Chapter 29: Both "Profession" and Housing are Serious Matters

Chapter 29: "Profession" and Housing are Serious Matters

Klein worked hard not to show any abnormality, asking with a sense of genuine curiosity

"What abilities does a 'Seer' have?"

"Your question isn't precise enough. It should be: what abilities does one gain upon consuming the 'Seer' potion?" Dunn Smith shook his head with a smile, his gray eyes and face turned away from the red moon, hidden in the shadows. "Astrology, card divination, pendulums, spirit vision, and many, many other similar things. Of course, consuming the potion doesn't mean you immediately understand and master them; the potion merely grants you the qualification and capacity to learn them."

"Because they lack direct means of combat—ha, you can imagine—ritual magic requires too much preparation and is entirely unsuitable for encounters. Therefore, correspondingly, in terms of occult knowledge, a 'Seer' will be more erudite and professional than a 'Mystery Pryer'."

*It sounds quite consistent with my requirements... but the lack of direct combat means makes me hesitate... and the Church of the Evernight Goddess most likely doesn't have subsequent "Sequences"... "Sanctuary" probably refers to the Church headquarters, the Tranquility Cathedral... the direct combat means of low sequences might not even compare to firearms...* Klein fell into silence, the scales in his mind swaying back and forth, sometimes toward "Mystery Pryer," sometimes toward "Seer." As for "Corpse Collector," he had already stopped considering it.

Seeing this, Dunn Smith smiled and said

"Don't rush your choice. Tell me your answer on Monday morning. Regardless of which one you choose or if you intend to give up entirely, there will be no extra judgment within the Nighthawks."

"Calm yourself, and consult your heart."

Having said that, he took off his hat, gave a slight bow, and walked past Klein toward the stairs.

Klein did not speak, nor did he give an immediate answer. He bowed in silence and watched him leave in silence.

Although he had been hoping to become a Beyonder every moment, when the opportunity truly arrived before him, he was still filled with hesitation: the lack of subsequent "Sequences," the various ways Beyonders could lose control, the credibility of Emperor Roselle's diary, and the maddening, soul-corrupting illusory whispers—all mixed together into a swamp that hindered his progress.

He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

"It's comparable to a student filling out university preferences when the stakes are neither good nor bad..." Klein gave a self-deprecating smile, reined in his wandering thoughts, quietly opened the door, returned home, and lay on his bed.

He lay there with his eyes open, quietly watching the underside of the top bunk, which was stained with a faint crimson hue.

A drunkard stumbled past outside the window, and a carriage sped down the empty street in the distance. These various noises did not break the tranquility of the night; instead, they made it feel more remote and profound.

Klein's emotions settled. He thought of various past events on Earth: his father, who loved exercising and always spoke in a loud voice; his mother, who had chronic illnesses but loved busying herself for everyone else; his best friends, who had grown up with him and evolved from playing football and basketball to playing video games and mahjong; and that person whose face had blurred after a failed confession... These memories were like a quietly flowing river, with few ripples and not too much sorrow, yet they silently submerged his soul.

Perhaps one only understands the value of something once it is lost. When the crimson faded, the horizon burned, and the golden light emerged, Klein had already made his choice.

…………

He got up, went to the public washroom to wash his face to refresh himself, then took 1 Sol and went to Mrs. Wendy's to buy 8 pounds of rye bread for 9 pence to replenish the staples they had finished last night.

"The price of bread is starting to stabilize..." After breakfast, Benson made a comment while changing his clothes.

Today was Sunday, and he and Melissa finally had a chance to rest.

Klein, who was already dressed in formal attire, sat in a chair flipping through the expired newspapers he had brought back yesterday. He said with some surprise

"There's an advertisement for houses for rent here: No. 3 Wendel Street, North District, a detached house, two stories in total. Six rooms upstairs, three washrooms, two large balconies; downstairs is a dining room, a living room, a kitchen, two washrooms, two guest rooms, and a cellar... Beyond the house, there is a 2-acre private lawn in front and a small garden in the back. Available for rent for one, two, or three years. Weekly rent is 1 pound and 6 pence. Interested parties should go to No. 16 Champagne Street and look for Mr. Gushlev."

"That is our future goal," Benson said with a smile as he put on his black half-top hat. "The rents in the newspapers are all a bit high. The 'Tingen City Housing Improvement Company' has cheaper options that aren't much worse."

"Why not look for the 'Tingen Working Class Housing Improvement Association'?" Melissa emerged from the partition, holding her worn-out gauze hat and wearing a light gray-white dress that, despite being mended several times, was still her best attire.

She was calm and reserved, yet she could not hide her youthful aura.

Benson laughed heartily

"Who did you hear about the 'Tingen Working Class Housing Improvement Association' from? Jenny? Mrs. Rochelle? Or perhaps your good friend Selena?"

Melissa glanced to the side and answered softly

"Mrs. Rochelle... I ran into her while washing up last night. She asked about Klein's interview, and I told her a bit about it. Then she suggested looking for the 'Tingen Working Class Housing Improvement Association'."

