15 Chapter 15: Friends,Gray Kenigan

Chapter 15: Friends,Gray Kenigan

At the West District Police Station, Reed, with a cigarette in hand, walked into the station with light and leisurely steps.

As soon as he entered the station, he heard the shouts of the three thugs from tonight's incident, along with the sound of whips lashing.

Armed with weapons, they had broken into a baron's house late at night. Not only were they caught stealing, but they also had plans to harm the baron—a crime serious enough to warrant the gallows.

The whipping was merely to teach them a lesson early on: in Rune, nobility is not a group to be trifled with.

"Hard work tonight, you did a great job," said Inspector John with a smile, patting Reed's shoulder. He too had stayed late at the station for this very case.

A baron, and a viscount of considerable status—no matter how small the case, it demanded extra attention, especially when it involved a plot to harm a baron.

Reed chuckled, "I was quite lucky tonight."

"May the Goddess above grant you everlasting fortune," he said, drawing a crimson crescent on his chest. "The merciful Goddess will surely protect each of her devout followers."

After some idle chatter, Reed headed to the interrogation room where the three thugs were held. He needed to wrap things up and compile the night's events into a dossier.

The first thug, who had attempted to escape by jumping, was crouched in a corner, clutching his knees in terror. "Evil spirits! It was evil spirits! They attacked me just now!"

"What evil spirits?" Reed asked, intrigued. He lit another cigarette, crossed his legs on the table, and leaned back lazily.

"Evil spirits, I tell you! They must have broken my legs! Otherwise, I would have escaped!"

"Heh, that must be the Goddess's punishment for people like you," Reed scoffed dismissively.

The man said no more, likely frightened by the night's events, believing it to be the punishment of the Evernight Goddess .

"I felt the power of those evil spirits too!" another thug with broken legs from the jump blurted out in panic.

Reed tapped the table with his right foot and exhaled a ring of smoke. "Even if there were evil spirits, given your crimes tonight, you're well-suited for hellish company."

A nearby officer, brandishing a whip, said, "Cooperate with us, and you'll suffer less. That way, we can finish up and go home to rest."

Soon, the three thugs confessed to their crimes, admitting they were under Andrew's orders and revealed his current hideout was in a pub near Bekland Bridge.

"Good, you can now enjoy a pleasant night, though there's only an hour left until dawn," said the officer, hanging the whip on the wall, its tip still dripping with blood.

"Let me see the compiled dossier."

Reed had an officer organize the dossier, reviewed it twice, found no errors, and instructed the officer to file it away.

"Time for a coffee to perk up."

Reed extinguished his cigarette, stood up, and left the interrogation room for Inspector John's office, where he poured himself a cup of coffee from the southern continent.

He then settled comfortably on the sofa, waiting for the morning shift officers to arrive.

At eight o'clock, Reed opened his sleepy eyes, stretched, and left the station.

On his way home, he passed by Baron Campbell's house, pausing where they had caught the fleeing thug the night before.

The area was open, with no obstructions—why then had the man's legs suddenly broken? Reed vaguely remembered the severity of the fractures, completely shattered, which could only be caused by a blunt force trauma. Could it be the wandering evil spirits?

A chill ran through Reed as he glanced around. The sun was shining, everything seemed fine. He exhaled softly and drew a crimson crescent on his chest.

"Praise the Goddess."

…

"Why wasn't I informed about such a major incident?"

"Don't you consider me a friend anymore?"

"Or do you think I'd distance myself from you because of the Campbell family's downfall?"

In the living room, Hastur sat embarrassed on the sofa, facing the young man with black hair and blue eyes.

Gray Kenigan, his best friend from childhood, was like a brother to him during their public school days. Their friendship had dwindled only after the original owner moved from the Queen's District to the West District.

When Hastur was short on money, he thought of Gray but never sought his help, preferring to turn to the less familiar Grelint instead.

