Chapter 42: Butler Kelly

Chapter 42: Kelly the Butler

"I have a mission I'd like to commission... I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place... This security company's name is truly just a name..."

Hearing the newcomer's words, Klein felt a surge of internal sarcasm, wishing there were a forum or bullet comments here to vent his frustrations.

However, he quickly remembered asking a similar question before. The Captain's answer had been: if there is free time, why not take it? The money earned could serve as the team's petty cash and welfare for the participants.

Roselle's eyes darted around as she thought for a moment before saying

"Our security personnel are all out on missions. The earliest they could return is in at least an hour. If your matter isn't urgent, you might consider it."

Among the six official members of the Nighthawks, Captain Dunn Smith had been invited to the church by the Bishop, though it was unknown what they were discussing; Leonard Mitchell was currently guarding the "Channes Gate" in his stead.

"Corpse Collector" Frye and "Sleepless" Loya Laitin had headed to the Golden Wutong District to assist the police in investigating a theft involving cult elements; another "Sleepless," Cohen Lee White, was on his scheduled day off; and the other "Midnight Poet," Sika Teon, had gone to the "Raphael Cemetery" in the northern suburbs for her routine patrol.

As for the remaining two Beyonders, Old Neil was aging and his health was declining, so he hadn't been out on a mission for a long time; Klein, meanwhile, was still a beginner, a true novice in every sense of the word.

"No one is here..." The tall, thin man with graying temples and a handheld umbrella darkened his expression. He took off his hat, bowed, and said, "My apologies. I shall take my leave."

He turned around and walked out the door, leaving No. 36 Zotlan Street amidst the pattering rain and whistling wind.

"What bad timing," Roselle sighed regretfully, watching the gentleman depart.

Although she wouldn't get a share of the commission, she certainly wouldn't miss out on a shared feast.

"It can't be helped; the Channes Gate must be guarded at all times," Klein said, contentedly putting down his knife, fork, and spoon. Even the turnip and vegetable mixed soup he didn't particularly like had been finished completely. "Do you want me to send Bright on a mission? Or perhaps yourself?"

Roselle's eyes twinkled as she said with a grin

"Bright won't do, but you can, our Mr. 'Diviner'..."

Before she could finish, she suddenly realized her mistake and quickly shut her mouth. The door had not yet closed; if anyone passing by or visiting heard about Beyonder matters, it would constitute a leak.

"Luckily the Captain isn't here..." Roselle glanced at the door and secretly stuck out her tongue. "Otherwise, I'd have to go through another repentance session!"

Bright and Klein burst into laughter simultaneously. After exchanging a glance, they began clearing the tableware.

Having finished the cleanup, seeing that the torrential rain had not ceased, Klein—who had not brought an umbrella—chose to stay at the "Blackthorn Security Company."

He picked up a newspaper, sat on the soft, springy sofa, and leisurely began his "afternoon nap."

"The airship route from Backlund to Dice Bay has opened..."

"《The Great Detective Manson》 has been compiled into a volume and is about to be published..."

"An advertisement for Logras Weapon Shop? One standard revolver with six bullets for 3 pounds and 10 shillings; one double-barreled shotgun for 2 pounds..."

...

As Klein flipped through the *Tingen City Honest Reporter*, he suddenly spotted a news item

"...The criminals who murdered Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya have all been apprehended. It is believed that the atmosphere of panic spreading through the North, Golden Wutong, and East Districts will be greatly relieved... Mr. Welch's father, the banker Mr. McGwen, has escorted his younger son's body back to Conston City, where a grand funeral is to be held..."

After reading it several times, Klein suddenly sighed

It seems Welch's father has accepted the police's explanation and hasn't hired a private detective to investigate further...

The grief of losing his younger son certainly won't be as profound as my father and mother losing an only child...

His mood plummeted. Klein sat there in silence for a long time.

As for the fact that he hadn't been invited to Welch and Naya's funeral, he didn't find it strange at all, nor did he feel depressed.

Once everything has settled, I'll find a chance to leave a bouquet of flowers at their graves... Just as Klein was about to head to the lounge for a nap, there was a sudden knock on the reception hall door.

"Come in." Roselle, who had been nodding off, snapped awake.

The ajar door was pushed open, and the tall, thin man with graying temples in formal attire walked in once again.

"May I wait here for a while? Your mercenaries—no, your security personnel—should be returning soon, right?" He asked sincerely, trying hard to hide his anxious expression.

"You may. Please have a seat over there for a moment," Roselle said, pointing to the nearby sofa.

Klein, feeling quite curious, asked

"Where did you hear about our security company? Who referred you to us?"

To the point of making two trips in the middle of a heavy downpour and being willing to wait?

Hmm, it must be that the Nighthawk team members have easily resolved difficult tasks in the eyes of others, accumulating enough prestige in this industry...

The tall, thin man leaned his umbrella against the door and walked toward the sofa, answering with a bitter smile

"I visited all the mercenaries—er, security companies and private detectives in the nearby streets, and yours was the only place that still held hope. None of them had any manpower left to take on other tasks... To be honest, if I hadn't run into a delivery waiter, I wouldn't have thought there was a security company here."

...It's completely different from what I thought... Klein was stunned.

