"Do you remember when I was twelve?"
Van unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the hard lines of his body and the explosive strength packed into it.
Then his hand moved to the huge scar that ran from his collarbone all the way down to his lower abdomen.
"I got into it with a gang around here. I can barely even remember why anymore... but I still remember what it felt like. The saw cut across me, and all my strength vanished in an instant. All I could do was hold myself together so my insides wouldn't spill out..."
He lightly pressed the broken spot near his collarbone and could still feel a faint sting.
"Vander carried me back. Everyone said I was done for... But Janna was watching over me. I lived."
"Heh... You really are a lot like Vander. Always putting your faith in things you can't even see."
Vi sounded calmer now, though the resentment was still there.
"But I remember you crying pretty hard back then."
"That was before I knew what kind of bastard you were."
Van laughed and got to his feet.
"So I turned out to be this disappointing, huh?"
Then he gently patted Vi on the shoulder.
"But what if it had been you lying there?"
He looked at her quietly.
"Janna doesn't watch over every reckless idiot... Think about Vander. Think about Powder. If nothing else, do it for your family. Try not to make people worry so much, alright?"
...
...
Benzo's shop.
Creak.
The old wooden door swung open, and Van stepped inside carrying a pile of bundles.
"Back to sell another batch, genius?"
"Mm-hm. Brought plenty of interesting stuff this time. You'd better give me a good price, Benzo..."
As he dusted himself off, Van finally noticed there was a stranger in the shop, carefully examining a mechanical part in his hand.
He had a handsome face, neatly groomed hair, and the kind of clothes and accessories that made it obvious he was not from the Undercity.
"Topsider..."
Van gave a faint laugh, hugged his bundles tighter, and walked right past him to Benzo's counter.
"Move a little, gentleman."
He had just argued with Vi about topsiders, so he was not in the mood to be as polite as usual.
"Uh..."
Van undid the straps on his pack, and a pile of odd little inventions spilled out across the table.
They were all things he had made by reworking the scraps he collected.
Every so often, he brought them to Benzo to sell for him, and Benzo always looked after him, never taking a cut for himself.
That was Van's real and proper source of income.
Robbing people was just occasional extra cash.
"These are all pretty well made this time."
"Mm-hm. Everything I've made this past month is here."
"Pretty well made? They're more than that. They're beautiful."
At some point, the man Van had brushed past had walked over. He picked up a strange mechanical butterfly with a bulb set into its abdomen.
With just a tap of his finger, the butterfly's wings began to tremble. A buzzing sound filled the room, and the little thing seemed to come alive. It rose into the air and fluttered up to the dim lamp overhead.
"The design is excellent... It's just a shame about the materials. They're too heavy. If you had something better to work with, this thing might really fly."
"Uh..."
"That's right. No doubt about it. He's our little treasure down here. That head of his is full of ideas... Most of the things you picked out were made by him."
"Oh? You made all this?"
The man looked genuinely surprised.
"Who taught you?"
"I—"
"No one taught him!" Benzo cut in. "What's the phrase again? He's a genius!"
"That's incredible... You really should study in Piltover. Talent like yours shouldn't stay buried down here."
"See? Good eye, kid, he—"
"Benzo."
Van cut him off, sounding more tired than angry. Benzo choked on the rest of his words the moment he saw the look on his face.
"Van... this brat... ahem, I mean, sir. This gentleman is a student at Piltover Academy. I just think—"
"You don't."
Van shook his head and turned to the well-dressed man.
"I'm fine in the Undercity."
"Why? You're still so young. Your future—"
"For a kid who made it this far in the Undercity, I'm already old enough, sir."
"Uh... alright..."
The man fell silent for a moment, his expression turning strange. After being shut down twice in a row, he could only give an awkward smile.
"This is my card. If you ever run into trouble... come find me at Piltover Academy. Maybe I can help."
He pulled a spotless card from his pocket and held it out to Van. The material was so clear Van could not even tell what it was made of.
Stamped across it in gold lettering was a hammer-shaped emblem and the man's name.
Of course, that cursed artistic handwriting made Van stare at it for a good while before he could make it out.
"Jayce Talis..."
"That's right. And I'd like to buy these interesting little things of yours."
"Is that so? Then..."
Van had been about to ask for a ridiculous price, but then it hit him that he had no experience doing business with topsiders. He genuinely had no idea what to charge.
"Would this be enough?"
Jayce placed a few round objects in Van's hand. Van looked down and recognized them immediately.
Freshly minted gold coins.
"You topsiders are all this generous?"
Jayce smiled warmly.
"No. I just think your talent deserves more."
Van was quiet for a moment. Then he shook his head, picked out one of the coins, slipped it into his pocket, and returned the rest.
"They're just cheap little gadgets. Keep your kindness, sir. I'm not struggling to survive."
"But—"
"No buts, sir."
Jayce pressed his lips together. There was not much else he could say.
Instead, he raised the device he had been holding the whole time.
"I just want you to know this: you may be underestimating your own talent. I've never seen anyone arrive at the same ideas as me so naturally..."
"You're pretty confident, huh?"
Van recognized the device at once. He had made it himself while trying to study the crystal pendant around his neck.
Whether the problem had been the method or the materials, it had never produced the results he wanted, so he had written it off as a failure.
"If you change your mind, come find me at Piltover Academy."
With that, Jayce gave Benzo a polite nod, pushed open the door, and left the shop carrying his pile of purchases.
Van simply watched him go.
"This was a good chance, and you know it..."
Benzo still sounded unwilling to let it go.
"You talk too much, Benzo. I've told you plenty of times already. I'm not leaving the Lanes."
"But you shouldn't be buried here—"
Before Benzo could finish, Van ignored him, pushed open the door, and walked out.
Benzo could only let out a frustrated sigh and go back to tidying his shop.
"Where are you headed, little man?"
The moment Van stepped outside, he spotted Benzo's adopted son, Ekko, lingering around the alley like he was up to something.
"Oh! I... uh... I was just... playing..."
Ekko jumped when he heard Van's voice, guilty as all hell.
"You know where Vi is?"
"No... I don't."
"Alright."
Van thought Ekko was acting strange, but he was not in the mood to press him. He only threw out a casual reminder or two, then turned and left with a lot on his mind.
[End of chapter]