Unlike the cheap booze he was used to, the wine tasted bitter, and even after drinking ten glasses, he still wasn’t drunk. The butler brought him some more wine, and he kept drinking.

“Sir is everything alright?” the butler asked.

“Does everything look alright to you?” Arthur snapped back. He wasn’t drunk yet either.

The butler didn’t know what to do anymore, as he stood there looking confused.

“Some more wine!” Arthur called.

The butler looked even more hesitant. “Sir, we’ve run out … perhaps I can go and look for some wine in the town?”

Now Arthur was annoyed. He still wasn’t drunk, and he didn’t even remember how many glasses of this “wine” he had. It tasted different from the red wine he was used to, or the booze. Even when he was a billionaire, he used to drink cheap booze, not because he didn’t like the expensive one. It was mostly because the place that sold the best booze in town … was owned by an investor, and one of the terms of the investment was that he would come and drink cheap booze at the bar every time he wanted a drink.

Also, the person was his mentor.

“Wait, I’m coming with you”, Arthur spoke. He whispered to himself, “I need to see where the fuck I am, to make sense of all this.”

“I didn’t quite catch the last part sir.”

“Don’t worry about it”, Arthur spoke, as he went towards the stairs.

****

Sebastian frowned as the young lord went up the staircase. He was behaving strangely, and to Sebastian, even that was an understatement. It started with the temper tantrum, and then the destruction of the cups, before he started asking strange questions.

Maybe he had lost his memory? That would explain why he was asking so many questions. But what about the strange words? What did the word ‘fuck’ even mean?

As Sebastian was wondering what was wrong with the young lord, the devil himself came back from his room, having changed into what looked like humble clothing.

“Any idea where I can get a tailor, or a shop that sells clothes?” the young lord asked.

“Well … indeed sir. Might I ask what kind of clothes you want sir?” Sebastian asked.

“I need to look for hoodies. And some t-shirts and jeans too.”

Sebastian was even more confused. “Some … what sir?”

“You’ve never heard of a hoodie before?”

“No, sir, I have not.”

The young lord looked surprised, before his face gradually transformed into what looked like a frown.

“How much money do we have?” he asked.

“What do you mean sir?” Sebastian looked confused.

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“You’re answering my question with another question. How much cash do we have?”

“About four gold coins sir”, Sebastian replied. Why did the young lord want to know about the financial affairs?

“Gold coins?”

“Yes sir. Four gold coins, and twenty silver coins.”

“Eh … how much is that in dollars?”

“In what sir?” Sebastian was getting more and more confused.

“Fuck! I always forget, don’t mind me, let’s just get moving. Do we need guards?”

“Guards, sir?”

“Yes, guards! No need to repeat everything I say.”

“We don’t need any, sir.”

“Good, lead the way!”

****

The town wasn’t what Arthur thought it’d be. It was worse. So much worse that, Arthur could’ve sworn the person who developed the town was deliberately trying to sabotage its appeal.

To be precise, it was too underdeveloped … according to what he was used to. When he thought small town, he thought about nice, paved roads, a few diners here and there, some shops which sold clothes etc.

Here? One could literally step in shit on the road. Well, it was horse shit, but who cared? Shit was shit! There were no cars, only horse drawn carriages, and even the one he rode was bumpy as fuck. What happened to springs, shock absorbers and the whole suspension system?

Arthur lamented his fate. He realized he had it too easy back when he was Grant Halloway, billionaire, playboy, and could-have-been rocket scientist. An idea of developing the town surfaced at the back of his mind, but like all things that required thinking, they stayed there, never to see the light.

“We’ve arrived at the tailor, sir”, a voice derailed his train of thought. It was a good thing too, because the train was going nowhere in particular.

Arthur went out of the carriage, and if he was high, he would’ve marvelled at the building in front of him. It was quite horrible … no, that was an understatement. It was a dingy, one-story building, which seemed plastered, but not painted.

“Are you sure there’s a tailor here?” he asked, looking around. There were a few people walking around. Some of them stopped and stared, which he thought was rude. Right, they were also whispering something to each other, while looking at him.

“Yes, sir. He’s the person who has been making all your clothes”, the butler replied.

Even up to now, Arthur didn’t know the guy’s name. He made a mental note to ask. As for the tailor, Arthur thought whoever it was, had a terrible fashion sense. The kind of clothes he found in the wardrobe … let’s just say that they were not clothes he could walk down the street in … with a straight face.

They opened the door and went inside. There were clothes on hangers, and dolls. The clothes were mostly women’s dresses, rich people-looking suits, and some type of pants that looked too tight.

Arthur walked around, looking for jeans, and to his dismay, he found none. Forget jeans, there were no hoodies, or t-shirts, or even sneakers …

“Excuse me sir, what kind of clothes do you want to buy?” the butler asked, as he followed Arthur.

“So, there are no hoodies? I could’ve tolerated it if they had t-shirts and jeans, but what the fuck am I supposed to wear??” Arthur swore, not caring whether the butler understood what he was saying or not.

“Sir, I don’t think they have what you’re looking for. But if you could desc--”

“Good morning, young lord Lovewood. I trust all is well. Are you here to finish the other business?” a smartly dressed servant interrupted the butler.

Arthur didn’t know what to say. What was the other business? Did it involve clothes, or was it something else? Arthur shuddered at the thought. Maybe it was better he didn’t know.

“Well no. I’m here simply because I need some clothes”, Arthur replied, with what counted as a smile.

The servant frowned, before replacing the frown with a creepy smile. “Right this way sir. What manner of clothes are you looking for?”

“From what I’m looking at, you don’t have the clothes I’m looking for”, Arthur replied, heading for the door.

The servant hurriedly ran after him. “Sir, I’m sure we can make the clothes you’re looking for if we know what they are.”

“Really? And how much more money would I have to pay for those?” Arthur pretended to consider it. It was a very effective negotiation technique when he used it back then.

“We can discuss this inside, sir”, the servant held his hands, ushering him towards the back room.

Arthur pretended to hesitate for a bit. He turned to look at the butler, who nodded.

“Fine then. Lead the way”, he finally consented.

The butler remained behind, as the servant led Arthur towards the back room. It seemed as if some grand deal was about to happen … or maybe someone was about to get swindled. Find out, on the next episode of, HOW TO SWINDLE A BILLION GOLD COINS.