The plan had already begun the moment Baston and Luke stepped through the gates.
Paradise Resort spread before them like an illusion that was carved out of luxury and fantasy. From the outside, the complex resembled nothing more than another extravagant estate inside Luminos City. But once the gates closed behind them, the scenery changed entirely.
The white sand stretched across the ground like a miniature tropical beach. Tall palm trees swayed gently even though there was no wind strong enough to move them. The waves rolled toward an artificial shoreline in perfect rhythm, breaking softly against the sand with a sound so natural that anyone might forget they were still deep within the city walls.
It could only be done by magic. Only such thing that could create miracle in this place.
The resort designers had recreated the sensation of standing on a distant island that was far away from civilization. The air carried the faint scent of salt and tropical flowers. The warm lanterns hung between the trees, casting golden light that made the sand shimmer softly beneath people's feet.
The guests laughed, drank, and wandered freely as though they had escaped the burdens of reality.
Anyone wealthy enough to enter Luminos City could visit Paradise Resort. Of course, the entry required a ticket fee.
Baston didn't know how much it cost, but judging from the elegance of the place, he suspected the price would make his heart ache if he ever heard the number.
In the end, he wisely chose not to ask since some truths were better left unknown.
The fat boy quietly walked beside Luke as they approached the entrance hall. The servants dressed in elegant uniforms greeted the guests politely, guiding them into different sections of the resort.
They had only taken a few steps inside when someone approached them.
The man's figure was big and imposing. His face was hidden behind a decorative mask that was designed in the shape of a smiling fox, yet his posture carried a very familiar arrogance.
Even without seeing his face, Baston immediately knew who this man was supposed to be. It was Viktor Anderson or at least, someone who was pretending to be him.
His eyes narrowed slightly. The real Viktor should still be waiting at Carpel Inn.
That was the information that he had personally confirmed through his own careful arrangements which meant the man who was standing before them could only be a substitute.
However, the imitation was quite perfect.
His body shape, the slight tilt of his head, and even the lazy confidence in his voice made everything matched with the man almost flawlessly.
If Baston hadn't known the truth beforehand, he might have believed it himself.
"Well… well…" the masked man said slowly and his tone was dripping with amusement, "What a coincidence... I didn't expect to see my dear nephew here."
Luke's expression stiffened instantly since he knew the tone better than anyone.
"I thought someone like you preferred locking yourself away with your books," the man continued, "Working tirelessly from morning until night."
Luke smiled faintly but Baston could feel the tension behind that smile, "You must be joking, Uncle Viktor… Even the nobles who work hard deserve a little pleasure. Otherwise, what's the point of wealth if we never enjoy it?"
The man chuckled softly, "Yes… The nobles certainly enjoy themselves."
His voice then grew colder, "But your behavior has always been rather different."
His gaze slowly moved across Luke's figure as though he was inspecting something flawed, "Especially considering your background…"
The insult hung in the air. Everyone in the Anderson family knew Luke's position was weak.
His mother came from a lower noble house which meant his standing within the family was never particularly strong.
Luke's fingers twitched slightly.
Baston could almost feel the anger that was rising within his temporary lord. If this had happened somewhere else, Luke might have already drawn his sword.
Unfortunately for him, Paradise Resort was not a place for open conflict and Viktor knew that very well.
As if sensing Luke's restraint, another man stepped forward which was a servant from the uncle. His expression carried the arrogance of someone who believed he had powerful protection behind him.
"Young Master Luke," the servant said with a slight bow that contained no respect, "Please be careful with your gesture when addressing my lord."
He lifted his chin proudly, "As a noble, you should protect your family's reputation."
The implication was clear. Luke was embarrassing the Anderson family simply by standing here. The insult was outrageous.
For a servant to lecture a noble was already unacceptable yet the man spoke with confidence, fully aware of Viktor behind him.
