Chapter 41: Audrey and Her Susie

Chapter 41: Audrey and Her Susie

After pouring his coffee, Klein returned to the armory to pick up the thick stack of historical materials and lecture drafts organized by Old Neil. Following the gas lamps along the wall, he turned toward the stairs leading to the Blackthorn Security Company.

*Tap, tap, tap.* Footsteps echoed through the sealed, silent underground.

After descending the winding staircase, Klein pushed open a door, identified his location, and headed straight for the second office across from him.

After two days of familiarity, he had roughly grasped the layout of the Blackthorn Security Company

The entrance led to a spacious reception hall with a set of sofas and tables. Through a partition lay the inner area. On the left side of the corridor, the three rooms, from nearest to farthest, were Mrs. Orianna's accounting office, a lounge containing several sofa beds, and the stairs leading to the underground.

On the right side, the three rooms, from nearest to farthest, were Captain Dunn Smith's office, a clerical office equipped with typewriters, and the recreation room for official members of the Nighthawks.

Klein had previously seen Leonard Mitchell playing cards with two other team members in the recreation room; he guessed it was *Fight the Landlord*. Of course, Emperor Roselle had renamed it "Fight Evil," though the gameplay was no different from what Klein knew.

Bright had a day of compensatory sleep after his night shifts. Rosanne stayed at the reception desk, and Caesar Francis, responsible for purchasing and requisitioning supplies as well as serving as a part-time carriage driver, was out as usual. When Klein pushed open the door to the clerical office, all three desks inside were empty, and the purely mechanical typewriters sat quietly.

"An Axon Model 1346 typewriter..." Klein whispered, having seen similar items in his mentor's office and Welch's home. He felt that the faintly visible, complex control system was filled with mechanical beauty.

He sat down at the desk with the typewriter, composed himself for a moment, and attempted virtual typing.

At first, he instinctively processed everything into Pinyin. Only after becoming familiar did he "digest" the corresponding memory fragments of the original owner, ceasing to make mistakes.

*Tap, tap, tap!*

The rhythmic clacking of the keys was like a harsh piece of music born of metal and industry. Accompanied by this melody, Klein quickly finished the document for the funding application.

However, he was in no hurry to find Dunn Smith. Instead, he composed himself and began reading the historical materials provided by Old Neil, treating it as both a review and a study session.

As noon approached, he stretched his neck, put away the materials, and used the "Occultism Course" drafts to review and consolidate what he had learned that morning.

Only then did he pick up the "application," walk to the adjacent office, and knock softly on the door.

Dunn was waiting for lunch to arrive. Seeing the document Klein handed over, the corners of his mouth curled up slightly.

"Old Neil taught you?"

"Yes." Klein betrayed Old Neil without the slightest hesitation.

Dunn picked up a dark red fountain pen, scribbled a signature, and said, "It just so happens that I need to apply to the Church and the County Police Department for the funds for July, August, and September. I'll include yours. Once the approval comes through, you can collect it from Mrs. Orianna. You can pick up the pendulum this afternoon."

"Alright," Klein replied concisely and firmly.

His tone and gaze were tinged with obvious joy.

Before taking his leave, he asked casually, "Shouldn't the funding for July, August, and September have been applied for in June?"

How could one be applying for July's funds in July?

Dunn fell silent for a few seconds, took a sip of his coffee, and said, "June saw three consecutive cases. We were so busy... so busy that some things were forgotten."

*As expected of a captain with poor memory...* Klein knew he had asked something he shouldn't have. He gave a dry laugh and hurried out the door.

And so, he began a simple and regular life: half an hour of meditation in the early morning, two hours of occultism lessons in the morning, and an hour and a half of mastering historical materials. After lunch, he would take a short nap in the lounge to recover his energy.

Then, he would collect bullets and go to the "Shooting Club" to practice. After practicing, he would take a stroll to Welch's residence, which wasn't far away, then change his route to walk back via Iron Cross Street to save on public carriage fare. If he still had free time, he would practice skills like Spirit Vision and the Pendulum while picking up groceries along the way.

***

Inside a private chemical laboratory fully equipped with instruments and supplies.

The tall, blonde Audrey gazed at the cup in her hands. Countless bubbles rose to the surface, making the atmosphere feel tranquil.

Finally, the liquid in the cup precipitated into a viscous, silvery-white.

"Haha, I really do have a talent for occultism! I succeeded on the first try! I was so worried about failing that I prepared two full sets of materials!" the young lady whispered to herself in delight.

She put away the various leftover materials she had taken from her family's treasury and exchanged from others, took a deep breath, and prepared to close her eyes and drink the "Spectator" potion.

Just then, the sound of "Woof! Woof! Woof!" came from outside the laboratory, causing Audrey to frown instantly.

She placed the cup containing the gently rippling silvery-white liquid in a dark corner, turned around, and walked to the door.

"Susie, who is it?" Audrey turned the handle and asked the large golden retriever sitting by the door.

Susie wagged her tail with a flattering expression, while the personal maid, Annie, appeared in the nearby corridor.

Audrey stepped out of the laboratory, pulled the door shut behind her, and looked at Annie.

