Chapter 2: Old Friends

Chapter 2: Old Friends

He actually knows me? Does that mean Mr. Isengard Stanton often mentions me as his friend, or does the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom know that I was once involved in the Backlund Great Smog incident? Klein held a smile and nodded without letting any change show on his face.

“Yes. I am Sherlock Moriarty.”

The gray-blue-eyed young man immediately stepped aside and, with a warm smile, gestured for him to enter.

“Mr. Stanton has always been worried about you. He feared you might have met with some accident. Now he can finally relax.”

Klein handed him the umbrella and, while removing his hat and coat, walked into the foyer. At that moment, sensing something, Isengard Stanton set down the newspaper and pipe in his hands, left his armchair, and walked forward a few steps, looking over.

“Oh, Sherlock. You’ve finally returned. It truly has been a long time, my friend.” Isengard, thin-faced with graying temples, revealed a smile and came over, opening his arms as though attempting a greeting embrace.

Klein was not accustomed to this kind of etiquette between men. He barely responded before smiling and saying, “Mr. Stanton, this is not something a believer of Wisdom ought to do.”

The pastors and bishops of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom always possessed a kind of pride from the depths of their hearts and rarely used embraces.

In truth, aside from the rough Feysac Empire and the open-minded Intis Kingdom, this gesture was rare in other countries and regions. It only appeared among very familiar friends.

Isengard stepped back two paces and chuckled.

“No, Sherlock. Toward truly wise friends, we are never stingy with respect and warmth.

“In my heart, you are among the top five great detectives in all of Backlund.”

I do enjoy hearing that! Klein laughed inwardly and asked with humor, “So you rank among the top three great detectives?”

Being praised as truly wise by a Sequence 7 believer of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom really was pleasing.

“I hope that in your heart, I do.” Isengard gave a clever and gentle answer, then invited Klein into the sitting room and had him sit on the sofa.

He himself reclined in the armchair, picked up his pipe, took a deep draw, and slowly exhaled.

“I’m very glad you did not suffer any accident. Both your physical and mental states seem quite good.

“How was your trip to Desi Bay?”

Klein had prepared his explanation long ago and smiled calmly.

“In truth, I did not go to Desi Bay. I circled around there, then went to Constant instead. Heh. I had been involved in some trouble in Backlund before and could only find a place to hide for a while.”

Sherlock Moriarty was a gentleman from Midsea County, one with an accent that was present but not too obvious. If he had caused trouble, hiding back in his hometown was a very normal choice. Constant City was the capital of Midsea County.

“I know,” Isengard answered in a low voice.

He did not ask Sherlock what trouble he had caused. Instead, he smiled.

“In any case, welcome back to Backlund. If you need any help, you may come to me.”

Klein did not stand on ceremony and spoke at once.

“I came to visit you this time for two reasons. First, because it truly has been a long time since we met. Second, I hope you can sell my shares in the Backlund Bicycle Company on my behalf. Heh. All the documents are complete, and no other procedures are required.”

In order to play the role of a mysterious wealthy man and repay the 10,000 gold coins he owed Miss Messenger, he not only planned to clear out and sell the items he did not use much, but also intended to give up the 10% stake he held in the Backlund Bicycle Company. In any case, Sherlock Moriarty would be unable to appear openly for a very long period of time.

“You truly wish to sell it?” Isengard stroked his pipe. “Although I have never been a businessman, I can see that bicycles are a valuable product capable of widespread adoption. Their commercial prospects are like the newly risen sun and have yet to reach their limit. If you sell now, you will lose a great deal of money.”

“Which is why the buyer will certainly be willing to pay a very large premium for that expectation,” Klein said with a soft laugh. “I believe there are many people capable of seeing the bicycle’s value and prospects. Meanwhile, Framy and Leppard certainly will not be willing to reduce their shares at this stage. Selling my 10% for two or three times its ordinary value shouldn’t be a problem. Isengard, the pricing of equity transactions depends not only on the present, but also on the future.”

When speaking to buyers or investors, it is very necessary to tell them an enticing story and paint a beautiful future! Of course, the bicycle’s value and prospects don’t require much embellishment from me. Anyone with a commercial mind can see them. The only issue is the production of natural rubber… Klein silently added two sentences in his heart.

“The pricing of equity transactions depends not only on the present, but also on the future…” Isengard repeated Klein’s words softly. After a pause, he sincerely praised him. “Sherlock, perhaps you should be doing business instead. However, the future always contains many accidents.”

“Daring to take risks is the chivalric spirit of the business world. All right, I admit it. I recently need a large amount of cash,” Klein said with a smile.

Isengard picked up his pipe and took a satisfied draw.

“You have convinced me.

“I will hire specialized lawyers and accountants to determine the Backlund Bicycle Company’s current value, then add enough expectation to sell your 10% stake. The corresponding fees and taxes will be deducted from the cash received.

