Professor Hein's fingers hovered above the unassuming box he'd chosen, lips pursed in academic determination.
With the silence of a man entirely absorbed in thought, he slowly opened it.
A dull clink.
From within emerged a small, lifeless trinket—barely more than a button. L
The kind of thing a street magician might toss to children as a party favor. Hein stared at it for a moment, expression unreadable.
The crowd held its breath.
Then came the inevitable wave of mutters, snickers, and a few poorly concealed bursts of laughter.
Nolan leaned against a fruit cart and raised an eyebrow. "Well. That's what he gets for trusting intuition over common sense." and then, he would sip his ordered tea.
Hein calmly returned the box to the table and selected another. "Again."
The seller, perhaps out of morbid curiosity, shrugged and gestured for him to continue.
Another box.
Another failure.
