042 Butler Cleary

"Sorry to bother you, but I have a task to entrust... You seem to have come to the wrong place... This security company is just a name..."

Hearing the words of the visitor, Cleary instantly choked back a full load of sarcasm, wishing there were forums and bullet screens for communication.

However, he quickly remembered that he had asked similar questions before, and the captain's response was, why not take it if there's spare time? The money earned could serve as a small treasury for the team and benefits for the participants.

With a thoughtful gaze, Rosanne pondered for a moment and said, "Our security personnel are all out on assignments. The quickest ones won't be back for at least an hour. If your matter isn't urgent, we can consider it."

Among the six official night watch members, Captain Dain Smith had been invited to the church by the bishop, and Leonard Mitchell was standing guard at "Chani's Gate" in his place.

"It's too bad that they're all gone..." The tall, thin man with graying temples, carrying an umbrella, turned pale when he heard this. He took off his hat, bowed, and said, "I apologize for the intrusion. Goodbye."

He turned away and walked out the door, leaving 36 Zotland Street in the pouring rain and howling wind.

"What bad luck." Rosanne watched the departing man with regret, sighing softly. Even though she wouldn't get a share of the commission, she was sure to have a share in a good meal.

"No choice, Chani's Gate must be guarded at all times." Cleary put down his knife and fork contentedly, even though he didn't particularly like the turnip and vegetable mix soup. "Would you rather have Brett go on the mission? Or yourself?"

With a playful smile, Rosanne said, "Brett can't, but you can, our 'diviner'..."

Before she could finish her sentence, she suddenly realized her mistake and quickly covered her mouth, because the door was still slightly ajar. If anyone passing by or visiting outside heard about the extraordinary things, it would be considered a leak.

"Thank goodness the captain's not here..." Rosanne glanced at the door and stuck out her tongue secretly. "Otherwise, we'd have to repent again!"

Both Brett and Cleary burst into laughter simultaneously, exchanged a glance, and began to tidy up the tableware.

Having done all this and seeing that the downpour hadn't stopped, Cleary, who hadn't brought an umbrella, chose to stay at Blackthorn Security Company.

He picked up a newspaper and sat on the soft, elastic sofa, leisurely taking his "lunch break."

"Airship route from Berkland to Dixie Bay opened..."

"The Adventures of Detective Mangsen compiled and about to be published..."

"Advertisement from Logras Arms Shop? Standard-issue revolver with 6 rounds of ammunition, 3 pounds 10 sols, double-barreled shotgun, 2 pounds..."

...

Reading through The Honest Folks of Tingan City repeatedly, Cleary suddenly sighed:

It seems that Welch's father has already believed the police's story and hasn't hired another private detective to investigate...

The feeling of losing a son, Welch's father must be as sad as my father and mother when they lost their only child...

Cleary sat there, his mood suddenly low, not moving for a long time.

As for not being invited to Welch and Naya's funeral, he didn't find it strange at all, nor did he feel upset. He planned to wait until everything calmed down and then find an opportunity to lay flowers at their graves...

Cleary was just about to go to the lounge for a quick nap when the reception hall's door was suddenly knocked on again.

"Please come in." Rosanne's head bobbed up and down, instantly alert.

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

"Can I wait here for a while? Your mercenaries, I mean, security personnel, should be back soon, right?" He tried to conceal his anxious expression and asked earnestly.

"Of course, you can sit over there for a while." Rosanne pointed to the nearby sofa.

Curious, Cleary asked, "Where did you hear about our security company? Who referred you here?"

Having made two trips back and forth in the pouring rain at midday, and willing to wait?

Well, it must be because the Night Watch team members had easily solved what others saw as difficult tasks, earning enough reputation in the field...

The tall, thin man leaned his umbrella against the door and walked towards the sofa, answering with a bitter smile, "I visited all the nearby mercenaries, I mean, security companies and private detectives. Only you guys still have hope. They have no one available for other tasks... To be honest, if it wasn't for a delivery waiter, I wouldn't have thought there was a security company here."

... Completely different from what I thought... Cleary was stunned.

Rosanne interjected, "Are they busy? So many tasks?"

The tall, thin man sat down and sighed, saying, "You are mercenaries, no, a security company. You must have heard of the home invasion and murder case in the Halls district, right?"

The Halls district... home invasion and murder case... Well, unfortunately, I'm one of the parties involved... Cleary nodded slightly with a heavy heart. "Yes."

