Chapter 36: The Returning Doctor

"Detective, you are lucky. If I did not happen to have this relic in my hand, this transaction likely would not have gone so smoothly. After all, for a weak ring-mage, overly mysterious knowledge and overly powerful weapons are equally dangerous... Detective, I will not concern myself with the matter of the Box of Darkness anymore. A pleasant cooperation."

The lady’s words from within the door seemed intended to send her guest away.

Shade closed the ring box and took it from the maid. As the maid turned to head back toward the door, he did not take his leave, but instead composed himself and spoke aloud:

"My lady, I wonder if I might have the honor of knowing your identity."

"You do not have that honor for the time being."

The woman spoke quite directly. Shade thought he heard the dark-haired maid, who was pushing the door, accidentally let out a laugh.

"I know what you are worried about. Now that I know your identity and your appearance, I naturally have ways to find your address and the identities of the correspondence ring-mages in your group... But so what? The most important thing for correspondence ring-mages is not letting the Church know their identities, so do you think I am a person of the Church?"

Just as the woman did not believe Shade was a devout believer of the orthodox gods, Shade did not believe she was one either.

"You may as well tell the correspondence ring-mages in your group about what happened tonight; they naturally know the rules of this city. Including our transaction, you are of course free to speak of it as well. Any other questions?"

She was likely in a good mood because she had obtained information from Shade, even if there had been some unpleasantness at the start.

"You appearing here tonight..."

"Of course not for you. Running into you was just an accident. Appearing in this disreputable place tonight was merely because I heard the club possessed a very rare set of Tarot cards."

"Might I ask which series?"

"It is of no importance now; they were forged Tarot cards."

"Then that is truly unfortunate... Farewell then, my lady. May you be able to touch the statue of that Old God as soon as possible."

This was a reminder for her to go find it quickly, so that the [Blood of Mercury] would not have time to move it, leaving her with no statue to find and a reason to blame Shade.

"Until we meet again, Detective... Come to think of it, I quite admire young people like you. Your reaction just now when the relic went out of control was quite good; most First-Circle mages do not perform as well as you did. If you have any needs, you can contact me through this club. But as you understand, every gift has a price."

"Yes, my lady. I wish you a wonderful evening."

Shade clutched the ring box and turned to leave, but at the threshold, he suddenly looked back at the door, which was left slightly ajar.

"My lady, regarding the [Box of Darkness]..."

"A rare Third Epoch relic. Relics are all formed from the accumulated resentment and hatred at the end of an era, so there is no need to be suspicious if you hear something. The Fifth Epoch was the era of witches, and the war of the final thirteen witch-emperors almost brought about terrible entities from beyond the material world; the Fourth Epoch was an era of darkness and chaos, where darkness shrouded the earth and bizarre things ran rampant in the material world; the Third Epoch saw alien races coexisting with humans, but at the same time, terrifying and strange humanoid creatures occupied most of the material world—those were evil spirits born from whispers. Humans and other normal lifeforms retreated to a corner, protecting one another."

She said nothing more, and Shade bowed slightly to express his gratitude for the free knowledge before stepping out the door.

The maid outside was waiting for Shade and led him from the third floor to the stairwell on the first floor. There, Shade reunited with the dejected young Franklin, and the two left the club together.

Returning from the noisy interior to the misty summer night streets, his suppressed mood lightened quite a bit. Shade remained immersed in the series of events that had just transpired, recalling the moment his fingers bloomed with light and contemplating the details of the transaction. Consequently, the two did not talk much along the way, following the gas-lit street through the quiet night toward the apartment where the Franklin family rented their rooms.

Just as they were about to reach their destination, young Franklin stepped into the shadow of a street-side antique shop sign that the gas lamps couldn't reach and suddenly turned to run. Shade, who had been prepared, immediately gave chase. They hadn't even run half a street before the young man was tripped by the detective’s boots from behind.

"Who exactly did my father find this time? Have you practiced long-distance running? Are you going to participate in the Tobesk Youth Games? What about the last detective?"

Caught by the hands from behind by Shade, he asked these questions breathlessly and hoarsely, eventually losing the will to struggle; the young man was not good at running.

"Still trying to run? Didn't you get caught by the detective last time, too? Uncle Sparrow is dead, and I have taken over his work, but I have never practiced long-distance running."

Shade felt the strength in this body; it wasn't just that of a ring-mage—the physique itself was quite good. He wondered how Detective Sparrow had managed to turn a vagrant into this in just a few months. As for pretending to be someone else's nephew, it really didn't matter, as Shade had indeed inherited all of the detective’s possessions.

