Are You a Newcomer Too?

Early that morning, Angel was awakened by the sound of knocking downstairs.

"Mm..."

Over the past few days, Angel had often worked until late at night, even until dawn, never getting a full night's sleep. Last night, she had finally dealt with Mrs. Sharon, the only person who knew of her connection to Cole, lifting a heavy burden from her heart. After returning home and hurriedly washing up, she had slept until now.

Cole's sister, Lily Granger's room, had already been cleaned again. The sun-dried bedding gave off a distinctive fragrance, embracing Angel on the bed like gentle hands.

Even though the sunlight outside the window was already bright, she did not want to get up just like that.

"Sorry, I'm coming in!" came the voice of Tromi, the maid, from outside the window, followed by the sound of a key Opening Door.

Cole trusted Tromi greatly. He had even made her a copy of the front door key so that she could come in and clean whenever he went out.

Although the house now temporarily belonged to Angel, she had not taken back the key in Tromi's possession. Her reasoning was much the same as Cole's: she also went out often, and the house needed a maid to come in and clean regularly. A maid who had worked for several years was always more trustworthy than a stranger.

Hearing rustling sounds downstairs, Angel decided to pull the covers over her head and sleep for another hour. She had already come to another world; she was no longer a Templar Knight who had to go to church for morning prayers every day. What was wrong with sleeping another hour? What was wrong with sleeping until the afternoon?

Wait, I seem to have agreed to join the Nighthawks yesterday. I was supposed to report in this morning...

Angel swiftly climbed out of bed and went downstairs in her nightclothes, startling Tromi, who was wearing an apron and had her head wrapped in a dust cloth.

"Mr. Granger?"

Once she saw who it was, her originally excited expression instantly turned dejected.

"Ah—so it's you. Sorry, Miss... So the rumors were true. Has he really disappeared?"

Faced with such differential treatment, Angel guessed that Tromi might harbor feelings for her employer that went beyond the employment relationship, though she had no further evidence.

Seeing the maid grow increasingly sorrowful, she could only comfort her with a few words and say that even if Cole Granger was temporarily absent, she would continue employing her. A pay raise was negotiable as well.

After much coaxing, she soothed Tromi. Then, after hurriedly washing up and changing into a light outfit, she left the house.

It had been nearly a week since she had transmigrated, yet Angel still was not used to women's clothing. She chose loose trousers and a top that made movement easier instead of the dresses commonly worn by women of this era.

Yet even such a simple outfit had taken half an hour. Preparing to go out was far too troublesome for women, but showing up to work bleary-eyed and disheveled would be inappropriate... Angel complained inwardly as she hurried toward the tram stop at the street corner.

Fortunately, the tram arrived quickly. She boarded, paid four pence, and found a seat in the corner.

The morning rush had already passed, so there were not many passengers on the tram. A middle-aged man reading a newspaper opposite her casually looked up when she sat down, then lowered his head again. Soon afterward, he glanced over at her from the corner of his eye.

"Wait, hold on!" someone shouted outside. Accompanied by the approaching sound of Leather Shoes running, a man squeezed into the tram.

"Zoteland Street, thank you." The man who had caught the tram wore a tailcoat and a Silk Top Hat, as though he were headed for a ball. He pulled out some coins and handed them to the worker outside the window at the front of the carriage. Only then did he let out a long breath and wipe the sweat from his forehead.

Wearing that much in such heat—choosing style over comfort...

Huh, he looks a little familiar?

Upon closer inspection, Angel realized that he was the Nighthawks newcomer she had encountered at the entrance yesterday morning when she had been "escorted" back to Blackthorn Security Company. His name seemed to be Klein?

It looked like he had rented a house on Narcissus Street and moved into the neighborhood.

Klein also noticed Angel sitting in the corner. He stood by the entrance for a moment before ultimately deciding to sit beside her.

"Hello."

Seeing Klein sit down beside her, Angel greeted him first. He had clearly recognized her, and since they would be colleagues in the future, it was necessary to build a good relationship.

"Hello." Klein replied. After taking the seat beside Angel, he seemed somewhat uneasy. "I saw you on Narcissus Street yesterday. Your name is..."

"Angel Granger. You're Klein Moretti, right? Um... a newcomer at Blackthorn Security Company?"

Angel's attitude relaxed him considerably, and the two continued chatting. Although it was inconvenient to discuss matters involving the mysterious in a Public Carriage, she still managed to learn quite a bit about Klein.

Klein Moretti was a graduate of Hoy University's history department. He had an older brother and a younger sister, presumably the two people she had seen with him yesterday. Last week, he had become involved in a Beyonder incident. As the sole survivor of a "multiple suicide case," he had been recruited into the Nighthawks as a clerk.

Angel recalled Leonard mentioning "a newcomer like you" yesterday. Was he referring to Klein?

Surely the Nighthawks' members did not all join this way, did they?

Amid their small talk, they arrived at Zoteland Street.

Klein said goodbye and got off the tram. Standing by the street, he adjusted his top hat and let out a long breath, only to find that Angel had gotten off as well.

"Miss Granger, you're getting off here too? Could it be?" Klein raised an eyebrow and asked in surprise.

"That's right. I'm also going to Blackthorn Security Company, so we're heading the same way."

Angel answered with a smile. For the moment, she had no intention of revealing the answer to that mystery.

