Chapter 124: Searching for Someone

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Four
Searching for Someone

Fors flipped through the calendar on her desk and used a pen to mark the approaching full moon.

She had already made up her mind: when the time came, the moment she heard those terrifying illusory ravings, she would recite The Fool’s honorific name and spend that unbearable period of pain above the gray fog.

“Life truly is full of things to look forward to…”

She closed the novel in her hand and prepared to turn off the gas lamp mounted on the wall behind an iron grille.

Just then, Fors’s vision blurred. She saw the boundless gray fog, saw the towering figure seated within the majestic, ancient palace, and saw a man praying devoutly.

The voice entered her ears. She nearly jumped up, both shocked and delighted.

The Trickmaster formula I have bitterly searched for across years was actually found just like that?

The Trickmaster formula I have been chasing through so many different Beyonder gatherings without finding even a clue was actually found just like that?

And less than a week has passed since I made my request!

This—this is the Tarot Club… As expected, it is nothing an ordinary Beyonder gathering can compare to!

Fors sighed with emotion. Restraining her excitement and joy, she responded cautiously:

“Mr. Fool, is that formula real?”

“Yes,” The Fool, who overlooked everything from the high-back chair, said flatly.

Fors abruptly clenched her fist and quietly pumped it twice at her waist. Almost without thinking, she spoke.

“That person is Mr. World, correct?”

“Please tell him that I will find the item he needs as soon as possible.”

After the gray fog dispersed and everything ended, Fors stood blankly for two seconds. Unable to suppress her excitement, she rose and paced back and forth inside her room.

An item from the Sun domain that specializes in purification and exorcism… I have only encountered something like that twice before, but both were bought by others. They may not be willing to sell them again… Mm, previously at the gathering convened by Mr. A, Xio asked a believer of the Eternal Blazing Sun to perform a purification and exorcism ritual. He is at least Sequence 7. He should possess similar items—or at least know corresponding clues… The only problem is how many gold pounds it will cost. Although Mr. World promised to make up the difference, I may not be able to cover the advance amount needed in the beginning…

Fors’s thoughts gradually shifted toward her own financial situation.

She currently had 370 pounds in cash, mostly from the premium Viscount Glaint had paid for the Apothecary formula. Her bank account still held 510 pounds. Added together, that was close to 900 pounds.

A similar item, if expensive, might cost two thousand pounds; if cheap, perhaps five or six hundred. But it might not necessarily be the type Mr. World needed… What if I find something suitable, but I do not have enough money? I can take a bank loan, or borrow at higher interest. As long as things go smoothly, once Mr. World pays the difference, the debt will be easy to clear… Perhaps I can ask Miss Audrey to lend me money for a few days. She has always cared little about money and definitely will not charge interest…

Fors quickly produced a full set of solutions.

At that moment, Xio, who had been out in a quiet place late at night practicing combat, returned to their rented two-bedroom apartment. Seeing that Fors’s room was still lit, she knocked and asked, “Are you staying up late to write the opening of your new book?”

“Eh, Fors, you seem very happy. Did the publisher raise your manuscript fee?”

“No, no, no.”

Fors froze for a moment, then piled on a smile.

“I just received some news—possibly a clue to the Trickmaster potion formula.”

“Really? You finally waited until it appeared!”

Xio did not notice the abnormality Fors was hiding at all.

Seeing her close friend look happy for her, Fors could not help sighing inwardly.

I have already become a member of a secret organization. From now on, I must bear the fate of constantly hiding things from and deceiving my friend…

Is this one of the prices?

…

On Saturday morning, Klein once again visited the inventor Leppard on Sarch Street in Saint George Borough.

Because the bicycle patent had not yet been approved, he only paid the remaining twenty pounds and reminded Leppard not to rashly approach anyone for follow-up investment or cooperation before truly obtaining the patent.

Leppard agreed deeply. Two of his previous inventions had been stolen for similar reasons. Before obtaining patents, the potential investors he contacted had learned the products clearly, then kicked him aside and bribed staff to obtain the patents first.

After leaving Leppard’s home, Klein arrived at the appointed time at Isengard Stanton’s slightly gloomy and dim house in Hillston Borough.

Today was the day the bounty for the serial murder case would be issued!

Passing through the living room and entering the previous sitting room, Klein saw Kaslana and Stuart, the two detectives with whom he was fairly familiar, and sat beside the latter.

“Sherlock, how much bounty do you think we will get this time? It should not be less than the amount for protecting Adol. Of course, I did not do much work, so what I can receive will be limited. Emperor Roselle once said: no pain, no gain.”

Stuart pressed his fist against the beard on his chin.

Klein guessed with interest, “If it is more, perhaps several hundred pounds. If less, it should not be below ten.”

