Chapter 7: Those Encountered and Those Missed

Chapter 7: Those Encountered and Those Missed

Inside Saint Samuel Cathedral’s great prayer hall.

The short black-haired bishop withdrew his gaze, no longer looking at the middle-aged gentleman before the offering box. Nor did he develop any thought of going over to speak with him.

Here, before the altar, he represented the Church and stood beneath the Goddess’s watch. It was impossible for him to treat anyone warmly merely because they had donated more money.

Still, he remembered the man’s rather fine appearance and mature, refined bearing. If an opportunity arose in the future, he intended to make his acquaintance.

Quietly watching the last banknote slide into the offering box, Klein closed his eyes briefly, then turned and left.

When he passed the bishop who had delivered the sermon, he deliberately looked at the clergyman, smiled, and gave a slight nod.

The bishop returned a warm smile and tapped four times clockwise on his chest.

Klein did not hurry to make contact with the relevant people. He wanted his actions to remain logical and free of any abruptness that might invite suspicion. Steady and at ease, he turned slightly to let a believer pass, then followed the aisle back to the seat where he had sat earlier. He picked up his hat and cane, then walked step by step out of the cathedral.

At that moment, the believers who had finished listening to the sermon either headed to the offering box to express their sincerity, or rose and left directly. No one found anything wrong with it, because this was not a compulsory act.

Even devout believers who loved making donations did not throw money into the offering box every time they came. They usually did so once or twice every week or two, depending on their family circumstances.

For ordinary civilians, each offering was usually several pence. The middle class gave three to five soli. Wealthy people and nobles counted in gold pounds, though generally not more than 100.

This was the usual situation. Every year, on the Evernight Goddess’s holy festival—the Winter Gifts Day—the amount offered in a single donation swelled greatly. Civilians with spare money would choose two or three soli, the middle class around five pounds, and those of high society would directly donate to the diocesan bishop or Church charities, with sums ranging from several hundred pounds to several thousand pounds.

Winter Gifts Day referred to the longest night of the year and was regarded as the birthday of the Evernight Goddess.

…

After leaving the cathedral, Klein stood near the edge of the square outside and casually watched flocks of white doves flap into the air, circle, and descend again.

He even bought some food from nearby vendors and leisurely fed the pigeons. He had no intention of personally searching newspaper advertisements for a suitable residence in the North Borough, because that was a butler’s task.

An excellent butler who had lived in Backlund for many years ought to know roughly which neighborhoods different nobles, different wealthy men, and the top tier of the middle class who could provide assistance to their master lived in. Only then could he choose a residence with purpose.

Interaction between neighbors was the first step for a newcomer to enter the corresponding circle!

“Whether it’s the Carlton Club where the Conservative Party bigwigs gather, the New Party’s Liberals Club, or the various active and retired officers’ clubs that represent the military, all of them require an introducer with sufficient weight before one can even make contact… Sigh. The kingdom now truly is what they call club politics.” Klein drew back his thoughts and began considering what he should do after finishing the persona-building act of feeding pigeons.

After serious thought, he discovered that he truly had nothing that needed immediate action, because his plan still remained at the surface level.

Therefore, he prepared to enjoy an expensive but abundant lunch. This was both something Dwayne Dantès should do and something that satisfied Klein’s own curiosity.

During the months he had previously spent in Backlund, he had never summoned the courage to experience the metropolis’s most famous restaurants. He had always chosen among his own dining room, the Quelaag Club cafeteria, ordinary roadside restaurants, and Lawyer Jurgen’s family dining room. Occasionally, he would go to the East Borough and resolve breakfast or lunch inside cafés that looked greasy at first glance.

“Lápourie Restaurant? Their head chef supposedly came from Earl Hall’s household and provides wealthy men, great lawyers, and senior government employees with noble flavors they usually have no chance to encounter… Earl Hall seems to have invested in that restaurant and holds no small number of shares… Mm, they mainly specialize in local Backlund cuisine. Their desserts are very famous, and the prices are extremely unfriendly…

“Intis Serenzo Restaurant. It has the most authentic Intis cuisine. Heh, quite a few of its signature dishes use Roselle’s name, claiming to have been passed down from that emperor’s court… And unlike most restaurants of the same level, which offer only a few main courses to choose from each day, its variety is very rich…” Klein recalled information about top restaurants he had previously read in newspapers and magazines. In the end, he decided to experience the Emperor’s court cuisine.

He no longer lingered. He hailed a carriage and headed to the Intis Serenzo Restaurant in the West Borough.

Upon reaching the entrance, Klein handed his coat, hat, and cane to a waiter in a red waistcoat while asking, “Do you still have a table? I have no reservation.”

“We do.” The red-waistcoated waiter showed no abnormal reaction. With a humble attitude, he asked, “Sir, is this your first visit? Are you dining alone?”

Klein nodded calmly and said with a smile, “Yes.”

“Then might I have the honor of introducing our restaurant’s most distinctive dishes and famous wines?” the red-waistcoated waiter said while leading the guest inside.

“That is exactly what I need.” Through the richly decorated doorway, Klein saw walls that seemed to reflect golden light.

