After leaving the noble mansion, Mulan glanced back. The Jonester Family had always hoped to regain its former glory, but most of the Thirteen Knights Under the King Families from centuries ago had long since vanished into the river of history.
This was no longer an age of individual valor, nor was it an age an ordinary person could easily understand. But since Mulan had now inherited the Jonester name, he could at least do his best to uphold the family's conviction-or obsession.
Mulan searched his heart. His twenty-first-century self had never been a man of lofty ideals. He had only wanted a more comfortable life and a good girl to spend it with, and had been nowhere near as hardworking as the former Mulan. Yet both then and now, Mulan was resilient, willing to keep fighting to achieve his goals.
If possible, Mulan also hoped the Jonester Household could regain its glory. That would mean fulfilling the family's shared wish, and, in very practical terms, vastly improving his own quality of life.
But having studied twenty-first-century history and politics, Mulan had analyzed the society around him and understood all too well that this was a nakedly dog-eat-dog age. The insignificant Jonester Family was scarcely better off than ordinary people. Climbing higher through his own efforts would be anything but easy.
As a son of the Jonester Household, all he could do was try his best.
Mulan felt no particular burden over it. He simply treated it as one of this world's challenges, because he knew a more mysterious world awaited him. The dolls still squirming against his chest were proof of that.
Sir Walton certainly lived up to Mulan's assessment of him as an inveterate womanizer and utter scumbag. From noon until evening, Mulan crisscrossed Valentine, meeting Walton's newly acquired lovers. They included young noblewomen and lonely noble ladies, some young and others more mature. There was even a prostitute.
Mulan could hardly imagine how Walton had managed to dash from place to place over this period, carrying on and flirting with so many women at once. Then again, perhaps some of them had been flirting with him, because a few of the women Mulan delivered messages to showed a keen interest in Mulan himself, their enthusiasm positively blazing.
Mulan had not panicked even when facing the vicious Mad Killer, yet those encounters had frightened him into retreat.
By the time the sun sank toward the west, Mulan was on his way home. Looking at the list in his hand, every name crossed out, he felt relieved but could not resist grumbling.
"Does this guy know how to make copies of himself? With this many women, isn't he worried he won't keep up? He's probably only met plenty of them once or twice and taken them on one date..."
Some of these women were taking risks by meeting Walton in secret, though that probably brought its own forbidden thrill.
Despite all the girls on Walton's list, which might make society seem quite permissive, Mulan knew how deeply feudal the prevailing attitudes in Valentine-or rather, the Dilga Empire, and perhaps most other countries-truly were.
The struggling masses at the bottom had little freedom of choice, but even women of the middle and upper classes were scarcely better off. Many might pass through only two stages in their entire lives: preparing for marriage and being married.
The demands placed on women regarding etiquette and fidelity were also exceptionally harsh, and women lacked many of the basic rights enjoyed by men.
To Mulan, the respect gentlemen showed women through basic etiquette was merely a glittering veneer over oppression.
Of course, for those who could endure all this and had never awakened to a true sense of self, it remained a rich and colorful world. Everyone still had their own amusements, and the noble ladies delighted endlessly in their refined lives.
And immense repression inevitably produced a fierce backlash. If it could not emerge in the open, it would emerge in the shadows.
Mulan was no naïve innocent. Although he had never experienced it firsthand, he knew full well that the Dilga Empire's high society was anything but clean. It was steeped in filth, scandals, and farces that outdid anything on the stage.
Interestingly enough, the invitation reached home before Mulan did.
When Mulan returned that evening, Old Buck came to the entrance hall and, looking delighted, produced a blue invitation while Mulan was taking off his coat.
"Young Master Mulan, an invitation has arrived for you."
"That quickly?"
Mulan put down his coat, slipped the pouch containing the dolls into his trouser pocket, and took the invitation. Opening it, he saw that the address was indeed No. 6 Manor in the Laurel District, and the hostess was Lily Blanclin.
"Mulan, I've read it. That's No. 6 Manor on Laurel Street, Count Blanclin's residence. He's a true high noble! When did you meet someone that important? Was it in the army? But didn't you say you were..."
Hearing Leo about to let something slip, Mulan immediately called loudly toward the kitchen.
"How could I possibly know Count Blanclin? You're a Detective, yet you can't even read an invitation properly. Didn't you see that it's from Lily Blanclin?"
Leo grimaced in the kitchen and fell silent, realizing that he had nearly said too much. But it was not as though he had missed the hostess's name. The invitation was for a birthday ball, and invitations sent to promising young men would generally bear the birthday celebrant's name, even if the count himself wanted someone invited.
How long had Mulan been back? How wide was his social circle? How could he possibly know the count's daughter?
"I know what you're thinking. As it happens, I really do know the count's daughter. I ran into her while I was out. She recognized me from that photograph in the newspaper and invited me while she was at it, so I accepted."
Mulan walked toward the kitchen, answering Leo's unspoken thoughts as soon as he opened his mouth, then made sure to take a sarcastic jab at his elder brother.
"Ah, if you'd caught that killer, you'd be the one invited today. What a shame. Now you can't go anywhere."
Leo fell silent. He sat in his reclining chair without speaking for a long while, staring blankly at the stove.
Even Mulan began to worry. Money had been tight when they were children, and he and Leo had grown up competing over everything. Trading barbs was commonplace, too, but perhaps he really had gone too far today.
After all, restoring the family's fortunes had weighed like a mountain on the former Mulan's heart. How could Leo, who had received much the same upbringing and was less talented than his younger brother, feel no pressure at all?
"Uh, there's really nothing worthwhile about going to that kind of ball anyway. You know I've never learned to dance. Grandpa Buck taught me combat skills from childhood, so I'd only embarrass myself there. Besides, I hardly know anyone. I'd just find an empty corner, eat something, and pretend I was invisible."
Leo looked up at Mulan, still seeming rather dejected.
"I'd like to have a drink at a ball too. You're right. I don't qualify."
Faced with Leo like this, Mulan felt as though relatives had brought a child over to visit and he had made the child cry. At a loss, he glanced at the invitation and turned to Old Buck, who had come over, for advice.
"I suppose I can't bring a family member?"
Old Buck smiled and shook his head.
Wanting to make amends, Mulan could only move directly into Leo's line of sight, but Leo lowered his head again. With no other choice, Mulan went to the side of the reclining chair and crouched down.
"Leo, I know you also..."
Before he could get even halfway through, a hand shot out like lightning, seized one of Mulan's cheeks, and twisted hard.
"Ha! So you've learned to mock your big brother, have you? Let's see you dodge this!"
Mulan's eyes widened. The bastard was playing dirty, and using so much force, too. But with Leo injured, Mulan did not dare fight back too hard.
"You... let-hiss-go... ahhh!"
"Ah, I'm wounded! You dare hit back?"
The brothers tussled beside the stove while Old Buck watched from the side, a smile never leaving his face.