Chapter 171: Promotion and a Raise

Chapter One Hundred Seventy-One
Promotion and a Raise

After leaving Azik’s home, Klein took a public carriage back to Daffodil Street.

Click. He took out his key and opened the door, then suddenly saw a figure sitting inside the dining room.

Klein instinctively tightened his grip on the cane in his hand, but immediately realized that it was not a thief. It was Bella, the maid-of-all-work.

Bella was focused on reading the open newspaper spread across the table. Hearing the door open, she too was startled. She shot to her feet and stammered an explanation.

“I—I just finished the morning work, and I was waiting, waiting for the water to boil so I could eat bread.”

I really still have not gotten used to suddenly having a maid at home…

Klein mocked himself silently, took off his hat, and gave a slight nod.

“Reading is a good habit. Persisting in reading during the spare time left by busy work is encouraged by the Goddess.”

Afraid the other party might think he was mocking her, he invoked the name of the Evernight Goddess.

In truth, only the God of Knowledge and Wisdom placed reading in such an exalted position… Of course, every Church encourages learning… Mm, at seventeen or eighteen, believing in the Evernight Goddess means she is influenced by her parents, and parents like that, so long as they are not completely without options, would certainly let their daughter receive education. If public elementary school was unaffordable, the Church’s free schools would still be possible—at most, she would lose some time… That means Bella is not illiterate. She recognizes words and can read the newspaper…

Thinking this, Klein set down his cane and entered the living room.

His impression of Bella was rather good.

Although the young girl looked somewhat unsuited to the kitchen and clumsy with her hands and feet, she had shown a willingness to learn and an effort to keep learning.

Bella lowered both hands and said somewhat embarrassedly, “I used to, used to almost never read newspapers. The landlord did not allow us to buy old newspapers to paste on the walls… When I picked it up just now to wipe the coffee table, I accidentally glanced at it and thought, thought it was very interesting.”

Poor girl. Back when I first transmigrated here, newspapers were at the bottom of my interesting-things ranking…

Klein silently grumbled. Then he smiled, followed the silver watch chain, took out his pocket watch, opened it with a snap, and glanced at the time. Casually, he said, “As long as you complete your work, and complete it well, you may arrange the remaining time freely. There is no need to be nervous. Of course, if Benson, Melissa, and I are talking, it would be best for you to stay in your room. I allow you to use the gas lamp there and bring a few old newspapers inside.

“Mm. Knock on my bedroom door at one in the afternoon, then prepare for me one cup of Sibe black tea, two soft white rolls, one slice of oat toast, and a small plate of butter.”

To celebrate his advancement to Sequence 8, Klein decided to indulge himself just a little and bring forward the white bread Benson had planned to enjoy on the weekend.

Mm. I will buy eight pounds more later. From now on, the staple food can change from oat bread to white bread! A Sequence 8 Beyonder’s weekly salary must surely rise… The Captain actually did not mention this earlier… He forgot again!

Klein froze slightly, then decided to ask clearly tomorrow.

“Yes. Yes, all right,” Bella answered, both surprised and delighted.

Then she asked with some uncertainty, “Mr. Klein, do you mean the Sibe black tea used for receiving guests?”

Because everyone in the family was surnamed Moretti, she respectfully used their given names.

“Yes. From now on, that will be the tea we normally drink,” Klein said with a wave of his hand, striding toward the stairs.

After becoming a Clown, he suddenly discovered that his financial condition had become very good.

First, he temporarily had no extra large expenses. There remained only the daily fixed two-soli rental carriage cost for investigating red-chimney houses, along with occasional material replenishment. The latter could often be reimbursed.

Second, three hundred pounds was lying quietly inside Klein’s bearer account. One had to know that rural fields and pastures cost only five to six and a half soli per acre. In other words, he could buy nine hundred twenty to twelve hundred acres of country fields or pastures. Alternatively, that sum could let him purchase one Daffodil Street house for fifteen years by leasehold.

If he converted all of it into land, the rent income would be around twenty-three to thirty-one pounds per year… Not bad, but there is no need for that now. That three hundred pounds must be kept for emergencies… Hoo. These two days, I need to find a chance to tell Benson and Melissa my true weekly salary!

Thinking this, Klein entered his bedroom.

After locking the door, Klein sat on the bed and once again began meditating. Through that method, he slowly gained control over the small amount of power overflowing from the potion. He was extremely careful, extremely cautious.

To him, loss of control had originally only been a term spoken aloud, until he encountered that Mandated Punisher.

But he had not known that Mandated Punisher, nor did he know what had happened to the man beforehand. Subconsciously, he had treated it as a special case, something rarely repeated.

It was like seeing a murder case from another city in the news. Most ordinary people would at most sigh a few times, then turn around and forget.

Old Neil’s matter, however, had shaken Klein greatly. It let him understand, clearly and deeply, that loss of control was right beside him, around him, and that it could descend at any time in a form he could never expect.

