Under a persistent rain, mingled with the thin fog, the rows of street lamps tried their hardest to shine through the mist. The occasional horse carriage that proceeded down the streets was a common evening sight in Backlund.
Apart from these, Klein noticed a few gratifying changes while standing behind the window.
Ring!
A crisp sound echoed in the air as a two-wheeled mechanical device rushed down the side of the street to the other end of the street. Its frame was black in color, with some parts revealing grayish-white steel. Under the illumination of the street lamps and rain, it sparkled with the beauty of metal.
On this device sat a man dressed in a postman's uniform. He kept pedaling with his legs, apparently using a great deal of strength. Behind him was a wooden box that had been painted in green.
It's been promoted very well... The white-shirted, black-vested, mature-looking Klein sighed inwardly when he saw this scene.
In a few hours within his return to Backlund, he noticed many similar mechanical devices, and they were none other than the bicycles that he had promoted and invested in!
From the newspapers, Klein knew that the Backlund Bike Company had done tons of advertisements. It even held a bicycle competition in boroughs like Cherwood and Backlund Bridge so as to garner the attention of others. Apart from that, they also actively promoted it to the government departments such as the postal service and the police departments. The results were said to be pretty good.
Their pricing strategy had followed Klein's original suggestion, avoiding the middle-upper class who often used horse carriages. Instead, they aimed their target audience at those with weekly salaries of 1 pound 10 soli and above, such as technical workers, students with a decent family background, and clerical employees that often needed to travel outside. Therefore, a bike worth 3 to 5 pounds was affordable for the people in this demographic if they bit the bullet a little. And at the same time, they could flaunt it to the masses who had incomes that were lower than them.
The current issue is that Backlund often rains. It's difficult to hold an umbrella while riding a bicycle... The next step should be a raincoat. Klein retracted his gaze, shook his head, and chuckled.
The place he stayed at was a high-end hotel in the Hillston Borough. It cost him 10 soli a night, making him feel quite the pinch. However, to match his persona, all he could do was bite the bullet and put up with it.
His idea of Dwayne Dantès was that he was a believer of the Evernight Goddess and a mysterious tycoon that came from Desi Bay. He had sold his original land and mines, planning to seek out brand new opportunities in Backlund. He had a certain level of interest in obtaining an aristocratic title, but he didn't have the abundant wealth to do so. He had to first expand his social circle and begin making some investments.
The benefits of this identity was that it was clearly different from the characters Klein had previously acted as. It allowed him to very naturally interact with people from the middle-upper class, especially members of the military officers club and the Backlund diocese bishops of the Church of the Evernight Goddess. It made it convenient for Klein to continue his investigations into the Great Smog of Backlund while gathering intel before he made detailed plans to steal the Antigonus family's notebook.
There were obvious disadvantages as well. Such a mysterious tycoon would definitely catch the notice of the Nighthawks and Mandated Punishers, so there was a certain level of background checks that he would have to undergo.
According to Klein's experience, such an investigation would be done by the official Beyonder organizations under the premise that nothing important had happened. It could also be handed over to the police department, but in summary, not too much effort would be put into it, as it would be considered a routine check.
Therefore, Klein, who was considered quite an expert at disguises, had prepared a second layer to his identity as Dwayne Dantès to his designs, so as to deal with the background inspection.
This second layer to his identity was that Dwayne Dantès was a person who had adventured in the Southern Continent's East and West Balam for some particular reason. He had used a nickname, and he spent more than ten years in that rather dangerous land filled with opportunity in order to amass a great deal of wealth.
Since the origin of his wealth wasn't overboard, he had secretly returned to Desi Bay, and he forged a new identity. He had planned on beginning a new life in Backlund and gradually legalize his wealth.
It wasn't rare to see such people in Loen. Their stories were acceptable and imaginable for an investigation. For this identity layer, Klein had left some inconspicuous clues in Conant City so as to indirectly reveal the "truth."
These clues included but were not limited to the stubs of his scalped tickets from East Balam to Conant City, habits as a result of living in the Southern Continent for extended periods of time, as well as his wealth of unknown origins.
Klein believed that as long as Dwayne Dantès didn't involve himself in any serious Beyonder matters, preparations such as this were enough to fool most routine background inspections.
And if he encountered an extremely dedicated official Beyonder who investigated it all the way and was even willing to seek the help of colleagues from the Southern Continent, then Dwayne Dantès had a third identity layer. It was that he was a cheat who had anti-divination measures to a certain degree. He disguised himself as a mysterious tycoon and spent large amounts of money in investments for this final scam.
This identity was enough to get Dwayne Dantès arrested, but the level of attention placed on him wouldn't be too great. This allowed Klein to exit the stage without much trouble.
Compared to my first time in Backlund, the creation of a three-layered identity shows how I've really matured significantly... Klein slowly walked to the middle of the room as he cast his gaze on a full-body mirror in the corner.
His reflection had black hair and some strands of gray hair. His eyes were deep, but his experiences had left indelible marks on his face. He was a charming middle-aged man with a mature bearing.
The design of Dwayne Dantès's identity wasn't difficult for the present Klein. However, stealing the Antigonus family's notebook from behind Saint Samuel Cathedral's Chanis Gate was practically an impossible task for any external Beyonder. Even a King of Angels couldn't guarantee success.
Of course, unlike other Beyonders, Klein had two advantages. First, he was once a Nighthawk. He had quite a good understanding of the internal procedures they followed, and he knew which matters he could exploit. Therefore, the first solution he eliminated was to become a particular Nighthawk, infiltrate it, and find a chance to pass through Chanis Gate.
There was a problem that existed in this. Nighthawks weren't able to randomly enter Chanis Gate, even for the captains and deacons. Something had to happen first before they received the corresponding authority. Furthermore, Chanis Gate had its Keepers inside. Randomly entering or taking things would result in an attack on him, causing a battle to break out. Klein didn't wish for his theft to result in any deaths or injury to the members of the Church of the Goddess.
After careful consideration, he placed his sights on the Keepers.
These elders were retired Nighthawks who volunteered to enter Chanis Gate. They were in charge of watching the Sealed Artifacts, and they were from a different department from the Nighthawks. They entered and exited using the underground passageway through the cathedral, and they never interfered with the Nighthawks' work, nor would they be disturbed by the Nighthawks.
Perhaps a result of staying behind Chanis Gate for extended periods of time, these Keepers all had certain traits. They had cold auras and had deadpan expressions. Their skin was pale, and they resembled monsters from the deep darkness who were on the border of life and death. Klein believed that it wasn't difficult for him to locate his target if he met one.
His initial plan was to rent a place in North Borough near Saint Samuel Cathedral. He would hire a butler, a valet, a maidservant, a gardener, a chef, and a carriage driver to have a front as a tycoon. Then, he would often head to the cathedral to pray piously, participate in Mass, donate money, and familiarize himself with the bishops and priests.
