Search

The Chairman's office door was locked, which Angel had expected. Klein's divination had also clearly indicated that the ring was being properly stored. If the door had been wide open and the ring left on the desk for anyone to take, she would have suspected it was a trap instead.

She took a simple lockpicking set from her pocket. It was essential equipment for Cole Granger when he moved through Tingen City's underworld, killing and robbing. Small and lightweight, she had kept it on her at all times, but this was the first time she had used it.

Locks in this era were not as complex as those in her previous life. Drawing on Angel's extensive experience, she worked the wire from the lockpick set back and forth inside the keyhole while using the pick in her other hand to apply torque. She quickly aligned all the pins, gave it a gentle twist, and opened the lock.

The Chairman's office was twice as large as the other rooms, as could be seen from the distance between its door and the others. She stepped inside, carefully closed and locked the door behind her. Unless someone had a key, no one would be able to enter and interrupt her search.

The curtains in the empty office were tightly drawn. Once the door was closed, only faint strands of sunlight seeped in around their edges, but her Dark Vision allowed her to see every furnishing in the room clearly. She did not light the Gas Lamp, since any light leaking through the door crack would surely arouse suspicion.

A wooden desk stood in the center of the office, with its matching chair tucked into the recessed space beneath it.

The desk's edges were covered in leather secured by rows of decorative rivets. A small bookshelf occupied a third of the desktop, but it held only a few newspapers. Clearly, the desk's owner had no interest in pretending to be cultured.

Behind the desk was a curtained window. Judging by the office's position, the warehouse's main entrance should have been outside it. Separated by only one wall, she could clearly hear the commotion below. Unrestrained curses had replaced the earlier demands and attempts at persuasion. It seemed the conflict had escalated further.

A single-seat sofa stood against the wall by the window, beside a low Tea Table. A small coffee pot and several upside-down cups were scattered unevenly across it. A black top hat hung from the top of the coat rack beside the sofa, already covered in a fair amount of dust.

There was no other furniture in the office, not even a common filing cabinet. Only the oil paintings hanging on both walls added a touch of color to the room. Rather than an office, it was more like the guild Chairman's private lounge. There was nothing he did not personally need, and he had not even prepared a second chair for visitors.

Angel went to the other side of the desk and opened the newspapers on the bookshelf. The stacked papers were all Tingen Daily. The one on top was dated a week ago, and its front page reported that the second son of Magwin, a banker from Conston City, had died in Tingen City during a home invasion.

Angel ran her fingers over the desktop, then rubbed her fingertips together. A thin layer of dust had collected on them.

It seemed the Chairman had been gone for at least several days, and since no one else had a key, nobody could enter to clean the room for him.

She moved the chair aside and looked beneath the desk. There were three drawers on each side. She opened and inspected them one by one, finding only half a pack of cigarettes, coins totaling roughly 1 Gold Pound, and a pile of documents that meant nothing to her.

She surveyed the entire room. Other than the desk, there was nowhere else to hide anything.

This was somewhat different from what Angel had expected. She had originally worried there would be too many rooms and too much clutter, making the ring hard to find. She had not expected such a bare room to be even more troublesome.

This time, she somewhat missed Klein the "Diviner." If he were here, a single Dowsing Rod spell could solve the problem. Unfortunately, she had shut him out, and he was probably wandering the streets somewhere now.

Angel even pulled out all the drawers to check for hidden compartments, but found nothing.

In the end, she could only turn her attention to the paintings on the walls. If they yielded nothing either, she would have no choice but to retreat today.

Both paintings were richly colored oils in flamboyant styles. They did not look like works by famous artists and were likely cheap decorative pieces. It revealed the room's owner's contradictory mindset: he did not like art, yet still wanted decorations.

The paintings were framed in wood, and the paint on one frame had even peeled away in places.

Hmm, peeling paint?

Angel walked over to that painting and ran her hand over the damaged paint on the lower right corner of the frame. She gently pushed it leftward. Just as expected, the painting swung open around its upper-right mounting point, revealing the wall behind it and a small recess in the wall.

Sure enough, this was a hidden "little treasury." Because the room's owner had repeatedly moved the painting aside to use it, the paint had been rubbed off the part of the frame he touched.

Supporting the painting with one hand, Angel peered into the recess. It was divided into upper and lower sections by a partition. The upper section contained several rings, a diamond necklace, and a stack of Gold Pounds, all old notes in low denominations. The lower section held a leather-bound notebook.

All easily portable items... Small old notes were convenient to spend, while jewelry could be sold or used for bribes when necessary. It looked as though this little treasury contained someone's "escape funds."

Angel first took the notebook and tucked it under her arm. Then, with her free hand, she grabbed the jewelry. After some thought, she took out the stack of banknotes as well.

After restoring the painting to its original position, she sat beside the desk, spread the jewelry across it, and inspected each piece.

Mrs. Green's ring was indeed among them. Just as described, it had a golden surface, though it was clearly not pure gold. One side had been made into a flattened oval surface, embossed with the ornate word "Green," surrounded by stripes and Symbols used to verify authenticity.

