Do you know our identities now?

Lynch returned to his room and dutifully changed out of his shirt. After giving it a rough wash, he hung it on the rope outside, intending to hand it over to Melissa once it was dry.

After all, Melissa was a teenage girl; he felt too embarrassed to hand over his clothes without washing them himself.

For some reason, after he hung the clothes out, Melissa stared at them for a long while. Finally, she let out a deep sigh, grabbed another basin, and washed them all over again.

He tried to take over halfway through, but Melissa refused.

"Mr. Trance, you should rest for a bit. After all, you need to find a job and go for interviews."

Melissa looked at him for a moment before signaling that he could return to his room; there was no need for him to come out and do chores.

"I already found one. As I mentioned before, I was dragged into a case, and they kept bothering my former boss with questions, so he fired me.

But it turned out I was innocent, so they sent over compensation—that's the two pounds.

When I was out walking with Klein earlier, I happened to run into that gentleman. He tripped, and I quickly helped him up. He saw that I was a decent person, so he asked me to work at his company and offered me... well, a salary of two pounds."

After all, he lacked a diploma. It seemed unlikely he would get the same salary as Klein, so it was better to say a bit less.

Even though he claimed it was one pound less, Melissa still gasped in surprise.

"That much?"

She knew it wasn't easy for Benson to earn money; despite working so hard every week, he only made one pound and ten Sule. Yet, Lynch now had a salary of two pounds.

Moreover, Lynch lived alone, so his expenses were minimal.

"Then you only need to save up fifty pounds, and you can get married!"

Melissa earnestly analyzed the necessity of saving fifty pounds for him, and the mere sound of it gave Lynch a headache.

"Don't brush it off. Since you don't have a diploma, those young ladies will have higher standards, but your salary is fine—it's quite good. I remember the university lecturer position Klein interviewed for only paid three pounds and ten Sule, which is a very high salary in Tingen."

Melissa explained a few things, and seeing Lynch's helpless expression, she offered him some comfort.

"You are very handsome and have a good job. I'll keep an eye out for girls who like your type. Don't worry, you're still quite a catch."

Lynch felt as if he had returned to his past life, being pressured into marriage by his aunts and uncles.

How could such a good girl like Melissa have such a nagging mouth?

"Cough, I suddenly feel dizzy. I'm going back to rest."

Lynch quickly dodged Melissa's verbal assault and only felt a sense of relief once he ran back to his room.

Because of all this commotion, the sky outside had already brightened.

He decided to head out with Klein to find Dunn and the others right away.

He guessed that after these two hours, Klein must have made up his mind.

Of course, even if Klein hadn't, he still had to go find Dunn now. He wondered if they provided meals for new hires?

He felt hungry again.

Lynch rubbed his stomach and knocked on Klein's door.

"Are you there? I'm planning to head to Bessek Street. Do you want to come along?"

Klein was still in his room thinking when he heard Lynch's voice. He finalized his decision, stood up immediately, and said, "I'm going, wait for me!"

He put on his hat and grabbed his revolver, deciding to go to Bessek Street with Lynch. He had considered it thoroughly: joining the Nighthawks was the right path for him.

Besides, if Lynch was going, why shouldn't he?

And a salary of three pounds was truly tempting.

They bid Melissa farewell and headed out.

When they reached the street corner, Klein wanted to take a public carriage, but Lynch refused.

He intended to walk there.

"A trip costs four pennies—that's enough to buy several loaves of bread. Don't be so extravagant."

Before he transmigrated, Klein would have thought Lynch's words were nonsense, but now, thinking of the meager money in his pocket, he naturally felt it was a waste too.

However, he was worried that walking would make them late and they might miss the Nighthawks' working hours.

"I think they should have people there 24 hours a day. Anyway, once we walk there, we'll just stay put. If we look pathetic enough, maybe they'll even treat us to a meal!"

Lynch touched his wallet and shamelessly offered the suggestion.

Klein only thought about it for a second before agreeing to the proposal.

Since they were both being shameless, it wasn't too embarrassing.

Thinking of this, the two of them immediately picked up their pace, treating it as exercise.

The journey was definitely over four kilometers. By the time Lynch reached the tavern, he was drenched in sweat.

He had to take a shower when he got back tonight; this was truly uncomfortable.

Even so, neither he nor Klein felt there was a problem. They simply wiped the sweat from their faces with handkerchiefs and walked into the tavern, feeling excited.

Inside the tavern, a game of "dog catching mice" was underway. Seeing Lynch and Klein enter, someone came over to ask if they wanted to bet.

"Can we bet without money?"

Lynch asked, feigning curiosity.

It was meant to be a polite excuse, but the next second, the other party offered to process a loan for him, scaring him into quickly dragging Klein over to the bar.

"What will you have?"

A bartender stood at the bar, and upon seeing Lynch and Klein, he grabbed two glasses that weren't very clean and set them down.

Lynch glanced at the price list in front of him.

Free ice water available for a limited time.

"Two glasses of ice water, that's free, right? There aren't any other hidden fees?"

"None."

The bartender unhappily poured them each half a glass of ice water, indicating that only half a glass was free.

As for why it didn't taste cold, that was because the ice had already melted by noon.

But before they had melted, they were genuine ice cubes.

So, there was nothing wrong with calling it ice water.

It didn't matter; having walked for so long, Lynch was already thirsty, and as long as it was water, he was willing to give it a try.

He even felt relieved along with Klein that it wasn't actually icy, so it wouldn't give them stomach cramps.

Although, in this era, ordinary people with weak stomachs had likely already passed away long ago.

"Right, I'm looking for your boss!"

Lynch finished the water before stating his purpose.

The bartender whistled at an old man nearby, "Wright, someone's looking for you!"

Wright stood before Lynch and Klein with a drunken look on his face, "What is it?"

"We want to hire a mercenary squad for a mission."

Klein hurriedly said.

Mr. Wright scoffed, indicating that there were no mercenaries left.

But seeing that neither Lynch nor Klein moved to leave, he finally straightened up.

"Who sent you?"

"Dunn, Dunn Smith."

"36 Zoutland Street, second floor!"

The old man spat out the address impatiently and was just about to go back to sleep when he heard Lynch lower his voice and ask: "You know who we are now, right? Is there a free lunch provided?"