Chapter 141: The First Night

Chapter 141: The First Night

Touching the “Ninth Law” charm in his pocket, Klein adjusted his height and the details of his appearance until there was no longer any visible difference between him and Admiral Amyrius Leavitt.

He left through the other door of the storeroom and followed the quiet corridor toward the main building of the Governor’s Residence.

Along the way, servants and maids occasionally passed by, but none of them dared look directly at Klein. The instant they saw the naval admiral’s uniform, they all stepped to either side and bowed their heads in salute.

Anyone of roughly the right height could probably put on this uniform and stroll straight into the banquet hall… I have to admit, sometimes playing the role of an important person is easier than playing an ordinary one… Without shifting his gaze, Klein maintained that stern demeanor and walked at an unhurried pace toward the passage paved with black stone tiles.

Beautiful, melodious music drifted faintly through the air. Elegant gas lamps burned along the walls on both sides, lighting the dark surroundings.

Just as Klein approached a lounge, he saw the door open. A man, also middle-aged, walked out as though he had long been waiting there.

He had black hair and blue eyes, and his features bore a fifty to sixty percent resemblance to Amyrius. However, his forehead was higher, the bags beneath his eyes slightly swollen, and the corners of his mouth had not yet begun to droop.

He was Amyrius Leavitt’s youngest brother, Auston Leavitt.

This gentleman had once served in the navy as well. Relying on the merits he had gained in the Southern Continent’s colonies, he had risen all the way to the rank of colonel. Later, having grown weary of military life and owing to political compromise, he accepted an appointment and became governor.

During the five or six years he had spent in Olavi, out of regard for the island’s location and resources, he had promoted the Leavitt family’s large-scale acquisition of fields and manors in the region. In turn, he himself had come into possession of a considerable amount of land.

This was not to say that everything had been acquired purely by the use of power. Auston and the Leavitt family had paid sufficient money, even taking out loans from banks. They had not seized land that originally belonged to the Feysac people at extremely low prices the way others had done on the eastern coast of Balam.

Of course, if he were not the governor of Olavi, if his elder brother were not the highest naval commander in the Central Sonia Sea, and if the Leavitt family were not the Leavitt family, they would not have found it so easy to persuade their targets to sell quality fields and manors.

The test has come… Klein calmly walked over and stopped before Auston Leavitt.

Auston glanced left and right, then said in a low voice, “How is your consideration of that matter going?”

What matter… Klein was first confused, then recalled one of the descriptions in the materials: “If Auston requests a private talk or directly asks for an answer regarding a certain matter, tell him he will receive the answer when you leave Olavi.”

So this really is something Amyrius anticipated. I only need to pay attention to my attitude and tone. Mm, and the unique vocabulary and pronunciation of a Loen noble… Klein gave a faint nod and said solemnly, “Wait a few more days.

“I’ll tell you the answer when I leave Olavi.”

Auston showed no suspicion. He chuckled softly.

“You seem to be waiting for something to give you the strength to decide.”

Is that the matter that forced Admiral Amyrius to act alone? Klein’s heart stirred. In a practiced tone befitting someone of high status, he said, “Put away your conjectures.”

With that, he moved again, walking toward the banquet hall.

Auston Leavitt watched his elder brother’s back, his expression gradually turning cold as he shook his head ever so slightly.

Entering the banquet hall, Klein swept his gaze around, then walked toward the long table where the food was displayed, stopping from time to time to exchange a few polite words with those who approached him.

During this process, he discovered that he did not actually need to understand the topics brought up by the people who came to speak with him. A simple nod from time to time was enough to allow the conversation to continue in a harmonious and pleasant atmosphere until it naturally ended.

Sure enough, the identity of a great figure makes certain aspects of acting much simpler. Correspondingly, though, other matters become more difficult… After pushing through layer after layer of “obstructions,” Klein finally reached the long table.

He casually picked up a plate and reminded himself inwardly that Admiral Amyrius liked fish, beef, and lobster, while disliking chicken and goose. Thus, he avoided the roast spring chicken and Backlund-style roast goose, instead taking steak, pan-fried draconic bone fish, and Olavi lobster baked with cream and cheese.

Because beneath the metal vessels there was either asbestos laid over glowing coals or containers filled with hot water, the food still retained enough warmth. When Klein took his first bite, he was so moved that he nearly broke character.

He struggled to maintain Admiral Amyrius’s image. Holding his plate, he conversed with all sorts of people—port city councilors, naval agents, and others—listening with an extremely earnest manner while occasionally placing a bit of food into his mouth.

He noticed that a young man in formal evening dress had been following him from a short distance all along.

The man’s blond hair was neatly combed back, his hairline slightly high. He had pale-blue eyes, delicate features, and a refined, scholarly bearing.

Exactly like the photograph. Amyrius’s secretary, Luan… Klein restrained himself from glancing at the other man and managed to fill his stomach completely before the banquet ended.

After leaving the Governor’s Residence, Klein boarded a carriage protected by the general’s guards and sat to one side of the liquor cabinet.

The blond secretary, Luan, followed him inside. His leather boots moved soundlessly over the thick, soft carpet until he came to sit opposite Klein.

He sat down, but only one-third of his backside touched the seat.

As the carriage began moving, Luan took a stack of documents from the black briefcase he carried.

“Your Excellency, this is the summary account submitted by the Olavi naval base for the year 1349.”

Klein reached out to take it and casually flipped through a few pages.