Baston sighed quietly. At first, he had hoped Luke would handle the situation himself but judging by the tightening muscles in the boy's jaw, the young noble was dangerously close to losing control.
It already meant it was his turn to play his role. He soon stepped forward.
"Excuse me," Baston said politely.
The servant frowned, "Who are you?"
"Luke is my lord," Baston answered calmly, "I am merely his servant."
The man's lips curled slightly, "I see…"
He gave Baston a dismissive glance, "Then perhaps, you should remind your lord about the proper manners."
Baston nodded thoughtfully, "Yes… the manners are really important."
He rubbed his chin as if he was considering something carefully, "But I must say, I'm confused."
The servant narrowed his eyes, "Confused about what?"
Baston tilted his head, "My lord was simply greeting his uncle earlier yet you immediately accused him of provocation… That sounds dangerously close to slander."
The servant's expression stiffened, "Slander?"
"Yes…" Baston said innocently, "After all, accusing a noble without a proof can lead to serious punishment."
The servant's confidence faltered slightly. Still, he quickly recovered.
"I misunderstood the situation," he said coldly, "My lord is highly respected. Naturally, I became overly cautious."
"I understand," Baston nodded sympathetically, "After all, when someone stands beside a very flourishing lord, it's natural to feel nervous."
The servant blinked, "What are you talking about?"
Baston sighed dramatically, "I know that feeling very well."
He placed a hand on his chest, "Sometimes when I feel shaken, my whole body begins shaking too."
The servant stared at him blankly before his eyes suddenly widened, "You…!"
His face turned red, "Are you calling my lord fat?!"
Baston gasped in shock, "What? Of course not!"
He shook his head violently, "I never said such a thing!"
"You clearly implied it!"
"When?" Baston demanded.
The servant opened his mouth but he hesitated. Clearly, uttering the word once again would only curse his own lord.
Baston crossed his arms, "You're slandering me… I think you're the one who was mocking me."
"Mocking you?"
"Yes…" Baston's shoulders drooped sadly, "I know my body is somewhat bigger than the average."
People nearby had begun watching. He then continued speaking with heartbreaking sincerity.
"Many people call me chubby..." he sniffed, "Some even say my body lacks proportional balance."
A few listeners began giggling and he lowered his head miserably, "I only wish to live like a normal person."
He wiped imaginary tears from his eyes, "I try my best to make girls notice me, but every time I hold their hand, they immediately find many excuses to let go."
The laughter erupted nearby and Baston continued his tragic monologue, "If I didn't have a little money in my pocket, everyone would probably avoid me completely."
The servant's face turned darker with every word. Because while he appeared to mock himself, every sentence sounded suspiciously similar to Viktor's appearance.
The more he spoke about his big body, the more uncomfortable Viktor became. The mockery wasn't direct but the implication was impossible to ignore.
Even the surrounding guests had begun whispering and some openly laughed.
Luke finally understood what Baston had been doing. He was insulting himself but by doing so, anyone who resembled him would feel the sting. And unfortunately, Viktor was even fatter than him.
The noble boy nearly burst into laughter and he barely managed to keep his composure.
Finally, a loud indignant voice stopped the farce, "Enough!"
Viktor's voice exploded with anger and he glared at Baston before turning toward Luke, "You should watch your servant's mouth."
Luke smiled brightly, "You don't need to worry. Anything he says is my responsibility."
His smile widened slightly, "Eventually, it's not your problem to begin with..."
Viktor snorted before he turned and walked deeper into the resort without another word. His servant hesitated briefly before following him.
The moment they disappeared into the crowd, Baston's cheerful expression vanished. His eyes sharpened and he felt something was strange. Luke leaned closer to commend what he had done.
"That was impressive…" he whispered.
Baston didn't respond immediately. Instead, he stared at the direction where Viktor had disappeared.
The real one should be waiting at Carpel Inn yet the man just now had perfectly mimicked his behavior. Not only Luke but nearly everyone present believed that man was Viktor Anderson.