During this process, he would work hard to find suspected Keepers. He would choose two or three targets and observe their habits. When the opportunity arises, he would imprison one of them, change into his appearance or directly possess him, pass through Chanis Gate, and attempt to flip through or take the Antigonus family's notebook away.
This was a very crude plan that was merely a train of thought. It needed to be perfected according to the intelligence Klein would slowly acquire.
For this matter, Klein's second advantage was the Tarot Club. He had assistants that the Church of the Evernight Goddess and the Nighthawks would never think of. Furthermore, he could consider extending the recruitment of a Backlund diocese Nighthawk or Keeper into the Gathering. He could then complete the theft through this traitor, just like how Emperor Roselle was used to obtain the Antigonus family's notebook by Zaratul.
I've got to frequently head to the cathedral. Only by doing so can I find a target... Klein faced the mirror as he silently nodded.
It had to be said that he felt conflicted. If a true Nighthawk or Keeper were to betray the Church to serve Mr. Fool, his first thought was to unleash divine punishment to get rid of this despicable traitor!
After exhaling, he gave a self-deprecating laugh. He wore his double-breasted frock coat and hat, walked out the room, and reached the streets.
With an umbrella, he circled to another street. Taking advantage of the distant street lamp and the drizzle, he suddenly changed back into Sherlock Moriarty.
Glancing at his wrinkled trousers, Klein stopped a carriage and planned on heading to Isengard Stanton's house in Hillston Borough.
Half an hour later, the somewhat ancient and dark building appeared before Klein's eyes.
He paid 2 soli for his ride as he walked steadily around the puddles amidst the drizzle that refracted the yellowish light of dusk before coming to the famous detective's doorstep.
Putting away his umbrella, he reached out to ring the doorbell and waited for a moment before seeing a man with a wide face open the door.
The man had a head of malt-colored hair, grayish-blue eyes, and high cheekbones. He had the traits of someone from Lenburg or Masin. @@novelbin@@
Mr. Isengard Stanton's new assistant? Someone from the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom? Klein took off his hat and said with a smile, "Good evening, is Mr. Isengard Stanton home?"
"He is. He just had his dinner after a busy day at work," the malt-colored lad replied politely. "May I know who you are?"
Klein chortled and said, "Tell the good detective that a friend of his has returned from his vacation."
The young man was taken aback as he blurted out, "Mr. Sherlock Moriarty?"
-x-X-x-
"You actually know me? This means that Mr. Isengard Stanton often mentions me as a friend, or does it mean that the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom knows that I was embroiled in the Great Smog of Backlund? Klein smiled as he nodded in an unperturbed manner.
"Yes, I'm Sherlock Moriarty."
The grayish-blue-eyed lad immediately gave way as he warmly gestured him in.
"Mr. Stanton has been worried about you all this time. He was afraid that you met with trouble. He can now be at peace."
Klein handed him his umbrella as he took off his hat and coat while walking in. At this moment, Isengard Stanton, who had sensed something, had put down his papers and pipe, and he left his reclining chair to take a look.
"Oh my, Sherlock, you're finally back. It's been so long, my friend." The thin Isengard with grayed sides revealed a smile as he came over with welcoming arms in an attempt to give him a greeting hug.
Klein wasn't used to such a custom, so he forced himself to reciprocate it and smile.
"Mr. Stanton, this isn't something a believer of Wisdom would do."
The bishops and priests of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom had their pride, and they seldom gave greeting hugs.
But in fact, apart from the boorish Feysac Empire and the liberal Intis Kingdom, such a manner of etiquette was rare in other countries and regions. It only happened among very familiar friends.
Isengard took two steps back and chuckled.
"No, Sherlock. We're never stingy with respect and friendliness towards intelligent friends.
"In my heart, you're one of the top five detectives in all of Backlund."
I like that! Klein smiled inwardly as he retorted in jest, "So you're one of the top three detectives?"
To be praised as having true wisdom by a Sequence 7 believer of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom was really delighting.
"I wish that you share the same thoughts as myself," Isengard skillfully and gently replied. Then, he invited him to the living room and to the sofa.
He leaned into a reclining chair and picked up his pipe. With a deep breath, he exhaled.
"I'm very happy that nothing bad happened to you. You seem especially fine, both in body and mind.
"How was it? Was Desi Bay fun?"
Klein had already prepared an excuse as he calmly smiled.
"In fact, I didn't go to Desi Bay. I ended up going to Constant. Heh heh, I was previously embroiled in some trouble in Backlund, so I could only find a place to hide."
Sherlock Moriarty was a gentleman from Midseashire who had a slight accent. It was a very normal choice to return to his hometown after causing trouble. Constant was Midseashire's capital.
"I know," Isengard replied heavily.
He didn't inquire about the trouble which Sherlock had involved himself in. Instead, he said with a smile, "In short, welcome back to Backlund. Come to me if you need any help."
Klein didn't stand on ceremony as he immediately said, "The purpose of my visit was first because it's really has been a while since we last met, and second, I wish that you can sell my shares in the Backlund Bike Company on my behalf. Heh heh, all the documents are in place, and there's no need to carry out any other procedures."
In order to act as a mysterious tycoon and to repay Miss Messenger with the 10,000 gold coins, not only did he plan on selling items he had little use for, but he also planned on letting go of the last 10% of his shares in the Backlund Bike Company. After all, Sherlock Moriarty wasn't able to appear in a legitimate fashion for a long period of time.
"Are you really going to sell it?" Isengard stroked his pipe and said, "Although I've never been a businessman, I can tell that the bike is a product that's of great value and something that can be promoted on a large scale. Its commercial future is like the newly-risen sun, and it has yet to reach its limits. You'll be losing plenty of money by selling it now."
"That's why a buyer will be very willing to raise the price significantly because of this expected value." Klein chuckled. "I believe the people who can tell the value of the bike and its future aren't in the minority. And Framis and Leppard are definitely unwilling to reduce any part of their holdings at this stage. There shouldn't be a problem selling my 10% shares at twice or thrice the normal price. Isengard, the pricing of shares isn't about the present, but about its future."
To illustrate an alluring story for the buyer and investor, and drawing a beautiful future is very necessary! Of course, the value and future of the bike don't require additional input from me. Anyone with any business sense can tell. The only problem stems in the rubber production... Klein silently added inwardly.
"The pricing of shares isn't about the present, but about its future..." Isengard softly repeated Klein's words, and after a moment he sincerely sighed. "Sherlock, perhaps you should be involved in the business world. However, there will always be many accidents present."
"To dare to take risks is equivalent to chivalry in business. Oh well, I admit that I've recently been in dire need of large sums of cash," Klein replied with a smile.
Isengard picked up his pipe as he gave it a satisfactory suck.
"You've convinced me.
"I will specially hire a lawyer and accountant to confirm the market value of Backlund Bike Company. Then, I'll add on an estimate of the expected profits and sell that 10% of yours. The corresponding fees and taxes will be deducted from the amount received.