And I am the one receiving the “more” portion… if Isengard Stanton is as trustworthy as he described himself to be…

Klein naturally added that line inside his heart.

At that moment, Isengard, with graying temples and a face so thin its contours were clear, entered the sitting room where the fireplace burned brightly. Wearing a white shirt and brown waistcoat, he held his signature pipe and sat in his armchair, smiling.

“Ladies and gentlemen.”

“I have just returned from the Backlund Police Department. They acknowledge our contribution and believe that we provided crucial assistance in solving the case.”

“Although we did not participate in the later encirclement and arrest, we can still receive half the reward.”

“In other words, we will divide one thousand pounds in cash!”

“Even in Backlund, this is a rather generous bounty. A single detective would have to avoid eating and drinking and sleep on the street for four or five years to save that much.”

The atmosphere in the sitting room immediately relaxed. Everywhere was filled with expectation toward one’s own share of the bounty.

Even Klein was no exception. He was guessing how much Isengard would allocate to him.

At least over a hundred pounds, right?

He muttered soundlessly.

Isengard drew on his pipe, narrowed his eyes slightly, and said with great satisfaction, “Thank you all for your trust in me. I will now make the allocation.”

“The one who contributed the most this time was Detective Sherlock Moriarty. Several lines of thought and ideas he provided allowed us to find clues and step onto the correct track. He is a true reasoning expert!”

“Madam Kaslana can confirm this. I also still have several letters Detective Moriarty wrote to me. Anyone who questions it may take them and look.”

Very fair… He actually did not list himself as the greatest contributor…

Klein instantly viewed the great detective Isengard Stanton in a new light.

No wonder he holds such authority among detective circles!

Seeing that no one raised any objection, Isengard nodded lightly.

“I announce that Detective Sherlock Moriarty’s bounty is three hundred pounds!”

With a rumble, the detectives inside the sitting room began whispering to one another.

From time to time, they lifted their heads and looked at Klein, seeming to finally recognize this outstanding detective praised by Mr. Stanton as a reasoning expert.

What a generous man. A just man…

Klein opened his mouth, but in the end he did not refuse modestly.

Ranked second in bounty were Isengard himself and Kaslana. Each of them received 160 pounds. The remaining detectives divided the final 380 pounds according to different contributions. Among them, even the lowest received fifteen pounds, equivalent to three or four weeks of their usual income. This was the advantage of major cases with high rewards.

Stuart, who received forty pounds, was very satisfied, because he felt he had merely spent two days observing targets—and those targets had not even been the suspects locked onto later.

Of course, he would also have to pay out part of those forty pounds. The informants and helpers who had participated in the matter all had to be taken care of.

After the bounty was divided, Stuart suddenly remembered something. While taking a sheet of paper from his trouser pocket, he said to Klein, “Sherlock, I recently accepted a rather well-paying missing-person commission. Mobilize your resources and help me keep an eye out. If you find him, I will not shortchange your share.”

“Of course, no problem.”

Klein answered without much concern.

Stuart handed over the paper in his hand.

“This is the person. He has been missing for nearly two weeks.”

“Because he himself is involved with improper matters or a certain degree of crime, the client does not want us to seek police assistance.”

Klein nodded slightly, unfolded the paper, and saw a black-and-white rubbed photograph.

It showed a man whose hair was combed back diagonally, carrying a bit of casual flair within his proper appearance.

He was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight, belonging to the delicate type of handsome. Yet there was undisguised arrogance between his brows and eyes, a high nose bridge, and thin lips.

“Right, his name is…”

Stuart thought back briefly and said, “Emlyn White.”

Emlyn White…

Klein abruptly turned his head and looked toward Stuart.

“Ah?”

Is that not the name of the vampire imprisoned in the basement by Father Utravsky?

…

Inside Duke Negan’s residence, Audrey, invited to attend an afternoon tea gathering, listened with slight boredom as her mother, Duchess Della, and the others chatted about matters between nobles.

Her gaze swept over the exquisite three-tiered stand and the delicious-looking muffins, cakes, and other pastries of unique shape. Feeling that she had recently been indulging her appetite somewhat too much, she only lightly lifted her teacup and took a sip of black tea.

After a while, she rose apologetically and, accompanied by her maid, went to the washroom.

She had only just come out when she encountered a tall, elegantly dressed middle-aged lady with long, thin brows.

This was Madam Norma, the younger sister of Duchess Della and the wife of a hereditary viscount.

After they greeted each other, Norma looked at Audrey and said with a soft laugh, “I have heard that our beautiful young lady is very interested in mysticism?”

She mentioned mysticism. Could she be from the Psychology Alchemists, here to probe me?

Audrey instantly entered her Telepathist state and lowered her head, answering with slight embarrassment:

“Yes.”