Old days, dice and investigator's manual

The shop owner noticed the look in his eyes and paused for a moment: "...Sir, what's wrong?"

Isaac immediately composed himself and shook his head: "It's nothing."

As he spoke, he glanced in Carlo's direction.

Carlo was standing at the door watching when he saw Isaac looking over, and he gave Isaac a look that said, "You're quite the actor."

The shop owner followed Isaac's gaze and looked at Carlo. He naturally couldn't discern the meaning behind "you're quite the actor." In his eyes, Carlo had a different kind of expression... "it's hard to describe, but something definitely seems off."

The shop owner glanced back and forth between the two men, his brow furrowing slightly. "Sir, what's wrong?"

"It's nothing, I just thought about some things," Isaac said.

The more he said this, the more uneasy the shopkeeper became, and his tone became even more cautious: "Sir, what you're saying... if you don't mind, could you please tell me?"

"It's really nothing, just some personal speculation, and I'm afraid it might offend you if I say it."

Hearing Isaac's words, the shop owner became even more uneasy. He put down his notebook, placed his hands on the edge of the counter, and said in a more serious tone than before, "Sir, you've only said half of what you wanted to say. If I don't listen to the rest, I'm afraid I won't be able to sleep tonight."

Isaac paused for a few seconds, as if carefully considering his words, before speaking: "To be honest, I am actually... a private investigator."

"Tsk." Carlo clicked his tongue.

Although the original intention was "You're using my words, aren't you?", the shop owner heard it more like "How could you say that out loud?"

Isaac remained expressionless and said, "I'm sure you can understand the reasons behind my requirements for clothing. It needs to be presentable, practical, and easy to move in. This is determined by the nature of my job."

The shop owner looked Isaac up and down, recalling Isaac's description of the clothes, and seemed to understand something.

Seeing that he accepted this explanation, Isaac continued, "However, the business I handle is different from that of ordinary private investigators. I don't deal with things like marital infidelity or corporate espionage; I deal with much more dangerous matters."

The shop owner's throat bobbed: "...More dangerous?"

"After all, not every matter is suitable for the FBI to take over."

The shop owner's breath hitched. Isaac lowered his voice slightly, "Some things are more troublesome to report. It's better to have someone investigate privately first, and then decide how to handle it once we have some leads..."

At this point, Isaac stopped and sighed, "I accidentally said too much. In our line of work, there's a rule: if you want to live a long life, don't ask about things you shouldn't. My reaction just now broke that rule, and I'm afraid my boss will scold me when I get back."

As he spoke, his gaze drifted towards Carlo again, and the shop owner followed his gaze.

Carlo didn't play along, even throwing back a raised eyebrow that seemed to say, "What are you looking at?" But given Isaac's earlier foreshadowing, the shopkeeper interpreted it as something else entirely:

These two have already noticed the problem, but they don't want to get involved.

The shop owner paused for a moment, then made up his mind: "Sir, could you please...?"

Isaac hesitated. "Mr. Harper, this is against the rules."

"I know, I know," the shop owner nodded. "But since you've noticed some clues, you must be quite capable. I'll pay a commission fee, as a token of my appreciation for your help in investigating this matter. As for this garment, consider it an extra token of my appreciation; it's free."

After some deliberation, Isaac finally relented: "Since you put it that way... I can listen to the situation first, but I can't guarantee I can help. If things are beyond my capabilities, I will tell you the truth, and you can find someone else. I will also pay for the clothes at the original price."

The shop owner breathed a sigh of relief when he heard that the man hadn't given a definitive answer or made any absolute guarantees: "No problem."

He walked around the counter to the store entrance, flipped the "Open for Business" sign on the door, walked back to the inside of the counter, and lowered his voice to say, "This matter is not too complicated... About half a month ago, a customer came to the store and bought a set of ready-made clothes."

"The man looked ordinary, but his manners were quite proper, and he spoke politely. He picked out a black suit, paid for it, and left."

Two days later, he came back. He said the clothes didn't fit and he wanted to return them. Ready-made clothes are different from custom-made ones; it's not uncommon for people to buy clothes, find out the size is wrong, and return them for exchange. This is not unusual.

"But when I took the clothes and was about to check for any damage or stains, I smelled a foul odor."

"What kind of stench is it?"

"It's hard to describe, it's different from the smell I usually get." The shop owner's wrinkles deepened. "I was complaining to myself at the time, how could I do business with clothes that were so dirty when they were returned? But when I looked through the garment, the fabric was clean and there were no stains at all."

"That smell wasn't just transferred on?"

"It doesn't seem like it." The shop owner shook his head. "I brought the clothes closer and smelled them. The stench was faint, but it was very unpleasant."

"I felt something was wrong, so I put the garment aside and told the person that I could return it, but it had an odor and I needed to check it first before I could get a refund. I asked him to come back another day. The person didn't say anything more and just left."

"After he left, I checked the clothes over and over again. Apart from the stench, there were no stains, no tears, and the fabric was not deformed. It felt like it hadn't been worn much... But the smell made me very uneasy, so I hung the clothes backstage to see if they would fall apart."

"I thought the smell would dissipate after airing it out overnight, but when I went backstage to get something the next morning, the stench was even stronger than the day before."

"I thought I couldn't return the clothes; I had to make things clear with that person. But when the appointed day arrived, he didn't show up. I waited another day, but he still didn't come. He didn't want either the clothes or the money; he just disappeared."

"The smell was getting stronger and stronger, spreading from the backstage to the store. I knew this couldn't go on, so I poured kerosene on the garment and set it on fire."

"The smell was even stronger when it was burning, and it almost made me throw up. After it was finished burning, I shoveled away the ashes and rinsed the ground with water several times before it finally calmed down."

"The store smelled really bad that day, and I thought there wouldn't be much business. But a customer came in in the afternoon. I was tidying up the shelves when he came in, so I apologized to him and said that the store had a bit of an odor recently and asked him to bear with it."

"The gentleman glanced at me and said... he didn't smell anything strange."