For an instant, he felt as though he had stepped into a vault.

Only then did he notice the oil paintings hanging on the walls, the marble statues placed at appropriate spots, and the golden objects inlaid or embellished in different places.

“Please watch your step,” the red-waistcoated waiter reminded him, then led Klein to a window seat. From a distant ensemble, the beautiful melody of violins drifted over.

The waiter brought over the menu and wine list, flipping through them as he introduced, “Our most famous dishes include red-braised Dagia short ribs, black truffles with porcini mushrooms, and Intis-style foie gras. I should particularly mention that the foie gras comes from Bonas Estate in Intis Kingdom’s Champagne Province…”

As Klein listened to the waiter’s introduction, he browsed the menu written in ancient Feysac and found his eyes drawn to the prices.

After finishing the introduction of main courses, appetizers, desserts, and other items, the waiter turned to the appropriate wine pairings. At the end, he said, “All of our champagne, red wine, and white wine come from renowned wineries in Champagne Province. We even have 1330 Aurmir red wine. It is valued at 126 pounds. If you purchase it, you may take it away directly, or store it here and drink a glass each time you visit.”

126 pounds… That’s enough for me to hire an excellent butler… Heh… Klein smiled with great refinement.

“Your dishes and wines are all outstanding. It makes choosing difficult.”

The red-waistcoated waiter smiled attentively.

“You may choose today’s chef’s recommendation. Our head chef will pair a pure and delicious Intis feast for you. We have three plans: 15 pounds, 10 pounds, and 8 pounds.”

I don’t want to choose any of them… Klein leaned back slightly and smiled.

“The 15-pound one.”

“Very good.” The red-waistcoated waiter gathered up the menu and wine list and headed toward the kitchen.

Klein inhaled, slowly exhaled, and casually surveyed the area ahead.

Suddenly, he saw a somewhat familiar figure. It was a lady wearing an olive-green dress.

She was tall, with excellent proportions, and wore an old-fashioned black soft hat. A thin veil with fine latticework hung down, concealing her face.

As a Faceless, Klein possessed a strong ability to distinguish human external characteristics. He immediately recognized who the lady was:

The Queen of Mysteries, Emperor Roselle’s eldest daughter, Bernadette Gustav!

He did not hastily retract his gaze. Instead, he naturally moved his line of sight to the side. Bernadette seemed not to notice anything unusual and disappeared at the stairway.

Why would she be here? Right, this restaurant’s signature is Emperor Roselle’s court cuisine. Heh, it isn’t remotely the Chinese-style food I imagined. The Emperor probably didn’t know how to cook and at most explained some concepts. This place does indeed have stir-fried dishes… Mm, could she be the owner behind the scenes? If she isn’t drifting on the sea, why did she come to Backlund? Didn’t she already find the chivalrous bandit Black Emperor? Klein sat calmly on the surface, while one doubt after another rose in his heart.

…

At that same time, on the street, a carriage was heading toward Intis Serenzo Restaurant.

Inside sat the family of Dr. Allen Kriss. This renowned surgeon was a member of the Quelaag Club and a friend of Sherlock Moriarty. He had once entrusted the great detective with handling the Will Auceptin incident.

Ever since his wife became pregnant, he had felt that his luck had become rather good. His career improved day by day, his income increased month by month, and recently he had successfully completed Baron Syndras’s internal-organ surgery, winning the appreciation of the newly ennobled noble. Baron Syndras had invited his family to Serenzo Restaurant for lunch.

“I heard the ice cream inside is quite good,” Allen said to his wife with reserved pride.

His wife was a black-haired beauty, and her belly was already very obvious. She smiled gently.

“I look forward more to Emperor Roselle’s court cuisine.”

Allen gave an “Mm” and turned his head to glance out the window.

“We’re almost there.”

He had only just finished speaking when his wife covered her stomach and knitted her brows.

“It hurts a little.”

Allen, who was not becoming a father for the first time, hurriedly checked and found no issue. Yet his wife grew increasingly uncomfortable, as though the child in her belly were causing trouble.

“I—I’d better not go. I want to return home and rest,” Allen’s wife suggested.

Allen thought for a moment.

“I’ll accompany you back.”

He immediately instructed his personal valet, “Get off here and go to the restaurant to apologize to Baron Syndras on my behalf.”

Once the carriage began returning, Allen’s wife’s discomfort inexplicably eased. By the time they entered the house, everything had already returned to normal.

Half amused and half exasperated, she pointed at her belly and said to her husband, “It seems he doesn’t want ice cream.”

Achoo! Inside Intis Serenzo Restaurant, Klein, who had spared none of the food that had come before, was both pained and satisfied as he enjoyed the ice cream. Midway, his nose itched a little. He took out a paper and sneezed.

…

West Borough, inside a gloomy house.

Fors, having advanced to Astrologer, was actively and seriously attending various Beyonder gatherings, searching for opportunities to earn money.

At present, she owed Xio 220 pounds, to the point that her good friend suspected her of participating in illegal gambling.

I can’t even afford the crystal ball I need… As her thoughts drifted, Fors suddenly heard one of the gathering members speak.

“I want to sell a Moon Puppet.”