What? One roll of toilet paper costs one pound? The naval base’s bathhouse was renovated twenty times in a single year? Klein only did a rough calculation before discovering all sorts of absurdities.

Isn’t this accounting method a little too crude and violent? I could open a class for them and teach them specifically how to make reimbursement claims… Klein seriously considered what kind of attitude he should show.

In his view, the greatest difficulty in impersonating Amyrius lay in deceiving Luan.

This was not because Governor Auston and Miss Cynthia were less familiar with Admiral Amyrius than the secretary. Rather, Auston was his younger brother; even if he noticed something wrong, once given a hint, he might still help conceal it for his elder brother. Similarly, as his mistress, Cynthia depended on the admiral and would be inclined to help cover things up.

Of course, Cynthia might be a spy, or someone being used by spies, but neither possibility was as dangerous as Luan, who was himself a supervisor.

I can’t reveal the slightest problem… What attitude would Admiral Amyrius have toward a report like this? Fly into a rage? Or pretend to fly into one? No, the people at the Olavi naval base wouldn’t be so bold as to submit a report with such obvious problems and treat Admiral Amyrius as though he were blind. They must have some degree of confidence and mutual understanding… Since the materials contained no similar situation, Klein could only make a judgment based on his own experience.

Moreover, he could confirm one thing: the Olavi naval base’s report either belonged to a situation outside Admiral Amyrius’s expectations, or it had been deemed by him to be unimportant, merely a routine item on the schedule that could be handled casually.

Whichever it is, I can respond with the customary posture of a person in power: make no position clear… Klein closed the document and handed it back to the blond secretary, Luan, saying expressionlessly, “Place it on my desk.”

The subtext of that sentence was, “I’ll examine it carefully.” Outwardly, it could be interpreted in different ways depending on the reader’s position:

If the Olavi naval base was launching a surprise probe, it meant His Excellency the Admiral was somewhat dissatisfied and waiting for an explanation.

If this was something both sides had already tacitly agreed upon, then it meant Admiral Amyrius wanted a larger share of the benefits. As for whether that would offend anyone, Klein did not care at all. In a few days, he would no longer be Amyrius Leavitt. He believed the real demigod had plenty of ways to suppress the anger of his subordinates.

In addition, he was exceptionally grateful that Amyrius was not a demigod of the Church of Storms. Otherwise, at a time like this, he would have had to consider whether to directly nod and approve the report, or furiously throw the documents back while casually tossing a few people into the sea to feed the fish.

“Yes, Your Excellency.” The blond secretary’s expression did not change. As though he had expected this response, he put the documents back into the black briefcase.

For the rest of the journey, Klein followed Amyrius Leavitt’s habits, leaning back against the carriage wall, half-closing his eyes as if pondering some matter. In truth, he was thinking about nothing at all.

Luan remained silent and never spoke recklessly.

Iron-black gas streetlamps as tall as people flashed swiftly past. The carriage drove near the naval base, turned in, and entered a house with a garden and lawn.

Just as Klein stepped onto the stairs, a butler opened the door. Servants stood respectfully on both sides.

The living room of the house was elegantly decorated. Landscape oil paintings hung on the walls, and plaster sculptures, plain vases, and other objects were arranged throughout. A faint but lingering fragrance drifted in the air, seeping gently into the lungs.

Klein, who should have relaxed because of this, instead grew tense inside when he saw a beautiful young lady in a house dress approach.

She appeared to be in her early twenties. Her lustrous golden hair flowed down, and when her blue eyes turned toward him, it was as though light was hidden within them. She possessed a woman’s softness while still retaining traces of girlishness. She was Admiral Amyrius’s mistress, Cynthia.

Klein suppressed the discomfort in his heart and made “Amyrius’s” stern face reveal a smile. Then he opened his arms.

Cynthia threw herself into his embrace, stood on tiptoe, and pressed her cheek against his. With a low laugh, she said, “General, hot water has been prepared for you and poured into the bathtub.”

She must have had someone paying attention to when the banquet ended all along… Being a mistress isn’t an easy job either… Amyrius does like soaking in hot water, both to relax and to think… In order to avoid dwelling on the fact that their cheeks were pressed together, Klein let his thoughts wander.

As a man with normal sexual orientation, he should have felt a faint enjoyment alongside the awkwardness at such close contact with a beautiful member of the opposite sex. However, the temporary contract left him without the slightest additional impulse. As a result, only discomfort remained.

“Very good.” Klein offered a word of praise and gently pushed Cynthia away, his hands feeling as if they had nowhere to go.

Knowing that His Excellency the Admiral did not like intimacy in front of the servants, Cynthia naturally stepped back. She led Klein upstairs, brought him into the bathroom, and prepared a bathrobe.

After finishing all this, Cynthia instructed the servants not to come to the second floor unless they heard the bell. She then returned to the bedroom, removed all her clothes, and changed into a pure silk nightgown.

The neckline of the nightgown was cut very low, revealing an enticing expanse of snow-white skin. Between that valley hung a peculiar pendant. It resembled a black rhinoceros horn shrunk down to only the length of a finger joint.

Cynthia took off the necklace and tucked it beneath her pillow. Then, somewhat bashful and somewhat hesitant, she left the bedroom and came to the door of the bathroom where the admiral was bathing. Mustering her courage, she turned the handle.

Click. Her hand froze. She discovered that the bathroom door had somehow been locked from the inside.

With a blank expression, Cynthia instinctively tried the handle twice more.

Click. Click. The bathroom door did not move in the slightest.