What a bloody lesson…

Ending his meditation, Klein opened his eyes and silently murmured.

During this period, he often dreamed of that day’s scene. Often, he would wake abruptly in the middle of the night, drenched in cold sweat.

He grieved for Old Neil’s death, and he also worried over his own future. If meditation could not help him fall asleep, he believed he would surely have been unable to sleep on many recent nights.

“Besides digesting the potion, I must also control my own emotions and desires as much as possible, keeping them within a reasonable range and preventing them from corroding me…”

Klein exhaled stale air, lay down, and soon entered deep sleep.

On the day Old Neil died, Dunn’s behavior and words had touched him profoundly, making him seriously examine the responsibilities of a Nighthawk for the first time. He wanted to shoulder his own burden as soon as possible, so that he could help the Captain and his teammates.

Therefore, he did not intend to waste the afternoon. Combat practice would continue as usual.

…

Three o’clock in the afternoon, inside the simple practice yard.

Gawain, whose short golden hair was mottled with gray, frowned as he watched Klein’s movements go bit by bit from awkward to familiar, then from familiar to like those of a trainee knight who had trained for half a year.

And all of this happened within a mere forty minutes.

He called a halt to practice, studied Klein from head to toe, and could not help asking, “What happened?”

Klein had long prepared an explanation that would push his performance onto scientific training. But the moment Gawain finished speaking, he immediately pondered and added, “If it is not convenient to answer, then you need not answer.”

Looks like the corresponding personnel from the police department already communicated with Teacher Gawain… That makes sense. He occasionally trains Beyonders. How could they not warn him beforehand…

Klein sighed in relief, the corners of his mouth rising.

“Teacher, in your judgment, how much longer will it take before I can participate in real combat?”

Gawain crossed both arms, looked at him seriously, and answered in a slightly rough voice, “Two or three days.

“But that is still not enough.”

As though thinking, he explained, “Being able to participate in real combat does not equal being proficient in fighting. The latter will take perhaps two or three more weeks.

“In addition, you must master portable cold weapons, such as cane, whip, dagger, and triangular spike!”

…There are that many more projects?

Klein froze.

Gawain’s gaze, filled with vicissitudes, swept over him.

“You must remember: every drop of sweat you leave here may save your life in the future.”

“Yes, Teacher!”

Klein rallied himself and answered.

…

Saturday morning, Klein entered Blackthorn Security Company and once again knocked on the Captain’s office door.

Dunn Smith seemed to have prepared in advance. He merely glanced up, then began speaking on his own.

“I forgot to inform you yesterday. After advancing to Sequence 8, your position in the police department naturally rises from probationary inspector to inspector. I will have them replace your identification and uniform shoulder badges as soon as possible.

“Your weekly salary will rise from six pounds to ten pounds. The Church and the police department will each cover half. This has reached the level of a veteran Nighthawk—of course, by that I mean a Sequence 9 one.”

…Captain, did you draft that beforehand?

Klein listened in a daze. Then his expression relaxed, the corners of his mouth faintly rising.

“That is more than I expected.”

He had thought his weekly salary would rise only to eight pounds.

Dunn lifted his coffee and took a sip.

“The increase in a Nighthawk’s salary is based on three things: years of service, contributions made, and one’s rank. The third is often closely tied to contribution as well.”

That makes sense. Without merit, even if one digests a potion and reaches the standard for advancement, there is no way to apply for the formula and materials…

Klein nodded thoughtfully.

Ten pounds per week. With bonuses, that is around five hundred and forty pounds per year. Since it requires no tax, such an income is quite good among the middle class, second only to professions close to social celebrity—great barristers, famous architects, senior surgeons, high-ranking government employees, and the like.

Even the deputy director of the Finance Department at the Loen Kingdom’s Ministry of Finance earns only seven hundred pounds per year, before tax. After tax, it would be at most around six hundred and forty pounds… According to newspaper introductions, a good house in Backlund’s West Borough or Hillston Borough costs around two thousand five hundred pounds. If Benson, Melissa, and I maintain our current expenses, we could buy one in seven or eight years… Relying entirely on ourselves and using only seven or eight years to buy a detached house near the center of an imperial capital—this salary really makes a person happy…

Klein rose and took his leave, his steps light as he entered the underground to take his turn guarding Chanis Gate.

Before ten o’clock, he suddenly heard someone approaching the guard room.

Very soon, Dunn appeared at the doorway. His gray eyes deep, he said, “There is a case that requires your help.”

“A supernatural case?” Klein instinctively asked.

“No. Councilman Maynard was discovered dead at home this morning. The Tingen City Police Department is under great pressure and hopes we can help them quickly lock on to the murderer through spirit channeling. Mm, for now, among the team, only you can perform spirit channeling.”

Dunn explained, then added, “The Sanctuary will assign a Mystery Pryer to join us next week. Actually, they should already have done this earlier. It was only because you happened to join and chose Seer.”