“You do?” Vivian and Gin ask in surprised unison.

“Why, it’s elementary, my dear Watson,” I say. I’m met with silence and blank stares, which clearly is a result of cultural ignorance; my impression was impeccable. I cough. “Ahem. I mean, the answer,” I begin, “is ‘S’.”

“‘S’? ‘S’ what?” Vivian asks.

“That’s it. The answer is the letter ‘S’.”

“Care to explain how you came to this conclusion, Jaxon?” Gin asks.

I nod. “The first part of the riddle, ‘the beginning of every start, the start of every space’. It’s referring to the words ‘start’ and ‘space’. Both these words begin with the letter ‘S’. The same thing is true of the next part as well, ‘at the end of all pillars’. If you look at the end of the word, ‘pillars’, it’s-”

“The letter, ‘S’,” Vivian concludes.

I nod, raising a finger into the air. “Thus, the answer is the letter ‘S’,” I say smuggly.

As I’m finishing my explanation, I see Vivian moving over to Gin, leaning close to the man as she whispers, “Is he really a child?”

Gin then leans and whispers back, “I do sometimes find myself forgetting as well, just based on the way he acts and talks. But then he’ll make these endearing little faces-”

“Ah! I know which you mean,” Vivian interrupts. Using two hands, she pinches her cheeks, pulling them outwards, her eyes deadpan, “The pouty one, right?”

“Ha! That’s the one-!”

I cough. “Ahem, I can hear everything you two are saying, you know.”

Gin offers an apologetic laugh before returning to the matter at hand. “Right, so the letter ‘S’. Assuming that is the answer to the riddle, how does that lead us to the smugglers? Is it the name of a location? Something that starts with ‘S’? Or-?”

His words trail off, and once more, the room falls into silent contemplation. I realize that Gin has a point. ‘S’ might be part of the answer, but it couldn’t be the entire solution. After all, there’s a whole other clause of the riddle that I had simply skipped over. I recount the clue once more silently in my head.

“I am the beginning of every start, the start of every space, at the end of all pillars, and the direction to the place.”

End of all pillars. Direction to the place. Direction. Direction. ‘S’. Direction. South? Something in the south? What’s in the south? Pillars. Why does that word sound so familiar?

Then it hits me.

“The catacombs!”

To my surprise, my voice is echoed by Vivian’s, for we arrive at the conclusion near simultaneously. Looking to her, I find that she too is a bit wide-eyed. The sound of Gin’s voice, however, draws us away.

“Ho,” he says with a smirk, “and why’s that? Why the catacombs?”

I see Vivian give me a nod, indicating that I should kick us off. “Right,” I begin, “The hint is the word ‘direction’. It suggests that the letter ‘S’ is not just a letter, but that it represents a direction of travel. On a map, ‘S’ indicates ‘South’. This made me wonder what’s in the southside of Ridge Port-”

“And that’s where the word ‘pillars’ matters,” Vivian says, jumping in, “The pillars of Ridge Port represent the four pillars of the goddess, Stier. These are the castle to the west, the port to the north, the church to the east, and in the south-”

“The catacombs,” Gin finishes, nodding his head.

“It makes sense,” Vivian continues, “The catacombs are underground tunnels, isolated from most of the city, and infrequently traveled. It’d make for an ideal location to store smuggled goods.”

Her point about the underground tunnels suddenly causes a memory of mine to resurface, the conversation I had overhead between the two men in the alleyway.

Underground tunnels. Dirt on their pants. It’s tenuous evidence at best, but they were suspicious… Had they been the smugglers Gin and Vivian are after? Then the goods… could it be-?!

Suddenly, I feel myself being dragged to the side, Gin’s arms wrapping me into an embrace. Looking over, I find that Vivian has likewise been sequestered against her will, a ting of annoyance across her face. Gin appears oblivious, however, a hearty laugh on his lips. “Indeed, ‘catacombs’ is the correct answer! Well reasoned, you two! Hahaha!”

Vivian forces free, distancing herself and turning away. “D-don’t treat me like a child,” she mumbles, and I look over in surprise, catching what appears to be a blush on her cheeks.

No way… is she-?

A second later and the expression vanishes from her face, replaced by a narrowing suspicion of the eyes, this time truly cold. She turns to Gin, crossing her arms. “Wait a second, Master, you just said the catacombs is ‘the correct answer’. That makes it sound like you knew what the answer was the whole time...”

The smile drops from Gin’s face, and his emerald eyes gaze anywhere but at Vivian. “Uh, um, maybe?” he says slowly, dragging out his words.

“How long?” Vivian asks flatly.

“For a while now.”

“What? If you knew already where the smugglers were going to be all this time, why haven’t you acted yet?”

“Well, the shipment’s not arriving into town until past midnight tonight. So that’s in, what, at least three hours? Plenty of time.”

“You could have gone to the location earlier to scout the area and prepare, Master,” Vivian sighs.

“I already did,” Gin says, holding a thumbs up and giving a wink.

Rather than seeming impressed by his foresight, however, Vivian’s face only appears to furrow further. “Wait, you knew it was the catacombs and had enough time to scout the entire area already? Hold on, the timing doesn’t work out... There’s no way you could have gotten the information from the-” Vivian pauses, as if a realization has suddenly dawned on her. “-riddle. You didn’t get the smugglers’ location from the riddle. I did think it weird that such information would be rumored around to begin with, let alone in the form of a riddle. So your excuse about Amanda-”

“It’s Alice-”

“- You just wanted to go to a brothel, didn’t you, Master?”

“Vivian, don’t look at your master with such cold, disapproving eyes,” Gin pleads.

Vivian sighs. “Master, you’re as whimsical and reckless as ever,” she says with a helpless shrug, shaking her head back and forth, “Well, I am going to go scout the area now, since I just learned about the location.” Then I see her turn for the door. I move to follow, but immediately, she puts up a hand, stopping me. “Not this time, beansprout. This one is dangerous. Stay here.”

“What, no way am I just going to sit around twiddling my thumb,” I protest, “I want to catch these smugglers too. I can help.”

“Help? You’re just a kid. What can you do to help? You’re just going to get in the way, get yourself hurt, and worst, get yourself killed.”

“I can fight. I already defeated a half-ogre.”

A moment of surprise flashes across Vivian’s eyes. But then, she puts on a condescending grin. “The trick to bluffing is to make your lie sound believable. What you just said… there’s no way a beansprout like you defeated a half-ogre. That’s a C-class monster. Even I’d have trouble with one.”

“It’s true,” I retort, “Gin, tell her.”

“He’s not lying, Vivian. I saw it with my own eyes. A single Magical Arrows, and it was like, Whizz! Boom! Splat!”

“Thank you for that riveting reenactment, Master, but perhaps your eyes deceived you. After all, I’ve had sneezes more powerful than he appears. Even his magic is subpar.”

“Oh, if you were checking with Sense Magic, I did cast an illusion spell on him earlier. Hold on. [Cancel Magic]. There, now try again, Vivian.”

I see Vivian look doubtful for a moment before performing what appears to be a spell, after which her eyes glow momentarily, her gaze falling in my direction. Once it fades, a long silence befalls the room. Vivian’s face is deadpan, her body unmoving. Then suddenly, she skitters calmly over to Gin, dragging the man away by the arm, across the room. She leans in, whispering loudly, gesticulating in my direction. “What the hell, Master? What the hell is he?”