"Oh... How should I contact you? It seems like your rental contract for the house at Minsk Street has lapsed."
Klein obviously wouldn't expose his present identity. He said, having prepared for it, "You can post news on the Tussock Times, Backlund Daily Tribune, and other newspapers about the sale of the shares to make more people know. Only when there's competition would there be better price negotiations. When it's sold, you can publish a notice to indicate that the deal has been closed and that further inquiries won't be entertained.
"And when I see that notice, I'll come visit you."
Isengard was no stranger when it came to communicating over published notices in the newspapers. He nodded and said, "No problem. Of course, all expenses will be deducted from the final sum received."
With his main goal accomplished, Klein stood up and reached out his hand.
"Thank you for your help, Isengard.
"I need to leave. We can talk in the future."
Isengard didn't hold him back as he sent him straight out the door.
Klein circled to a nearby street and took a carriage to the Bravehearts Bar as he admired Bravehearts Bar's night view in the drizzle.
He planned on reestablishing all the news and resource channels which Sherlock Moriarty used to have!
After entering the noisy bar, he didn't head for the bar counter to order some beer and make inquiries. Instead, he circled around the boxing ring in preparation to leave, so that he could wait for Miss Sharron to appear on the carriage outside.
At this moment, the door to a billiard room creaked open. Ian, with an old coat, walked out with newspapers in hand.
His red eyes did a cursory sweep when he suddenly noticed a familiar figure. He gaped his mouth, but he didn't say his name. He greeted in pleasant surprise, "Good evening, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"
"Not for now. I'm only here to visit an old friend." Klein smiled warmly.
As he spoke, he noticed that the papers in Ian's hand was News at Sea. On it was a striking headline: "Shocking! Crazy adventurer made a fugitive!"
Crazy adventurer... Klein intuitively believed that it had nothing to do with him.
Ian noticed his gaze and raised the newspapers with a smile.
"This is one of the rare up-to-date reports from News at Sea because the bounties have already appeared in various places.
"The crazy adventurer, Gehrman Sparrow, plotted to bring harm on the City of Generosity, and he has been proven to be a member of a cult. In this incident, thanks to the Church of Storms and the military, no one from Bayam was injured. But Admiral of Blood Senor, who was involved in the matter, vanished as a result. It's suspected that he has been killed by Gehrman Sparrow.
"Guess how much of a bounty they are offering for Gehrman Sparrow.
"50,000 pounds!
"It has exceeded Admiral of Blood's, and it's almost reached that of Admiral Hell's!"
50,000 pounds... Klein's heart stirred.
He calmed the palpitations in his heart as he replied with a smile, "Unfortunately, few people can claim such a bounty."
He pointed at the bar's entrance and said, "I'll come to look for you again when I have the time."
"Alright." Ian didn't ask further as he mentioned in passing, "Is Mr. White from the Harvest Church your friend?"
That fellow, Emlyn, is finally willing to get out of the house? For those Primordial Moon believers? Klein nodded.
"That's right."
After saying that, he squeezed through the crowd and pushed open the door to leave the Bravehearts Bar.
After getting onto a rental carriage, Klein cast his gaze outside, awaiting Miss Sharron's appearance.
Of course, he wasn't certain that she was here. Months had passed, so it was very possible that this lady and Maric had switched their area of activity.
Silently, Klein's spiritual perception was triggered as he turned to look at the window. On the glass which could reflect the night view, a young lady in a black bonnet and gothic-styled black dress clearly appeared.
Turning his head, Klein saw Miss Sharron sitting opposite him. Her pale blonde hair, blue eyes, and pale expression didn't seem any different from before.
"Good evening." Klein, who no longer needed to act as Gehrman Sparrow, greeted first.
Sharron got up a little and curtsied.
Realizing that she might've read News at Sea, he was momentarily unable to find a topic for small talk. He cleared his throat and directly said, "I killed Senor."
"Okay." Sharron nodded slightly, indicating that she was aware.
Klein smiled as he continued, "If Maric still needs the Beyonder characteristic of a Wraith, he can wait and prepare the money needed. Once I find a replacement, I'll sell Senor to him."
Sharron didn't ask what "replacement" meant as she replied, "After seeing that piece of news, he has been awaiting your return."
"Very good." Klein chuckled. He reached out for his collar, pulled out a silver necklace and said, "Senor's lucky item. You should know about it, right?"
Sharron tersely answered as she waited for Klein to continue.
"I plan to sell either this or the Biological Poison Bottle. Would you, or people from your circle, be interested?" Klein took the initiative to ask.
-x-X-x-
Sharron was silent for two seconds before she said, "I'll help ask."
It means you need to consider it? That's right. The negative effects of Scales of Luck does leave one hesitant. However, Biological Poison Bottle is really compatible with a Wraith. If it wasn't because I'm short on money, and how it lowers my immunity, making me easily fall sick, I wouldn't be willing to sell it. It's rather effective in an ambush! Klein vaguely grasped Sharron's intentions as he stuffed the silver necklace back into his collar.
He asked after some thought, "Which power of a High-Sequence Prisoner pathway Beyonder makes all surrounding lifeless items attack one's target?"
"Puppet," Sharron succinctly replied.
It's the power of a Sequence 4 Puppet? Turning themselves into a lifeless puppet, so that they are able to control all lifeless objects in a certain range? Advancing further, will they be able to directly influence the mystical items of an enemy? Klein nodded in enlightenment and asked, "Then, do you know that demigod?"
He immediately described in detail the appearance of the elder who had attacked him outside Bayam.
"Shanks," Sharron calmly said a name.
I actually wished that you could share with me more about him... Klein knew Miss Sharron's style as he said with an exasperated smile, "Then, do you know Zatwen?"
He was the mentor of the Naturism Sect's leader in Oravi Island.
"The demigod who was pursuing us," Sharron answered without hiding anything or any emotions, like a doll.
That's the one who made me feel like the chairs, tables, and curtains wished to kill me... What a coincidence... However, it wasn't arranged. It just proves that as a secret organization, the Rose School of Thought, with a history of over a thousand years, doesn't have that many demigods... Perhaps it has about the same number as the Aurora Order. The number of saints number around five, and the number of angels and Grade 0 Sealed Artifacts number about two to three... Of course, this is also because they were suppressed by the seven major Churches, reducing their headquarters to colonies. At the height of their powers, they might've had far more than these... Klein thought and asked again, "Then, do you know the Rose School of Thought member that is able to make an entire mountain tremble with just one arm?"
He planned on describing the arm's traits, but he realized that he hadn't dared to look straight at it.
Sharron listened quietly as her eyes darted around as though they came to life. She asked with a clear voice, "What did you encounter?"
