041 Audrey and her Suzie

After pouring the coffee, Klein grabbed the thick stack of historical materials and explanatory drafts organized by Old Neil and headed towards the staircase leading to the Black Briar Security Company.

　　Drip, drip, drip, the sound of footsteps echoed in the sealed and silent underground.

　　Klein walked up the winding stairs, pushed open the door, glanced around, and headed straight for the second office across the hall.

　　After two days of familiarization, he had roughly figured out the layout of the Black Briar Security Company:

　　Upon entry was the spacious reception hall, with a set of sofas and tables and chairs. Through the partition was the inner area. The three rooms on the left side of the corridor, from near to far, were Mrs. Olyana's accounting office, a rest room with several sofa beds, and the staircase leading to the underground.

　　On the right side, the three rooms from near to far were Captain Dune. Smith's office, the office of the clerical staff equipped with typewriters, and the entertainment room for the formal members of the Night Watch team.

　　Klein had previously seen Leonard Mitchell playing cards in the entertainment room with two other team members. He guessed it was Landlord, of course, Russell the Great had renamed it "Fight Evil," but the gameplay was no different from what Klein knew.

　　Brett, who was on duty that night, would have a day's sleep allowance, Rosanne would stay at the reception desk, in charge of purchasing, applying for supplies, and part-time carriage driver. Francis the Zeal Francis would continue to go out as usual. When Klein pushed open the door of the clerical staff's office, all three tables inside were empty, and the purely mechanical typewriter stood quietly.

　　"Akson Company's 1346 typewriter..." Klein muttered, having seen similar items in the mentor's office and Welch's house, feeling that the vaguely visible complex control system was full of mechanical beauty.

　　He sat down at the desk with the typewriter and took a moment to try virtual typing.

　　At first, he always instinctively processed it into Pinyin, but when he became familiar with it, he would "digest" the corresponding memory fragments of the original owner and no longer make mistakes.

　　Drip, drip, drip!

　　The rhythmic tapping of the keyboard was like a rigid melody from metal and industry. Accompanied by this melody, Klein quickly prepared the application for funds.

　　But instead of rushing to find Dune. Smith, he restrained his emotions and seriously read the historical materials provided by Old Neil, both as a review and a learning process.

　　As noon approached, he stretched his neck, put away the materials, and according to the draft of the "Mystery Studies" course, he reviewed and consolidated the content he had learned in the morning.

　　Until then, he picked up the "application" and came to the next office, gently knocking on the door.

　　Dune was waiting for lunch to be served. After seeing the document handed over by Klein, his mouth slightly curved up:

　　"Old Neil taught you?"

　　"Yeah." Klein didn't hesitate to betray Old Neil.

　　Dune picked up the dark red pen and quickly signed his name, saying:

　　"It's time to apply for funding from the church and the county police department for July, August, and September. I'll include yours in it, and you can come to Mrs. Olyana to withdraw it after it's approved. You can pick up the pendulum in the afternoon."

　　"Okay." Klein replied succinctly and powerfully.

　　His tone and gaze were both filled with obvious joy.

　　Before leaving, he casually asked:

　　"The funding for July, August, and September should have been applied for and completed in June, right?"

　　How could it be that it wasn't until July that funding for July was applied for?

　　Dune was silent for a few seconds, picked up his coffee cup, took a sip, and said:

　　"In June, three consecutive cases kept us busy, and some things were forgotten because of the busyness."

　　Sure enough, the captain with poor memory... Klein knew he had asked the wrong question, chuckled awkwardly, and quickly left.

And so, he began a simple yet routine life: half an hour of meditation in the morning, two hours of mysterious studies in the morning, an hour and a half of mastering historical materials, a nap in the lounge after lunch to restore energy.

　　Then, he would collect bullets and go to the "Shooting Club" for practice. After practice, he would take a stroll to Welch's residence, change his route, and walk back to Iron Cross Street, saving a trip on public carriage fare. If he still had free time, he would practice skills such as clairvoyance and pendulum swinging, and also buy some groceries.

　　...

　　Inside a well-equipped private chemical laboratory.

　　The tall and blond-haired Audrey stared at the cup in her hand, watching countless bubbles emerge, making the atmosphere serene.

　　In the end, the liquid in the cup settled into a viscous silver-white substance.

　　"Ha ha, I do have a talent for mysterious studies. I succeeded on the first try! I was worried about failure before and prepared two sets of materials!" The girl exclaimed with joy to herself.

　　She neatly stored the various surplus materials obtained from the family vault and exchanged with others, took a deep breath, prepared to close her eyes, and drank the cup of "spectator" potion.

　　Just then, there came the barking sound of "woof woof" from outside the laboratory, causing Audrey to furrow her brows.

　　She gently placed the cup with the silver-white liquid gently swaying inside into a dark corner, turned her body, and walked to the door.

　　"Susie, who is it?" Audrey turned the doorknob, asking the golden retriever sitting at the door.