"Didn't I say? Do not disturb me while I am performing chemical experiments."

Annie replied distressfully, "But there is an invitation from a Duchess, from Lady Dela."

"The Duchess of Nugent?" Audrey took a few steps forward, approaching Annie.

"Yes. She has invited Ms. Vivi, the court baker, and invited you and the Lady to enjoy afternoon tea," Annie said, reciting the contents of the invitation.

Audrey puffed out her cheeks almost imperceptibly and said, "Tell my mother that I feel dizzy, perhaps because the sunlight is too strong and I am a bit dehydrated. Ask her to convey my apologies to Lady Dela."

As she spoke, she put on an air of frailty.

"Miss, this isn't just afternoon tea; it is a literary salon," Annie added.

"But that won't cure my dizziness. I need rest," Audrey refused firmly.

At the same time, she muttered silently in her heart: *If they persist, I'll just faint right in front of them. My etiquette teacher said I perform that movement perfectly... Wait, did I hear something?*

"Very well," Annie sighed. "Do you need me to assist you back to your room?"

"No need. I need to tidy up the laboratory first." Audrey wanted nothing more than to return immediately and consume the potion.

However, she restrained her temperament, watched Annie walk away, and then turned back toward the laboratory door.

Suddenly, she realized that Susie, the golden retriever who should have been outside, was missing, and the laboratory door was half-open.

"I forgot Susie knows how to open doors with handles... What was that sound? Oh no!" Audrey heard a crisp sound from inside. A sudden realization struck her, and she rushed into the laboratory.

As far as her eyes could see, there was a shattered cup on the floor and the last drop of silvery-white liquid being licked up by Susie.

Audrey stood frozen at the doorway, like a statue.

Susie immediately sat upright, looked at her owner with innocent eyes, and wagged her tail.

***

In the waters off the coast of Pritz Harbor, on an island perpetually shrouded in storms, an ancient sailing ship sat in the harbor.

A man with soft blonde hair, wearing a robe with lightning patterns, looked at Alger Wilson opposite him and said with great confusion

"Alger, you could completely return to the Kingdom and become a Captain of a Punisher squad or a respectable Bishop. Why choose to go to sea and become the captain of the 'Azure Avenger'?"

Alger's rugged, deep-set face showed no extra emotion as he replied solemnly, "The sea belongs to the Storm. This is the Lord's domain. I am willing to follow the Lord's will and patrol this domain on His behalf."

"Very well." The blonde man struck his chest with his fist. "May the Storm be with you."

"May the Storm be with you," Alger replied with standard etiquette.

Standing on the deck with only a few crew members, he watched his companion leave the ghost ship, walking further and further away.

"Sais, you don't understand because you don't know enough..." Alger whispered silently.

Meanwhile, Audrey completed her second concoction with trembling fear.

Looking at the silvery-white potion, which looked no different from the previous one, she was so moved she nearly shed tears.

*Whew.* She took small, quick sips of the "Spectator" potion.

***

On Friday, a rainstorm hit Tingen, with raindrops drumming against all the windows.

Inside the Blackthorn Security Company, Klein, Rosanne, and Bright sat on the sofas in the reception hall, enjoying lunch.

Because there was only a stove for boiling water here and no way to reheat leftovers, and since Klein couldn't eat black bread every day or take a public carriage back—which would be a waste of money since he would have to consider taking a carriage back from Welch's residence after walking from Iron Cross Street in the afternoon—he had no choice but to eat the so-called "office meals" with Rosanne and the other colleagues.

—The nearby Old Ville Restaurant would send a waiter at exactly 10:30 every day to ask how many people needed lunch. Once the number was confirmed, they would deliver the food at 12:30 in containers similar to lunch boxes. At 3:00 PM, they would return to ask if dinner was ordered and collect the utensils.

Such "meals" included meat, vegetables, and bread. Although the portions weren't large, they were enough to fill a person. A meal ranged from 7 pence to 10 pence, depending on the grade.

Klein thick-skinnedly chose the 7-pence option every time, which usually consisted of half a pound of oat bread, a small piece of meat prepared in a different way, a spoonful of vegetable soup, and a little cream or butter.

"There's actually only one Nighthawk here today..." Rosanne said, bringing a spoonful of soup to her mouth.

"I heard a case occurred in the Golden Wutong District involving cult elements, so the police department requested two Nighthawks to go over..." Bright said, putting down his bread.

Klein used the remaining oat bread to dip into the last of the meat gravy and stuffed it into his mouth, saying nothing.

Inside his left sleeve, a silver chain hanging a citrine was faintly coiled.

Just then, a *knock, knock, knock* came from the half-open door.

"...Come in." Rosanne froze for a moment, put down her spoon, quickly wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, stood up, and spoke.

The door was pushed open, and a man entered wearing a half-top hat, his black formal suit wet on the left shoulder.

His temples were graying, and he held a folded umbrella. He looked at Klein and the others and asked

"Is this the former mercenary squad?"

"You could say that," Rosanne answered familiarly.

The tall, thin man coughed and said

"I have a mission I wish to commission."

(End of Chapter)