A saint, an angel, as well as Sea King, an Aurora Order demigod, a monster byproduct from the Numinous Episcopate's Artificial Death... Klein silently made a self-deprecating comment as he said with a wry smile, "I got on the bad side with the Mother Tree of Desire, and I suffered an ambush from the Rose School of Thought. Thankfully, I was in Bayam, allowing the Church of Storms and the kingdom's military to take action. I also threw out an item corrupted with the True Creator's aura, as well as something related to the Numinous Episcopate. In short, it was chaos, and I took the opportunity to escape."
He replied frankly, apart from hiding the existence of Miss Messenger and Mr. Azik. As for the matter of the True Creator, he believed that Miss Sharron had long known that he wasn't affected by the ravings. This could be explained by a timely psychological intervention or psychic treatment.
"Mother Tree of Desire..." Sharron murmured the name as rare emotional upheavals slowly appeared in her eyes.
Klein didn't have the interpretation abilities of a Spectator, and he was unable to tell what was exactly on Sharron's mind. He could only sense that she felt a little fear and loathing.
Sharron quickly restrained her abnormal reaction, turning back into an extremely exquisite "doll."
She looked at Sherlock Moriarty and said, "You are very lucky and very mysterious."
Klein smiled without a word, neither lying nor explaining.
Sharron didn't inquire as she said, "You might've met Suah. 'He' is an Abomination born 922 years ago and claims to be the son of the Chained God. 'He' is also the present leader of the Rose School of Thought."
No way. The Rose School of Thought sent its leader and a demigod to deal with me... I'm just a mere Sequence 5! If not for Orange Light Hilarion's warning, I might've already been captured by the Rose School of Thought... Klein felt a chill run down his back again as he asked, "Is Abomination the name of the Prisoner pathway's Sequence 2 or Sequence 1?" @@novelbin@@
"Probably," Sharron didn't give an affirmative answer.
At this moment, without waiting for Klein's response, she said, "Williams Street has been destroyed."
Klein had pondered what kind of reaction he should have when Miss Sharron raised the topic, so he immediately frowned.
"By who? When did it happen?"
"The Nighthawks and Machinery Hivemind. About two months ago." Sharron had clearly gathered the corresponding intelligence.
Klein nodded solemnly and, after some deep thought, said, "Perhaps we've neglected something. That evil spirit didn't need us to rescue it. It was still controlling Baronet Pound!
"Could it be that something happened to that gentleman, incurring the notice of the Nighthawks and Machinery Hiveminds?" Klein offered a guess filled with half-truths without utmost confidence.
Sharron nodded.
"Baronet Pound died during one of his revelries."
That's it? That's the end to Alista Tudor's final bloodline? Klein thought and said, "How's the situation with Williams Street at the moment?"
"Some high-rise buildings are being built," Sharron described without much of an expression. "People monitored it in secret at the beginning, but the surveillance decreased with time, diminishing to zero early last month."
Klein pondered for a few seconds and said, "Have you gone down to explore it?"
Sharron's eyes swept his face.
"No."
This is her remembering our unwritten agreement—to explore it together because we found it together? What a noble-hearted lady. The Rose School of Thought's temperance faction is infinitely times better than the indulgence faction! Klein probed, "Shall we go now?"
"Alright," Sharron succinctly expressed her stance.
Klein immediately instructed the carriage driver, and he changed the destination to Williams Street at the intersection of West Borough and Empress Borough.
Along the way, he casually mentioned what he heard and saw at sea, as well as the experiences that didn't involve his secrets. Although Sharron didn't answer him, she listened attentively, seemingly interested.
This made Klein recall the time when he first got to know her as Miss Bodyguard. She sat on the illusory high-back chair in the oriel window's glass. Her right hand held her cheek as she seriously listened to his conversation with Ian. She had great potential in being a Spectator.
The carriage passed through the silent streets in the drizzle before finally arriving near Williams Street.
Without approaching the area, Klein and Sharron discovered that the area had become a huge worksite.
After circling to the region that matched the underground ruins, they stood behind a huge tree with a lush canopy. Klein said to Sharron, who wasn't drenched by the rain despite not holding an umbrella, "Let's head down."
As the rain fell, they passed through Sharron's blonde hair and body before hitting the ground.
"Alright." Sharron didn't ask how Sherlock Moriarty was planning on heading down with her.
Klein reached his hand into his pocket and easily removed the wall of spirituality, and he opened the iron cigar case.
Beside him, a figure suddenly appeared. It was none other than Admiral of Blood Senor who wore a dark red coat and an old triangular hat.
"He will head down in my stead," Klein said with a smile.
Immediately following that, he controlled his marionette in a composed manner.
Senor immediately pressed his hand to his chest and bowed at Sharron.
"Good evening. I'm honored to work with you."
Sharron swept her gaze across Klein and Senor, and without a word, her body sank into the soil.
Uh, Miss Sharron seems to detest Senor quite significantly... Klein curled his lips and made Admiral of Blood rapidly turn into a Wraith and sink.
As for himself, he leaned on a tree, half-closed his eyes as he seriously controlled the marionette. There wasn't anyone around him, and the drizzle was light and the streetlights dim.
Slowly, Klein found the feeling of being a Marionettist.
His vision and Senor's vision overlapped with one another as he saw black-brown soil, squirming worms, and miscellaneous items in between the rocks.
As they passed through layers of obstacles, they arrived at the region where the ruin once was. The dome ceiling had collapsed and the stone columns had snapped. The area was filled with soil and rubble, looking nothing like it once was.
Such a scene made Klein believe that the humanoid statues of the six deities had been completely destroyed.
To his joy, their location was relatively close to the room which sealed the evil spirit. That meant that he didn't need to worry that any subsequent exploration would exceed the hundred-meter range for the control of his marionette.
Amidst the smell of soil and rot, they soon entered the previously menacing room; however, between the rubble and soil, there were only a few signs of crushed bone and rotting clothes. The dark gold and deep blue light from before had all vanished.
The Beyonder characteristics have been taken away by the Nighthawks and Machinery Hivemind... Senor's expression twitched as it perfectly reflected Klein's mood.
Sharron turned around in the dark solid environment and gently shook her head.
"They didn't send anyone in. There are no traces of living creatures existing in here."
That's right. If a living person had entered and exited this room over the past half year, a Wraith should be able to sense it... Besides, the deity statues obviously cannot be seen by the Nighthawks and Machinery Hivemind... Where did those Beyonder characteristics go? As Klein frowned, Senor had a similar reaction.
Could it be that the evil spirit wasn't completely obliterated? It had long escaped? Klein thought about it when he suddenly came to an alarming conclusion.
He held back his emotions and made Senor pass through the soil and rubble-filled room with Sharron, and they arrived at the spot where the bloody door previously stood. And at that moment, only a few splinters proved that it existed before.
After proceeding forward a few meters, the two truly entered the room where the evil spirit was sealed.
It had likewise been destroyed and buried. Klein used Senor's body and eyes to look for clues as he flew about.
"There should be a black high-back chair here." Sharron stopped and pointed at the splinters above two rocks.
