The vendor asked curiously, "What's the matter? Do you have a way to strike it rich?"
Barton replied, "No real method, just a windfall. If you can help me find someone, I can give you a portion—fifteen percent."
"Oh?" The vendor's interest was piqued. "Let's hear it."
Barton said, "My mentor once took on an apprentice—a junior of mine. A few years ago, he was killed."
The vendor smirked sarcastically. "I didn't expect someone like you to talk about feelings. Did I hear you right?"
Barton shot back with equal sarcasm, "Feelings? Have you forgotten who I am, you idiot?"
After a pause, he explained, "Before that kid died, I bought him a revenge mark. The plan was to profit after his death. I waited for ages, and he finally died. But the meat chicken that killed him has been elusive ever since."
As he spoke, Barton's expression twisted into something grotesque. "Of all places to die, that fool had to die in the Dark Forest. Damn it, utterly damn!"