That level of imitation wasn't simple acting. Every gesture had been flawless, too flawless that he wondered whether the one at Carpel Inn was instead the fake one.
For a brief moment, he felt a faint chill was creeping along his spine.
If the man that he had just seen was truly a fake, then the impersonator possessed a frightening level of skill. It was not merely the posture or the tone of voice. Even the subtle habits that Viktor had displayed in the past encounters seemed to be perfectly replicated.
The slight pause before speaking, the way his fingers tapped lightly against his sleeve, and even the rhythm of his breathing when he laughed. Those were the details most people would never notice but he did.
Because he himself had spent many times of hiding behind other identities. He understood how difficult it was to imitate another person completely. Even the smallest mistake could expose the disguise.
Yet, that man had shown none. The man did not show a single hesitation and not a single misplaced movement. It was almost as if the person that was wearing Viktor's identity had lived as Viktor for many years.
Baston's gaze drifted toward the crowd where the masked figure had disappeared. A troubling thought slowly surfaced inside his mind.
What if the fake one was not here?
What if the man that was waiting at Carpel Inn was the impostor instead?
If that were the case, then someone had constructed a far more complicated deception than he had originally imagined. And worse, it meant he might already be standing in the middle of someone else's carefully prepared trap.
He initially suspected magic puppetry or something similar to his own ability but he quickly dismissed the idea.
The magic puppets other than him always left traces. Even his own creations weren't perfect. But, that man had moved like a real human which meant only two possibilities remained.
Either Viktor possessed an extremely skilled double or something far stranger was happening.
He quietly memorized the man's movements. Something about the fat man still bothered him and he simply hadn't discovered what yet.
"Come…" Luke said, "There's more to see..."
Paradise Resort contained countless entertainments but two venues were considered the most famous.
The first was the casino.
As Baston followed Luke through its grand doors, the sound of cheers and curses immediately filled the air. The tables covered the hall like a battlefield of the fortune.
The gold coins clinked constantly as many players gambled their wealth away.
Baston had seen the gambling before and he understood the trick. The casinos were never designed to lose money.
At first, they allowed the players to win just enough to build their confidence. But once people believed the victory was possible, the trap closed. Sooner or later, the house always won.
Around them, the gamblers muttered in frustration.
"Damn it! I was so close!"
"Just one more round!"
"I swear this is the last time!"
"My luck will change tomorrow!"
"I'll sell my heirloom if I have to!"
Baston watched silently. Most players had already lost more than they could afford yet none of them could stop.
The greed blinded them. Even knowing the danger, they still believed the next bet might change everything.
He didn't pity them. Anyone that was wealthy enough to enter Luminos City was already privileged. Losing money here was simply the price of their own foolishness.
Luke glanced around casually, "The casino is only for the amateurs."
Baston raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"
Luke smirked, "The real game happens somewhere else."
He pointed toward another massive building at the far end of the resort, "It's the coliseum…"
Baston nodded slowly since that remark made sense.
In the casino, the gamblers played with money. Meanwhile in the coliseum, the gamblers played with money and lives.
"And that's where you'll deal with your uncle?" Baston asked.
Luke's expression darkened, "Yes..."
His voice carried no hesitation, "Either he dies or I die…"
There was no room for reconciliation anymore. Too many things had already happened and too many lines had been crossed.
Baston accepted the answer calmly, "Good..."
He slipped a folded piece of paper into Luke's hand, "Kindness toward enemies only creates future threats."
Luke frowned slightly before opening the note. His eyes quickly widened as he read the message.
"The real Viktor should be at Carpel Inn and the one in Paradise Resort is fake…"
Luke slowly lifted his head and his gaze searched the crowd, "What exactly is going on here…?"
Baston didn't answer immediately because the truth was he didn't know yet either.
However, one thing was certain.
Paradise Resort was full of masks tonight.
And somewhere inside this paradise, someone was carefully moving the pieces of a far bigger game.