Roselle interjected, asking

"Are they very busy? That many missions?"

The tall, thin man with graying temples sat down and sighed

"You are a mercenary team—no, a security company. You must have heard about the home invasion and murder in the Howls District, right?"

Howls District... home invasion and murder... Well, unfortunately, I am one of the parties involved... Klein nodded with a slight sense of heaviness

"Yes."

"Because of the ferocity and cruelty of the criminals, the wealthy in nearby districts, and even the entire city of Tingen, are feeling terrified. Besides increasing their own guards, they have hired a vast number of additional security personnel and private detectives, creating a significant manpower shortage in this industry," the tall, thin man answered logically.

A standard chain reaction... Klein and Roselle exchanged a look, both seeing the self-mockery on each other's faces.

The security industry was entering a "golden age," yet Blackthorn hadn't felt a thing; it was evident how failed this company's management was.

Of course, in a sense, it also proved the success of the Nighthawks' concealment.

After waiting another twenty minutes, seeing that the heavy rain was about to stop, Klein prepared to pack up and leave to practice with his revolver at the "Shooting Club."

Just then, Leonard Mitchell, with his black hair and green eyes, emerged from the partition and looked at the sofa in confusion

"And this is?"

"A client. Is the Captain back?" Roselle asked joyfully.

"Back?" The tall, thin man was stunned.

He was sitting right here, staring at the door; how did he not notice anyone returning?

Roselle's expression froze instantly, and she hurriedly laughed

"As a security company, we don't just have a front door."

"I see," the tall, thin man nodded in realization.

As for the title "Captain," he didn't find it strange at all. Security companies were essentially former mercenary teams or small mercenary guilds; it was quite normal for a "Captain" to appear.

Leonard's white shirt was untucked, and his black vest was worn loosely. He glanced at the tall, thin man and suddenly snapped his fingers

"I am a security officer of Blackthorn. How should I address you? What is it you wish to commission?"

Perhaps having heard of the unrestrained nature of "mercenaries" before, the tall, thin man felt no anger at the perceived insult; instead, he felt relieved.

He watched Leonard sit down and organized his words

"My name is Kelly, and I am the butler to Mr. Wickroll, a tobacco merchant. His only son, little Elliot, was kidnapped this morning. We have already reported it to the police and received sufficient attention, but Mr. Wickroll is still uneasy. He hopes to use your mercenary—er, security personnel's channels, as well as your knowledge of Tingen, to investigate from another angle to ensure little Elliot is safely rescued."

"If you can find the kidnappers' hideout, Mr. Wickroll is willing to pay a reward of 100 pounds. If you have a way to successfully rescue Master Elliot, he is willing to double the reward, giving 200 pounds in a single payment."

Leonard Mitchell smiled leisurely

"It seems Mr. Wickroll only wants us to find the kidnappers' hideout? Otherwise, he wouldn't think his only son is only worth 100 pounds. A tobacco merchant with close ties to the southern plantations wouldn't be able to produce only 200 pounds."

"No, Mr. Wickroll is just an ordinary merchant, not a tycoon. Furthermore, regarding the rescue, he believes the police department is more professional," the old butler Kelly answered candidly.

"Alright, no problem." Leonard snapped his fingers again.

His emerald eyes turned toward Roselle

"Beautiful lady, please go and draft a contract."

"Stop always acting like a poet; in reality, you only recite other people's works." Roselle was used to mocking Leonard, and for a moment, she forgot there was a guest present.

Of course, the Blackthorn Security Company didn't care much about clients; if they had one, fine, if not, it didn't matter.

Roselle left the reception desk and entered the clerk's office, where the rapid *tap-tap-tap* of typing immediately began.

Klein's mouth twitched slightly as he felt they were truly unprofessional.

They didn't even have a standard, ready-made contract!

"This is truly a sad thing..."

"And what's even sadder is that I am actually in such an unprofessional company..."

Amidst his swirling thoughts, Roselle finished a contract that was so brief it only contained a few clauses, and had Butler Kelly and Leonard Mitchell sign it respectively.

Once Kelly had applied the seal, she took the contract into the accounting room to find Mrs. Orianna to apply the "Blackthorn Security Company" stamp—this seal was almost useless; Dunn usually left it in Orianna's care, and on Sundays, he gave it to Roselle and the others.

"I await your good news." Taking one of the copies of the contract, Butler Kelly stood up, removed his hat, and bowed.

Leonard did not respond, remaining silent for over ten seconds as if deep in thought.

He suddenly turned his head toward Klein, revealing a slight smile

"I need your assistance."

"Huh?" Klein was momentarily stunned.

"What I mean is, this mission will be completed by you and me together," Leonard explained with a slight curl of his lips. "I am skilled in combat, shooting, climbing, sensing, and chanting, as well as providing some support, but that doesn't include finding people. You wouldn't want Old Neil to go out in this weather, would you?"

When he said "sensing," his voice became muffled, making it nearly impossible to hear clearly.

"Alright." Klein felt an impulse to try out a new "skill," but also felt a hint of wariness toward Leonard Mitchell.

*Whew, I hope it goes smoothly... I wonder how much my 'Diviner' abilities can be utilized...* he thought with a touch of anticipation.