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Mysterious realm

In the surge of steam and machinery, who can grasp the extraordinary? Amidst the fog of history and darkness, who whispers in the ear? I awaken from the enigma, opening my eyes to behold this world: Firearms, cannons, colossal ships, airships, differential engines; alchemy, divination, curses, hanging men, sealed objects... Light still shines, mystery never far away, this is a tale of "The Fool."

jojokria · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
55 Chs

030 New beginning

The buildings at 2, 4, and 6 Narcissus Street are terraced structures with polygonal mansard roofs, their overall appearance in shades of grey-blue, with three prominent chimneys rising above.

Certainly, there are no lawns or gardens here, nor are there any porches; the entrance directly faces the street.

Scott from the "Tingen Housing Improvement Company" held a string of copper keys as he opened the gate, introducing, "Our terraced houses do not have a foyer; upon entry, you find yourself in the living room, which features a bay window facing Narcissus Street, providing ample natural light..."

What met Klein, Benson, and Melissa's eyes were a set of fabric sofas bathed in golden sunlight, along with a spaciousness comparable to their previous two-bedroom home.

"This living room can also serve as a parlour; to its right is the dining room, and on the left wall, there's a large fireplace for winter warmth," Scott expertly pointed out.

Klein glanced around, confirming the rough open-plan layout; there was no partition between the dining room and living room, but they were distant from the bay window, rendering them rather dim.

There stood a small rectangular red wooden table, surrounded by six cushioned hardwood chairs, while the fireplace on the left wall resembled those seen in foreign movies and TV shows Klein had watched before.

"The kitchen is behind the dining room, but we don't provide any utensils; opposite the living room are a small guest room and a washroom..." Scott continued, detailing the layout of the rest of the ground floor.

The washroom was divided into two sections, with the outer area for washing up, and inside, there was a toilet, separated by a folding door. Though the guest room was described as small, it was about the size of Melissa's current living space, leaving her somewhat stunned.

After inspecting the ground floor, Scott led the trio to the staircase beside the washroom:

"Downstairs is a cellar, the air inside can be quite stale, so remember to ventilate before entering."

Benson nodded subtly, following Scott down to the second floor.

"To my left is a washroom, with two bedrooms on the same side, and to my right, the layout is the same, but the washroom is near the small balcony," Scott explained as he opened the washroom door, stepping aside to allow Klein, Benson, and Melissa an unobstructed view.

This washroom had a bathtub in addition to the toilet, with a folding door beside it. Although it was a bit dusty, there were no other dirty spots, and it didn't smell foul or feel cramped.

Melissa gazed at the room in a daze until Scott moved on to the adjacent bedroom, prompting her to collect herself and follow along.

After a few steps, she looked back again.

Seeing the worldlier Klein also quite pleased and expectant, Benson keenly observed the surroundings, as the communal washrooms, despite frequent supervision by the landlord, were still not clean enough and often made people feel nauseous, especially during impatient moments or when queues formed.

The other washrooms were similar to this one, with four bedrooms, only one slightly larger with a bookshelf, while the others were approximately the same size, each furnished with a bed, desk, and wardrobe.

"The balcony is small, so you can't hang too much laundry each time," Scott stood at the end of the corridor, pointing to a place divided by a door and lock, "Here, there are complete facilities like drainage pipes, gas pipes, and meters, very suitable for gentlemen and ladies like yourselves to live in, with a weekly rent of 13 sous and 5 pence for furniture usage, plus a four-week deposit."

Before Benson could speak, Klein curiously surveyed the surroundings, asking, "If one were to purchase this house, roughly how many pounds would it cost?"

As a time-traveler from a nation of epicures, the desire for homeownership had always lingered in his heart.

Upon hearing this question, both Benson and Melissa were taken aback, looking at Klein with eyes that resembled those gazing upon a peculiar creature. Scott, however, firmly replied, "Purchase? No, we do not sell properties, only provide leases."

"I just wanted to know, you see? Just to know," Klein awkwardly explained.

Scott hesitated for a moment before stating, "Last month, the owner of 11 Narcissus Street happened to sell a similar house, with a leasehold of 15 years for 300 pounds, which is much cheaper than renting directly. However, not everyone can come up with such a large sum of money at once. If you were to fully purchase it, the owner's asking price is 850 pounds."

850 pounds? Klein quickly began mental calculations:

My weekly wage is 3 pounds, Benson's is 1 pound 10 sous... Rent is 13 sous, plus nearly 2 pounds for food each week, not to mention clothing expenses, transportation costs, social interactions, etc. etc., at most, we can save about a dozen sous per week, around 35 pounds a year... 850 pounds would probably take more than twenty years... even if it's the 300 pounds for the leasehold, it would still take at least eight or nine years... and that's not even considering future events like marriage, splitting households, having children, traveling, etc...

In a world without personal housing loans, most people probably could only choose to rent...

Realizing this, he took a step back, glanced at his brother Benson, and gestured for him to negotiate the rental price.

As for Melissa's preference, it was evident from her bright eyes!

In that moment, Klein had a feeling of "close the door, release Benson."

Benson, without his silver-capped cane, pointed around and calmly remarked, "We should take a look at other houses. The dining room here has poor lighting, the balcony is too small, and as you can see, only one bedroom has a fireplace, plus most of the furniture is too old. We would have to replace more than half of it once we move in..."

He listed a series of flaws at a moderate pace, successfully "persuading" Scott to lower the price to a rent of 12 sous, a furniture usage fee of 3 pence, and rounding the deposit down to 2 pounds.

Without wasting any more time, the three siblings followed Scott back to the "Tingen Housing Improvement Company," signed two copies of the contract, and went to the Tingen City Notary Office to have it notarized.

