After Lucy finished spilling everything, she lowered her head, her heart filled with trepidation.
She knew that Mr. Isaacs usually had a decent relationship with Miss Nancy—one might even call it very good. Miss Nancy was dedicated and kind to the apprentices; she rarely used corporal punishment, mostly just a few swats on the palm or making them stand for an hour, and that was only for the children who were genuinely mischievous.
Lucy herself had been looked after by Miss Nancy, which made her feel a pang of shame as she spoke those words. Would Mr. Isaacs believe her? Would he believe someone who had been illiterate before being hired and could barely even spell her own name?
Lucy didn’t know.
A silence stretched in the room, broken only by the rustling of paper stirred by the wind. Lucy, her nerves frayed, misread Mr. Isaacs’ silence.
“I’m not lying!” she croaked, her voice tinged with a desperate recklessness. “I heard them very clearly—”
She looked up, her eyes widening.
That wasn’t the sound of paper rustling; it was the sound of Mr. Isaacs chewing on that piece of bread, which was dried so hard it was like a stone.
But—but that was a decoration that had been air-dried for ages! It was the kind of thing even a rat’s teeth couldn’t pry apart. She had only brought it over to make the place look presentable; she didn’t mean for Mr. Isaacs to actually eat it!
“Mhm, I know,” Arna said indistinctly, swallowing the breadcrumbs that felt like sawdust. She watched with satisfaction as her Stamina rose slightly.
Noticing Lucy’s expression, which looked as though she’d seen a ghost, Arna paused. “…What is it?”
Lucy didn’t speak; she just stared blankly at Arna’s now-empty hand.
After pondering for a moment, Arna had an epiphany. “Are you hungry too?”
With that, she turned and opened the safe. “Good thing I keep plenty of food in here…”
Lucy saw the legendary safe, rumored to hold many treasures, for the first time. It was crammed with a chaotic jumble of items. Most of it was food wrapped in kraft paper, while golden axes, swords, and pickaxes were squeezed into a small corner at the very back.
She was utterly dumbfounded. Who on earth would forge the most valuable gold into tools like that and then stuff them in with a pile of random food?
Looking at the stunned Lucy, Arna didn’t think anything was amiss. She knew a bit about the conditions of this era; the child probably hadn’t seen good food since she was young and was just dazed by the sight.
Thinking this, Arna reached in and tossed a food bag containing a pie into Lucy’s arms.
With a conflicted heart, Lucy instinctively caught it to keep it from falling. She looked down and saw a small parcel of food emitting a faint, savory aroma of oil. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to be touched or to find it hilarious.
In Mr. Isaacs’ heart, were those golden items less important than the food sitting on top of them?
“Alright, go down and eat,” Arna said generously, adding a word of comfort. “I know about the other matters. You don’t need to worry.”
She thought highly of this employee, who was always diligent in producing high-quality products for her.
Lucy nodded and turned to leave. But as she reached the door, she asked softly, “…The factory won’t close, and you won’t go bankrupt, right, Mr. Isaacs?”
Arna, who had just picked up a cup to take a sip of water, choked.
“…Wait,” she said incredulously. “Who said I was going bankrupt?”
***
Arna never expected that just because she had been slack for a few days and hadn’t gone out to earn extra cash, rumors would start spreading that her factory was on the verge of collapse.
After seeing Lucy out, she slumped in her chair and let out a heavy sigh. Although Fagin and his lot had taken the bait, which achieved her original goal, why did she feel so inexplicably annoyed?
With that thought, Arna decided to head out for a stroll.
Arna successfully retrieved her carriage. Sitting on the driver’s seat and holding the reins, she considered where to go for a wander. But before she could decide, a small figure darted up.
The clever devil named Dodger sat down beside her with a grin, his hat tilted jauntily on his head. “Little Mr. Isaacs, kind gentleman, please give me a lift! I’ve just asked Miss Nancy for some time off to buy a pair of socks. Mine are so tattered they’re beyond repair.”
He winked, his speech quite entertaining. “I’ve ridden in carriages before, but never one driven by a gentleman himself!”
Arna glanced at him silently, recalling Watson’s previous riding experience. She kindly asked one more time, “Are you sure?”
Dodger hadn’t hopped on just for the ride; he had other intentions. He certainly wasn’t going to back down now.
“Of course, sir,” he whistled. “Let’s be off!”
Arna gave the reins a light flick. The horse, which had developed a rapport with her over time, began to move. The carriage rattled forward, its wheels clattering over the uneven cobblestones.
“Where should I drop you off?” she asked. “I’ve never been to a sock shop. You’ll have to tell me the specific location.”
Dodger gripped the seat. For a moment, he fell silent, and his usual bravado vanished.
Then, he spoke. “Listen, sir, I’m not one to snitch. I guess Oliver told you about Fagin at the start, didn’t he? Fagin has gone mad.”
