CH-24: Sleight Of Hands

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Inside the strangely luminous Study, illuminated solely by the grand chandelier. I settled into a comfortable position.

The nap had managed to revive me from the exhaustion of the morning training regimen.

Although still fatigued, I knew that Fox had a meticulous routine in place.

He focused on training my body in the first half of the day and my mind in the latter.

In the short time I had known him, it was clear that he despised idleness and wasted time.

He always kept me engaged, be it through reading historical books or learning new skills.

"Today, we shall begin at the bottom rung of the ladder in the world of thieves." Fox announced with a sly smirk, his fingers gracefully dancing in the air. "The pickpocket."

"Alright." I leaned forward eagerly, folding my hands on the desk.

"A pickpocket must possess two fundamental skills all thieves require." Fox began, gesturing dramatically with his finger. "Sleight of hand and the art of distraction."

I listened intently, my eyes fixed on him as he paced around the Study, enlightening me about the intricacies of the pickpocket profession.

"These skills are essential for any aspiring thief to master, lest they find themselves behind bars or in even graver circumstances." He emphasized his words.

"First, we have the distraction. While the sleight of hand remains relatively consistent, the art of distraction varies with each situation." He explained, retrieving a deck of cards from his jacket pocket and deftly shuffling them.

"Observe." He presented a queen of spades momentarily before returning it to the deck and shuffling again.

"Distraction is a form of deception, and deception is the most potent weapon in a thief's arsenal."

He spread the deck out on the desk, the cards overlapping one another.

"Choose one." Fox directed his gaze towards the array of cards.

I sighed, allowing my eyes to scan the deck in search of a card that felt right, even though there seemed to be no correct or incorrect choice.

Eventually, I selected a random card and sneaked a peek.

It was the 9 of clubs.

"Remember that card." He instructed, flashing a grin before stepping back to a certain distance. "Now, I'm going to steal that very card from your grasp."

"Really?" I scoffed, clutching the card tightly.

"I most certainly will." He winked, returning to the desk in front of me.

He placed the cards on the desk and resumed speaking.

"Deception begins with lies." He stated matter-of-factly.

"V, everyone lies. No matter how insignificant, every person harbors a goal they wish to achieve and resorts to lies to attain it." He sighed, shaking his head.

"As I mentioned before, deception is a weapon, a blade forged of sharp lies. However, it is the wielder who determines the potency of this weapon, whether it be a soldier's brass or a god's orichalcum."

"Stand up." He instructed, and I complied without questioning his request.

"Now, I'm gonna approach you and steal the card." He declared, making a bold claim that raised my eyebrows.

As I saw him drawing closer, I instinctively extended my hand away from his general direction, my body tense with the card firmly held in my grip.

He stopped just a foot away from me, and I attentively followed his hands as they landed gently on my shoulder in a subtle press.

"Edward, you are overly focused on my hands and your own, but you've missed something." The old man whispered in my ear, leaning in close.

He immediately stepped back and began to walk away, only to halt abruptly in his original spot.

"As I mentioned, I have stolen the card." He declared, and I blinked in confusion, still clutching the card in my hand.

"It's right here." I pointed to it.

"Is it, really?" He cheekily smirked, causing me to look at the card in my hand. My eyes widened.

"What the... How?"

The Queen of Spades now rested in my palm.

"Sleight of hand with a dash of distraction." He grinned, producing the Nine of Clubs from his sleeve.

"When did you even take it?!"

"The moment you removed the card from the deck." He explained. "You were so focused on preventing me from tricking you that you never considered the possibility of having already been tricked."

"All humans possess a sense of pride, believing they cannot be deceived, and we simply exploit that." He continued.

I nodded, absorbing his words. He was right, I had failed to consider that I might have already been deceived because I was solely concentrating on safeguarding the card in my possession.

Arrogance had clouded my judgment.

"What I've just shown you was merely a card trick, but once you master these two skills and learn to combine and wield them with flawless control, you will surpass most thieves out there."

The room fell into a momentary silence as his words sank in before I broke it.

"So, where do I begin?" I asked eagerly.

"On live targets, of course." He replied, a mischievous smile gracing his face, indicating trouble ahead.

"I don't like that smile." I grumbled.

He widened his smile and shrugged.

"Not a problem, because I don't care."