"Dead? The guy who pointed a gun at my head and made me leave the gambling table is dead?"

Young Franklin was somewhat surprised, but his tone was full of joy.

"A villain like that, it's not bad that he's dead."

However, according to the records of commissions left by the detective that Shade had looked up, he had taken young Franklin from the underground casinos and clubs of the slums twice, each time relying on the power of his words. Detective Sparrow Hamilton had described himself as the kind of person who was full of charm and quite adept at persuading others.

"It seems his records cannot be entirely trusted... But he did have a gun, after all... Lost it? Or hidden somewhere I haven't found?"

"Come to think of it, how about you let me go? If I win, I'll give you more pounds."

Young Franklin still wanted to break free.

"I truly feel sorry for your father."

"Oh, come off it. You only came to catch me for the money."

The young gambler sneered, expecting a retort from the detective, but was surprised when the detective nodded.

"Yes, pounds are certainly important. Otherwise, why would I be out in the foggy night, not at home by the gaslight taking care of my lovely cat, and instead coming to catch you?"

Although he had encountered an accident at the club, at least the process of submitting the commission and receiving the payment had gone smoothly. The Franklins did not give their son a hard time, and Shade simply collected the half-pound fee and the two pounds of gambling debt paid in advance at the door before leaving directly.

As he walked away, he saw young Franklin in the house making a vicious gesture at him. Shade was not angry; he truly felt some pity for Mr. Franklin.

"Every era and every family has its own story. I had better take care of myself first."

With his hands in his pockets, he walked into the long night, bidding farewell to his first official employer.

The night was deep, and the cash-strapped detective still did not take a carriage, walking home on foot. He had to scrape together 10 pounds within a month; even if the relics at home could be pawned, he had to cultivate a habit of frugality.

It was already the middle of the night when he arrived home. Leaving the hazy mist outside and climbing up the dim stairs, he felt exceptionally lonely and solitary. After entering, he worried that the orange cat, "Little Mia," might have messed everywhere, but fortunately, it had very obediently left its "traces" on the pile of sand Shade had prepared in the corner of the balcony before he left.

As for the cat itself, it darted over the moment the tired detective opened the door, grabbing his pant leg and asking to be held, exceptionally excited by Shade's return. This gave Shade, who had walked through the night alone for hours, a feeling of being unusually moved and warmed inside.

"Even if your master didn't come to get you, I would have adopted you."

"Meow~"

He said this after picking up the well-behaved cat. Mia the orange cat rubbed her soft little head against Shade's chest to express her affection. The detective then made a temporary little nest for Little Mia on his desk using a blanket in his bedroom.

The night was deep, and he did not continue to study the [Vampire Ring]. Even though he went to sleep quite late that night, he woke up punctually at a little after six the next morning, feeling no fatigue at all.

The goat milk and cow milk he had ordered the day before were delivered along with the newspaper. For the first time in this house, Shade ate breakfast with the well-behaved orange cat Mia and planned his schedule for the day.

Today was Tuesday, and he wasn't due to see Dr. Schneider until tomorrow, but because of the note he had left yesterday, he certainly had to make a trip to the doctor's office.

Completing two commissions in a single day yesterday gave Shade great confidence in taking over the firm's business. However, he didn't plan to deal with the cases left by the previous detective today. After returning from the doctor, he intended to carefully inspect the house, search for that pistol, and continue reading the doctor's handwriting and past commission records to study his own Spirit Runes.

Leaving Little Mia to watch the house, Shade carried the [Vampire Ring] with him and walked through the city in the thin mist.

The journey on foot from the center of Tobesk to the doctor's clinic in the East District took several hours of his morning, but the unique scenery of the unfamiliar Steam Age and the European architectural style were quite novel to Shade.

Walking along the beautiful Roentgen Avenue in the wealthy district, seeing the four-wheeled carriage parked outside the psychology clinic and a gentleman in a black top hat stepping down from it, Shade was still worried about whether the doctor had returned.

Fortunately, the hours of travel were not in vain; the blue-eyed doctor had returned, though he appeared quite troubled while receiving Shade. Shade remembered Miss Louisa saying that his luck was usually quite poor, and this time he had encountered something annoying:

"That is why I have always hated dealing with aristocrats. If they can be cured, they don't take their psychological problems seriously; if they cannot be cured, they think there is something wrong with my skills. This current case of bulimia is very problematic. That lady has likely hidden some secrets she is unwilling to speak of; people never trust their doctors... Shade, if you ever encounter a commission from an aristocrat, you will certainly understand what I mean... Please, sit down. I saw your note, but what exactly is the matter?"