The time for the representatives of the Anjou royal family to arrive in Tobesk was drawing closer, and the residents of Tobesk could feel the importance the city hall and the kingdom placed on the matter. However, this had nothing to do with Shade for the time being. After leaving the Prophecy Association, he bid farewell to the cat basking lazily on his windowsill at home and traveled to Huntington City via the statue in the basement.
When he stepped out of the wine cellar at the White River Valley Vineyard, the morning sun of the transition between autumn and winter was almost blinding.
Raising his hand to shield his eyes, he happened to see Mr. Bernhardt standing in the courtyard of the small manor with his servant and coachman, directing workers as they unloaded goods from a flatbed cart.
"Good morning, Mr. Bernhardt."
"Good morning, Mr. Watson."
The two greeted each other with familiarity. Shade tightened the collar button of his warm black overcoat and walked over.
"Storing food for the winter again?"
The middle-aged vampire hesitated for a moment, shook his head cautiously, and stood beside Shade to watch the workers unload.
"No, it's tobacco."
"Tobacco... hm?"
Shade was somewhat surprised and lowered his voice.
"You're in the tobacco business too?"
Whether in Delarion or Carsonrick, the tobacco trade was controlled by the kingdom. Looking at the way the goods were being unloaded, it didn't look like a legitimate business by any means.
"Do you have smuggling channels? To the New World, or to Delarion?"
Shade wasn't particularly shocked; after all, Lecia was running an arms smuggling business in Mi-burg.
"No, no, no, I'm not that bold."
Mr. Bernhardt lowered his voice slightly.
"Didn't we meet Princess Margaret yesterday and help solve a murder case? Her Highness has a very good impression of me. Last night, she sent someone to my manor with a note. These are the Princess's goods, brought from Wheelendale. She asked me to store them at the White River Valley Vineyard first, and once the steam airship lands tomorrow, I am to transport the shipment there."
Shade froze for a few seconds before realizing.
"Princess Margaret wants to smug—"
"How can you call it smuggling when it's a matter of the royal family?" Mr. Bernhardt corrected. "Besides, airships have so much space; it's empty anyway, so it's only right to put some valuable goods in there. I doubt His Majesty would mind, though it's best if others don't find out. Of course, even if it were discovered, one could simply say these are gifts for Delarion."
Shade wore an expression of understanding, then asked with great interest, "The Princess isn't letting you do this for free, is she?"
Mr. Bernhardt looked around and leaned in to signal a number with his fingers.
"This much."
Shade did the math and raised an eyebrow.
"She really is generous."
"After all, excluding the tobacco tax, the cost of these goods isn't much, but you know the selling price of tobacco." The middle-aged noble, who enjoyed wine, smoking, and drinking blood, shook his head with a sigh. "The kingdom's tax department is more like a vampire than I am."
It seemed that people of all social classes loved to complain about taxes, whether in Delarion or Carsonrick.
Since Mr. Bernhardt was busy helping Princess Margaret transport her goods today, he did not accompany Shade into the city. However, he had already compiled the materials regarding the local rumors of the "Goddess in the Lake" and handed the folder to Shade.
"Actually, similar rumors pop up every few years; I heard many of them when I was a child. If you want to go adventuring, you can call me along. Winter is almost here, and I have nothing urgent to do," Mr. Bernhardt said.
The gentleman had intended to have the carriage take Shade to Huntington City, but Shade chose a horse from the stables, preferring to ride through the countryside.
The rural sky was free from the polluting smog of steam factories. On this morning at the turn of the season, the weather was excellent, with large clouds hanging like cotton in the deep blue sky. Shade, who could barely be described as knowing how to ride, traveled along the country roads, observing the surrounding fields and vineyards.
Riding a horse was indeed colder than sitting in a carriage. Once he finished his business in Huntington City, Shade would have to consider the heating problem for Number 6 St. Delan Square during the winter.
Princess Margaret, along with her accompanying private physician and servants, was currently staying at the Rothschild Mansion in the center of Huntington City, which was a royal property in the area. However, when Miss Sylvia had arranged to meet Shade during the council meeting last night, she had not asked him to come to the Rothschild Mansion, but had instead given him the address of the local "Owl Bookstore."
The Owl Bookstore was located in the middle of Malfoy Street in Huntington City and looked entirely unremarkable from the outside. The street-facing window displayed popular novels like *The Secret of Sisyphus*, *The Mad Knight and the Foolish Princess*, and *The Storm Eye Adventure Guide*. Upon pushing open the bookstore door, the first things seen amidst the ringing of a bell were *The Collected Poems of Rodels* and *The Selected Works of Troggs*, which were, conversely, works of serious literature.