Seeing that Klein also looked puzzled, Benson shook his head with a smile

"That is a housing association aimed at the poor—er, to be precise, the lower class. The houses they build and renovate are basically communal washroom types, offering only three choices: one-bedroom, two-bedroom, or three-bedroom. Do you want to continue living in a place like that?"

"The 'Tingen City Housing Improvement Company' does the same business as them, but they also provide options for the lower-middle class. To be honest, we are slightly better than the lower class right now, but still a bit worse than the true middle class. It's not a matter of salary; it's mainly due to a lack of accumulated time."

Klein understood. He put away the newspaper, took his top hat, stood up, and said

"Then let's head out."

"I remember the 'Tingen City Housing Improvement Company' is on Narcissus Street," Benson said as he opened the door. "Like the 'Tingen Working Class Housing Improvement Association,' they are called 'Five Percent Charity.' Do you know why?"

"I don't," Klein said, picking up his cane and walking beside Melissa.

The girl with smooth black hair reaching her back also nodded.

Benson stepped outside and said

"These housing improvement associations and companies were all established under the influence of Backlund. Their funds come from three channels: first, raising money from charitable funds; second, obtaining high-quality loans with an annual interest of only four percent from government public affairs loan commissioners through declarations; and third, accepting commercial investment by providing a five percent annual return to investors through the collection of certain rents. That is why they are called 'Five Percent Charity'."

*Clack, clack, clack.* The three siblings walked down the stairs and headed toward Narcissus Street. They intended to find a house first before looking for the current landlord, Mr. Frankie, to avoid a situation where they had to move out of here before they could move into the new place.

"I heard from Selena that there are also purely charitable housing improvement companies?" Melissa said, as if thinking.

Benson chuckled

"There are. The 'Deville Trust Company' established by Sir Deville's donations is one. He builds apartments for the working class and provides professional property management, yet only charges very low rent. However, the requirements are very strict."

"It sounds like you don't like it much?" Klein keenly sensed this and asked with a smile.

"No, I respect Sir Deville very much, but I think he certainly doesn't know what the lives of the truly poor are like. The residency requirements for his apartments are like the hope given by a priest—too unrealistic. For example, one must be vaccinated against major diseases, must take turns cleaning the washrooms, cannot sublet the house or use it for business, cannot litter, and cannot let children play in the hallways. Goddess, does he want to turn everyone into a gentleman or a lady?" Benson replied in his usual tone.

Klein frowned in confusion

"That sounds like it has no problems at all. They are all very good requirements."

"Mhm," Melissa echoed with a nod.

Benson turned his head, glanced at them, and chuckled

"Perhaps it's because I've protected you too well and haven't truly witnessed the life of the poor. Do you think they have money to get major vaccinations? The queues for free charitable medical organizations can stretch three months into the future."

"Do you think their jobs are stable and not temporary? If they can't sublet parts of the house to collect fees, what happens when they face unemployment? They'd have to move out again. And many ladies earn a living by helping people sew clothes or making matchboxes at home; that counts as commercial use. Are they supposed to be driven out too?"

"Most poor people are using every ounce of their energy just to survive. Do you think they have the leisure to discipline their children and keep them from playing in the hallways? They can probably only lock them in the rooms until they are seven or eight, then send them to wherever is willing to accept child labor."

Benson described it without many adjectives, leaving Klein feeling slightly unnerved.

*Is this the life of the lower class?*

Beside him, Melissa also fell into silence. After a long time, she spoke in a hollow voice

"After moving to the Lower Street, Jenny didn't want me to visit her at her house anymore..."

"I hope her father can emerge from the shadow of his injuries and find a stable job again. However, I've seen too many drunks who use alcohol to numb themselves from then on..." Benson let out a heavy, mocking scoff.

Klein didn't know what to say. Melissa seemed to be in a similar state. In silence, the three siblings walked to Narcissus Street and found the "Tingen City Housing Improvement Company."

The person responsible for receiving them was a middle-aged man with a kind smile. He wasn't in formal attire and wasn't wearing a hat, but wore a white shirt and a black vest.

"You may call me Scott. I wonder what kind of housing you all are looking for?" He glanced at Klein's silver-inlaid cane and smiled even more warmly.

Klein looked at the silver-tongued Benson and signaled for him to answer.

Benson spoke very directly

"A terraced house."

Scott flipped through the documents and files in his hands, the corners of his mouth curling up

"There are currently five unrented properties. To be honest, we mostly cater to those with genuine housing difficulties—workers and their children crowded into six, eight, or even ten, twelve people in a single room. Terraced houses are not many. One is at No. 2 Narcissus Street, one in the North District, one in the East District... weekly rents vary from 12 to 16 pence. You can look at the specific descriptions."

He pushed the documents toward Benson, Klein, and Melissa.

After browsing through them, the three siblings exchanged glances and simultaneously pointed to a specific spot on the paper.

"Let's look at No. 2 Narcissus Street first," Benson said, and Klein and Melissa nodded in agreement.

This area was, at the very least, a place they were somewhat familiar with.