A secret operation? Jones smirked. Nothing happened in Celadon Town without his knowledge.

"Charlotte Carter's raised money and bought supplies. Lewis and Wilson from Harrison's studio are suddenly 'on vacation,'" his assistant reported.


"Really?" Jones's eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "The girl actually plans to fire the kiln? And Harrison… that old fox is playing both sides?"

He drummed his fingers on his mahogany desk.

"Find Master Louis," he ordered, lips curling coldly. "Doesn't he miss his old job? Tell him I need a favor… I'll make it worth his while. Very worth his while."


Days later, Charlotte's glazes were ready, stored in large ceramic vats under damp cloths.

In the dead of night, a shadow crept into the yard. Lewis? Wilson? No—Master Louis, Jones's new agent! He glanced around nervously, lifted a damp cloth from a glaze vat, and quickly emptied a packet of white powder inside. Stirred it. Covered it. Vanished.


He moved like a phantom.