Going Home

Lynch simply pretended not to notice Klein's accusing look. After greeting Rozanne, he left the security company with Klein and started walking home.

Even though he'd come into a fortune, Lynch still couldn't bear to spend it.

"We need to rent a place, buy clothes and a cane. Why take a carriage home? There are two of us—we don't need to worry about getting robbed. Besides, I've got this now."

Lynch shifted his clothes to show Klein the revolver he'd received.

He was bursting with confidence. If anyone tried to rob them, he'd send them to meet God Almighty.

Klein was just as reluctant to spend money. The two of them quickly agreed, then trudged home with tired feet.

Unlike on the way there, when they'd been nervous and worried, now they were tired but in high spirits.

They chatted as they walked and even felt like they could go a little farther.

But just as they were getting close to home, a minor disagreement broke out between them.

Klein decided they should eat out that evening, but Lynch firmly rejected the idea.

He insisted that Klein buy some more meat and cook at home.

Food outside just couldn't compare to Klein's cooking.

There was no need to worry about that. Lynch convinced Klein with one sentence.

"Melissa said she'd feed me for the next few days. If we eat out, you'll have to treat me too."

Klein: ...

He did the math, then finally turned back with Lynch and went to the market to buy lamb, peas, potatoes, and other food.

He bought a little extra this time, figuring they could save some for breakfast and warm it up the next morning.

Before going home, they stopped at Mrs. Slin's bakery and bought twenty loaves of black bread. By dinner, though, there were only eighteen left. Lynch had been unable to resist eating two before the meal.

He really needed to replenish his energy today.

Another thing worth mentioning was that he ate twice as much as Melissa. He'd secretly worked that out during dinner.

"Why was dinner so lavish again today? We might not have much money left."

After they finished eating, Melissa hesitantly pointed out the obvious.

The food had been delicious, but they really didn't have enough money.

"Oh, don't worry, Melissa. The company I interviewed with hired me, and they hired Klein too. He'll earn three pounds a week, and he can get an advance of twelve pounds, so we're planning to move."

"Twelve pounds? Move? Wait, what kind of work are you two doing?"

Melissa eyed Lynch and Klein suspiciously. If Klein weren't less handsome than Lynch, she might have suspected they'd gone out to sell themselves.

Maybe some people liked Klein's type, too. He wasn't as handsome as Lynch, but he wasn't bad-looking either.

"Don't get the wrong idea. We found respectable jobs—or at least Klein did. Yesterday, he couldn't sleep because of the interview, so he dragged me out for a walk. On the way, we ran into the boss I told you about.

"He invited both me and Klein, but Klein seemed hesitant at the time. I thought he wasn't going, but then he came with me this morning."

Lynch patched up some of the lie he'd told that morning.

Melissa opened her mouth, then after a long moment turned to look at Klein.

"What exactly is the job? Do you like it more than being a lecturer at Tingen University?"

Klein nodded.

"It's a security company focused on finding, protecting, collecting, and deciphering ancient artifacts. Lynch does odd jobs there, and I'm a professional consultant. Three pounds a week."

Klein had slyly downgraded Lynch's job to odd jobs as a small act of revenge.

Luckily, Melissa didn't seem to find anything wrong with that.

After all, Lynch had no diploma, and he was getting two pounds a week. She'd believe he was selling himself, let alone doing odd jobs.

Oh, she shouldn't think that way.

Melissa quickly shook the thought from her mind and felt happy instead.

"Twelve pounds! Then you can buy a nice outfit, a cane, and a pair of leather shoes. You'll look much more like a gentleman."

Klein shook his head and explained when Melissa gave him a puzzled look. "That's not all. We have to move, too. The company gave me a few days off so we'd have time to move to a better neighborhood."

Melissa was stunned.

She immediately objected to spending the money, listing all the people who'd failed to save, lived extravagantly, and then suddenly lost their jobs and ended up sleeping in crowded dormitories.

But Klein said it was necessary, and Lynch had to move too.

Melissa looked at Lynch.

Lynch nodded.

"We definitely have to move. Do you want to keep using that washroom anyone can walk into? It's disgusting. Sometimes you open the door and get a surprise."

Melissa opened her mouth. She clearly found that disgusting, too.

"But—"

"No buts. Even if you don't move, I'm moving. I just thought that if we all moved together and found an agent together, we might save some money. And we'd have each other to rely on."

Lynch said it casually.

Melissa's eyes lit up.

"Would we save money?"

"Not sure. But if Benson handled it, we might. You all know he's good at this sort of thing."

Lynch slept in the next morning. When he got up, he warmed the food he'd brought back from the tavern yesterday at noon along with the leftovers from last night, and finally ate his fill.

He felt like he ate too much. Every day, he was like someone starving who'd been reincarnated. The original owner must have had a hard time, especially when his salary was low.

Luckily, he'd changed jobs. Otherwise, even eating would have become a problem.

He sighed, put on his coat, and headed toward the original owner's home.

Before moving, he had to give up the place he was renting.

There was no need to trouble Benson over that. The landlady was easy enough to talk to. Seeing that he was struggling, she'd even agreed to let him pay rent weekly, without a deposit.

But Lynch was certain that one reason the landlady had been so friendly was the original owner's looks.

In a place like this, his face stood out. The first time the landlady had seen the original owner, she'd even thought he was some nobleman's son slumming it for the experience!

Lynch recalled the scene and chuckled, shaking his head.

Wasn't that proof that good looks were the most useful thing in the world?

Of course, sometimes they were useless—like when Lynch reached the house and saw a crowd gathered outside.

He tried to squeeze his way in for ages, but couldn't get through. He even brushed against a middle-aged woman and nearly got hit on the head by her husband.

Luckily, Lynch hadn't eaten all that food for nothing. A casual shove sent the man stumbling back.

"What happened here?"

Lynch was frantic. He couldn't even get into his own home, and nobody would tell him what had happened. It was enough to make anyone worry.

Had someone died in his house?

Should he run?

Even if he hadn't killed anyone, the landlady would surely make him pay if someone had died there. He didn't want to get mixed up in that kind of trouble. Better to pretend he'd never been there at all!

But he had to find out first. He still had a few old suits inside, and he could find a way to get reimbursed for them.

He had to know what was going on inside before he could decide whether to abandon those assets.