someone entered the boat through our channel in Wales. He seemed high-up, so we didn’t dare ask too much.”

”Didn’t you say that this shipment is very important?” Ghosthand squinted, causing the boatman to start panicking.

”We did, but he insisted. And he also said…he said…”

”What did he say?” Ghosthand took the pipe from his mouth, something sinister appearing on his old face.

”I said that I knew you,” said a voice in the boat behind him. ”And so he brought me over.”

Ghosthand stiffened, his muscles tightened as if he were facing a great enemy. He could not sense the presence of anyone in the boat, but the man was there, standing in the shadows like a spirit. He had been watching Ghosthand that entire time. And his voice was so familiar!

”Who is it?” Ghosthand turned around stiffly, suspicion in his eyes.

Leather shoes stepped onto the deck. Someone walked out from the shadows of the boat and onto land, walking into the moonlight. His face was hidden under the shadow of his wide-brimmed hat, but one could vaguely see that the corner of lips were curled up, as if smiling.

Ghosthand flinched, the dangerous look in his eyes dissipated. Shocked and surprised, he stepped back and took a deep breath. ”Sir?” He stepped forward, trying to see the face clearly.

”What, you don’t recognize me anymore?” The newcomer took off his hat. Wrinkles covered his weathered face, but his eyes were sharp and bright like torches. ”I thought everything had changed in the years I was gone. But you’re still as slow as before, and I suddenly feel relieved.”

”S…Sir, is it really you?” Ghosthand moved closer to study the face as if he were looking at a hallucination. But when he realized that the man was real and not a figment of his imagination, he laughed as if the most wonderful thing had happened.

”Welcome back, Sir.” Ghosthand strode forward and embraced the man tightly. ”You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this day.”

”My apologies. There were some matters to attend to, so I returned a bit late.” The man known as the Shaman embraced his old friend and looked up into the distance, lamenting.

The moon shone in the distance, its silver light spilled over the whole city. The towering landscape of the city against the mountains cast a huge shadow. The shadow’s points were sharp and menacing, piercing one’s eyes. That was Avalon.

”Old friend, I’m back,” the Shaman murmured with a smile.

--

At the pier, there was only the sound of crashing waves.

The Shaman produced two copper tubes from his pocket and handed Ghosthand one. ”Want one?”

Smiling, Ghosthand accepted it and took a cigar from the tube. He sniffed it and furrowed his brows. ”To be honest, even after all these years, your taste still hasn’t improved.”

”You’re still heartless with your words.” Laughing, the Shaman lit his cigar and inhaled. He breathed out a cloud of wispy smoke. ”So many years have passed. I’ve almost forgotten what it looks like here.” He looked back at the pier. Everything was the same but the people were different. Shaking his head, he said, ”It’s a pity. No matter how much it has changed, the rot in the bones is still the same.”

Ghosthand shrugged, ”That’s how Avalon is, Sir.”

”Yes, that is Avalon.” The Shaman snapped his finger and asked, ”How are things? Friend, give me some bad news. You know I need it to get back into spirit.”

Ghosthand cocked his head and pondered. He shook his head. ”If you want bad news, it’s everywhere,” he said straightforwardly. ”To be honest, you’ve been forgotten by the city. Sir, rules don’t exist in Avalon anymore. Ever since that mysterious ‘professor’ appeared, everything became messier and messier.

”The Indian drug traders, the Black Hand Gang who charges people a protection fee, Asgardian soldiers who have nowhere to go after disarmament, pyramid schemes for the elites, black markets for silk and spices. Thanks to the ‘professor’ who guided them, more and more people think that it’s easy to make a living by taking others’ lives.”

”That’s okay, they will know…” The Shaman sighed, lamenting fate. ”…I am back and the good days are over.”

Ghosthand’s eyes brightened. ”You are preparing…”

The Shaman raised a hand, stopping Ghosthand. ”Let’s change the topic, my old friend. Tell me something happy. Have you found that Eastern kid?”

”We’ve found his location. He is at the Royal Academy of Music. The Trader won’t let us touch him and we didn’t dare argue without you here.”

”It doesn’t matter. We’ll just observe for now.”