Klein instantly recalled the scene he had once seen in the dream—the young man suspected of being Medici had sat on a high-back chair, his head drooped low as though dead.
Sharron didn't pause. She continued proceeding in the compressed soil in search for any traces. Suddenly, she spoke again.
"There should be one here."
Another one? A second black high-back chair? "Klein" floated over in surprise.
-x-X-x-
Senor, in his Wraith form, passed through the thick soil and rocks under Klein's control, arriving beside Sharron. He saw a damaged armrest which had asymmetrical patterns buried there, looking rather similar, but also different from the splinters they discovered moments ago.
The armrest wasn't pure black in color. Their patterns exuded a dark red color, as though it was an intersection of iron and blood.
Recalling the scene from his nightmare, Klein determined that this wasn't the high-back chair that the entity suspected to be Medici sat on. @@novelbin@@
This was the second chair!
The room that sealed the evil spirit had at least two high-back chairs!
"Klein" and Sharron didn't say a word as they circled around in different directions to search for other clues.
Before long, they discovered the evidence of a third high-back chair!
It was the leg of a chair, mainly dark red in color with pure black patterns. It was completely different from the other two kinds of splinters.
"Perhaps it's a problem caused by the asymmetrical trait of the Fourth Epoch..." Klein knew Sharron's style, volunteering to speak and saying something even he couldn't believe.
In the nightmare that resulted from the evil spirit's influence, the colors of the high-back chairs were, at the very least, uniform!
Sharron shook her head slightly.
"Three has more of a ritualistic feel."
She was implying that the innocent victims of Blood Emperor Alista Tudor weren't just one person back then. Perhaps a ritual had been held in the room that sealed the evil spirit.
Klein was taken aback by what he heard as a scene flashed through his mind.
In a spacious and dark room, three high-back chairs of different styles were placed around a particular point in the center. And sitting on each chair was a breathless humanoid creature with a drooping head. Among them included Red Angel Medici.
The scene became clearer as Klein instantly connected two additional matters together.
The main ingredients of the Sequence 0 Black Emperor's potion is the Uniqueness and two Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics (excluding one's own Beyonder characteristic);
Blood Emperor Alista Tudor had apparently forcefully jumped from the Black Emperor pathway's Sequence 1 Prince of Disorder to the Red Priest Sequence 0, which wasn't a neighboring pathway. As a result, he became a half-crazy true god!
As his thoughts whirred, Klein quickly had a theory.
This room had once held a Sequence 0 advancement ritual needed for a true god!
Of course, according to the complicated ritual needed by a Black Emperor, this was only part of the requirement. The pathway that represented war had clearly required the entire continent to be in chaos and at war to match in scale.
And Blood Emperor Alista Tudor doesn't have the corresponding Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristic, so his Red Priest potion requires three Sequence 1 angels or Sealed Artifacts to provide "Him" with the Beyonder characteristics. There happens to be three high-back chairs here!
Yes, the evil spirit suspected to be Red Angel Medici said that to help it escape its seal, one should find direct descendants of the Sauron, Einhorn, and Medici family, and then extract 10 ml of blood and mix them with holy water... Sauron and Einhorn wield the Hunter pathway and are also angel families of the Red Priest Beyonder pathway. They've existed since the Fourth Epoch to this day. One of them has already waned, only capable of controlling the spy network and a military faction in Intis, while the other remains the royal family of Feysac... Thoughts flashed through Klein's mind as he had a new belief regarding what had happened in the room, as well as the true identity of the evil spirit.
On the other two high-back chairs sat the ancestors of the Sauron and Einhorn families, Sequence 1 angels!
Together with War Angel Medici, who very likely possessed the pathway's Uniqueness, all the main ingredients of the Red Priest potion were gathered!
And that evil spirit is highly likely to not be the pure Red Angel Medici. It might include the remnant psyche and hatred of the Sauron and Einhorn family's ancestors!
Man, this place once sacrificed three Sequence 1 angels! Before "They" died, their curses and the ritual itself left effects, making this room become abnormally horrifying, as well as sealing it? Thankfully I reported this to the Churches ahead of time to let them deal with it. Otherwise, we might have died here if we relied on ourselves. It would be the same even if Miss Sharron and I advanced to Sequence 4. We would become food for the evil spirit... Klein felt a sense of fear and joy.
Meanwhile, he began to understand the reason why the Red Priest card had landed in the hands of the evil spirit. After all, the former highest-ranking members of a pathway were buried here in this underground ruin, the convergence of Beyonder characteristics would naturally lure Beyonders of the same pathway over without any deviations.
Furthermore, as Roselle once said—whatever separates will definitely converge, and whatever converges will definitely separate—after Blood Emperor Alista Tudor perished, the true god characteristic he possessed, which is the Sequence 0 characteristic, will likely split into four pieces.
One is the Uniqueness, an abstract item or concept, while the remaining three are three sets of Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics. If it wasn't because of that, the corresponding Beyonder pathway wouldn't have anymore Sequence 1s when someone becomes a god...
Could one or two of these Sequence 1 Beyonder characteristics be attracted, entering the sealed room? This is likely one of the reasons why the Card of Blasphemy was lured over! The more Klein thought, the more he felt that he had previously underestimated the evil spirit.
They live up to being angels who advanced from Conspirers... Standing under the tree, Klein controlled Senor to say, "Perhaps it really is a ritual.
"It's related to Blood Emperor Alista Tudor. The scale and level involved must be great."
Sharron added after silently listening, "Sauron, Einhorn, Medici..."
Miss Sharron is also suspecting if the three high-back chairs once belonged to different angels from the details requested by the evil spirit... Klein thought for a moment, and he divulged something through Senor.
"Blood Emperor Alista Tudor is likely a true god from the Hunter pathway; the Card of Blasphemy is represented by the Red Priest."
Sharron remained silent for a few seconds as though she came to a realization regarding certain matters as she said, "That card is gone."
She was referring to the Red Priest card which the evil spirit had formerly shown them.
"Perhaps that evil spirit had long escaped before the Nighthawks and Machinery Hivemind destroyed this place." Klein shared his theory. "And it had taken away all the Beyonder characteristics and that Red Priest card."
Sharron silently surveyed the area and said, "It's very crafty. It wouldn't leave behind any obvious clues."
That's right. The Beyonder characteristics outside the sealed room are clearly not at Sequence 4. To an evil spirit who was once a King of Angels, they don't have any allure. Likewise for the Red Priest card... It can be understood that it took away the things in the room, but why didn't it leave anything? It's like telling others something like "Haha, I've fooled you. I've already successfully escaped. Catch me if you can"... Wait, perhaps that's exactly what it wishes to convey! As Klein thought, he suddenly found it amusing as he made Senor speak.
"No, being crafty doesn't necessarily equate to not leaving clues.
"The Sequence 8 of the Hunter pathway is Provoker."
At that moment, the Red Angel that surfaced in his mind had the picture of Anderson Hood over it.