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Over the next two months, my routine remained consistent.

I would wake up, engage in the morning workout, and then accompany Fox to the bustling tourist hotspots of Paris.

My task was to skillfully snatch purses or valuable items within a two-hour time frame, after which I would return to the mansion and endure another round of rigorous training.

Pickpocketing turned out to be far more challenging than I had initially anticipated.

It required selecting the right target, which was harder than it sounded. They had to possess some wealth but shouldn't stand out conspicuously from the crowd.

I also had to ensure they were suitably distracted before attempting to swiftly pilfer items from their bags or pockets.

Timing was crucial; a miscalculation meant I would find myself racing through a crowd, trying to evade capture.

I refrained from using my powers, as my goal was to learn the skills and not rely on cheating.

Once I had successfully maintained a one-week streak of flawless pickpocketing, Fox decided it was time to introduce me to martial arts.

'People won't always be nice when we steal their stuff.' He stated matter-of-factly.

The first martial art that Fox had decided to train me was Savate or better known as the French Kickboxing.

From what I had learned, this type of martial art mainly focuses on the movement of the legs and gives priority to connect fast and efficient kicks against the opponents and also serves as an aid to control the balance which was certainly a huge help in the fights.

"Concentrate!" Fox yelled strictly.

I snapped out of my thoughts as I had to raise my hand in order to block a kick that was coming straight to my face. Once blocked I hit back hard but almost fell off the pillars.

"Your reaction is too slow, you need to stop thinking, your reaction must be like a second nature, you need to predict my movement to counter them, otherwise you will be an open book to your opponents!" He exclaimed without stopping attacking him.

Soon I changed my stance, this time I was using Boxing, which gave me good stability over these tall pillars and allowed me to dodge his attacks while letting myself prepare for a counter strike.

Fox gave me an evaluative look before starting a series of quick attacks.

I simply dodged them while waiting for the opportunity to counter. When I saw it, I attacked without any hesitation with a series of quick strikes and finally gave a surprise hook with the aim of destabilizing Fox to make him fall.

Before I could celebrate I felt how my stomach had taken a hit and practically felt all the air being expelled out of my body before I lost my balance and fell to the ground.

"Arghh!" I growled at the pain from the blow and the frustration.

"Hahaha!" I heard Fox's laughter shortly after, as he descended from the pillar and extended a hand to help me up.

I swatted his hand away and sat in silence, contemplating the fight and trying to pinpoint where I went wrong.

Fox sighed, placing his hands on his hips and looking at me with a smile. He knelt down and sat next to me, his gaze fixed on the setting sun in the distance.

"You almost had me with that last hook." He said in a reassuring tone.

"You don't need to lie to make me feel better." I responded.

"I don't, I wouldn't get anything from it." He answered.

"It was a genuine compliment. I once had a student, a friend, who came close to hitting me as you did, but even he took six months to achieve that." He explained, without delving into further details.

"Edward, you have a natural talent for fighting, but you're holding yourself back. Why?" He asked.

I didn't immediately answer. We sat quietly in the garden, bathed in the final rays of the sun.

"I'm afraid." I finally admitted, causing him to raise an eyebrow in surprise. He didn't push me further and allowed me time to open up.

"I'm afraid that if I let go, I would kill you." I added with a sad smile. "Every time I throw a punch, the memories of everyone I've killed flashes through my mind. I can't help it."

He remained silent, turning his gaze back toward the setting sun as we both embraced the silence.

"Maybe it's time you let go." He advised, which widened my eyes in shock.

"What?!" I barked incredulously. "What part of 'I could kill you' didn't you understand?"

"You're struggling to accept your power. It is a part of you, and you need to embrace it, to understand it, and learn to control it. So, let go." He explained.

I blinked, unable to offer a response.

"I don't know if I want to." I muttered, my eyes reflecting the dark clouds looming overhead.

"Give it some thought. You might come around." He chuckled, patting my back.

Sighing, I lay back on the grass and began unwrapping the bandages from my wrists.

"Why are you unwrapping your gloves?" He asked.

"..."

I paused as I heard his voice.

"Get your ass back up on that pillar."

"Sir, yes, sir!" I exclaimed, standing up and beginning to climb the wooden pillar.

His words echoed in my mind as I reached the top.

'Not yet. I'm not ready to let go.'