"Squeak-bang."
The brown-red painted car door was gently closed from the outside by the sycophantic caravan captain.
The soundproofing was quite good.
The shouts, calls, and even curses that had filled the ears were abruptly reduced with the closing of the door.
For a moment, only the long, slow breathing and the subtle sound of the silver coin rubbing against the palm's flesh echoed within the carriage.
It seemed carefully chosen; the silver coin was full in color, with no dirt between its surface textures, and hardly any signs of wear.
Being tossed up and down in the palm, it appeared to have nothing special about it.
But if you stared unblinkingly at that seemingly ordinary coin, you would notice.
Its speed and trajectory in the rise and fall seemed to deviate from the expected pattern.
With articulated long fingers, the silver coin slightly wobbled at the end of the index finger, the thumb beneath suddenly exerting force.
Whizz—
