Chapter 85: “Reward”

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Gaining his composure, Duncan strode purposefully toward the two sheriffs standing at his shop’s entrance, his inner assurance rooted in his conviction of innocence. Despite his notorious past as Captain Duncan, the daring adventurer of the high seas, his present life as an antique shop owner seemed worlds apart from those exploits. The most questionable event he could recall was his attendance at a clandestine cult meeting, which he had promptly reported to the authorities.

Suddenly, he had an epiphany. Duncan surmised the sheriffs’ purpose, quickening his steps with newfound confidence. However, his niece Nina wasn’t as self-assured. Spotting her uncle descending the stairs, she quickly moved toward him, speaking in hushed tones to avoid being overheard by the law enforcement officers. “Uncle, when the sheriffs ask you questions, you need to be honest, okay?”

Caught off guard by her comment, Duncan looked at her quizzically. “Is that how you perceive me?”

Slightly offended, Nina questioned her notorious uncle, a man often in trouble for his drinking escapades or bar fights. “What else could have possibly prompted the sheriffs to visit us?”

Duncan sighed and proceeded to the entrance, where he was met by the two sheriffs in their dark blue uniforms.

“Good morning, gentlemen. What brings you here today?” he greeted them with a warm smile.

“Mr. Duncan,” began the older sheriff with a formal and courteous demeanor, “we’ve come because your tip has been corroborated. On behalf of the city-state’s governing body, we’d like to express our gratitude for your contribution to upholding law and order. We’ve brought you a reward for your service.”

The younger sheriff then advanced, handing Duncan a thick envelope. Nina, observing from a short distance, was utterly shocked.

Duncan had already guessed their visit was related to the information he provided about the cultist hideout. What he hadn’t anticipated was that they’d bring his financial reward directly to his door. Somewhat taken aback, he accepted the envelope, noting a wax seal marked “435 Sora”—a substantial sum for someone in the less affluent areas of the city.

“So, there’s a financial aspect to this,” Duncan mused, feeling the envelope’s thickness. “I didn’t consider that when I made my report.”

The younger sheriff cheerfully added, “Absolutely, there’s a reward. Our leadership is committed to eradicating criminal activities. Anyone who submits a valid report is entitled to a substantial, tangible reward, especially when the information is remarkably useful.”

Curiosity surged through Duncan as he tried to maintain an air of nonchalance. “I did hear some unusual sounds near that place, but chose not to investigate further. Can you shed some light on what exactly transpired there?”

The two officers exchanged a brief, knowing glance before stepping deeper into the antique store. Nina, vigilantly observing from a distance, briefly looked alarmed before hastily shutting the shop door behind them.

“We weren’t personally at the scene, but from what we’ve gathered, it was rather grim,” the younger sheriff disclosed, lacking the poker-faced professionalism of his older colleague. “You did the right thing by not delving deeper. Reporting it promptly might have saved you from considerable danger.”

The elder sheriff elaborated, “The specifics aren’t for public disclosure. However, it’s important to know that cult activities are escalating in the city. You’d be wise not to mention you filed a report and received a reward.”

Duncan took a moment to digest this information, keenly aware of the situation’s gravity. His antique shop, situated in the lower city—a grim part of the island—often concealed the area’s darkest secrets. This labyrinthine neighborhood was a haven for underground cults seeking anonymity and refuge.

Although his shop was in one of the more reputable sections, far from the most rundown areas, the region was notorious for illicit activities and potential dangers. Being known as someone who reports to the sheriff and collects rewards would undoubtedly make him a subject of suspicion, caution, or even ostracization among local residents.

The sheriffs, well-acquainted with the local socio-cultural dynamics, issued the warning not just as protocol but out of genuine concern for his well-being.

Duncan considered their advice and agreed. This area was indeed a hotbed for subversive groups—he even carried a sun amulet in his pocket for protection.

“I appreciate the advice,” Duncan said, genuinely grateful. Despite some reservations about local law enforcement’s overall effectiveness, these two sheriffs had earned his respect. “Would you gentlemen like a short break before resuming your duties?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” the older sheriff graciously declined, moving toward the exit. “We still have patrolling duties.”