"Because of the viciousness and brutality of the criminals, the wealthy in the nearby neighborhoods, and even the entire Tingan City, are afraid. In addition to increasing their own protection, they have also hired a lot of additional security personnel and private detectives, resulting in a noticeable shortage of manpower in this industry." The tall, thin man answered clearly.

Standard chain reaction... Cleary and Rosanne exchanged a glance, both seeing self-deprecation on each other's faces.

The security industry is entering a "golden age," yet Blackthorn seems to have no sense of it, indicating how much of a failure this company is.

Of course, in a sense, it also proves the success of the Night Watch team's concealment.

After waiting for more than twenty minutes and seeing that the downpour was about to stop, Cleary prepared to leave and go to the shooting club to practice with his revolver.

Just then, Leonard Mitchell, with black hair and green eyes, came out from the partition, looking puzzled at the sofa.

"Who's this?" Rosanne asked eagerly, "Is the captain back?"

"Back?" The tall, thin man was taken aback.

Sitting here, staring at the door, how did I not notice someone coming back?

Rosanne's expression froze for a moment, then she hurriedly smiled and said, "As a security company, we don't just have a front entrance."

"Understood." The tall, thin man nodded in understanding.

As for being referred to as "captain," he didn't find it strange at all. In the security industry, it's quite normal for former mercenary teams or small mercenary guilds to have a "captain."

Leonard, his white shirt untucked and his black vest casually draped over it, looked at the tall, thin man and suddenly snapped his fingers. "I'm a security personnel at Blackthorn. How should I address you? And what do you want to entrust us with?"

Perhaps having heard of the "mercenaries'" wild ways, the tall, thin man didn't react with insulted anger but rather relaxed.

He looked at Leonard as he sat down, organizing his thoughts and said, "My name is Keli, I am Mr. Vicrole's steward, the only son of the tobacco merchant. Little Elliot was kidnapped this morning. We've already reported it to the police and received enough attention, but Mr. Vicrole is still not at ease. He hopes to investigate from another angle through your mercenaries, uh, security personnel, and your knowledge of Tingan, to ensure the safe rescue of young Elliot."

"If you can find the kidnappers' hiding place, Mr. Vicrole is willing to pay £100 as a reward. If you manage to rescue Master Elliot successfully, he is willing to double the reward to £200." Leonard Mitchell smiled leisurely.

"Mr. Vicrole seems to only want us to find the kidnappers' hiding place? Otherwise, he wouldn't believe his only son is worth only £100. A tobacco merchant with close ties to the plantations in the South wouldn't offer only £200." Leonard remarked.

"No, Mr. Vicrole is just an ordinary businessman, not wealthy, and he believes that the police department is more professional in handling the rescue. The rescue operation, he trusts the police department more." Keli, the old steward, replied calmly.

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

His green eyes turned to Rosanne and he said, "Miss Beautiful, could you please draft a contract?"

"Don't always think of yourself as a poet, in fact, you only recite other people's works." Rosanne, accustomed to bantering with Leonard, forgot for a moment that there was a guest present.

Of course, Blackthorn Security Company wouldn't care much about clients. If they had good ones, that's fine; if not, it didn't matter.

Rosanne left the reception desk and entered the clerk's office, where the sound of typing immediately started.

Cleary's mouth twitched as he watched, feeling that they were so unprofessional.

They didn't even have standardized, ready-made contracts!

"This is really a sad thing..."

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

Amidst his various thoughts, Rosanne finished drafting a short contract with just a few clauses, which Keli and Leonard Mitchell respectively signed.

When Keli stamped it, she took the contract to the accountant's office and had Mrs. Oliana stamp it with the seal of "Blackthorn Security Company"—this seal was almost useless, usually kept by Rosanne and others on Sundays when handed over to them by Dean.

"Waiting for your good news." Taking one of the contracts, Steward Keli stood up, took off his hat, and bowed.

Leonard didn't respond, as if pondering something, and fell silent for more than ten seconds.

He suddenly turned his head, looked at Cleary, and smiled slightly. "I need your assistance."

"Ah?" Cleary was stunned.

"I mean, I need you to assist me with this task." Leonard explained with a slight curl of his lips. "I'm good at combat, shooting, climbing, sensing, chanting, and doing some auxiliary tasks, but not including finding people. You wouldn't want Old Neil to go out in this weather, would you?"

When he mentioned "sensing," his voice suddenly became indistinct, making it impossible to hear clearly.

"Okay." Cleary felt an urge to try out this new "skill" and also felt a bit wary of Leonard Mitchell.

Well, I hope we can complete it smoothly... I wonder how much my "divination" ability can be of use... He thought with a little anticipation.