Sharron listened silently as she gaped her mouth slightly, but she didn't say a word.
Similarly, Klein was speechless. He felt that the Beyonders of the Hunter pathway truly had a crystal clear style.
In comparison, the red-haired Helene didn't appear anything like someone from the Sauron family.
However, she was rather talented at provoking Vice Admiral Ailment... Yes, back then, the Sauron family members also infuriated Roselle terribly... Klein silently exhaled as he lampooned.
The silent mood was soon broken by Klein. Senor looked around and said a joke, "Perhaps that's the reason why they were captured and brought here."
"Who was helping Alista Tudor?" Sharron's translucent figure asked, but she didn't seem to look forward to the answer.
"Perhaps it's the six deities..." "Klein" recalled the six deity statues in the hall.
However, he had second thoughts.
"However, the seven deities supported the Trunsoest Empire. The Sauron and Einhorn families were powerful aristocrats of the empire.
"Of course, it cannot be ruled out that they first supported Tudor, and later had a falling out after 'He' went mad."
If it's not the six deities, does it mean that there are other deities supporting Alista Tudor? Who would it be? Klein thought in silence.
Sharron didn't stay any longer as she floated up to the surface, returning to the tree.
Klein stored away Senor's Wraith, allowing it to enter the gold coin inside the iron cigar case. Then, he asked in passing, "Actually, I've always been curious. Where do the powers of pure evil spirits and wraiths who do not have Beyonder characteristics come from?"
"The spirit world," Sharron answered simply.
The conservation of Beyonder characteristics, but the source of Beyonder powers isn't necessarily the same? Yes, perhaps the spirit world itself is the product of some Beyonder characteristics... Klein nodded and looked at the soil beneath his feet.
"I'll continue investigating the whereabouts of the evil spirit. I'll inform you if there's anything."
He planned on asking Arrodes later.
With that said, he took out a pen and paper, scribbled down the method to summoning his messenger, and handed it over.
"You can write to me if there's anything."
Sharron received the piece of paper and seriously looked at it.
"I'll be in the Bravehearts Bar.
"Letters can be mailed to 126 Garde Street, Hillston Borough. Address it to Ma'am Maryam."
"Alright." Klein stuffed his pen into his pocket. In front of Sharron, he used a ritualistic dagger to create a wall of spirituality and resealed the iron cigar case.
Following that, he crossed the street to stop a carriage like a gentleman, sending Sharron all the way back to the Backlund bridge area.
After doing this, he returned to the high-end hotel in Hillston Borough. Midway, he changed his appearance and switched carriages.
...
Bayam. Inside the Seaweed Bar.
Danitz, who had spent some time drifting at sea, once again stepped back into the City of Generosity. He planned on helping the Resistance handle some matters.
He pressed down on his cap, sat at the corner of the bar counter, and prepared to first hear about the recent news. He didn't wish to become a bounty reward due to untimely or inaccurate intelligence.
At this moment, he heard an adventurer beside him say to his companion, "Hey, do you think Gehrman Sparrow will get someone to claim Admiral of Blood's bounty on his behalf?"
Ah? Danitz subconsciously looked up, looking at the speaker with a blank, confused look.
-x-X-x-
Why would the madman, Gehrman Sparrow, need to find someone to claim Admiral of Blood's bounty on his behalf? That's not right. Why would he be able to claim the bounty? Danitz suddenly snapped out of his confusion and grasped the crux of the matter.
He immediately lowered his head to prevent himself from exposing his shock and confusion.
The adventurers beside him continued their conversation.
"How would that be possible? No one would dare to claim it on his behalf!"
"That's right—unless they wish to bear the wrath of the Church of Storms or selling out Gehrman Sparrow!"
"42,000 pounds... If I can receive that sum of money, I'll immediately head to Backlund to be a tycoon!"
"Haha, wouldn't you be enjoying yourself in the Red Theater for half a year first?"
"Perhaps Gehrman Sparrow can claim it from Intis, Feysac, or Feynapotter. Although it wouldn't be as much as 42,000 pounds, it's definitely in no way a low amount..."
...
As the adventurers conversed, they began imagining their lives after obtaining 42,000 pounds. They even had a conflict of opinions and began arguing with flushed faces.
No way... Are they implying that Gehrman has finished off Admiral of Blood? No, although that madman always had the intention of doing so, he lacks the required support that he needs. He needs to work with Captain... Anderson Hood? Danitz stood up, pressed down his cap, and kept his head down. He rushed towards the billiard and card rooms where there were newspapers placed there.
Just as he left, the few adventurers from before looked at his back and spoke in hushed tones.
"Do you recognize him? It's obvious that something is wrong with how he was acting so suspiciously!"
"I didn't get a good look, but I think he's a pirate who's here to gather intel."
"Shall we..." An adventurer gestured, slicing his hand across his throat.
"Perhaps it's someone we can't afford to offend. Let's wait and see." Another adventurer stopped his companion's actions.
Danitz entered an empty billiard room, came to the corner, and picked up a stack of newspapers. He quickly flipped through them, and slowly, his expression twisted.
What did that madman do? He really finished off Admiral of Blood? It's only been a few months, and his strength has risen to such a level? Furthermore, the papers didn't even mention Anderson Hood... Danitz was alarmed and thankful that he wisely chose to submit in front of Gehrman Sparrow. Otherwise, people would've long seen the news of him being hunted in exchange for bounty money.
No, no. Back then, my death wouldn't have been published... Man, Gehrman Sparrow is really a member of a cult... As he thought, Danitz suddenly froze like a statue.
That was because he was apparently, probably, likely a member of that cult...
Haha, the Church and military often likes to exaggerate. Yes, it's a secret organization, not a cult! Danitz consoled himself before having the feeling that the organization backing Gehrman Sparrow was surprisingly mysterious and abnormally powerful.
The successful hunting of Senor, one of the Seven Pirate Admirals, was evidence!
Phew... Danitz exhaled as he apprehensively praised The Fool inwardly, expressing his desires to handle matters seriously.
...
In a small building near the governor-general's office, Elland and Oz Kent walked out.
"It's finally over..." Elland sighed as he wore his captain's hat.
Oz Kent rubbed his red brandy nose and added with a sigh, "That's right."
They had been interrogated while separated for two full days because of Gehrman Sparrow. They were faced with Interrogators who were best at such matters.
Thankfully, Elland had never hidden anything from the beginning. He had reported to his superiors that Gehrman Sparrow was of unknown origins, but that he was friendly to the military. It had nothing to do with him since the decision of making this crazy adventurer an informant while having his background investigated was made by the higher-ups.
As for Oz Kent, there weren't any problems at all. He had followed regular protocol when claiming the bounty for Gehrman Sparrow.
As they slowly walked towards the entrance in the middle of the garden, Elland said with a sigh, "Who knew that Gehrman Sparrow was that crazy and powerful..."
According to the little information that they knew, finishing off Admiral of Blood was just one of the most ordinary and trivial matters that Gehrman Sparrow had done that day.