As he prepared to leave, the younger sheriff added, “If you come across any more pertinent information, don’t hesitate to report it. The safety and well-being of our city-state is a shared responsibility.”

“Absolutely,” Duncan responded, clutching the money tightly. A genuine smile spread across his face as he added, “I’ve always considered myself a responsible citizen who takes the city-state’s well-being seriously.”

After exchanging a few final pleasantries, the sheriffs departed, leaving Duncan’s shop marked as the establishment of a conscientious, public-spirited citizen named Mr. Duncan. It wasn’t until their uniformed figures receded from view down the cobblestone street that Nina seemed to shake off her stunned reverie and focus on her uncle.

Duncan had already unwrapped the envelope and was counting the colorful bills. The crisp rustle of the banknotes flipping between his fingers pulled Nina fully back into reality. “Uncle… is this really a reward from City Hall? You actually… really…”

She opened her mouth, searching for the right words, hesitated, and finally decided against voicing her thought: “You actually did something good?”

Reading her unspoken skepticism, Duncan chuckled. “I spotted some illicit activities on my way home yesterday. Reporting them was the least I could do. I’ve always had a vested interest in public welfare.”

Nina simply stared, lost for words.

“What really threw me, though,” Duncan continued, examining the bills, “is how sizable this reward is. It’s much easier money than running a business.”

What he left unspoken was even more significant: based on his gathered information, dozens of cultists from various regions were likely still lurking in the city, meaning more money was waiting to be collected.

Seemingly puzzled, Nina inquired, “Uncle, what did you say?”

“Ah, it’s nothing,” Duncan waved dismissively, his mind racing along this new, lucrative opportunity. Redirecting the conversation, he said, “Shouldn’t you be heading off to school soon? Don’t be late. When is Mr. Morris coming for the home visit?”

Nina refocused. “This afternoon. I only have one class then,” she replied, adding cautiously, “So, Uncle, are you going out today?”

Duncan nodded. “Yes, but I’ll be back before your history teacher arrives.”

This prompted another skeptical look from Nina. “Uncle, what exactly are you planning?”

His smile widening into a full grin, Duncan replied, “Uncle is going on a little hunting expedition.”

A notion was crystallizing in his mind. The sun amulet he carried had proven its worth, and the authorities were willing to compensate those assisting in anti-cult operations. Why not capitalize on this newly discovered income source? Even without monetary gain, Duncan would still disrupt underground cults for community safety. Now, knowing there was financial incentive, he was more motivated to pursue this action to its fullest extent.

Nina, perceptive as always, quickly grasped the implications of her uncle’s cryptic declaration. Her fine eyebrows knitted in concern. “Uncle, just yesterday you talked about rededicating yourself to the shop, organizing it better, and even hiring new staff. Now this?”

“Being a conscientious citizen who helps keep the city safe and being a responsible business owner aren’t mutually exclusive,” Duncan said, waving dismissively. “Now, off you go to school. Trust me, your uncle knows what he’s up to.”

To his surprise, Nina pulled out a chair and sat down, effectively planting herself in the shop.

“Nina? What’s going on?” Duncan questioned, puzzled.

“It’s dangerous out there,” Nina said, lifting her eyes to meet Duncan’s with an intensity that held his gaze. “Both sheriffs said the city isn’t safe. If it’s dangerous enough to warrant caution, why seek it out?”

Duncan was taken aback, standing there looking at the 17-year-old girl acting far more mature than her years. It hit him that she was genuinely worried about his well-being. Nina cared in her unique way, prioritizing safety and caution, anxious about her “chronically irresponsible, financially unstable, and impetuously adventurous Uncle Duncan,” lately too keen to make a quick buck.

Nina’s voice softened, almost whispering, “I don’t need a new bike, Uncle.”

“Go to school,” Duncan finally said, moving closer and gently patting her head. His smile was warm and loving.

Caught off guard, Nina looked up, relief and surprise on her face.

“You’re right. It is a dangerous world,” Duncan affirmed, holding her gaze earnestly. “I promise I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay in the shop until you return.”

For the first time in a while, Duncan felt the comforting weight of responsibility, not just to himself or the city-state’s faceless citizens, but to the young woman reminding him that some things are more important than money or adventure.

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