Suddenly Arrived (Please Bookmark and Recommend)

To avoid an embarrassing scene, Sifa cleared his throat and looked at the profiler, who had picked up his poetry collection again. "Mr. Warren, could Rachel and I speak privately for a few words?"

The young man put down his poetry collection. Looking somewhat bashful, he countered, "Mr. Sifa, what are you talking about? I can't hear you. I can't hear a single word."

All right, I get it. Warren, you're quite something—pretending to be deaf so openly.

Knowing Warren would not leave, Sifa could only give up and say instead, "You don't need to thank me."

Rachel said excitedly, "No, it was you, Young Master Sifa, who saved me. It's just that given the circumstances, I never had the chance to thank you."

"Now that I can finally see you again, Young Master, I must say this to you—thank you!"

The young woman, already a mother despite her youth, cradled her belly with a gentle gaze. "If it weren't for you, Young Master, I'm afraid I would have had a hard time keeping this child."

"But I truly never expected you to take on so much abuse for someone impure like me, someone who lost her chastity before marriage."

"You protected and sheltered me so much, yet I couldn't do anything for you. I could only pray to the Evernight Goddess every day, praying that you would receive the Goddess's protection, stay far from disaster, and live a peaceful life."

Wait.

From what you're saying, does that mean the original Sifa never slept with you?

Sifa was greatly surprised. Just what kind of person had the original Sifa been? To protect a maid who had lost her chastity before marriage, he had been willing to bear the abuse himself and let others misunderstand him. Could it be...

Could all his reckless behavior have been deliberate?

Was he simply missing a few screws, or was he trying to conceal some secret?

Recalling that the original Sifa also had the identity of a bounty hunter, Sifa felt the latter was more likely.

"By the way, Young Master, how is that matter going? Is there any result?" the former maid sitting in the chair asked again.

Having no idea what she was referring to, Sifa could only say, "Which matter?"

Rachel gently stroked her belly and said, "Of course, the matter you asked Detective Liz to investigate. Didn't you often say that it was very important to you?"

Detective Liz? I have no idea who that is, let alone what the original Sifa asked him to investigate.

Sifa glanced at Warren, who was sitting by the door. Although he was holding his poetry collection, he had clearly diverted some of his attention toward them. To avoid letting the profiler notice anything, Sifa could only say, "You mean that matter? Unfortunately, I haven't met Detective Liz yet. It seems his investigation hasn't yielded any results."

"Is that so? I hope Detective Liz returns soon. I hope you can learn the results as soon as possible, Young Master."

Warren took out a pocket watch and pointed at it, reminding Sifa of the time.

Sifa cleared his throat, stood up, and said, "Sorry, Rachel. I still have something to do."

"Ah, I forgot that you're attending the press conference tonight, Young Master." The former maid hurriedly stood up. "Then I won't disturb you."

"Where are you staying? I'll have someone take you home," Sifa said with considerable gentlemanly grace.

Rachel shook her head. "There's no need. My father is outside. I'm already very happy that I could see you again tonight, Young Master."

"Young Master, take care."

Sifa smiled and nodded. "You too. If you run into any difficulties, write to me."

After seeing the former maid off, Sifa truly breathed a sigh of relief. If the child in Rachel's belly was his, he really had no idea whether he had gained or lost, or whether he should accept it or not.

At least he no longer had to worry about that.

All he had to do next was wait for the culprit to appear.

Time passed bit by bit, but until a police officer came to remind Sifa that it was time for him to attend the press conference, the culprit still had not appeared.

The press conference ended in the blink of an eye. At the venue, accompanied by Warren, Sifa met the red-haired Martha.

"Looks like the culprit didn't take the bait. Fortunately, we have a backup plan."

The young woman had left her collar open, allowing her deep cleavage to be exposed to the air. Somewhat vexed, she tugged at the ill-fitting uniform she wore and continued, "The captain and Jeffrey have already gone to make preparations. Hopefully, the plan will proceed smoothly."

The curly-haired profiler said softly, "We'll have to split up now, Mr. Sifa. Please be careful."

Sifa nodded. "I will."

He patted the revolver hidden beneath his formal clothes, smiled faintly, and left the police station.

He boarded the open two-wheeled carriage from his household. Driven by another coachman, it headed back to the manor on Golden Champagne Avenue.

Sitting in the carriage, Sifa recalled the process of discussing the plan with the inspectors earlier.

They had actually anticipated this outcome.

That was why they had prepared a backup plan, which had now been activated as well.

The question was whether the fish would take the bait.

As the carriage passed through Memorial Square, Sifa's intuition suddenly stirred. He almost turned his head to look toward the square's southwestern side.

But he restrained the impulse in time. Relaxing his body, he leaned against the back of his seat and began humming a folk song widely popular in the town.

Just now, Sifa had sensed that he was being watched, and he had felt the intense malice and hatred in that gaze.

Sure enough, after hearing the false information Lewis and the others had spread, the culprit had still come.

There had simply been too many people at the venue, so he had not shown himself. But he had still set his sights on Sifa.

That meant he would not let the matter go.

If everything went smoothly, he should follow Sifa home. But he would never know that the seemingly peaceful baron's manor already had two police officers, Lewis and Jeffrey, lying in ambush.

With Martha and Warren arriving later as well, the moment the culprit appeared, he would have no chance of escaping!

Even though he could not take the initiative or expose his strength, Sifa had constantly been playing the role of a Hunter, setting up subtle traps whenever he found an opening.

That backup plan was undoubtedly one of them.

Enqi Town was not large. Before long, the carriage arrived at Golden Champagne Avenue. The street was broad, yet there were very few pedestrians. At this hour, there was not a single person in sight.

The few households living on this street had basically all received invitations from the mayor that evening, so none of them were home.

After entering the street, when the manor's villa had just become faintly visible, Sifa suddenly heard a horse whinny behind him, along with the rapid rumble of wheels.

He turned his head and saw a carriage with a cabin speeding toward them from somewhere. The two horses pulling it seemed to have been frightened. They cried out as they dragged the carriage forward at full speed.

Even after seeing Sifa's open carriage, the coachman showed no intention of going around it or slowing down. Instead, he whipped the horses even harder, driving them straight into Sifa.

In that instant, Sifa saw the coachman.

He wore a tattered dark cloak. His hair was disheveled, his face gaunt, and his eyes were wild. When the carriage jolted, part of his cloak lifted, revealing the lean, bronze-colored skin beneath, as well as a blue tattoo extending from his back to his side!

Sifa's pupils contracted slightly.

The culprit had appeared, but he had not reached home yet.

Lewis and the others were not with him!

He had not brought the Shadow Glove either!

P.S. Thanks to "Across the Other Shore, There Is You" for the monthly ticket! It's been two weeks since my status changed, and I still haven't received any recommendation notice today. Ha, I'm realizing that writing novels really isn't easy. After posting, you hope to get a contract; after signing, you hope for a recommendation; after getting recommended, you hope to move forward. In the end, I suppose it all comes down to wanting recognition.