“Mm… How should I contact you? The lease on your house on Minsk Street seems to have expired long ago.”

Naturally, Klein would not expose his current identity. Prepared for this, he said, “You can publish announcements in papers such as the Tasok Times and the Backlund Daily, saying the shares are being transferred. Let more people know. Competition creates better room for negotiation. Once the sale is complete, publish another announcement saying the matter has been finished and that there is no need to disturb you further.

“When I see that announcement, I will come directly to visit you.”

Isengard was no stranger to remote communication through newspaper advertisements. He nodded.

“No problem. Of course, all expenses will be deducted from the final proceeds.”

Seeing that his main goal had been achieved, Klein stood, extended his hand, and said, “Thank you for your help, Isengard.

“I should leave now. Some matters can be discussed later.”

Isengard did not urge him to stay. He escorted him all the way to the door.

Klein circled to a nearby street, took a rented carriage, and, while admiring Backlund’s nightscape through the sparse drizzle, headed toward the Bravehearts Bar.

He intended to reconnect tonight with the information channels and resources once possessed by Sherlock Moriarty!

After entering that noisy, chaotic bar, he did not go to the counter to order drinks and ask questions. He merely circled the boxing ring once, then prepared to leave and wait in the carriage outside for Miss Sharron to appear.

At that moment, the door to the billiards room creaked open, and Ian, wearing an old coat, came out holding a newspaper.

His bright red eyes casually swept the area, then suddenly spotted a familiar figure. His mouth opened, but he did not say the other party’s name. Instead, he spoke with surprise and joy.

“Good evening, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Not for the time being. I only came to see some old friends.” Klein smiled warmly.

As he spoke, he noticed that the newspaper Ian held was Maritime News. Part of the exposed page showed an eye-catching headline:

“Shocking! Mad Adventurer Becomes Wanted Criminal!”

Mad adventurer… Klein instinctively felt this was related to him.

Ian noticed his gaze and smiled as he lifted the newspaper higher.

“This is a rare timely report from Maritime News, because wanted posters have appeared everywhere.

“The mad adventurer Gehrman Sparrow planned an incident endangering the City of Generosity and has been confirmed to be a member of an evil organization. Thanks to the protection of the Church of Storms and the kingdom’s military, Bayam suffered no casualties in the incident. However, Blood Admiral Senor, who was involved, disappeared as a result. It is preliminarily suspected that he was killed by Gehrman Sparrow.

“Guess how much they’re offering for Gehrman Sparrow’s bounty?

“50,000 pounds!

“That surpasses Blood Admiral and approaches Admiral Hell!”

50,000 pounds… Klein’s heart thumped.

He smoothed out the ripples in his heart and answered with a smile, “Unfortunately, such bounties are rarely claimed.”

He pointed toward the bar entrance.

“I’ll come find you when I have time later.”

“Very well.” Ian did not ask further. Instead, he mentioned something else. “Is Mr. White from the Harvest Church your friend?”

That fellow Emlyn is willing to go out? For those Primordial Moon believers? Klein nodded.

“Yes.”

After saying that, he squeezed through the crowd, pushed open the door, and left Bravehearts Bar.

Once he boarded a rented carriage, Klein turned his gaze toward the window, waiting for Miss Sharron to appear.

Of course, he did not dare guarantee that she was still here. Several months had passed. That lady and Maric might already have changed their usual place of activity.

Silently and without warning, Klein’s spirituality was touched. He turned his head toward the window and saw, reflected clearly in the glass made mirror-like by the night, the figure of a young woman wearing a small black soft hat and a Gothic court dress.

Turning back, Klein saw Miss Sharron seated across from him. Her pale golden hair, blue eyes, and bloodless face were no different from before.

“Good evening,” Klein greeted on his own initiative, no longer needing to play Gehrman Sparrow.

Sharron rose slightly and gave a curtsy, lightly lifting the hem of her dress in return.

Thinking that she might already have seen that issue of Maritime News, Klein, unable for a moment to find a topic for small talk, cleared his throat and went straight to the point.

“I killed Senor.”

“Mm.” Sharron nodded very slightly, indicating that she knew.

Klein smiled and continued, “If Maric still needs a Wraith Beyonder characteristic, he can start waiting and gathering the funds. Once I find a replacement, I’ll sell Senor to him.”

Sharron did not ask what “replacement” meant. She simply answered, “After seeing that news, he has been waiting for your return.”

“Excellent.” Klein chuckled softly and reached to his collar, drawing out a silver necklace. “Senor’s lucky item. You should know its circumstances, yes?”

Sharron gave an “Mm” and waited for Klein to continue.

“Between it and the Biological Poison Bottle, I intend to sell one. Would you, or your circle, be interested?” Klein asked directly.