Inside a private room in a Mud Town restaurant, Ren and his crew were feasting. Fizz was glued to Twisted Fate's side, pestering him about different ways to play poker. They had all introduced themselves on the ship, so everyone knew the little fish-man's name.
From the room next door, the muffled sounds of an argument bled through the walls. "But… you promised…" "That was before…"
Bang! Bang! Bang! Graves slammed his fist against the wall. "What the fuck is wrong with you assholes?! If you're gonna fight, take it home! Bother me again and I'll blow your goddamn heads off!"
The other room fell silent. Twisted Fate seized the moment. "Hey, boss, the little guy's out of chips. Look at that adorable face. How about you sponsor him a little more, hm?"
Ignoring the gambler, Ren turned his attention to Fizz, starting his charm offensive. "Fizz, we're good friends, right?"
"Of course! Ren, TF, Graves—you're my best friends!"
"What kind of shitty nickname is that," Graves grumbled from the side. Twisted Fate leaned in with a smirk. "It's descriptive, isn't it? Just hearing it, everyone knows you're a man who loves his gun. Haha."
"Fuck you," Graves snarled, grabbing Twisted Fate by the neck and shoving him against the wall.
Fizz jumped up, ready to join the fray, but Ren gently pulled him back and continued his pitch.
"You've been hanging around the Blue Flame Isles for years. Aren't you tired of it? Have you ever thought about a change of scenery?"
"Not really. What's the difference where I live?"
"How can you say that? Can you hang out with friends like us every day in the sea?" Ren's voice was smooth and persuasive. "Would you rather be all alone in the ocean, or would you rather be with your friends every single day?"
Before Fizz could even process it, Ren pressed his advantage, not giving the yordle a moment to think.
"I'd miss you, too. If you go back, I don't know how many years it would be until I saw you again. The ocean is vast. If I wanted to find you, I wouldn't even know where to start looking."
"I could give you a—"
Ren cut him off, his words quickening into a seamless, irresistible stream. "I have an idea. Why don't you come with us? That way, we can all stay together."
"The place I live is beautiful. The air is fresh… it's a great place to live." [The people of Zaun would like a word.] "And you can make even more human friends. I have a lot of friends there, and my friends will be your friends."
The repeated word, 'friends,' was the final blow. It struck a chord deep within Fizz, and just like that, Ren had secured himself another hero for his cause.
Suddenly, the argument next door flared up again. "My hard work… Hextech…" "This is the end… Goodbye."
"That's it!" Graves grabbed an empty wine bottle, ready to storm the room next door. Ren intercepted him, smoothly taking the bottle and placing it back on the table.
"Don't be rash," Ren said calmly. "I'll go with you. Bring your gun."
Graves's stream of curses died in his throat. He looked surprised. "You think we'll need it?"
"You two just hang out here. We'll be right back," Ren said, motioning for Twisted Fate to sit back down. He then led Graves to the adjacent room.
He pushed the door open to find a lone, pudgy young man sitting in the middle of the room. He had a kind face, but it was clouded with despair.
Ren and Graves shared a look. Graves gave a subtle, reassuring nod and stood guard outside the door, gun held loosely at his side.
"Hello," Ren said, stepping inside. "My name is Ren, a merchant from Ionia. I couldn't help but overhear the argument. Is there anything I can do to help?"
The young man scrambled to his feet. "Oh! H-hello. I'm Pete, a merchant from Piltover." He flushed with embarrassment. "My deepest apologies. I was just fighting with my cousin. I'm sorry for disturbing you."
Perhaps it was the recent growth in his magical abilities that had boosted Ren's natural charisma. Or perhaps it was because Pete, heartbroken and wronged after a fight with family, was desperate for someone to talk to.
Whatever the reason, the two of them ended up sitting down, drinking and talking together.
Ren learned that Pete was in the business of magical crystals—specifically, raw, unprocessed Hex-crystals, the very same kind Jinx had found in Jayce's lab in the first episode of Arcane¹.