On this pleasant morning, the bookstore had a drowsy atmosphere, much like a dull summer classroom. There were few people here. After entering, Shade walked straight to the counter and tapped the wooden surface to wake up the young man in a white shirt and brown vest who seemed to be dozing off.
In unskilled Carsonrick, Shade asked softly, "I'm looking for a book."
"What book?" the young man behind the counter asked with a yawn. He looked to be at least seventeen or eighteen, with acne scars as dense as freckles on his face.
"*The Theory of Large Numbers*."
"Oh, this way, please." The young man lifted the counter shutter and then opened a door behind him that blended almost seamlessly into the wall.
Shade nodded and was about to step inside when he asked, "Do you have *The Collected Detective Stories of Hamilton*?"
The young man hesitated, eyeing Shade suspiciously. "Is that part of the code?"
"No, I genuinely want to find that book."
"Oh, I see. But sorry, that foreign novel seems to still be in translation. If you want to read it, you can ask at a Delarion trading house; currently, there is only a Delarion language version."
Shade had hoped he might find a pirated copy here.
Behind the Owl Bookstore was a building resembling a large club; this place was, in fact, the Warlock black market of Huntington City.
Miss Sylvia was already waiting for Shade. As the attendant led Shade inside, the lady was holding a teacup and flipping through a book—the very same *Collected Detective Stories of Hamilton* that Shade had just mentioned.
"Good morning, Knight."
The Great Witch, whose physical body was slightly younger than the Outsider's, gestured with the book in her hand. She was wearing a black dress today. Her black hair actually clashed slightly with the black dress, and since people of this era were superstitious that black brought calamity, this was the first time Shade had seen such a style of dress.
"That's a book written by a friend of mine," Shade said, pulling out a chair to sit opposite the witch. The witch waved her hand to the young girl standing nearby, who came over to pour tea for Shade. This girl was also her follower, but her rank was lower than Shade's.
"Yes, otherwise it would be impossible to describe you in such detail. Miss Galina Cavendish has truly found a fine follower."
"No, I am not Miss Galina's follower," Shade corrected, thanking the girl for the tea. "I can only be considered... a partner."
"Yes, I understand. Your statuses are equal," the witch said, fully grasping the implication of Shade's words. "However, your friend says in the book that you are very good at mathematics?"
"Passably," Shade nodded reservedly. When Dorothy was shaping the characters of her story, she had borrowed heavily from his image. She had asked Shade if he was skilled in art or had any unique hobbies, and Shade had replied that he was good at math.
Dorothy hadn't asked how good he was; she had simply said happily that mathematics indeed paired well with a shrewd detective.
"Can you provide an answer to this problem?" The witch pushed a notebook toward Shade. Shade tilted his head to look and found that she had specifically used the Delarion language.
"Multivariate equations? Currently, the entrance exams for the Delarion Higher Academy are more difficult than this. I don't think you need to test me with such a problem, do you? Moreover, does this have anything to do with spatial power?"
Because he had considered going to the university in Tobesk to obtain an honorary degree through donations—to rid himself of a cultural level equivalent to a "Spyro Detective Tutor"—Shade was aware of this information.
"It has nothing to do with spatial power, but I am curious about your mathematical level." Miss Sylvia smiled and flipped to the next page for Shade to continue.
The next page contained some pencil sketches with dense letters written beside them.
"Solid geometry? My lady, although I am not particularly skilled in this, you have already selected the coordinate system and reference points. I believe the difficulty of solving this is not great."
He took the notebook and hastily drew a few auxiliary lines. Having been in this world for nearly half a year, these skills were not unfamiliar to him.
"Very good." The witch nodded again and finally flipped to the last page. "Look at this. I think this might be somewhat difficult."
Shade continued to look and found that the things written in cursive letters in the notebook were very familiar.
"Morse expansion?" (Chapter 201)
In the Outsider's homeland, this was actually called a Taylor expansion.
"You know this?" The young Great Witch was genuinely surprised this time. Shade nodded.
"During the summer, I attended a few academic lectures and reports held in the Tobesk university district. I didn't expect that you would also understand this."
Miss Sylvia studied him carefully. "You are far smarter than the girls of the Anjou family. I have always believed that mastering mathematics allows a Warlock's way of thinking to be more rational, logical, and organized. Moreover, basic mathematics and geometry have always been inextricably linked to Ritualism."
She put her notebook away.
"Mr. Hamilton, you are quite impressive. Now I can ask this question—are you interested in becoming my apprentice?"