Chapter 21: A Bishop’s Visit

Chapter 21: A Bishop’s Visit

By the time the philosophy lesson ended, Klein felt as if he had gone three days and three nights without sleep. His mind was stuffed full of names and concepts: skepticism, metaphysics, a priori and a posteriori, nominalism and realism, social Rosellism, existentialism, positivism, and more.

Had the original Klein not gained some philosophy-related knowledge while studying history, he even suspected that he would not have been able to endure the whole lesson. It was nothing like the non-one-on-one education he had received at university back on Earth, where if he could not understand something, he could sleep, zone out, read a novel, or play on his phone.

“Still, Mr. Hamid is quite different from what I imagined. Humorous, hearty, outgoing, and not boring at all when he lectures. He is neither like a philosophy teacher nor like the believers of the Lord of Storms with their usual ways of thinking…”

Klein raised a hand and rubbed the corner of his forehead. Turning away from the doorway, he walked toward the staircase deep in the hall and returned to the third floor. His personal valet, Richardson, followed silently half a step behind him.

Along the way, he noticed that the male and female servants were all busy with their own work. Not one of them was slacking. Only when he, their employer, passed by would they pause to bow and greet him, appearing very well trained.

Taneja really is capable when it comes to arranging and managing household affairs… Klein stepped into the third-floor corridor and headed toward the semi-open room.

Before he entered, he saw Butler Walter hanging two double-barreled hunting rifles on the wall, adding a touch of rough, heroic air to the room.

This was a decoration every wealthy merchant’s home would possess. Hunting licenses were very easy to apply for, and double-barreled rifles were reasonably powerful—enough for the male and female servants in the household to deal with thieves, or even kidnappers, who might sneak in.

After hanging them up, Walter stepped back two paces and examined the rifles for a few seconds before taking a gold-cased pocket watch from the inner pocket of his clothing.

Click!

He pressed it open and looked toward the inside of the lid. His grave, old-fashioned face softened visibly.

Klein coughed softly to remind the butler of his presence, then pushed open the half-closed door and walked in.

Walter closed the pocket watch, put it back where it belonged, turned sideways, and bowed.

“Sir, six hunting licenses have been obtained in total. We have purchased six double-barreled hunting rifles and the corresponding shot.”

Klein had Death Knell tucked beneath his arm and did not care much about this matter. He merely nodded to show that he understood.

Then he revealed a mild smile and asked as if chatting casually, “When I read the information from the Helping Household Servants Association, I noticed, Walter, that you seem to have a wife and child?”

A butler—or rather, a head butler—was the employer’s deputy, an indispensable confidant in many matters. Therefore, building a relationship with the butler was something every employer would do, and Klein did not wish to be an exception.

Moreover, he still remembered that Magic Mirror Arrodes had said there would be additional developments involving Butler Walter.

Walter answered with his usual solemn propriety, “Yes. When I was working as an estate servant in Viscount Conrad’s household, I frequently came into contact with a lady due to the needs of certain affairs. Feelings grew between us, and afterward, under the Goddess’s gaze, we entered the hall of marriage. We now have a daughter. She is currently studying at a grammar school and hopes to pass the entrance examination for Backlund University, though that is not something we need to consider until two years from now…”

When speaking of his wife and daughter, the tone of this unsmiling butler softened unconsciously.

In the present era, all churches emphasized the importance of family in order to counter the pressure on life and the spiritual problems brought about by the tide of technological progress. The only difference lay in focus. The Evernight Church valued equality between men and women and mutual support within the family. The Storm Church held that men should toil outside the home while women managed the household as supporting angels. The Steam Church emphasized learning more skills, doing more labor, each person having their own expertise and complementing one another.

Klein felt an inexplicable emotion as he listened. He then said, “Madam Taneja still seems to be single?”

“Yes.” Walter’s expression returned to solemnity. “In modern society, male servants and female servants remain unequal. This does not refer to wages. Housekeepers, butlers, and assistant butlers belong to the same level and all earn twenty-five to fifty pounds annually. The inequality lies in deeper principles and ideas. It is an area the Church is devoted to changing, yet one filled with resistance. After all, the Goddess is not Loen’s only faith.”

He paused, then added, “A male servant may marry. But if a female servant has a family, it means unemployment—or becoming the lowest class of temporary hired laundry maid, one who does not need to live in the employer’s house. Only at the stage of housekeeper can this be reversed, and that is not a position a young lady without experience can competently fill.”

Klein did not continue this topic. He gave a light nod and walked toward the easy chair.

At that moment, his gaze swept over the newspapers stacked on the tea table.

His heart stirred. Klein stopped, turned slightly, and said to his butler, “I saw an advertisement in the newspaper regarding the transfer of shares in the Backlund Bicycle Company. Find a professional solicitor and accountant to inquire into it and clarify the specific situation.

“Heh. I am rather interested in this industry. If the price is suitable, I may consider buying it.”

