Rewards

Early the next morning, Mr. Oystercatcher, who lived in room 302 next door, knocked on Gilan's door.

"Good morning, Mr. Snowy Owl." The burly man greeted him with a smile and handed over a small paper bag. "I went to the Cook Pawnshop yesterday and asked a few friends for help, which is how I managed to sell those things of yours."

"Thank you very much." Gilan took the small paper bag and thanked him solemnly.

After he had asked about it at the dinner table yesterday, Mr. Oystercatcher had offered to help. Gilan naturally didn't refuse and handed over all the gold items and firearms he had collected.

He hadn't expected the man to have sold everything in just one day.

Facing Gilan's gratitude, Mr. Oystercatcher waved his hand with a smile.

"Don't mention it. We are all members of the Society, so helping each other is only right... Though, I am a bit sorry; the quality of those two gold bars wasn't high, so the pawnshop offered a rather low price."

"It doesn't matter, as long as they were sold," Gilan said.

"As long as you don't mind. In that case, I won't disturb you any further. Tomorrow is 'Film Day,' so I'll head back to the clinic now."

With a hearty smile, Mr. Oystercatcher bid him farewell and headed downstairs.

Gilan watched his back disappear before slowly closing the door.

After yesterday's brief interaction, he had roughly figured out some basic information about the four members of the Record Society. The host, Mr. Stork, had a rather mysterious identity; although he owned the Swan Cafe downstairs, he almost never showed his face, remaining as elusive as a dragon.

Miss Sparrow was the daughter of a wealthy family, Mr. Oystercatcher was a dentist, and Miss Seagull was suspected to be the daughter of an official, her father being a high-ranking figure in Black City.

The four of them did not live in the apartment full-time; they only gathered when they received a secret signal from Mr. Stork or on the agreed-upon "Meeting Days" and "Film Days."

Gilan was the exception.

He was currently a wanted man with a bounty on his head, and the police were searching for him everywhere, so he had to hide in the apartment for the time being. Fortunately, the search intensity in the wealthy district was significantly lower than in the slums, and the police would not easily break into a private residence without concrete evidence.

This was one of the conditions of the protection promised by Mr. Stork.

Gilan walked to the desk in his room, pulled out the chair, and sat down, gently opening the paper bag.

Inside were some banknotes, coins, and a handwritten note.

He picked up the note to check it:

"Gold watch, 9 Caesar 10 Pfennig; 2 inferior gold bars, total weight 7.6 ounces, 16 Caesar 5 Pfennig; 2 Borchardt Pistols, plus 6 full magazines, 2 Caesar 5 Pfennig... Totaling 27 Caesar 20 Pfennig."

Gilan counted the money and items, and they matched the note perfectly.

He nodded to himself. The price was only slightly lower than his estimate, but given the urgency of the sale, it was reasonable. He was moved by Mr. Oystercatcher's enthusiasm and efficiency.

Gilan opened his iron cash box and counted all the money he had on him.

Excluding some Melang and Price coins, he had a total of 296 Caesar 34 Pfennig.

Although this is a decent sum, I didn't expect "mercury batteries" to be so expensive... If I want to explore the film reels on my own, the expenses will be huge. I must be frugal, Gilan thought.

He took a portion of the money, tucked it into his pocket, put on his hat, and left the room.

When he went downstairs, he didn't see any other members, only Old Jerry sitting alone on the sofa reading a newspaper. Seeing Gilan, he smiled and greeted him:

"Good morning, Mr. Snowy Owl. Mr. Stork asked me to give this to you."

As he spoke, Old Jerry pulled an envelope from under the coffee table and handed it over.

"This is your forged identification. For now, you are an employee of the Swan Cafe, but don't worry, you don't actually have to work there."

"Thank you. And please thank Mr. Stork for the trouble."

Gilan took the envelope and expressed his gratitude.

Then, he pulled two 10-Caesar gold-leaf banknotes from his pocket and placed them on the coffee table.

"This is for the team expenses that need to be paid. Please pass this on to Mr. Stork for me."

"Alright, no problem." Old Jerry smiled as he tucked the money away, then pointed toward the kitchen. "I've prepared some breakfast—toast, orange marmalade, croquettes, and pigeon pie. Would you like some, sir? Or perhaps a cup of hot coffee or cocoa?"

"Thank you, but I'd like to go out for a walk first to buy some clothes and daily necessities."

Gilan politely declined and asked Old Jerry for a gauze mask.

He put on the mask to cover his nose and mouth, leaving only his eyes visible, then pulled down the brim of his black felt hat and stepped out of the apartment building.

Looking at the bright sky outside, Gilan felt a surge of good spirits.

He strode out with his healthy legs, savoring the wonderful mobility that came with being whole again.

This was the first time he had felt relaxed and happy since he had transmigrated.

Although this relaxation was still constrained by "shackles"—the shackles of being a wanted man with a bounty—at least it was significantly freer than the pressure of fleeing in the slums.

Thank you for this new life. I will cherish every beautiful day, Gilan thought to himself.

He didn't go very far, just finding a clothing store on Horst Third Avenue, where the apartment was located. He bought two sets of white shirts, dress trousers, and ties, along with a brown trench coat.

In addition, he bought two pairs of leather shoes, several pairs of socks, several sets of undergarments, a pair of pajamas, and a wallet.

These cost him a total of about 6 Caesar.

Gilan hoped to live like a human being, to live with dignity, and he was willing to spend the money for it.

Furthermore, this middle-class attire served as a better disguise for him.

Purchasing clothes and supplies did not take him much time, but Gilan did not want to linger outside for long and soon headed back home.

On the roadside not far from the coffee shop, he saw a little girl selling flowers.

The girl was about eleven or twelve years old, wearing her hair in two pigtails, and looked very adorable. Judging by her clothes, however, her family was not well-off; Gilan guessed her parents likely worked as servants or shop assistants in the wealthy district.

"Sir, buy a bouquet of flowers for your beloved lady."

The girl was squatting by the roadside. Seeing Gilan approach, her eyes lit up, and she called out with a smile.

Gilan, holding his shopping bags, looked down at the flower basket in front of her and said softly:

"How much for these flowers?"

"Red Roses are 5 Melang each, Tulips and Lilies are 3 Melang each, Carnations and Sunflowers are 2 Melang each, and Marguerites are 1 Melang each."

The girl quoted the prices skillfully, looking up expectantly at the man who was bundled up tightly.

"I'll take them all."

Gilan took out a gold coin and placed it in the girl's palm. Amidst her stunned expression, he bent down to pick up the flower basket and turned to leave.

"Si... Sir!"

"What is it? Is it not enough?" Gilan stopped, tilted his head, and his voice came from behind his mask.

The girl said timidly: "You gave me way too much; I haven't given you your change..."

"The extra is your tip. Hurry home now."

Gilan shook his head, took a step forward, and walked away without looking back.

The girl's face lit up with surprise, and she shouted after him:

"Thank you, kind sir! Your sweetheart will surely love them!"

Gilan, however, acted as if he hadn't heard, merely thinking to himself:

Thank you for this new life; these flowers are a reward for myself today.