After paying the deposit and the first week's rent, Klein and Benson had 9 pounds 2 sous and 8 pence left.

Standing at the door of 2 Narcissus Street, each holding a string of copper keys, they found themselves unable to look away for a moment, their emotions swirling.

"It feels like we're in a dream..." After a while, Melissa lifted her head, looking towards the "Moretti household" ahead, her voice soft and drifting.

Benson sighed and smiled, "Then let's not wake up."

Klein wasn't as sentimental as them; he nodded and said, "We need to change the locks on the front door and balcony door as soon as possible."

"No rush for that; the Tingen Housing Improvement Company has an excellent reputation. The remaining expense is for your formal attire, but before that

, we need to visit Mr. Frank," Benson pointed in the direction of the apartment.

...

After having a makeshift meal of rye bread at home, the three siblings went to the terraced apartment on Iron Cross Street, where they knocked on the landlord's door.

"You should know my principle; I absolutely do not tolerate rent arrears!" Mr. Frank, a short man, declared authoritatively from his sofa.

Benson leaned forward, smiling as he spoke, "Mr. Frank, we're here to terminate the lease."

So direct? Is this negotiation really appropriate? Klein listened with surprise.

On the way here, Benson had mentioned that his bottom line was compensating with 12 sous.

"Terminate the lease? No! We have a contract, still half a year left!" Mr. Frank glared at Benson, waving his arms.

Benson looked at him seriously, waiting for him to calm down before speaking steadily, "Mr. Frank, you should know, you could be earning more."

"Earning more?" Mr. Frank touched his thin face, quite interested as he asked.

Benson sat upright, smiling as he explained, "You rent this two-bedroom apartment to three of us for 5 sous and 6 pence, but if you were to rent it to families with five or six members, and have two or even three working households, I believe they would be willing to pay more than that, rather than living in the poorly secured areas downtown, 5 sous and 10 pence, or even 6 sous. I think that's a reasonable price."

Seeing Mr. Frank's eyes light up and his throat move, Benson continued, "Moreover, you must be aware that in recent years, rent prices have been steadily rising. The longer we stay, the more you lose."

"But... I need time to find new tenants." Mr. Frank, who inherited the apartment as part of his inheritance, seemed tempted.

"I believe you'll find them soon; you have the ability and resources. Perhaps two days, maybe three... We'll compensate you for this time with our deposit, 3 sous. That's fair!" Benson decisively sealed the deal.

Mr. Frank nodded satisfactorily, "Benson, you're a conscientious and honest young man. Well, let's sign the 'Contract Termination.'"

Klein, standing aside, was bewildered, fully understanding Mr. Frank's easy "persuasion."

Was it really that easy to persuade him?

Solving the issue of the previous contract, the three siblings first helped Klein buy formal attire, then began the busy task of moving.

They didn't have any heavy or bulky items, as those belonged to Mr. Frank, so Benson and Melissa jointly "rejected" Klein's idea of hiring a carriage and instead decided to do it themselves, shuttling back and forth between Narcissus Street and Iron Cross Street.

With the sun slanting through the window, casting a golden hue tinged with the scent of burning, Klein looked at the neatly arranged books and notes on the desk, placing his inkwell and pen gently on the wiped-clean surface.

Finally finished... he sighed, feeling the rumble in his stomach, rolled down his sleeves, and walked towards the door.

He now had a bed that belonged solely to him, with white sheets and blankets, old but clean.

Twisting the doorknob, Klein stepped out of the bedroom, just about to speak when he saw the two opposite doors swing open simultaneously, revealing the figures of Benson and Melissa.

Seeing the gray dust and dirt on each other's faces, Klein and Benson suddenly burst into laughter, laughing unusually freely.

Melissa nibbled her lip, gradually infected by their mirth, expressing her amusement softly.

...

The next morning.

Klein stood before the mirror, his attire flawless, meticulously adjusting the collar and cuffs of his shirt.

This ensemble consisted of a white shirt, a black tailcoat, a half-high silk hat, black waistcoat and trousers, leather boots, and a cravat, costing him a total of 8 pounds, which pained him deeply.

But the effect was excellent; Klein felt he exuded a scholarly aura in the mirror, even a bit handsome.

Snap!

He closed his pocket watch and stashed it in the inner pocket, then picked up his cane, concealed his revolver, and boarded the public tram to Zoltan Street.

It wasn't until he was about to enter the "Blackthorn Security Company" that he realized he had forgotten to give Melissa extra money this morning, letting her walk to school as usual.

Shaking his head, he made a mental note, then entered the "Blackthorn Security Company," where he saw the chestnut-haired girl, Rosanne, brewing coffee, filling the air with a rich aroma.

"Good morning, Klein, the weather is nice today, isn't it?" Rosanne greeted with a smile, "Honestly, I've always wondered, don't you gentlemen feel hot in such formal attire on days like this? I know Tingen's summer can't compare to the south, not that hot, but it's still summer, isn't it?"

"It's the price of style," Klein humorously replied, "Good morning, Miss Rosanne. Where's Captain?"

"In his usual place," Rosanne pointed inside.

Klein nodded imperceptibly, knocked on the door of Duncan Smith's office through the partition.

"Come in." Duncan's voice and tone remained as deep and gentle as ever.

Seeing Klein indeed in a new set of decent attire, he nodded slightly, his gray eyes smiling as he said, "Have you made your decision?"

Taking a deep breath, Klein answered solemnly, "Yes, I've made my choice."

Duncan slowly straightened up, his expression quickly turning serious, his gray eyes deep and unwavering as he asked, "Tell me your answer."

Without hesitation, Klein replied decisively, "Fortune Teller!"