Lucky Coin

Madman

After leaving Old Man Foller, Lape took a deep breath and started to run. Usually, he walked when delivering letters, but now he needed to pick up the pace to get them delivered as quickly as possible.

Passersby were astonished to see a young postman sprinting down the street with a mailbag on his back.

“25 Shibilian Street, 26 Shibilian Street, 29 Shibilian Street…” Lape held a stack of letters in his hand, mentally reciting the addresses as he dashed past one front door after another. Each time he zoomed by, his hand would stretch out lightning-fast, swiftly inserting a letter into the mailbox.

It looked effortless, but in reality, it was quite challenging.

Each house had a unique front door, some with steps, some without, some with railings, and some without. The mailboxes were also different; some were just a simple slit in the door, while others had rain shields, flaps, or bolts. He had to be quick and precise with his movements.

After running through over a dozen streets, Lape stopped at a crossroads, leaning on his knees and gasping for breath.

He was tired, but he couldn’t stop. Delivering letters this way not only saved time but also served as training.

The motion of inserting letters into the mailbox could be likened to a thrust, incorporating variations such as upward flicks, downward presses, and light nudges.

Fortunately, he didn’t have to deliver packages. If he had to deliver packages, he couldn’t train this way. Lape had already made up his mind to only deliver letters in the future and let others handle the packages; he would rather run a few extra blocks.

Lape wasn't worried about finding someone willing to exchange; packages were much less frequent than letters. Delivering packages would take more time, but it wouldn’t be as exhausting.

However, before that, Lape needed to buy a good pair of running shoes. After catching his breath and recovering a bit of energy, he continued to run.

By the time he delivered the last letter, it was around two in the afternoon, which was much earlier than usual. Of course, Lape paid the price for this; his chest felt like it was going to explode, his legs felt leaden, his calves were sore and swollen, and his stomach was growling with hunger. He wanted nothing more than to go home, lie in bed, and not get up again, even having his mother bring him dinner. Unfortunately, that wasn’t an option—he still had to go to 23 Jeffrey Street to help Old Man Foller tidy up the room.

“I wonder if there’s any food at the old man’s place?” Lape murmured to himself. Then he thought of something: the old man was too lazy to clean his bedroom, so it was hard to imagine he would cook for himself. He would probably be living off stale bread and cheese.

Should he take over the old man's meals? That would definitely please the old man, and Lape could fill his own stomach while saving some money for his family. Just the thought of it made him feel less tired, and his steps felt much lighter.

“You’ll cover all three meals?” The old man perked up at the news.

Just as Lape had guessed, the guy had been nibbling on stale bread and cheese for years and was eager for a change.

“How’s your cooking?” The old man’s only concern was this.

“Absolutely no problem! My father originally wanted me to become a chef,” Lape said casually, though in reality, he wasn't very skilled in the kitchen. He could manage to fry an egg, but that was about it. However, he didn’t care; he had the lucky coin, and among its previous owners, there was bound to be someone with culinary skills, not to mention memories of delicious food and cooking.

The old man no longer hesitated. He went downstairs and returned shortly after, holding a money pouch.

“This is two hundred bisha. The kitchen hasn’t been used in years, so the plates and dishes should be usable, but the pots are all rusty. You’ll need to buy a new set. Also get some charcoal and seasonings, and with the rest, buy some ingredients… If it’s not enough, just come back for more.” The old man certainly wasn’t short on money.

Seeing so much money at once, Lape forgot all his fatigue.

Lape spent the entire afternoon busy with preparations. After tidying up the living room and kitchen, he rushed to the market, where he bought everything he needed and even hired a few people to help carry the items back. He also had them take out all the accumulated garbage, including an old set of furniture.

This was the benefit of having money. Lape increasingly yearned to become wealthy himself, but he would never dare to entertain any thoughts of embezzlement. It was fine to take a little advantage here and there, like enjoying a free meal, but he firmly believed that he shouldn’t touch other people’s money—that was his principle.