And such a crazy person had made the choice of entering the dangerous Bansy to save a few passengers and crew members who had merely expressed their friendship to him.
Elland later learned that the dangers lurking in Bansy had far exceeded his imagination. The Church of Storms had directly destroyed the entire place!
If I had told the Interrogators that Gehrman Sparrow has a soft and kind heart, they will definitely think I'm lying... Humans are really a mass of contradictions... Elland silently shook his head.
After hearing Elland's poignant remark, Oz Kent replied with a wry smile, "Back then, I thought you introduced me to a relatively strong adventurer. But in the end, he even finished off Admiral of Blood! Damn it. I even think he has the strength to become the fifth king. You wouldn't doubt what I say if you look at the forest and those nearby mountains!
"That place, it's like... it's like..."
Elland glanced at Oz Kent and finished his sentence for him: "It's like it was blasted by the coastal defenses more than a hundred times over."
"That's right!" Oz Kent agreed with Elland's description.
By then, the two had walked out the main entrance.
Elland looked at the night sky with twinkling stars and the dark crimson moon. After a few seconds of silence, he adjusted his collar and said, "Let's hope he doesn't return to the sea again..."
...
Bayam. 6 Sfere Street.
Dressed in children's clothes, Denton ran up to the study and said to his elder sister who was practicing her sketching, "Donna, th-they say that Uncle Sparrow is a bad guy, a cultist, and a murder!
"Th-they even showed me the newspapers!"
Donna turned her head as she wrinkled her nose.
"No way!
"Uncle Sparrow is a righteous, brave, and kind adventurer. We saw it with our own eyes. These are definitely more reliable than the papers!"
She hesitated for a moment before eloquently saying, "Al-although he had a very terrifying and ugly appearance, it was the price for his dreams and the power to protect! Denton, remember, the papers often like to fabricate content based on rumors or hearsay."
"Yeah!" Denton nodded heavily. "I've already cursed them!"
Donna praised her brother and subconsciously looked out. She saw that the street lamps had cast their light into their garden. It was tranquil, serene, and gentle.
...
Hillston Borough, inside a high-class inn.
Klein folded a white handkerchief and placed it in his left breast pocket, and he raised his hand to retrieve his half top hat.
Today was the day for the mysterious tycoon, Dwayne Dantès, to officially appear in public!
He didn't wait for the sale of the bike company shares or the mystical items, and he planned on first using the remaining 2,962 pounds he had to cover his initial expenses.
This was sufficient, as it was equivalent to six to seven years of an upper-middle class family's income!
Arrodes didn't enter my dream last night. This means that he's unable to sense my return to Backlund without any close contact. That's a good thing. Yes, I'll contact it with the radio transceiver tonight to inquire about the evil spirit. I won't need to go through this hassle in the future, Klein mumbled inwardly as he held his cane and walked out of the hotel.
At that moment, the sun was shining through the thin mist, elating the moods of the pedestrians. Klein got onto a carriage, and he went straight for Cherwood Borough's City Family Servant Assistance Association at 9 Canylowell Street. He planned on hiring an experienced butler, and get him to organize the servants needed for a villa.
In the City Family Servant Assistance Association, Baylin ended a conversation with a male colleague that came to talk to her. She lowered her head to clean up the two drops of black tea on her lotus leaf-colored dress.
At that moment, she heard a mellow and heavy voice that time had left its mark on.
"Good morning, Ma'am."
Baylin hurriedly looked up and towards the reception. She saw a gentleman in his forties, wearing a tailcoat made of silk and carrying a gold-inlaid cane. Apart from the three buttons on his clothes, there was a golden chain that extended into his pocket.
This gentleman had a pair of deep blue eyes, and he was good looking. Even the tiny white patches on the side of his hair had added to the air he exuded. Just a smile from him made Baylin feel her cheeks turn warm.
"Sir, h-how many I be of service? Ah, right. How may I address you?" Baylin hurriedly got up and said.
"Dwayne Dantès," Klein warmly replied with a smile. "I wish to hire a butler, a good one."
"Mr. Dantès, please wait a moment. Have a seat." Baylin hurriedly led Klein to the guest area, and she reached out to point at a cloth sofa.
Klein held a smile without rushing or nagging her. He very patiently sat down and awaited the staff to provide him with a list of names of the butlers.
What a gentleman... Oh no, I forgot to ask him what requirements he has! Baylin raised her hand to touch her cheeks and said, "Mr. Dantès, what kind of butlers are you looking for?"
Klein was already prepared as he replied with a mellow voice, "It's best if they have served in a noble family before."
This aided Dantès in widening his social circle.
Baylin gradually grasped her professional knowledge as she said in detail, "Such butlers are rare. As you know, nobles seldom change their butlers unless they're unable to provide an effective service. Furthermore, even if they aren't able to be a butler, they're able to fill other positions in a noble household. @@novelbin@@
"In addition, the wealthy often have a considerable desire towards such butlers, and they're willing to offer salaries with a premium. Mr. Dantès, we do have the kinds you are looking for, but their annual salaries are above 100 pounds."
That makes the weekly salary to be about 2 pounds and up... An ordinary butler's annual salary is 40 to 80 pounds, which is 15 soli to 1 pound 10 soli a week. That appears to be at the level of a technical worker's salary, but the master will provide room, food, clothes, charcoal, and other necessities. A butler practically has zero expenditure... An annual salary of 100 pounds and above is really expensive... Klein quickly did the math as he replied as though he didn't take much notice, "No problem. As long as they're good butlers."
-x-X-x-
"Please wait a moment. Would you like coffee or tea?" Baylin asked warmly.
Klein laughed and replied, "I enjoyed coffee when I was younger, the rich and fragrant kind, but now, I prefer black tea."
"I prefer black tea as well. Then... a cup of marquis black tea?" Baylin suggested with a smile.
The coffee and tea provided to guests at the City Family Servant Assistance Association were ordinary in quality, ranging from low- to medium-quality. Marquis black tea was tea that Baylin had brought from home for her own enjoyment.
Klein wasn't a simpleton, and he was great at observing. Just as he walked into the door, he would take in everything about his surroundings without anyone noticing. He discovered that the coffee and tea container placed in the display case were very ordinary, and he believed that the quality was definitely lacking. Therefore, he believed that marquis black tea was likely reserved by the association for VIPs, or it belonged to the lady before him. Regardless, it expressed how sincere she was.
He didn't expose her as he smiled.
"Thank you, you leave me unable to reject your suggestion.
"How may I address you, ma'am?"
"Baylin, just call me Baylin," Baylin said with a smile which resembled a blooming flower.
She immediately briskly walked inside, and she selected suitable candidates from her colleague. Then, she returned to the reception counter, picked up a tin container, and skillfully brewed a cup of black tea.
Sigh, with a good-looking face and a good disposition while being dressed in a way that speaks volumes of my status, I can still sense the friendliness from a beautiful girl even though I'm middle-aged...