　　The golden retriever Susie wagged her tail, looking eager to please, and the personal maid Annie appeared in the nearby corridor.

　　Audrey stepped out of the laboratory, closed the door behind her, and looked at Annie, saying:

　　"Didn't I say it before? Don't disturb me when I'm doing chemical experiments."

　　Annie replied with a distressed expression:

　　"But there's an invitation from the Duchess, from Lady Delaf."

　　"The Duchess of Neegan?" Audrey took a few steps forward, closer to Annie.

　　"Yes, she has invited the court baker Miss Vivi and invited the lady and you to taste afternoon tea." Annie conveyed the contents of the invitation.

　　Audrey pouted almost imperceptibly:

　　"Tell my mother, tell her I feel dizzy, maybe it's because of the strong sunlight, a bit dehydrated, please apologize to Lady Delaf for me."

　　As she spoke, she made a weak gesture.

　　"Miss, this is not just afternoon tea, it's also a literary salon," Annie added.

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

　　At the same time, she silently repeated in her mind: If I persist, then I'll faint to show you, the etiquette teacher said I did this move perfectly... Did I just hear something?

　　"Alright." Annie sighed, "Do you need me to help you back to your room?"

　　"No need, I'll tidy up the laboratory first." Audrey couldn't wait to return and take the potion.

　　But she still restrained herself, watched Annie walk away, and then returned to the laboratory door.

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

　　"I forgot that Susie can open doors with handles... What's that sound? Oh no!" Audrey heard crisp sounds coming from inside, and suddenly had a thought. She rushed into the laboratory.

　　What she saw was a cup shattered on the ground and the last drop of silver-white liquid licked away by the golden retriever Susie.

　　Audrey stood dumbfounded at the door, like a statue.

Golden retriever Susie immediately sat upright, looking at her owner with innocent eyes and wagging her tail.

...

In the outer sea of ​​Priz Port, on an island always shrouded in storms, an ancient sailing ship was docked in the harbor.

A man with soft blond hair and wearing a robe with lightning patterns looked at the opposite Alger Wilson, very puzzled, and said, "Alger, you could have returned to the kingdom and become the captain of the Penitents Squad or a decent bishop. Why choose to go to sea and become the captain of the 'Azure Avenger'?"

Alger's rough and profound face showed no extra expression as he solemnly replied, "The sea belongs to the storm, this is the kingdom of the Lord, and I am willing to follow the will of the Lord and patrol this kingdom for Him."

"All right." The blond man clenched his fist and struck his chest, saying, "May the storm be with you."

"May the storm be with you," Alger responded with standard courtesy.

He stood on the deck with only a few crew members, watching his companions leave the ghost ship and go further and further away.

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

Meanwhile, Audrey completed the second preparation with trepidation.

Looking at the silver-white potion, which looked no different from before, she was moved almost to tears.

Taking a deep breath, she quickly drank the "spectator" potion.

...

On Friday, a heavy rainstorm hit Tinggen, with the sound of rain hitting all the windows.

Inside the Blackthorn Security Company, Klein, Rosan, and Brett sat on the sofa in the reception hall, enjoying their lunch on the table.

Because there was only a stove for boiling water here and no way to reheat leftovers, Klein couldn't eat black bread every day or take public carriages back and forth — it would be very wasteful to walk back from Iron Cross Street to Welch's residence in the afternoon and then consider taking a carriage back, so he had no choice but to eat the so-called "office food" with his colleagues like Rosan.

——The nearby Old Veil Restaurant would send a waiter promptly at ten-thirty every day to ask how many people needed lunch. After confirming the number, they would deliver it at twelve-thirty, packed in containers similar to lunch boxes, and come back at three in the afternoon to ask if they wanted dinner and collect the utensils.

This kind of "meal" had meat, vegetables, and bread, although the portions were not very large, it was barely enough for one person to eat. The price ranged from 7 to 10 pence, with different grades.

Klein shamelessly chose the 7 pence option every time, which usually included half a pound of oat bread, a small piece of meat cooked in different ways, a spoonful of vegetable soup with a little cream or butter.

"Today, there is only one night watchman here..." Rosan spooned the soup into her mouth.

"I heard there's a case in Golden Willow District involving elements of a cult, so the police department requested two night watchmen to go over..." Brett put down the bread.

Klein dipped the remaining oat bread into the last bit of meat juice and stuffed it into his mouth without saying a word.

Inside the cuff of his left hand, there was a faintly visible silver chain with a yellow crystal pendant.

Just then, there was a knocking sound at the half-open door.

"...Come in." Rosan paused for a moment, put down her spoon, quickly wiped her mouth with a handkerchief, and got up to say.

The door was pushed open, and in came a man with a semi-high top hat, wearing a black suit with the left shoulder dampened by rain.

With gray hair at the temples, he held the folded umbrella in his hand and looked at Klein and the others, saying, "Is this the former mercenary squad?"

"You could say that." Rosan answered smoothly.

The tall and thin man coughed and said, "I have a task I'd like to entrust to you."