Chapter 1 The Old Gentleman

The old gentleman stepped into the antique shop, curiously surveying the surroundings. The shop's positioning was almost perfectly embodied by its dilapidated display window, cheap iron shelves, and the seemingly random placement of the "antiques":

Everything in the shop was fake except for the money it took in.

But even so, the old gentleman, whose attire hardly resembled that of an average citizen from the lower districts, was still examining the shop's contents with great interest until Duncan's voice came from behind the counter, finally drawing his attention.

"A very interesting way to put it," the old gentleman chuckled. "To take away what one is destined to find… setting aside the objects themselves, it's a beautiful sentiment."

"Actually, destiny alone isn't enough; you also need money," Duncan replied with a smile. "Fortunately, things here aren't expensive – is there anything you want?"

"Well… I'm not here to buy anything," the old gentleman began, "Actually…"

Before he could finish, Duncan enthusiastically interjected, "Even if you don't buy, it's good to take a look. You might find something that catches your eye."

A hint of helplessness appeared on the old gentleman's face. "But… these are all fake."

"Of course," Duncan said matter-of-factly. "Could real treasures be displayed here? I don't even have a security door. My strategy relies on making sure thieves can't recoup their losses."

The old gentleman's face twitched slightly. He probably hadn't expected the owner of a fake antique shop to have such a candid attitude. It took him several seconds to recover. "…Then…"

"Those skilled at self-persuasion see my shop as an antique store, indulging in a bit of self-satisfaction. Realists see it as a general store, valuing good quality at low prices. And those who acknowledge reality but still want to deceive themselves? Well, I congratulate them on finding a gold brick in a pile of trash – discovering the one genuine item in the whole shop. It's all about happiness for thirty or fifty coins. You can't be swindled out of more than a hundred here, and you get a product of modern industry. Isn't it a bargain when you think about it?"

The old gentleman listened to Duncan's absurd logic, stunned. He probably didn't have much experience with this kind of social interaction, and he was a little overwhelmed. Then, his gaze suddenly fell on a corner beside the counter, and his expression changed slightly.

Duncan, who had been happily immersed in the art of doing business, noticed the change in the old gentleman's gaze and immediately had a thought. But before he could say anything, he saw the old gentleman reach towards that corner. "This…"

Amidst a pile of junk, he found an old-fashioned dagger in remarkably good condition.

He picked up the dagger.

It was one of the old items from the *Lost Ship*, the very item Duncan had hidden in the pile of junk – one of only two genuine articles in the entire antique shop.

The other was a cast-iron cannonball, buried deeper in the pile of junk.

Duncan had initially wanted to divert the old gentleman's attention, but then he noticed the changes in his expression and the professional manner in which he examined the patterns on the dagger's sheath, and he immediately realized something:

This old gentleman might be a "professional."

Duncan frowned, glancing at the dagger.

It wasn't a big deal – the item wasn't a mystical artifact, nor did it carry curses or other "maritime specialties." Although it came from the *Lost Ship*, it was essentially no different from an ordinary "antique."

It was an unremarkable item. It wouldn't do for him to overreact.

"This…" the old gentleman repeated. He looked up, somewhat surprised, at Duncan. "Is this also a 'product' of the store?"

The gentleman's words were euphemistic, but his meaning was clear: How did a real item get mixed in with all this fake stuff? Was it a work error?

Seeing the other man's reaction, Duncan guessed that he was knowledgeable. It wouldn't do to play dumb and feign ignorance; instead, he should acknowledge the situation appropriately. So, he suppressed his smile, adopting a profound expression. "You see, you've encountered something you're destined to find."

Then he cleared his throat, looking earnest. "Most items in the store are discounted, with a few exceptions, such as the one in your hand."

The old gentleman immediately glanced back at the shelves, his gaze sweeping over the "modern handicrafts" priced at several hundred thousand, discounted to several tens of thousands. Who knows what he imagined, but he immediately found this seemingly dilapidated and intimidating antique shop to be mysterious and intriguing. He carefully placed the dagger on the counter, seemingly about to ask about the price, but the sound of a tinkling bell suddenly rang out from the doorway, interrupting his movement.

Duncan looked up at the entrance and saw Nina's figure.

"Uncle Duncan, I'm back!" Nina shouted towards the counter as soon as she entered, without even looking up. "Has Mr. Morris arrived?"

"Haven't seen him," Duncan said, glancing around the shop. "I'm currently entertaining…"

Before he could finish, the old gentleman coughed twice and pointed to himself. "My name is Morris."

Duncan: "…?"

"Mr. Morris!" Nina also saw the old gentleman at the counter and exclaimed in surprise. Then, like any student who runs into a teacher after school, she visibly tensed up and stood ramrod straight. "Good afternoon!"

Duncan looked back and forth between Nina and the old man, feeling the atmosphere finally becoming awkward.

"I wanted to introduce myself at the beginning," the old gentleman said helplessly, spreading his hands. "But I was interrupted before I could even open my mouth, and then you started introducing me to the things in the shop…"

Nina realized what had happened and immediately noticed the dusty-looking dagger on the counter. She quickly took two steps forward. "Teacher, don't buy it! Everything in my family's shop is fake!"

Duncan glanced at the girl strangely, thinking to himself how honest this child was, revealing her family's secrets to her teacher in less than a second – although, given the quality of the goods in this shop and Morris's expertise as a historian, it probably made no difference whether she revealed it or not…

Meanwhile, the old Mr. Morris shook his head after hearing Nina's words, pointing to the dagger on the counter. "This one is real."

Nina was stunned. "…Huh?"

"This dagger probably dates back to a century ago. It was one of the favorite tools of sailors from the central city-states such as Prand and Lunsa at the time. However, due to the bankruptcy of the forging workshops and the fact that items taken to sea are easily corroded by wind and waves, few remain in existence today, and most are in extremely poor condition…"

As Morris spoke, he carefully picked up the dagger from the counter and pulled out a section of the blade, continuing in an admiring tone, "I… I have never seen one in such good condition. It's as if it was recently in normal use. The blade is so sharp it can slice through paper, and there isn't a single flaw on it…"

"It even has its original sheath," Duncan added from the side. "If you look closely, you'll see that even the clasp on the back of the sheath is original."

Upon hearing this, Morris quickly examined the dagger's sheath and accessories more carefully, his surprise growing even more. "This… I didn't notice that before… Good heavens! This thing looks like it was just pulled out of the pocket of a sailor from a century ago! If I weren't so confident in my own judgment, I would even suspect that this is an amazing replica… But even the pattern where the handle connects to the blade and a particular flaw at the end of the handle…"

At this point, he suddenly hesitated, looking up at Duncan and then at Nina beside him. The historian was beginning to doubt himself. "Is it really not a replica?"

Nina quickly waved her hands upon hearing this. "My uncle can't make anything this real…"

Duncan's eyes twitched as he looked at his niece. "Go upstairs and do your homework!"

Nina was taken aback. "I don't have any homework today…"

"Then go read a book!"

Nina stuck out her tongue and walked towards the stairs in small steps, but after taking two steps, she looked back at her history teacher. "Mr. Morris, don't forget that you're here for a home visit…"

"Of course. I have many things to discuss with Mr. Duncan," Morris said with a smile, the old gentleman looking radiant. "You go upstairs and read. Don't worry, I won't tattle on my own student behind her back."

Nina looked at her Uncle Duncan and her teacher, puzzled – she didn't seem to expect the "home visit" to begin in this way.

But the next moment, she suddenly smiled for some reason.

The girl lightly ran up the stairs.