The other two rings were ordinary gold rings, though both were set with gemstones and were probably worth around twenty pounds on the market. The diamond necklace could likely sell for thirty pounds. Together with the stack of old banknotes, this tiny treasury contained more than a hundred pounds in funds. And there was not even a lock on it. This Chairman was truly bold.

Or perhaps he had only concealed the treasury behind a painting so he could grab it and run at any time, rather than protect his property with a complicated combination lock?

Angel unceremoniously pocketed the valuables. As far as she knew, although the Labor Mutual Aid Society rarely killed people, it had committed plenty of crimes for profit. The fact that Mrs. Green's stolen ring had appeared here proved these possessions had not come by honest means.

Faint shouting, curses, and cries of pain drifted in through the window behind her. The two sides confronting each other outside had, unsurprisingly, started fighting. She hurriedly opened the notebook found in the treasury, intending to give it a quick look before leaving.

The four corners of the leather cover were worn, but less than a quarter of the pages had been used. It seemed the notebook had been kept for years, yet its owner recorded only important matters.

Angel skimmed through it rapidly. Most of the notebook's contents concerned the Labor Mutual Aid Society's "gray business," including the amount of protection money paid by businesses under their "protection" in the South District adjacent to the Docklands, the destinations of smuggled goods, and so on. It was important information regarding the Mutual Aid Society's gray-market operations.

But Angel was not very interested in that. She had only come to retrieve Mrs. Green's ring, not to seek evidence of gang crimes.

Besides, did the Tingen City Police Department truly not know about those gray-market businesses? Why should she go out of her way and invite trouble?

When she reached the final pages of the notebook's records, she found several entries unlike the others.

"That bastard contacted me again. This time, it wasn't just promises of profit, but threats as well! I, Jike, clawed my way up from the bottom. How could I fear the threats of such petty vermin hiding in the shadows?"

"An agreement was reached today. The Mutual Aid Society only needs to provide the ships and workers; we don't need to interfere with the rest. Hmph, the police can't control our turf anyway. Money like this would be a waste not to earn."

"They said some died on the way and replaced them with my crew? Only two-thirds of a shipload came back. How am I supposed to explain this to my men? Have these bastards stopped taking me seriously?"

"After deducting hush money for the families, each laborer leaves a profit of 20 pounds! The Docklands has such a transient population anyway. Who would notice if a few people disappeared?"

"Next week, I'll make a trip to Emmett Harbor. If things can be settled there, we can make a killing in Stone City too!"

Mixed among those entries were the departure and arrival times of several ships. Most departed from Limon City in Inlet Sea County, passed through Tingen City along the Tassok River, and finally reached Pritz Harbor.

This guy really dared to write anything down.

By this point, Angel was covered in a cold sweat. If she had understood correctly, this Jike should have been the Chairman of the Labor Mutual Aid Society. Connecting the entries before and after, he was actually involved in Population Trade!

Although the North Continent had abolished the slave trade, it was said that many factories and plantations still secretly used slaves for heavy labor. Where there were buyers, there were sellers. In dark corners untouched by sunlight, this Population Trade had become even more profitable because it was outlawed.

Judging from the records, Chairman Jike had initially been coerced and tempted aboard this criminal venture. He might not even have known the exact nature of the business at first, but he had soon been drawn in by the enormous profits and voluntarily joined in, expanding its scale.

This was entirely different from petty crimes like collecting protection money or fencing stolen goods. Angel believed that if this notebook were handed to the Tingen City Police Department, the Labor Mutual Aid Society in the Docklands would surely be crushed in one sweep.

She had no choice but to report this...

She closed the notebook, turned around, and lifted a corner of the curtain to look down. Only a few people remained at the warehouse entrance, which had once been crowded with people.

Most of the workers had left the scene. The platform made of stacked wooden crates had been overturned. Several burly men serving as part-time bodyguards were bruised and disheveled, looking as though they had taken a serious beating. Yet judging from the expressions of the middle-aged men they were protecting, the workers' side had likely compromised in the end, or at least postponed the conflict.

It seemed she needed to leave quickly. Once the "performance" downstairs ended and the second-floor staff returned to their offices, slipping away unnoticed would become much harder.

Lowering the curtain, Angel looked around the room to make sure she had not missed anything. Then she casually scattered the newspapers from the desk across the floor, pulled open the drawers, and took all the loose change inside, creating the appearance that the office had been burglarized.

That way, even if Jike returned, his first reaction would be that thieves had ransacked the place while he was away. At most, he might suspect someone had come for the notebook. He would never imagine that the intruder had only been searching for Mrs. Green's ring, greatly reducing the chance that she—or rather, Blackthorn Security Company—would be exposed.

After finishing all that, Angel took the notebook and quickly went to the office door. She first held her breath and listened for activity outside. Once she confirmed there were no Footsteps or breathing sounds, she gently unlocked the door, turned the handle, and pulled it open.

The instant the light from outside streamed through the doorway, her spirituality stirred. A sense of danger washed over her like ice water, covering her entire body, and her stepping foot froze in midair.

A dagger flashed through the light like lightning, stabbing straight at her face.