In that instant, Klein had thought of one issue: a tycoon who had brought a large sum of money to Backlund in search of further opportunity could not possibly ignore the transfer of shares in the Backlund Bicycle Company.

Even if “he” could not see the future prospects of the industry, he would normally have someone investigate it. Otherwise, it would not fit his persona.

Of course, this also lets me raise the price a little and sell that ten percent stake for more money… Mm, I have to remember: just push the price up a little. Don’t get greedy. If I push and push until I end up stuck with it, I’ll have no one to cry to. That would trap all my liquid funds and leave me unable to maintain my daily expenses…

While indulging in pleasant fantasies, Klein silently warned himself.

“Yes, sir.” Walter did not ask further and directly accepted the instruction.

At 4:35 in the afternoon, the personal valet Richardson knocked and entered the room. To Dawn Dantes, who was reading leisurely, he said, “Sir, Mr. Macht and his wife, Madam Liana, as well as Bishop Elektra of Saint Samuel Cathedral, have come to visit.”

Mori Macht? That member of the House of Commons? And why is a bishop from Saint Samuel Cathedral here too… Klein thought for a moment and asked with a smile, “Is there such a form of etiquette?”

He had only taken two etiquette lessons for now and knew that among this class, visits were not usually this direct. One first sent a butler or servant over to deliver an invitation or arrange a visiting time.

Richardson habitually lowered his head and said, “There is.

“When the butler delivered your calling cards and gifts, he informed the neighbors that you would be at home in the afternoons throughout this week.

“Under such circumstances, after recipients of the calling card have made inquiries into your situation and observed the corresponding details, they may not only send their servants to invite you over, but also visit between four and five in the afternoon in the manner of having gone out for a walk and happened to pass by. It would be considered a semi-formal call. Mm, a lady would need to wear appropriate walking attire; otherwise, it would be improper. And you may invite them to take afternoon tea.”

As Klein walked toward the door and allowed Richardson to remove his jacket and help him into his coat, he asked casually, “Then why is Bishop Elektra here as well?”

This was what he cared about most. The previous question had merely been a prelude.

Richardson answered as if he had long been prepared. “Bishop Elektra was visiting Councilman Macht’s house this afternoon. During their conversation, they should have mentioned you and decided on the spot to make a walking call.”

His hands were completely unaffected by his speech, skillfully finishing Dawn Dantes’s attire.

Klein gave an “Mm,” and only after Richardson stepped forward to open the door did he walk out.

Very soon, in the small parlor on the second floor, he met the three visitors.

Mori Macht was a typical Loen gentleman in his forties, with black hair, brown eyes, deep features, a high hairline, and a somewhat long, thin face. He had once served in the military before retiring and entering politics. Starting from the area around Backlund, he had climbed step by step until he became a member of the kingdom’s House of Commons. He was a believer of the Evernight Goddess, a member of the New Party, and supported the improvement of air quality.

His wife, Liana, came from a family of senior barristers and had provided many resources for her husband’s political career. She, too, was a believer of the Evernight Goddess.

Elektra wore a double-breasted black clerical robe. He also appeared to be only around forty. His blue eyes were deep, his face thin, and his features were not especially handsome, yet he somehow made others find him pleasant to look at. He was one of the bishops Klein had seen when placing money into the donation box.

Seeing Dawn Dantes enter, Mori Macht took two steps forward and laughed softly.

“These past few days, I have constantly heard that a devout believer of the Goddess has moved into No. 160 on this street, and I thought I must certainly pay a visit. Today, we happened to be walking past, so we have taken the liberty of calling. Please forgive our discourtesy.”

Klein smiled, tapped four times clockwise on his chest, and said, “At a time like this, one need only praise the Goddess.”

“Praise the Goddess!” Elektra and Liana inwardly nodded and likewise drew a crimson moon over their chests.

After the greetings ended, Klein invited the three guests to sit. The maid promptly served black tea and coffee—Housekeeper Taneja had already asked beforehand what each guest wished to drink.

“Mr. Dantes, I hear you are a merchant from Desi. May I ask what industry you were in before?” Mori Macht asked as if chatting casually, then made a small joke. “That surname of yours always makes me think of many things.”

He was referring to the surname of the protagonist in one of Emperor Roselle’s bestselling novels.

Klein laughed and asked humorously in return, “To which industry does discovering treasure belong?”

That, too, was part of the content of that bestselling novel.

Without waiting for the councilman and the others to reply, he began telling the story he had long prepared.

“I once owned mines of my own. But as you know, mines will always run dry one day. Cities born from mines eventually decline because of them.”

He was alluding to several resource-based cities in Desi County where he had claimed to have been born. In those places, gangs ran rampant and hidden tycoons were numerous. If an ordinary person wished to investigate Dawn Dantes’s background clearly, it would be difficult to accomplish in less than half a year.

Bishop Elektra nodded thoughtfully.

“So you chose to come to Backlund in search of new opportunities?

“May I ask who first guided you into the Church?”