4 Chapter 2: Book of Truth (Please vote and add to favorites!!!)_3

On the gently swaying carriage, Marvin flipped through a notebook in his hands by the sunlight. He maintained the church's operation all by himself, and he was very busy every day, seldom having time to cook. Often, he would have his meals at the neighboring Mrs. Cecil's house, a woman who lived alone just like him. For this, he would pay 10 shillings for meal expenses each week. As for Mrs. Cecil, she was a very kind and gentle woman, and her cooking was not bad, but...

In Marvin's view, the three daily meals in the Kingdom of Windsor were no different from dark cuisine. Edible, yes, but far from delicious.

This was no longer a matter of cooking skills.

Therefore, sometimes, when he was not too busy, Marvin would cook himself, treating himself to a special meal.

The Hansom two-wheeled carriage traveled unhurriedly on the dusty dirt road, while the driver standing at the rear hummed a country tune with relish, skillfully maneuvering the carriage to avoid pedestrians crossing the road. It was only when a Clarence four-wheeled carriage passed by that he would stop humming, cast a sidelong glance at it, and mutter "idiot" under his breath ever so softly.

To this, Marvin had long since grown accustomed. Although not enemies, the relationship between the two- and four-wheeled carriages was far from amicable; the former thought the four-wheeled carriages were noisy, gloomy, and uncomfortable, fit only for fools, while the latter saw the two-wheeled carriages as simpletons lying in the cold wind eating dust, utterly lacking in elegance.

Perhaps both were right, or perhaps neither was.

At 3:30 in the afternoon, blessed with rare sunshine, the Hansom two-wheeled carriage arrived at Bil Market in the southernmost part and slowed to a stop at the street corner. The driver jumped down from the rear of the carriage and personally opened the door for Marvin, "Priest, the fare is nine pence."

The base fare for a two-wheeled carriage was six pence, and that price covered anything within a three-kilometer range. Beyond three kilometers, the fare was calculated at three pence per kilometer. A four-wheeled carriage cost twice as much, the same as the prices in the King's Capital.

Marvin pulled out his wallet, took out nine copper coins that bore the image of Rod IV just like the shillings, and handed them to the driver.

"I wish you well."

Once the driver confirmed the count was correct, he carefully pocketed the coins inside his coat, quickly climbed back into the rear of the carriage, tipped his hat to Marvin, turned the carriage around, and hurried away.

He did not expect to pick up any passengers in Bil Market; in the poor district, not many could afford a carriage ride. It was near Ross Avenue where good pickings were to be had.

The air was tinged with coal ash and a peculiar stench, the ground was wet, and in a dark and damp nearby alley, a group of idle men in ill-fitting velvet jackets stared intently at Marvin.

However, after a few looks, they withdrew their gaze and let this well-dressed 'fat sheep' pass.

Because several children, dressed similarly to those men and looking around 12 or 13, faces dirty, ran up to Marvin.

"Priest!"

The leader was a freckle-faced boy named Maiti, who had grown up in an orphanage and started working at the age of nine. Perhaps due to not getting much sunlight, his complexion looked pale and his body as thin as a beanpole, but his gray eyes were intense with vitality.

Following him were two boys and a girl, all about the same age as Maiti.

"Maiti, Amo, Frederick, Sara..." Marvin read their names and smiled, "Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon, Priest!" The four echoed in unison.

"Didn't you go to work at the clothing factory?"

Marvin asked curiously, "Without you sweeping up the fluff and filling the bobbins, those huge hand-operated spinning machines just won't work properly."

"Mr. Albert got a new kind of loom, it needs half a day to set it up and adjust it, so all the workers have the day off!"

The girl with the ponytail, Sara, replied, "There's nothing that needs help at the orphanage, so Maiti suggested we come to the market..."

"Sara!"

At Maiti's loud scolding, Sara shrank back and stopped speaking in time.

Marvin didn't need her to say it; he knew what Maiti and the others were doing at the market.

The orphanage was filled mostly with children who lacked the ability to work and were waiting to be adopted. It was not easy to feed so many, so older children like Maiti had to work outside to earn some extra money.

Mr. Albert Hausen was indeed a conscientious employer, but his factory was just a small workshop, and he could only pay these odd-job kids 8 shillings a week. With just 1 pound and 12 shillings in a month, the majority of the wage had to be handed over to the matrons of the orphanage. Therefore, Maiti and the others would take advantage of their rest time to go to the crowded market and engage in petty theft.

Marvin, of course, knew stealing was wrong, and Maiti and the others knew it too, but what could they do?

Preaching morality to a hungry stomach is in itself immoral.

"You've come at the right time,"

said Marvin, "Last time you helped me clean the church, so this time I want to treat you to something to eat. What would you like?"

Sara's eyes lit up, "Bread with lots and lots of sweet butter!"

"Alright, let's go,"

Marvin said, taking Sara's small hand and leading Maiti and the others through the bustling market to Mrs. Melf's Bakery.

Upon entering, they were greeted by the rich aroma of wheat.

"Welcome..."

Mrs. Melf, busy behind the counter, heard the bell at the door, immediately put aside the dough she was kneading, took off her flour-covered sleeve protectors, lifted the curtain, and came out from the back room.