Due to the issue with his eyes, Shade did not leave the house for the entirety of Monday. Yet, by some coincidence, a client actually came knocking on his door that afternoon.
Unwilling to turn away a client who had gone through the trouble of visiting Number 6 St. Delan Square, Shade searched Detective Spire's bedroom and found a pair of plain glasses to partially obscure his eyes.
Detective Spire's vision was normal, so these glasses were likely just a disguise prop.
The visitor was Mrs. Morse, a resident of western Tobesk, who had recently encountered one piece of good news and one piece of bad news.
The good news was that her paternal uncle had unfortunately passed away, leaving her several local shops in Tobesk, valued at roughly four figures in gold pounds. The bad news was that before she could inform her husband, Mr. Morse, she discovered that he had a mistress.
To prevent her inheritance from being split with her husband and used to support the mistress, Mrs. Morse wanted to commission Detective Hamilton—who advertised in the *Steam Bird Daily*—to investigate whether the mistress existed, and if so, who she was.
This kind of commission involving infidelity and mistresses was the specialty of the previous detective, Spire Hamilton; Shade had finally encountered one.
"Um, may I ask, does the operation of those shops require much of your effort? If you don't sell them, is the income enough to support you living alone in Tobesk?"
After understanding the basic situation, Shade asked this to evaluate how much he should charge for the commission.
"The shops don't require much effort; I only need to check the accounts occasionally. As for the income—oh, Detective, supporting a woman living alone and allowing her to maintain a decent lifestyle is absolutely no problem."
Materials brought by Mrs. Morse were spread across the table between them. She spoke with a hint of sorrow, still immersed in the grief of her husband's betrayal.
But after answering the question, the suddenly wealthy middle-aged woman suddenly paused, an expression of sudden realization appearing on her modestly made-up face
"That's right! Since this inheritance is enough for me to live on, what do I still need him for?"
"Huh?"
Shade looked up at her in surprise, the pen he was using to write in his notebook coming to a halt.
"Yes, Detective, you are absolutely right!"
An uncontrollable smile broke across the middle-aged woman's face, and she suddenly became cheerful.
"Sorry, what did I say?"
"Detective, you're right. Since I have this inheritance, why do I still need that unfaithful man?"
"Did I say that?"
Shade began to doubt his own memory, then looked at the cat lying beside him.
【No, you didn't.】
Although Mia couldn't speak, fortunately, there was "her."
"Yes, perhaps I should find a lawyer specializing in inheritance and divorce commissions rather than a detective."
The woman gathered the scattered documents from the table and took several banknotes from her wallet, placing them on the coffee table
"Detective, thank you so much. I was truly foolish; why didn't I think of this before? I have my inheritance, he has his mistress—this is truly a situation where everyone can be happy!"
The banknotes on the coffee table amounted to about three or four pounds. Even for a standard mistress investigation, Shade likely wouldn't have charged that much.
"You—"
He wanted to say that he didn't wish to break up someone's marriage, but looking at Mrs. Morse, it was clear she had figured it out herself.
In this situation, Shade truly didn't know what to say, so he could only give the business card of Lawyer Locke Laurel—whom he had met a month ago while handling the Lemel inheritance case—to the woman who seemed to be heading toward a new life.
"Though it might be wrong to think this way, it would be wonderful if every commission were this simple."
This was Shade's thought as he saw off the generous client downstairs.
Tuesday arrived, and the problem with Shade's eyes remained unresolved; the starlike points of light in his eyes showed no sign of fading. Consequently, he had to use the eyeshadow Tifa had sent. However, because he had absolutely no idea how to use such cosmetics, he wasted ten minutes of the maid's time as she taught him how to apply it.
Tifa was almost face-to-face with him, helping him apply the eyeshadow from the front. Although there was little physical contact, looking at Tifa's face from such a close distance still made Shade blush slightly.
In the afternoon, when he went to the Tobesk railway station to see off Priest Augustus, Shade left the house with the eyeshadow applied. As a result, not only did ordinary people fail to notice anything unusual, but even Priest Augustus, who was proficient in potion science, saw nothing wrong with his eyes.
With this, Shade could finally feel at ease about normally participating in the Great City players' semi-finals tomorrow.
"Priest, roughly how long will it take you to reach Midhillburg?"
Still on the platform of the Tobesk railway station, Shade shared a final farewell with the priest. Two other local elderly priests were leaving with Priest Augustus, so the church had organized a dedicated send-off party. Because of this, the other three members of the group didn't come, leaving Shade to represent them.
"We are taking a steam locomotive specially arranged by the Kingdom for the church, going directly from Tobesk to Midhillburg. We might stop along the way to change the locomotive, add fuel, and replenish water and food. It will take about six or seven days to reach Midhillburg."
The priest thought for a moment before giving his answer.
In truth, beyond the reasons for stopping mentioned by the priest, long-distance steam train travel also had to account for "Train Sickness." This was a mental illness passengers developed after long journeys due to the psychological torture and distress caused by constant shaking and noise.
As steam trains and rails spread from the core cities of the Old Continent to the surrounding areas, people had already noticed this strange ailment. After the church confirmed it had nothing to do with the occult, the intervention of psychologists provided effective help in explaining "Train Sickness."
The straight-line distance between Midhillburg and Tobesk was approximately 1,100 miles (about 1,770 km), and the maximum speed of contemporary steam trains was 70 km/h. Considering stopping times and the fact that rails could not be laid in a perfectly straight line, it was normal for a direct steam train traveling from Tobesk in the northwest of the Old Continent to Midhillburg in the east-central region to take about a week.
"Then I wish you a smooth journey. Once you arrive, don't forget to write to us."
Shade waved goodbye to Priest Augustus, then lowered his voice
"If you have time, don't forget about my sword."
The priest winked with a smile
"Of course, but you don't forget to help me with the cleaning."
Priest Augustus likely wouldn't return for most of the autumn, so his potion workshop needed someone to look after it. Among the four group members, Shade seemed the most idle, and as a senior believer of the Church of Dawn, he had a reason to be near Dawn Square frequently. Thus, the priest had handed the spare key to him.
"No problem. I wish you safety."
"I am with others from the church, so I will certainly be safe. Moreover, I have friends locally; come to think of it, I haven't seen them in many years."
The priest said, then turned to converse with his colleagues from the Dawn Cathedral who had come to see him off.
Shade stood there, alongside the nuns and priests of the Church of Dawn, watching the priest board the train with his luggage. Then, just as it had been when seeing off Captain Radis, the train carried Priest Augustus away amidst billowing steam and the blast of the whistle.
"By the time the priest returns from Midhillburg, it will probably be almost snowing season."
Shade thought to himself, hands in his pockets, walking toward the station exit with the church personnel.
For some reason, he thought back to two weeks ago when Professor Vera Millar of the Astronomy Academy performed divinations for the five group members. While the results for the others were normal, Priest Augustus's result had been "Death."
"It should be fine..."
He thought, looking back at the empty platform after the send-off crowd had departed
"Why did I suddenly think of that?"
He truly couldn't figure it out.
(End of Chapter)