89.
His joining an unplanned non-profit volunteer organization was purely coincidental. He was enticed by hearing that a few years of experience with the organization would make job hunting easier, so he joined without much thought. Fortunately, having a senior from college in a key position at the organization made it easy to get in.
It was just a perfunctory participation to fill a few lines on his resume, so he only intended to help with office work and had no plans to go abroad for volunteer work. But once he joined the organization, they were severely short-handed, and he got swept up in the atmosphere. When he came to his senses, he was already in a foreign land.
When he first breathed in the hot air that made him sweat even while standing still, he kept complaining that he shouldn’t have come and that he shouldn’t have joined such an organization from the beginning. But that thought completely reversed before long.
A unexpected jackpot hit at a place he had inadvertently drifted into.
Maybe people really do get rewarded for doing good deeds. That’s what he arbitrarily thought.
That day, he had gone out sightseeing alone on a rare day off. In the morning, he visited a crocodile farm, and in the afternoon, he went to a nearby mangrove conservation area. The shadow of the giant trees densely flourishing over the quietly flowing river made his heart feel wide open, and he was thinking that it would be good to visit a place like this at least once in a lifetime.
From somewhere, a faint human moan was heard.
During the off-season on a weekday morning, there were no other tourists in the conservation area. At first, he thought it might be a ghost and his shoulders tensed. But as he got closer to the unknown sound, it became clearly evident that it was a sound coming through human vocal cords.
A bloodied man had collapsed unconscious on top of a low-lying young mangrove branch.
Though cunning enough to look after his own interests, he wasn’t inherently so malicious, so without further thought, he immediately carried the unfamiliar person on his back and ran. An employee in the conservation area was also startled and personally drove them to the city by car.
Coincidentally, the doctor examining patients at the city hospital was also dispatched from the same volunteer organization, so the reception process could be handled quickly.
Following the doctor’s guidance, he was about to lay the stranger he had carried on his back onto a gurney.
Clink.
A very clear metallic sound rang out, inappropriate for the urgent situation. He reflexively looked down. There, a blood-stained ring that seemed to have just fallen off the stranger’s finger was rolling on the floor.
Afraid someone might see, he quickly picked it up and rubbed off the blood on the ring. Even at a glance, its weight suggested it was no ordinary jewel.
He looked alternately at the bloodied man who was still unconscious and the medical staff who were busy with emergency treatment, then promptly slipped the ring into his pants pocket.
If he hadn’t carried him here, this person would have died on the spot. This small fee was ridiculously cheap compared to the value of a life. That’s how he calculated the transaction on his own.
It wouldn’t matter if the person woke up and asked about the ring. He could just say he hadn’t seen it. The owner of the ring wouldn’t even know where or how it had fallen off.
Returning to his lodging, he immediately gently washed the ring where blood had dried. Although he had lived relatively comfortably, he wasn’t wealthy enough to casually buy gemstones with such large carats, so he only knew it was unusually large but couldn’t gauge exactly how many carats it was.
Considering how brightly it shone even under the crude fluorescent light, it didn’t seem to be a cubic zirconia. Even if it’s just 1 carat, how much would this be worth? At least ten thousand dollars? With his heart swelling with excitement, he discreetly inquired about places where he could sell the ring.
Fortunately, a place where he could discreetly dispose of stolen goods was included right within the activity area of the volunteer organization. At this point, things were going so smoothly that he almost had the illusion that the whole world was working together to help him.
The sinister fence with several ominous scars on his face informed him that the diamond attached to the ring he had brought was 3 carats. It was better than expected.
The fence said that although it had many impurities and decreased commercial value, since the stone itself was quite large, he would pay thirty thousand dollars for it. He sold the ring immediately without even considering looking elsewhere.
Zelda Grant still doesn’t know, but the one who gained the biggest fortune that day was not him but the fence. After all, he had swallowed at a price less than half of what the ring was worth – a ring of the highest quality in purity and other aspects, which would have easily exceeded eighty thousand dollars.
The original owner of the ring had not regained consciousness by the time Zelda Grant sold the ring and received the thirty thousand dollars in cash in several installments. In the meantime, his pangs of conscience had gradually tapered off like a shadow at noon.
All accompanying medical expenses were covered by the volunteer organization’s support funds. Others who didn’t know what kind of compensation Grant had swallowed praised his genuine service, saying how desperately he had carried and saved someone who wasn’t even an acquaintance. His shoulders naturally swelled with pride.