Arna’s eyes widened, and she instinctively slowed the carriage.
…What was going on? Had she triggered two snitching events?
“Saturday night, Fagin and the others plan to knock you out. Nancy is supposed to put a bit of sedative in your cup while the others are busy clearing out your safe,” Dodger continued, making a face, oblivious to Arna’s expression. “But she’s… not keen on it. Sykes made her agree to it.”
Dodger’s voice dropped, becoming uncharacteristically serious.
“She’s scared, Isaacs. Scared for me, or the others—at least half of us don’t even want to do it. Maybe you know, maybe you don’t.” He sighed. “But Fagin is trying to make us see you as a fat cat.”
He wiped his face with one hand. Suddenly, the swaggering youth was gone, replaced by what looked like a weary, exhausted teenager.
“I know, I might be too soft, not enough of a tough guy… but you gave us beds, blankets, and enough in the trough to keep us alive.” His heart was torn. “It’s not right to bite the hand that feeds you.”
Arna looked at the boy and patted his shoulder.
“I understand,” she said easily. “You don’t need to worry about this.”
Dodger’s eyes widened. “Then how do you plan to…” deal with them?
Before he could finish, Arna let out a loud, sharp whistle.
Hearing the sound, the horse gave a loud response and suddenly accelerated. Dodger let out a yell as the carriage jolted forward, grabbing the side railing for dear life. His hat nearly flew off.
“Ah! Give me a warning next time!” he shouted over the roar of the speeding carriage. “Or are you planning to kill me before that guy finds out?”
Arna ignored him, urging the carriage faster and faster. “Where’s the fun in a warning?”
She even equipped the Title she had obtained last time, giving the carriage a five percent speed boost.
“This is wicked!” Dodger accused, but at this flying speed, he was torn between remaining terrified and breaking into a forced smile.
The wind tugged at Dodger’s oversized coat sleeves as if on purpose, making him wobble. The shops and pedestrians of the city blurred past his eyes, as if he were leaving everything behind, leaving only a sense of relieved lightness.
Although Arna didn’t say anything to encourage him, he found a bit of solace in this reckless act. He couldn’t quite explain it, but it felt good.
The wind rushing past brought the salty scent of the River Thames, and Dodger suddenly began to laugh. His expression relaxed, becoming more lighthearted. “You must have a plan in mind, right, sir?”
“I’m not telling you,” Arna said mischievously.
“That’s fine, I don’t want to hear it anyway,” the overly mature boy shrugged. As the carriage slowed, he jumped off. “I’m off! Really going to buy socks now.”
He landed skillfully, supporting himself with his hands and rolling once. “See you at the factory tonight!”
With that, he patted the dust off his trousers and walked away nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just revealed a terrible secret.
Seeing him leave so coolly, Arna couldn’t help but laugh. She parked the carriage near the riverbank, leisurely took out her fishing rod and bucket, and began to fish.
Luck was on her side today; soon, her bucket was full to the brim. Realizing it was nearly noon, Arna picked up the heavy bucket and climbed back onto the carriage.
Perfect. She’d set half aside for the children’s meal and take the rest back to Baker Street.
When Arna carried the fish into the kitchen, an inviting aroma greeted her. The scent of butter was wonderful; she couldn’t help but sniff a few times, feeling her stomach grow satisfied just from the smell.
“Another extra treat today? You’re truly generous, Mr. Isaacs,” the cook, Mrs. Laura, praised the lavish lunch. “You know, few factory owners in the East End are as generous as you! It’s truly an honor to work for you here.”
She took the fish and began skillfully gutting them, removing the entrails, and preparing them for marinating.
Arna felt a bit smug hearing this. “It’s nothing, really.”
She began washing her hands in a wooden basin nearby. Halfway through, a small voice came from the side.
“Mr. Isaacs?”
Arna looked up. Oliver, who always liked to come and help at this time, stood at the door. His hands were twisting the hem of his oversized apron, and his face looked a bit pale. He looked at Mrs. Laura, then at Arna, his expression pleading.
“I’m not… I’m not interrupting, am I?” he stammered. “I have something I want to tell Mr. Isaacs.”
Arna: …It couldn’t be the same thing again, could it?
Out of suspicion toward the Developer, she wiped her hands and pointed to the storage room next door. “Let’s go.”
The moment the door closed behind them, Oliver spoke.
“Fagin is planning something. He’s having the kids stir up trouble, and Nancy—” he swallowed hard, “might help, I think.”
It really was that.
Arna rubbed her forehead, feeling a bit of a headache coming on.
Developer, could you be any lazier? This is the third time the snitching plot has triggered!
She knew that reaching max favorability would trigger special events… but what kind of game has an NPC whose special events are all about snitching?