With the successful development of the Hex-gates by Jayce's workshop, Hextech had become the hottest commodity in Piltover. The technology and patents were tightly controlled by researchers like Jayce and Viktor, as well as the great houses and Council members who backed them.
While most couldn't get a taste of the main course, there were still ways to get a sip of the soup. Supplying the Hex-crystals, for instance.
Many families and influential factions had ways of acquiring the magical crystals. But getting them wasn't the hard part; selling them was. You needed connections. You needed the right network.
The lion's share of the crystal supply for the Hextech workshops belonged to Clans Medarda and Kiramman, with most of the remainder divided among the other Council members.
Pete had only managed to get his foot in the door and secure a meager share because of his cousin. His cousin was a Ferros, one of Piltover's great houses.
Everything had been going smoothly. Pete had already successfully delivered two shipments of crystals. But then, someone arrived to steal the fruits of his labor—and that someone was his own cousin.
As Pete told Ren all of this, he bitterly cursed his cousin, the Ferros family, and even the Council members. Ren had to cut him off gently before he spiraled completely.
Ren put a comforting arm around his shoulder.
"Fate brought us together today. I think I can help you," Ren said. Seeing the doubt in the young man's eyes, he continued, "Do you still have access to your source for the crystals? If you can still get your hands on them, I can buy them off you."
Pete's expression shifted. "Do you have powerful connections? No, wait… the fact that my cousin came to take over my business proves that the great houses won't let these shares go to outsiders." He shook his head. "Even if your connections are strong, it won't matter if you aren't part of one of their families."
Ren's expression turned serious. "Whether I have connections, who I know, and how I plan to profit from these crystals—that's my business," he stated firmly. "Your business is deciding whether or not you want to pick up the lifeline you just lost."
Pete considered this, his own face growing just as serious. "Getting the crystals isn't the problem. Customs is the real issue. If I try to bring crystals into the city without an official share, it'll raise suspicion. If they start investigating…"
"Don't worry about that," Ren said smoothly. "I have a mage with me. He knows teleportation magic. As long as we coordinate and make a solid plan, customs won't be an issue."
"Deal."
"Pleasure doing business with you," Ren said, shaking Pete's hand with a smile. "By the way, do you happen to have any crystals on you right now? If you do, we can make our first transaction."
A grin spread across Pete's face. "Of course. That useless cousin of mine doesn't pay any attention to the actual work. He has no idea that production has increased." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I have seven on me right now."
"I'll take them all."
Piltover, the City of Progress.
The city was buzzing with excitement. Fleets of airships were gathered near the Hex-gates. One particular airship, bearing the portrait of a handsome young man on its side, circled the city.
"Is today some kind of holiday?"
"You idiot, didn't you hear? It's Progress Day!"
"Fuck you, I just like to ask questions, alright? You got a problem with that?"
As the two men started brawling, Ren pretended not to notice and steered Fizz further away.
"Excuse me, sir," an Enforcer said, walking toward them. "Is this… your pet?"
Ren shifted his body, placing himself between Fizz and the officer. "This is my friend, Fizz." He met the Enforcer's gaze coolly. "And for future reference, respected Enforcer, you might want to watch your words. Fizz is a yordle, same as Professor Heimerdinger."
The Enforcer's face went pale. He stammered out an apology before quickly striding away.
"Ren, there are other yordles here?" Fizz asked, his eyes wide. "That Heim-ding-dong guy?"
"That's right. When we have time, I'll take you to meet him."
"Awesome!"
Translator's Note:
The original text makes a direct meta-reference to "the first episode of Arcane," which I've kept to preserve the author's narrative style. The exchange between Graves and Twisted Fate about Graves's nickname ("男枪," literally "Male Gun") involves a pun. In Chinese, "打手枪" (dǎ shǒuqiāng) means "to fire a handgun" but is also common slang for masturbation. I translated the spirit of the joke ("a man who loves his gun") to capture TF's teasing tone and Graves's explosive reaction, which is very in-character for their dynamic.