Klein was having such an experience for the first time as he couldn't help but sigh.
This made him further understand the importance of the Faceless principle of ultimately "being yourself."
If he didn't keep this in mind and lost himself to the benefits brought about by his appearance, he would keep maintaining the corresponding appearance, resulting in him forgetting or even rejecting his former self, and he would gradually lose his identity!
Soon, Baylin carried a white gold-rimmed porcelain teacup and placed it in front of Dwayne Dantès. She said with a smile, "It still needs some time to cool down."
Klein looked down at the cup, and he said half-jokingly, "Perfect, this gives me the time to adjust my mood to more formally face this cup of black tea."
His compliments and gratitude made Baylin feel even better. She found him a true gentleman, one who knew his way with words.
He's definitely not a believer of the Lord of Storms... Baylin combed her slightly curly brown hair, and she returned to the room to hurry her colleague.
Before long, she came over with a stack of documents and sat on the single-seater beside him.
"After the screening, we have three suitable butlers. I'll briefly introduce them to you.
"The first person is Mr. Asnia, age 55. He once served Viscount Yorkville, but after this viscount had a failed mining prospect investment, his family fell into a particular financial situation, and he had to sell its land and manors while terminating many of its servants. In the past decade, he was hired by two tycoons, and he has contributed significantly to the management of their households."
As she spoke, Baylin's brown eyes sparkled like two stars hid in them. She exuded the unique vibes of a teenage girl.
Klein nodded slightly and said, "Then why did he leave the two tycoons?"
Baylin replied with a smile, "The first tycoon invested greatly in East Balam, and his whole family had moved there. Mr. Asnia wasn't willing to leave Backlund, so he offered to resign. The second tycoon's health isn't too good, and he had handed the family business to his son who has a butler he trusts more.
"Mr. Asnia is a believer of the Evernight Goddess, and his political inclinations is with the Conservative Party. He expects an annual salary of 130 pounds."
"May Goddess bless him." Klein tapped four spots in a clockwise manner on his chest, forming the sign of the crimson moon.
Baylin's eyes lit up as she asked, "Mr. Dantès, are you a believer of the Goddess?"
"Of course." Klein nodded with a smile without explaining further.
It's no wonder he's so gentle! Baylin praised inwardly as she continued introducing, "Mr. Rebach, age 48. He once served the Negan family, and he was the deputy butler for a long period of time, as well as an assistant to the butler. Later, after a transaction, he became Baron Syndras's butler.
"Shortly after Duke Negan was assassinated, Mr. Rebach, whose contract came to an end, didn't receive a new contract from the baron, so he had no choice but to seek our help.
"He's not a staunch believer of the Lord of Storms, and his personality is without problems. His political inclination is with the Conservative Party. He expects an annual salary of 120 pounds."
Klein listened silently, nodding from time to time as a response, but he didn't cut off Baylin's description.
Baylin flipped through the documents and took a few glances and spoke again.
"The third person is Mr. Walter, age 42. He had been the land steward and assistant butler at Viscount Conrad's household. Due to certain matters, he had a conflict with the butler, and he chose to leave. He expects an annual salary of 115 pounds.
"He's a believer of the Evernight Goddess, and his political inclination is with the New Party."
Oravi Island's new governor-general is a member of Viscount Conrad's family. This family pledges loyalty to the royal family... The relevant information quickly flashed through Klein's mind.
After the introduction, Baylin handed over the stack of documents.
"Mr. Dantès, who do you wish to choose?"
Klein fell silent for a few seconds before saying with a smile, "Let's do this. Let the three of them come to where I live tomorrow at 9 a.m. I'll meet them and have a chat with them to make the final decision." @@novelbin@@
He knew that such associations didn't provide lodging, and it was purely an agency. Even if he made the selection right there and then, he still had to wait until the afternoon or tomorrow to see his butler. Therefore, he decided to have a small interview to select the person that matched his intentions the best.
"No problem," Baylin said with a smile. "May I know your address?"
Klein sipped the black tea, picked up a pen and paper from the table, and wrote down the location and name of the hotel he was staying in.
"You just came to Backlund?" Baylin blurted out a question when she saw it.
Only then did she realize that Mr. Dwayne Dantès's skin was slightly darker than normal. It was slightly bronze-colored, seemingly a result of tanning. It gave him quite a rugged flavor.
Yes, he doesn't have a Backlund accent... Baylin slowly recalled more details.
Klein smiled.
"I came from Desi Bay. I'm waiting for an excellent butler to help me seek out a suitable house and servants."
After handing over a 3-pound deposit, he politely drank another sip of black tea and got up to bid farewell.
Baylin sent him all the way out of the door and watched him board the carriage.
Mr. Dantès also seems to be a tycoon... Compared to that, his bearing and gentlemanliness are even more charming... Baylin stood in her spot as she casually thought.
On the carriage, Klein half-closed his eyes as he leaned against the wall, and he couldn't help but calculate the subsequent expenditures awaiting him.
The butler will cost around 120 pounds. Taking into account the average cost, a valet will cost 35 pounds, a chef 30 pounds, a gardener 25 pounds, a carriage driver 25 pounds, a nursery governess 20 pounds, three ordinary lady's maid 15 pounds, and three maidservants 10 pounds. This way, just the servants alone would cost 330 pounds a year. It's equivalent to 6 pounds 7 soli a week. This already exceeds my salary back in Tingen.
Furthermore, I'll need to have a carriage which costs about 100 pounds. I need a garden and house, and the weekly rental fee is about 2 pounds. With all the food, clothes, and charcoal expenditure for all these people, the overall cost is ridiculous.
Is this the life of a tycoon...
Klein suddenly felt a little regret over choosing such a persona.
He exhaled as he tried hard to ignore the matter. He took a carriage to Phelps Street in North Borough.
There was a pure-black cathedral here, with a clock tower on each side, producing a symmetrical beauty. This was none other than the headquarters of the Backlund diocese of the Church of the Evernight Goddess, Saint Samuel Cathedral.
Klein adjusted the handkerchief on his left pocket, held a gold-inlaid cane, and strode into the cathedral and walked down the quiet aisle. Under the sunlight which penetrated the colored glass panes, he came to the main prayer hall.
It was very dark, making one's mood automatically turn peaceful. Klein casually found a spot, leaned his cane, and took off his hat. He then closed his eyes and prayed.
Time passed, and after listening to the preaching, he slowly got up, walked to the altar, and bowed at the bishop with short, black hair. Then, he walked to the donation box by the side.
Exhaling silently, Klein took out two 10-pound notes, six 5-pound notes and stuffed it inside.
The bishop caught this sight through the corner of his eye as his expression couldn't help but turn soft.
Typically, unless they specially solicited for donations or received donations from a deceased's will, the cathedral's donation box received tens of pounds at most.
This meant that the person was a tycoon, a rich person!