There was a subconscious desire not to trouble his friend, and Hastur wasn't eager to contact his best friend just yet.

After all, being best friends and spending years together, it was easy to notice any changes in each other.

"I'm really angry, Hastur. Don't you think you owe me an explanation?"

"Do you see me,Gray Kenigan, as a friend not worth keeping?"

"Or do you think Grelint is more suitable to be your friend than I am?"

Gray grew more furious as he spoke, unaware until someone told him that thugs had attempted to harm his best friend the night before.

"Have some tea and calm down," Hastur offered him a cup of Earl Grey, speaking softly, "Gray, no one is more suited to be my friend than you. I've always been proud of our friendship."

"Hmph!"

Gray's stern expression softened as he sipped the Earl Grey, waiting for Hastur's next words.

"You know, I've always wanted to be a noble who can handle all affairs on my own, just like you, who at a young age can manage family matters so well."

"The reason I sought temporary help from Grelint was simply not to let money erode our friendship. You wouldn't want me to lose the little pride I have left, would you?"

"Gray, our friendship won't change over this. Surely you wouldn't resent me for not seeking your help, would you?"

In just a few sentences, Gray's anger dissipated, especially with the last rhetorical question, which almost made him doubt if he was the one less certain about their friendship.

Their friendship didn't need such things for proof.

With that thought, Gray apologized, "Hastur, I didn't consider your feelings."

"It's alright, we're best friends after all," Hastur said generously.

"Indeed, we are best friends!"

Gray smiled, and Hastur smiled back.

Although Gray's visit was overwhelming, Hastur, being a lawyer, had a strong ability to persuade others.

After the matter was settled, Gray inquired about Hastur's recent life, and Hastur chose to discuss only the positive aspects.

For instance, he was diligently studying law and had earned Professor Wayne's praise, learning about the law's fairness at the courthouse…

Gray frowned after a while, "It's good to study law and understand the state of the nation, but you don't really plan to become a lawyer, do you?"

"I am considering it," Hastur didn't hide.

"Hastur, that's not good. You're a noble, and you won't be limited to just a baron's status in the future. You should have a broader horizon."

"Gray, I'm more determined than you think to restore the Campbell family's glory. Becoming a lawyer doesn't mean I'll abandon my noble status; it's just a small hobby of mine."

Gray's expression relaxed again, and he tentatively asked, "Do you need me to set up a law office for you in the Queen's District?"

He initially wanted to gift a law office directly but changed his offer, fearing Hastur might see it as an insult to their friendship.

Hastur shook his head, "The Queen's District isn't the right place for a law office. I prefer Hilston District, where business thrives, and lawyers are needed."

"No problem, I'll take care of it for you. Don't be polite with me anymore."

Gray decided on the matter, not allowing Hastur to refuse.

He had already planned to bring a significant amount of business to Hastur's law office in Hilston District. With their family's investments there, Hastur would likely need to hire several more attorneys to handle the workload.

"Alright then."

Hastur sighed, no longer refusing Gray's kindness.

He truly wanted to try and restore the Campbell family's former glory through his own efforts, not through the convenient channels brought by his friend.

But it's quite normal for nobles to help each other, especially when his friend's family was so influential.

Gray Kenigan, his father was the Duke of Kenigan, the leader of the Conservative Party, the largest landowning noble outside the king, and the brother of the current prime minister.

His word could save someone a decade of struggle, or even a lifetime.

Sigh, this feeling of being kept, it really makes one less inclined to strive.

"Hastur, there's one more thing I need to remind you.

Lady Gemanie is nice, but you're still young and unmarried. You should be careful."

"??!"

Three question marks flashed across Hastur's forehead.

He had only spoken to Lady Gemanie once!

During his afternoon visits to the courthouse, he had made sure to avoid her, and his only reply clearly stated his position.

But now, listening to Gray, it seemed as if he had an improper relationship with Lady Gemanie?

How could one tarnish another's reputation out of thin air?

(End of Chapter)