Benson Moretti

At exactly three o'clock in the afternoon, warm sunlight slipped in through the curtains and fell on the blankets, making them feel cozy and warm. Altair slowly opened his eyes in the soft blankets, the warmth of his afternoon nap still lingering in his mind. He felt as if he had been gently patted, so comfortable that he didn't want to move.

This morning, after finishing manufacturing the weapon, Altair was so exhausted at noon that he didn't get any rest and instead read a lot of mechanical manufacturing books. He barely ate lunch and took a nap instead.

Altair woke up now because his stomach was protesting; otherwise, with this warm sunshine, he could have slept until evening.

After all, she really enjoys sleeping with the warm sunlight shining on her blankets during the Autumn Winter seasons; it feels very comfortable.

After getting up, Altair tugged at the thin rope beside the bed a few times. When Irene came in, she explained her needs, "I'm hungry, prepare afternoon tea."

When Irene came in again, she saw two maids following behind her, who brought Altair a pot of Sri Lankan Black Tea and a platter of pastries.

The platter has three layers: the bottom layer consists of finger sandwiches filled with cucumber, egg, and ham; the middle layer is traditional scones served with jam and cream; and the top layer is cake and fruit tarts.

While Altair was still enjoying his afternoon tea, Old Clayton stood in the doorway, gently knocked, and said, "Count Altair, I apologize for disturbing your tea time."

"There's a small matter that requires your decision and handling."

Altair put down his teacup and nodded slightly. "Come in."

Old Clayton pushed open the door and slowly walked in, carrying several documents. He placed the documents on Altair's desk and explained, "Count Altair, it's time to distribute this year's ' Winter Relief Package.' The people listed in these documents are in need of special assistance."

"Hmm~" Altair nodded and then picked up the documents on the table to take a look.

The nobles of this period were the "natural leaders" of their regions, possessing absolute influence and power within their territories, but also serving as "protectors of their areas."

Furthermore, because this society places great emphasis on "charitable responsibility," local nobles distribute relief packages every year to the lower classes who are unable to work normally due to various "special circumstances."

These relief kits typically contain: flour, potatoes, meat, thick coats, wool socks, gloves, boots, coal, and other survival supplies.

This is considered a social obligation and a form of dignity for the upper class.

The Sheffield family, being a military family, often had more empathy for the plight of orphans, widows, and veterans.

Furthermore, soldiers, whether "retired or killed in action," often only receive meager "retirement pay or pension," and sometimes no subsidies are even provided.

Therefore, in order to ensure their survival, after each war, each Sheffield administration would oversee the relocation of people to the Morse Town.

The "Sheffield" type of land will help these people solve their most basic survival problems by renting out land at low prices.

Even so, there are still some who cannot guarantee even the most basic survival. For example, those with missing limbs, orphans and widows, those who are constantly on medication, etc. Most of the people on the relief list given by Old Clayton are of this type.

Altair turned the pages one by one, praising Old Clayton, "It seems that Father's bold decision to let you manage ' Morse Town ' independently was a wise one. You've handled these matters very well."

Before Old Clayton could reply, Altair pointed and asked curiously, "What's going on with someone like Marian? No surname, incomplete information?"

"It's not Count Altair, it's just their name." After saying this, Old Clayton quickly added:

"As you just mentioned, ' Marian ' was an orphan, and the Orphanage only gave her a given name, not a surname. Her husband, ' Jack, ' was the same, so the records could only be documented this way."

Altair nodded slightly. That's true of the world. For example, Old Kohler didn't even have a full name. His urn only had a number after he died. If Klein hadn't engraved "Kohler" and an epitaph for him, who would remember him?

After searching for a while, Altair finally found the one she expected, so she pointed to the information on this company and asked:

"What's the deal with the Moretti family? According to regulations, they should have been relocated to the Morse Town long ago."

Upon hearing the name, Old Clayton's lips curled into a slight smile as he replied, "The Moretti Family, the previous head of the family, died ten years ago during the colonial conflict in the South Continent. He was a sergeant in the Royal Army at the time of his sacrifice."

After his death, we invited the remaining members of his family to move to the Morse Town.

"But he refused, the reason being that the only adult in his family, the mother who gave birth to the children, wanted to continue sending the children to school to change their fate."

"So in the end, all I could do was offer her the help I could. I remember the outcome was that I helped her find a suitable job."

"Unfortunately, this woman did not have a good fate; she died of typhus last year due to long-term malnutrition."

"Currently, only Benson Moretti is working in his family. Klein Moretti and Melissa Moretti are unable to work because they are still students."

Looking at Old Clayton, Altair smiled, shook his head, and asked, "You admire him?"

"Yes, Count Altair." After saying that, Old Clayton explained, "I haven't had much contact with him, only meeting him once a year when the allowance is given."

"But I don't think this affects my understanding and appreciation of him. He is very disciplined, good at communication, and has excellent speaking skills."

"Unfortunately, his lack of education is a major weakness. He dropped out of school early to help his mother with family responsibilities and went into the workforce. I've had people persuade him to improve his education, but unfortunately, he hasn't studied for various reasons."

"So what's your purpose? This document Record that he's already working at the company you manage. If you just want him to get a promotion, it should be very simple, you wouldn't need to go through me at all," Altair asked with a smile and curiosity.

Old Clayton calmly explained, "Altair is joking. I have no relation to him, nor any friendship with him; it's simply a matter of admiration."

"If I had to pinpoint a purpose, I'd say he's a flawed talent I've found."

Altair nodded slightly, because Old Clayton was telling the truth. Butlers at this time did indeed have this "core responsibility," but they generally wouldn't choose someone with "flaws" like Benson Moretti.

Altair tapped his finger on the table, thought for a moment, and said, "Go and send a telegram, telling him to come to Morse Town tomorrow."