Lynch returned to his room and dutifully took off his shirt. He gave it a quick wash, then hung it on the line outside to dry, planning to give it to Melissa once it was dry.
Melissa was, after all, a girl in her teens. He'd feel too embarrassed to hand over a man's clothes without washing them first.
But for some reason, after he hung the shirt outside, Melissa stared at it for a long while. At last, she let out a heavy sigh, fetched a basin, and washed it again.
He tried to take over midway, but Melissa refused.
"Mr. Trance, you can rest for a while. You should be looking for a job and going to interviews, after all."
Melissa looked at him for a moment, then gestured for him to go back to his room. He didn't need to come out and help.
"I found one. I told you before that I got caught up in a case, and they kept bothering my former boss with questions, so he fired me.
"But it turned out I'd been framed, so they sent me compensation. That's where those two pounds came from.
"Earlier, when Klein and I went out, we happened to run into that gentleman. He fell, and I hurried over to help him up. He thought I was a decent person, so he offered me a job at his company, with a salary of... well, two pounds."
He didn't have any academic credentials, after all. If he said he earned as much as Klein, that wouldn't sound very plausible. Better to say a little less.
But even after he shaved off a pound, Melissa's mouth fell open in surprise.
"That much?"
She knew how hard Benson worked for his money. He worked so hard every week and earned only one pound and ten soli, yet now Lynch was making two pounds.
And Lynch lived alone, so his expenses were extremely low.
"Then you only need to save another fifty pounds, and you can get married!"
Melissa earnestly explained why he needed to save fifty pounds. Lynch found it gave him a headache.
"Don't dismiss it. You don't have any credentials, so those ladies will have higher expectations. But your salary is fine—it's very good. I remember Klein only got three pounds and ten soli for his university lecturer interview, and that's a high salary in Tingen."
Melissa explained a little more. Seeing how helpless Lynch looked, she offered him another word of comfort.
"You're handsome, and you've got a decent job. I'll keep an eye out for a girl who might like someone like you. Don't worry, you're still quite a catch."
Lynch felt as if he'd gone back to his previous life, being pressured to marry by every aunt and older relative in the family.
How could such a lovely girl as Melissa have ended up with a mouth like that?
"Ahem, I suddenly feel dizzy. I'm going to lie down."
Lynch quickly dodged Melissa's verbal assault and ran back to his room. Only then did he finally feel a little at ease.
By the time they were done, it was already light outside.
He decided to go find Dunn and the others with Klein right away.
He figured Klein had probably thought things through over the last two hours.
Of course, even if Klein hadn't made up his mind, he still needed to go see Dunn. Didn't joining up mean meals were included?
He felt hungry again.
Lynch rubbed his stomach and knocked on Klein's door.
"Are you there? I'm heading to Bessek Street. Want to come with me?"
Klein was still in the house thinking things over when he heard Lynch's voice. He gave his decision one final consideration, then immediately stood up. "I'm coming. Wait for me!"
He grabbed his hat and revolver, deciding to go with Lynch to Bessek Street. He'd made up his mind, too: joining the Nighthawks was the right choice for him.
Besides, Lynch was going. Why shouldn't he?
And a salary of three pounds was very tempting.
They said goodbye to Melissa and headed out.
When they reached the corner, Klein wanted to take a public carriage, but Lynch refused.
He planned to walk there.
"It costs four pence to get there. That's enough to buy several loaves of bread. Don't be so extravagant."
Before his transmigration, Klein would have thought Lynch was talking nonsense. But now, thinking about the little money in his pocket, he had to agree that it was a waste.
Still, he was worried that if they walked, they'd arrive too late and miss the Nighthawks' working hours.
"I'm sure they've got someone there twenty-four hours a day. Once we get there, we'll just stay with them and act pitiful. Maybe they'll even treat us to a meal!"
Lynch patted his wallet and offered his shameless suggestion.
Klein needed barely a second to think it over before agreeing.
At least there were two of them being shameless. That made it less embarrassing.
With that in mind, they immediately quickened their pace, treating it as exercise.
The walk was definitely more than four kilometers. By the time Lynch reached the tavern, he was drenched in sweat.
He'd have to take a bath when he got home that evening. He felt awful.
Even so, neither he nor Klein thought anything of it. They wiped the sweat from their faces with their handkerchiefs and hurried excitedly into the tavern.
Inside, people were gambling on a game of dogs catching mice. When they saw Lynch and Klein come in, someone came over to ask if they wanted to bet.
"Can I bet if I don't have any money?"
Lynch asked, pretending to be curious.
He'd meant it as a way to turn them down, but the next second, the man offered to arrange a loan for him. Lynch hurriedly dragged Klein over to the bar.
"What'll it be?"
A bartender stood behind the bar. When he saw Lynch and Klein, he took two not-so-clean glasses and set them down in front of them.
Lynch glanced at the price list in front of him.
Cold water, free for a limited time.
"Two glasses of cold water. It's free, right? No other charges?"
"No."
The bartender unhappily poured half a glass of cold water for each of them, explaining that only half a glass was free.
As for why it wasn't cold, the ice had melted at noon.
But before it melted, it had been genuine ice.
So there was nothing wrong with calling it iced water.
That didn't matter. After walking for so long, Lynch was already thirsty. He was willing to try anything as long as it was water.
He and Klein even congratulated themselves on the water not being cold, so it wouldn't chill their stomachs.
Though by this point, ordinary people with weak stomachs might already have died.
"By the way, I'm here to see your boss!"
Only after finishing his water did Lynch state his purpose.
The bartender whistled at the old man nearby. "Wright, someone's looking for you!"
Wright staggered over to Lynch and Klein, looking thoroughly drunk. "What is it?"
"We'd like to hire a mercenary squad for a job," Klein hurriedly said.
Mr. Wright gave a snort and said there hadn't been any mercenaries for a long time.
But when he saw that neither Lynch nor Klein was leaving, he finally grew serious.
"Who sent you?"
"Dunn. Dunn Smith."
"Second floor, 36 Zouteland Street!"
The old man impatiently spat out the address and was about to go back to sleep when Lynch lowered his voice and asked, "You know who we are now, right? Do you offer free lunch?"
Before you continue