By evening, Old Man Foller emerged from his laboratory. When he saw the freshly tidied living room, he raised an eyebrow and said, “Not bad—no, it’s excellent.”

What pleased the old man most was the food laid out on the dining table: a roasted turkey, a thick steak, and a bowl of salad. He had long forgotten how many years it had been since he had enjoyed a proper meal. Although the old man didn’t have high standards for his quality of life, he certainly didn’t want to live in a dump and gnaw on stale bread.

“Did you make this?” the old man asked.

“Are you satisfied?” Lape didn’t answer directly. He had bought the food from a restaurant; he certainly didn’t possess such culinary skills. However, this made Lape determined to search the memories within the lucky coin while he slept, hoping to find something related to cooking, culinary arts, or gourmet food.

“I got rid of the old furniture; that shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Lape shifted the old man’s attention.

“Throw it away if you want,” the old man replied dismissively. He had no guests coming over anyway, and he used to eat in the laboratory. The living room was an unnecessary space for him, let alone the old furniture.

“When will you teach me magic?” Lape asked softly.

The old man hesitated for a moment, then finally said, “I don’t have time. You can read the books yourself. There’s a pile of basic books in the corner of the study; they’re all ones I used before. Some of them have my notes, and there are a few dictionaries that record most common plants and minerals. This is useful not just for alchemists but for other types of mages as well.”

His response felt somewhat dismissive.

The old man hadn’t even read all the dictionaries himself, let alone memorized them. He could only remember the materials he used often, and for unfamiliar ones, he still had to flip through the books. To read through all those dictionaries would take at least six months, and to memorize them all, probably a decade or more.

“Is the money enough?” the old man began to change the subject.

“Enough… as long as we don’t buy furniture,” Lape replied, glancing at the empty living room.

“There’s no need to worry about money. If it’s not enough, just let me know.” The old man didn’t want to deprive himself. He certainly wasn’t interested in handling all these matters himself, but if someone else was doing it, he wanted to enjoy the benefits.

Suddenly, the old man waved his hand, and after a moment, a card flew down from upstairs. The old man caught it and casually tossed it in front of Lape. “When you have time, could you run to the library for me? I think I still have a few books that I haven't returned; they might not even be there anymore…” He then waved his hand again. “Never mind, it’s not a big deal; I’ll just pay the fine. You can ask them how much the fine is, then come back and tell me. From now on, you’ll be responsible for this card. If I need to borrow any books, I’ll let you know, and you’ll manage those as well. Just don’t touch the books in the bedroom; those are the ones I use often. I know where they are, and if you tidy them up, I might have trouble finding them.”

“I understand,” Lape replied quickly, already determined to search the memories within the lucky coin to see if there was anything related to being a steward. It seemed he had a lot to learn.

“I need to go back to my experiments. A hearty meal really helps with thinking; I suddenly have an idea,” the old man said, throwing down his knife and fork and hurriedly running upstairs. At that moment, he looked quite mad.

Lape quickly went over to clear the table. There was still more than half a turkey left on the plate. He had planned it that way; when he bought it, he knew the old man wouldn’t finish it, so the leftovers would all be his. Lape saved a pair of turkey wings to take home and share with his family. He also left most of the salad behind, but packed a portion since it wasn’t easy to carry.

After filling himself up, wiping the table clean, and washing the dishes before putting them away in the cabinet, Lape left the house.

On his way home, despite being exhausted, Lape’s steps were unusually light, and he was in good spirits. Just as he was nearing home, a few people suddenly charged out from a nearby alley, one of them grabbing Lape by the collar.

Lape quickly sidestepped and then delivered an elbow strike, sending that person crashing to the ground, clutching his chest.

With one down, Lape rushed forward and aimed a high side kick at another person. There was a sharp crack as his foot connected with that person’s face, and he fell to the ground as well.

“Stop! We’re just here to take something!” the last person shouted.

“Take something?” Lape finally noticed the three people in front of him, and the remaining one was the pickpocket who had shoved stolen goods into his pocket yesterday.