It was more than a month later when the stranger regained consciousness. Grant was secretly nervous, thinking he might immediately look him straight in the eye and shout, “Where’s my ring, you thief!” But fortunately, that didn’t happen. The owner of the ring didn’t even realize the ring’s whereabouts, let alone who he originally was. Heaven was still on his side at that time. Grant inwardly rejoiced.
After that, his greed grew more and more.
Regardless of the circumstances that had left him collapsed there, judging by the value of the ring, the stranger was undoubtedly the son of a wealthy family.
Grant devotedly dedicated the remainder of his volunteer period to finding the other family members of the man who had started to be called Won. If, after he returned to his home country, another person found Won’s family and received gratitude in his place… it would truly be unbearable, frustrating, and unfair.
But perhaps his luck only went that far. Won’s rich parents, whom Grant had been desperately longing for, did not appear at all, and Grant had to return home so futilely. Still, he tried to console his disappointed heart, saying that the thirty-thousand-dollar lottery ticket was quite sweet anyway.
After returning, he withdrew from the volunteer organization and, as planned, got employed at a decent workplace, completely forgetting the events of three years ago and living well, but…
“Are you Mr. Zelda Grant?”
“What? Ah, yes. That’s me, but why are you…”
“Excuse me for a moment.”
“Mmph, mmmmph!!”
Unbelievably, on that lucky day, on his pleasant early journey home, Zelda Grant was kidnapped. By people he didn’t know, just 200 meters away from his front door.
* * *
“Wake him up.”
Splash!
Suddenly, chills ran down his spine. Zelda Grant woke up to cold water drenched over his entire body, his legs flailing.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Zelda Grant.”
“Urgh. W-what, what is this about…!”
Where was this place, and who was this man in front of him? What was his purpose? Was he some kind of insane murderer? All kinds of unfortunate imaginations jumbled together, turning his brain to mush. His teeth chattered involuntarily. His arms wouldn’t move. They were firmly tied, with him seated in a chair.
Just three or four steps in front of Grant sat an East Asian man with a particularly intimidating aura, with his legs crossed. He desperately looked around. He needed to at least get a sense of where he was to either ask for help or plan an escape.
As he frantically looked around, a familiar, grotesque person suddenly came into view. The sight was so welcome that tears almost welled up in his eyes.
With a hat pulled low and a mask pulled up high, it was impossible to see his facial features, but how could Grant not recognize him? He was Grant’s lottery ticket, whom he had saved himself. Even the worn-out hat deeply covering his face had been tossed to him by Grant as if it were charity, so there was nothing more to say.
“Won! Won! It’s been so long! It’s me, Zelda! What the hell is going on? How do you know that, that, that person? Whatever this is about, tell them to untie me, quickly, right now!!”
He shouted excitedly, and the East Asian man who had been standing in front of Grant finally turned around and said something to Won in an incomprehensible language.
He was asking if Won originally knew this person. Won nodded, and annoyance filled the man’s face as he sharply threw out a few words. It was a criticism asking if he enjoyed just watching the man act like a madman until his arrival. Finally, a heavy roar erupted from the mouth of the East Asian man who had only appeared composed, and Won left the room with his shoulders hunched dejectedly.
Grant tried to hold onto Won with a scream, but it was impossible. In the blink of an eye, he was left alone with the intimidating East Asian man.
“There’s no need to be so tense, Mr. Grant. I’ve just invited you because I have something to ask.”
“W-what…, what… W-what on earth are you curious about…”
The coldly settled energy was clearly refined, but the man strangely exuded a beast-like impression. He seemed like someone who could naturally pull out a knife from his neat pants pocket and stab it into Grant’s nape.
“Let me ask you directly.”
The man thrust a jeweled necklace in front of the frightened Grant’s eyes. Grant gulped.
“I’m told this is a jewel you sold off three years ago. Where did this diamond come from?”
It was a fierce voice filled with resentment, as if he were looking for the mortal enemy who had killed his parents. Oh no, was it not a lottery ticket but a landmine? The man’s voice and demeanor were so ominous, like grinding teeth, that Grant didn’t even consider the possibility that the man might actually be desperately searching for the owner of the jewel, who was very precious to him.
“T-that… H-how can you ask me that…”
So Grant decided to quickly reveal the source of the ring without further concealment, as if hastily throwing away a bomb he had ended up carrying.
“Speak so I can understand.”
“It’s not mine. It was Won’s, that ring…”
The person who was just in this room with us, I mean.
Author: Hyacinthus B
Hyacinthus
