An old gentleman walked into the antique shop, curiously looking around at the surroundings. The old display cases, cheap iron shelves, and the "antiques" that were almost haphazardly placed perfectly reflected the shop's nature: everything in the store was fake except for the money they collected.
Despite this, the gentleman, who looked nothing like an ordinary citizen from the lower district, continued to examine the items in the shop with great interest until he finally turned his gaze when he heard Duncan's voice from the counter.
"That's an interesting saying," the old gentleman chuckled, "taking away something that’s meant for you... Leaving the items aside, it's a beautiful phrase in itself."
"Well, having fate is not enough; you also need money," Duncan replied with a smile. "Fortunately, nothing here is expensive—do you see anything you like?"
"Um... I'm not here to buy anything," the old gentleman opened his mouth, "actually..."
Before he could finish, Duncan enthusiastically continued, "Whether you buy or not, it's good to take a look. You might find something you like!"
A hint of helplessness appeared on the old gentleman's face. "But... all these things are fake."
"Of course," Duncan said matter-of-factly, "could real items be displayed here? I don't even have a security door; I rely on the fact that thieves can't make a profit."
The old gentleman's expression shifted slightly, clearly taken aback by Duncan's calm attitude about selling fake goods. He paused for several seconds before speaking, "Well..."
"People who are good at convincing themselves can treat my shop as an antique store for self-satisfaction. Realists can see it as a grocery store for quality and low prices. If someone wants to understand reality but also deceive themselves, I congratulate them for finding a gold brick in a junkyard.
There’s only one real item in this whole shop, and they just happened to stumble upon it—what a coincidence! After all, spending thirty or fifty is mainly for fun. Even if you get swindled here, you won't lose more than a hundred, and you might walk away with a piece of modern industrial craftsmanship.
Isn't that a good deal?"
The old gentleman listened, somewhat stunned by Duncan's twisted reasoning. He seemed to lack experience in this kind of social interaction and took a moment to process it. Suddenly, his gaze landed on a corner near the counter, and his expression changed slightly.
Duncan was enjoying the business conversation when he noticed the old gentleman's change in focus. Suddenly, he remembered something, but before he could speak, he saw the old gentleman reaching out towards that corner. "This item..."
In the midst of a pile of junk, he discovered an old dagger that was remarkably well-preserved.
He pulled the dagger out. It was one of the only two real items in the antique shop, an old object from the Lost Country ship that Duncan had hidden in the junk. The other item was a cast iron cannonball buried deeper in the pile.
At first, Duncan thought about diverting the old gentleman's attention, but then he noticed the change in the gentleman's expression and the professional demeanor as he examined the dagger's sheath. Duncan quickly realized something: this old gentleman might be a "professional."
Duncan frowned and scanned the dagger.
It wasn't a big deal—this item wasn't extraordinary, nor did it carry any curses or pollution like "sea products." Although it came from the Lost Country ship, it was essentially no different from regular "antiques."
It was an ordinary item; if he reacted too strongly, that would be odd.
"This item..." the old gentleman repeated, raising his head in surprise, looking at Duncan, "is it also one of the shop's 'products'?"
His words were polite, but the implication was clear: how did a real item end up mixed in with all these fakes? Was it a mistake?
Duncan saw the old gentleman's reaction and guessed he was knowledgeable. It wouldn't be right to pretend he didn't know what he was talking about, so he restrained his smile and responded with a hint of mystery, "Look, isn't this just a fateful encounter?"
Then he cleared his throat and said seriously, "Most items in the shop are discounted, with a few exceptions, like the one in your hand."
The old gentleman immediately turned to glance at the shelves, his eyes sweeping over modern crafts priced in the hundreds of thousands, even after discounts. He must have imagined something, and suddenly found this seemingly shabby antique shop to be mysterious and interesting. He carefully placed the dagger on the counter, seemingly about to ask the price, but just then, a ringing sound from the door interrupted him.
Duncan looked up towards the door and saw Nina's figure.
"Uncle Duncan, I'm back!" Nina shouted towards the counter without even looking up as she entered. "Has Mr. Morris arrived?"
"I haven't seen him," Duncan glanced inside the shop, "I was just entertaining..."
Before he could finish, the old gentleman cleared his throat a couple of times and pointed to himself, "I am Mr. Morris."
Duncan: "…?"
"Mr. Morris!" Nina exclaimed in surprise as she spotted the old gentleman at the counter. She immediately tensed up like a student who just ran into a teacher after school, standing straight and saying, "Good afternoon!"
Duncan looked at Nina and then at the old gentleman, shifting his gaze back and forth, feeling the atmosphere becoming awkward.
"I wanted to introduce myself from the start," the old gentleman said, spreading his hands helplessly. "But you interrupted me before I could speak, and then you started introducing me to the items in the shop..."
Nina quickly realized what was happening and noticed the dull-looking dagger on the counter. She hurried a couple of steps forward, "Teacher, please don’t buy it! Everything in my family's shop is fake!"
Duncan shot Nina a strange look, thinking how honest she was, revealing their shop's secret in less than a second in front of her teacher. Although with the quality of items in the shop and Mr. Morris's expertise in history, it wouldn't make much difference whether she sold it or not...
On the other side, Mr. Morris shook his head after hearing Nina's words and pointed at the dagger on the counter. "This one is real."
Nina was taken aback. "…Huh?"
"This dagger should be from a century ago. It was one of the favorite tools of sailors from central city-states like Prand and Lensa. However, due to the bankruptcy of the forging workshops and the items being easily corroded by wind and waves, very few remain today, and most are in terrible condition..."
As Mr. Morris spoke, he carefully picked up the dagger from the counter. After pulling out a section of the blade, he continued in awe, "I... I've never seen one in such good condition. It looks like it was just recently in use. The blade is sharp enough to slice through paper, and there’s not a single flaw..."
"It even has the 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, Mr. Morris quickly examined the dagger's sheath and accessories more closely, his eyes widening in surprise. "I... I really didn't notice that before... My goodness! This item looks like it was just pulled from the pocket of a sailor from a century ago! If I weren't confident in my judgment, I might even suspect it was an incredible imitation... But even the patterns at the handle's connection and a special flaw at the end of the handle..."
He suddenly paused, looking at Duncan and then at Nina, and the history expert seemed to lose some confidence. "It's really not a replica?"
Nina quickly waved her hands, "Uncle can't make something this real..."
Duncan's eye twitched as he looked at his niece. "Go upstairs and do your homework!"
Nina was momentarily stunned. "I don't have any homework today..."
"Then go read a book!"
Nina stuck out her tongue and took small steps towards the stairs, but after a couple of steps, she turned back to look at her history teacher. "Mr. Morris, don't forget you came for a home visit..."
"Of course, I have a lot to discuss with Mr. Duncan," Mr. Morris said with a bright smile, looking invigorated. "You go upstairs and read—don’t worry, I won't report on my student behind her back."
Nina looked curiously at her uncle and her teacher, seemingly surprised that this "home visit" would start in such a way.
But the next moment, for some reason, she suddenly broke into a smile.
The girl cheerfully ran up the stairs.
(End of Chapter)