Lape glanced around and dragged the guy into the alley.

“All this stuff belongs to you. Don’t mess with me again,” Lape said as he pulled out the bag from under his clothes, which contained all the stolen goods except for the lucky coin.

The pickpocket weighed the bag and felt it was about right, thinking he hadn’t stolen anything after all. Just then, the first guy he had knocked down got back up and cursed, “This isn’t right; there’s stuff missing!”

“How dare you accuse us? Are you looking for trouble?” Another guy, still lying on the ground, chimed in angrily.

“You haven’t even looked and already you’re sure I took your things?” Lape snapped back, his temper rising. If it had been him yesterday, he might have swallowed his anger, but not now. The owner of the lucky coin was someone of high standing; even the one who had been attacked was a close aide to the king. Lape could not afford to embarrass himself in front of these thugs.

“I’m sure you took our stuff, what are you going to do about it?” the guy on the ground cursed more ferociously, still stinging from the side kick he had received, which felt like a slap in the face.

Before he could finish, Lape lunged toward him and stomped down on his right hand. A cracking sound followed.

“Ah!” the guy screamed in pain, clutching his wrist.

“Y-You better not go wild! We can’t do anything to you, but what about your mother and sister? If we get angry, we’ll just burn your house down and sell your mother and sister to a brothel to settle the score,” the other guy said, taking a defensive posture but cursing more venomously.

Lape was furious, but those words struck a nerve.

He could brush it off, thinking he could just hide at Old Foller’s place. He didn’t believe these thugs would dare to provoke a wizard, but his family couldn’t.

Lape would never forget the legendary knight who was executed; his tragedy began with the death of his fiancée. The knight was incredibly strong and undefeated, but his fiancée was just a vulnerable woman.

“What do you want?” Lape gritted his teeth and asked.

“We want to see your boss,” the pickpocket blurted out, regretting having brought these two idiots with him. However, he hadn’t expected Lape to be so fierce, as he seemed like a different person from yesterday.

The veins on Lape’s forehead pulsed slightly; he could guess the intentions of these guys just by feeling. Yesterday, they had used a small piece of leverage to drag him into their mess, forcing him to help them smuggle goods. Now, they wanted to pull him further into their schemes.

“Wait here; I’ll go home first,” Lape said, heading straight toward his house.

As soon as Lape entered the house, he saw his family already sitting at the dining table, but they hadn’t started eating yet—they were waiting for him.

“I’ve already eaten and brought back some things,” Lape said, placing two grease-stained paper bags on the table.

“Oh yay!” his sister cheered, jumping up as she caught a whiff of the delicious aroma.

However, there was no joy on his parents' faces.

“Where did this come from?” his father asked with a serious expression.

“Do you know that crazy guy at 23 Jeffrey Street? Cosby asked me to help deliver a package because he was scared of him. I agreed, and it turned out that the crazy guy was actually quite nice. I helped him tidy up his place, and now he’s hired me to help him with things. Mom, can you help wash his clothes when I bring them back?” Lape asked that last question to shift the focus.

His mother took the bait immediately, exclaiming happily, “Of course! Our fortunes are changing; we’ve met someone important!”

“I’ll have to go back there; it’s like a dog’s den with so much to sort out. Tomorrow morning, I have to go early to help him make breakfast. Don’t prepare dinner for me anymore; if I have the chance, I’ll bring back some food like today,” Lape made up a reason for being out late.

“Great! Great!” his sister clapped her hands excitedly.

“Taking things from someone else... it doesn’t seem right,” his father hesitated.

“Don’t worry. Mr. Foller may seem a bit crazy, but he’s actually a nobleman—a nobleman obsessed with magic. He doesn’t eat leftovers; he asked me to get rid of them,” Lape lied casually, not believing his father would verify it with Old Foller.

“That’s good, that’s good,” his father said, feeling reassured. To be honest, he couldn’t bear to refuse when he saw the hopeful look in his daughter’s eyes.

“I’m heading over now; I might be back a bit late,” Lape said as he turned and left the house.