The two entered the reception room on the second floor of the Security Company one after the other. The reception room, which had resembled a battlefield last night, had already been cleaned. The bloodstained carpet had been removed, exposing the wooden floor. Only one intact sofa remained, and together with several mismatched armchairs, it barely formed a semicircle. A low round table of unknown origin served as the tea table in the middle. The reception desk had been left in place because there was no replacement available, and two bullet holes remained on its outer face.

A brown-haired girl sat behind the reception desk, fiddling with a coffee pot. The rich aroma of coffee filled the entire room. The sound of the door opening made her raise her head and look at them.

"Good morning, Klein. And this is?" She greeted Klein first, then looked at Angel with a puzzled expression.

"Angel Granger. Captain Dunn should have mentioned me."

The girl's eyes widened. "It's you... Right, the captain said you would come today. He's waiting for both of you in his office."

She set down the coffee pot, came out from behind the reception desk, led them around the partition, into a corridor, and stopped outside one of the three offices.

"Knock, knock—" She knocked on the office door and said, "Captain, I've brought the two people you mentioned."

Dunn Smith's deep voice came from inside. "Come in."

The girl did not enter herself, instead making a welcoming gesture. Angel glanced at Klein and saw him take half a step back, politely giving way for her to enter first, so she entered the office ahead of him.

"Daly left Tingen early this morning." Dunn Smith sat behind a solid wooden desk. Once Angel had closed the door, he abruptly said this without any preamble.

Angel froze. She had not expected Dunn to speak about something unrelated to work first.

"I thought she would rest for a few more days."

"She came to Tingen under another pretext, and Mrs. Sharon's case kept her here for two additional days. That was already the limit. I still have to write a report explaining it all."

There was amusement in Dunn's gray eyes. He clearly was not dissatisfied by these tedious matters. "She thinks highly of you. She said that if I hadn't already recruited you into the Tingen team, she would have taken you away."

"Maybe I should have gone back to Emmett Harbor with her. She might even have given me full pay."

"Cough... Those are the rules. They're not something I can change. Ask the other newcomer, Mr. Klein Moretti, who is standing outside. He joined before you, yet he is still a non-official member as well."

As he spoke, he took two copies of a contract out of a drawer.

Angel accepted the contract, sat in the chair opposite Dunn, and read it carefully. There were not many clauses: the signing date, salary, benefits, obligations, and so on. Most of them were things Dunn had informed her of when inviting her to join last night. There was only one additional provision: she needed to wait for Saint Hall's Reply before becoming an official member.

At a glance, there were no unreasonable clauses. Only the confidentiality terms were extremely strict; even if she violated them, there would be no need for a lawsuit. The Church would directly carry out Judgment and punishment.

However, considering the Nighthawks' special nature, Angel could understand such caution.

She signed her name at the end of the contract and pressed down her fingerprint. Dunn stamped both copies, then returned one to Angel. The contract was now in effect.

"Then, welcome to the Nighthawks, Miss Angel Granger." After putting away the contract, Dunn stood and extended his right hand across the desk.

Angel smiled faintly, stood as well, and reached out to shake his hand.

"Thank you, Captain Dunn Smith."

After shaking hands, the two sat down again, but Dunn's next words stunned Angel once more.

"Your first task is to hand over a batch of the bullets you used in yesterday's battle. What were they called again?"

Dunn shifted in his armchair, making himself more comfortable before speaking.

Although puzzled, Angel answered quickly, "They're called 'Storm Convergence' and 'Phantom Phosphor Eruption.' I used them all up yesterday, so I'll need to make more. Are they being submitted to higher-ups?"

"That's right. I have to submit the report on this battle next week. How many bullets can you make this week?"

Neither of them specified who the "higher-ups" were.

Angel made a rough estimate. She could make around five bullets per hour, but based on her last experience, making at most twenty would exhaust all her spirituality. If she concentrated on making them once per day, she could produce around one hundred Storm Convergence bullets in a week.

Phantom Phosphor Eruption was more complicated. Its bottleneck was not spirituality, but the inability to maintain concentration for too long. She estimated that she could only make ten per day.

"If materials are sufficient, I should be able to make one hundred Storm Convergence bullets with enhanced attack power. The other kind, at most ten." She answered honestly. This concerned an assessment of her combat strength and value, and as a newcomer who had just joined, Angel did not lie.

Dunn nodded in satisfaction, took a stack of slips from the drawer, and rapidly wrote on one with the Steel Pen on his desk. He tore it off and handed it to Angel.

"Give this slip to Miss Rosanne, who is on duty today. Have her take you to Old Neil to collect the necessary materials. Hand me eighty bullets next Monday. You may decide the ratio yourself, but there must be both kinds."

They only needed the finished products, not the formula or method of production?

Angel suppressed the question in her heart and accepted the slip bearing Dunn's flamboyant handwriting.

"There is an Alchemy Room in the basement. Old Neil usually uses it, but you may use it as needed. If you lack any equipment, submit a report to him, and we'll get it supplied as soon as possible." Dunn gave careful instructions. "Of course, you may also make them in the Alchemy Room at your own home. I only need to see the results next week."

It seemed they had searched through her entire home the night before... Of course, she had entered the Dream in the basement. Dunn, who possessed Nightmare abilities, could hardly have missed it.

"I'd rather make them at home. I'm already used to the equipment there."

After considering it carefully, Angel decided to make the necessary bullets at home rather than in the Alchemy Room at Nighthawks headquarters.

"Then go take care of it. Ask Mr. Klein Moretti to come in for me." Dunn nodded, indicating his approval.