Was this a spur-of-the-moment decision? Had she invented the excuse of visiting me to make it seem more "coincidental"?
Or had she really come to see me about something?
Or was it both-she really had business with me and a grudge against Dokule, happened to spot him here, decided it was a good opportunity, and simply killed him before using her visit as a pretext to ask me about something?
Arthur hoped it was merely a "coincidence," but the facts before him suggested the last possibility was more likely!
He stole another glance at the Lada Carriage. Looking at the expensive vehicle, he knew that whatever trouble she brought would be far from minor.
Until he was strong enough, he wanted no part of trouble like that!
I need to find a way to turn her down!
As that thought crossed his mind, Arthur had already smoothed his brow and turned his gaze back to the coachman before him.
Unfortunately, he gleaned nothing this time.
Even with the skills [Keen Eyes] and [Reading People], Arthur still needed the other person to show the appropriate expressions.
If a single glance could tell him what someone was thinking, those skills should not have been called [Keen Eyes] and [Reading People], but [Mind Reading].
"Welcome to 2 Kirk Street."
"Arthur Credos, the 'Medium,' at your service."
Having gained no clues, Arthur nevertheless smiled and adopted a welcoming manner.
However reluctant he felt, as a Medium, Arthur knew what he should do when a customer came calling.
He did not want to give himself away.
Otherwise, he would face even greater trouble.
Perhaps even...
Utter disaster!
This world had concepts such as "demonic possession" and "devil possession." Although the witch hunts had long since ended, anyone proven to be involved with demons or devils would most likely end up at the stake.
Strictly speaking, his own situation was akin to that of an otherworldly demon. From the perspective of this world's natives, sending him to the stake would hardly be unreasonable.
But Arthur had no desire to experience being scorched and consumed by flames.
So, for now, he was not merely a competent Medium, but also a young man desperate for fame and recognition-Arthur Credos.
Standing on the steps outside 2 Kirk Street, Arthur watched the coachman return to the carriage, open its door, and raise his right arm.
Before raising his arm, however, the coachman not only lowered his rolled-up sleeve but also put on the clean, dark coat hanging beside the driver's seat.
Once the coachman had finished, a hand reached out and rested on his arm.
The hand was pale, its fingers long and slender. Against the dark sleeve, it appeared even fairer, and the newly emerged sunlight gave that fairness a luminous quality that drew the attention of the men present. Even the patrolmen who had come to secure the scene found their eyes drawn to it.
They eagerly awaited a glimpse of the hand's owner.
Fontel, whom Dokule had hired, was already imagining a blue leg-of-mutton sleeve slowly emerging, followed by a matching puffed shoulder, then a white, multilayered petticoat beneath a leather corset. This was the most fashionable style in the Inner Bay that year, the look most society ladies and wealthy matrons aspired to. Naturally, a woman dressed like that would be a sweet-faced young noblewoman.
Is this a stroke of luck amid misfortune?
Have I just met my goddess of fortune?
Born into wealth and filled with romantic notions, Fontel thought this to himself, anticipation shining in his eyes.
In fact, everyone except Arthur was looking on expectantly.
Then-
The hand resting on the coachman's arm suddenly pushed down hard. Veins sprang up on its pale back, and a figure shot from the carriage like an arrow, cleared the waterlogged road, and landed on the steps outside the gate of 2 Kirk Street.
A long-stemmed billiard pipe was clenched between the woman's lips, hazy smoke rising with each breath she took.
Nor was she wearing the Inner Bay's latest fashion. Instead, she wore long sleeves and trousers in the style of the Seven-Year War-old-fashioned, but easy to move in.
The old-fashioned clothes and the pipe looked strange no matter how one viewed them, especially with the woman's short blond hair.
Even her blue eyes and finely sculpted features did nothing to diminish that strangeness.
If anything, they made it more pronounced.
She made no deliberate attempt to conceal her feminine features, but neither did she conceal her more masculine habits.
At once, the people around her showed their disapproval.
Several men stared wide-eyed in disbelief.
Fontel, in particular, with his wealthy family and head full of romantic fantasies, clutched his chest dramatically.
It was as though his heart had shattered in that instant.
For all his fantasies, Fontel was a rather traditional man of South Los, and he could not accept the sight of a woman with a pipe between her lips.
The other men plainly felt the same way.
They stood there sighing.
Arthur, however, did not care.
Having encountered people back home whose gender was "plastic bag," he did not consider anything on this level even child's play.
Besides, he was more interested in her agility than her pipe.
Her leap had covered just under three meters, a distance most adults could manage with a running start. But taking a running start in the cramped confines of a carriage was clearly impossible, and even pushing off with an arm would make it difficult.
Not to mention landing so steadily and silently.
Fast and agile. If I have to fight her, I need to strike first. Ideally, I should catch her off guard and put her down with a shot from behind!
Arthur maintained a calm exterior while silently considering this.
The woman was clearly accustomed to the strange, even discriminatory looks people gave her. When she noticed Arthur's composure, she gave him a hearty smile, then openly extended her hand and said-
"Malinda Julius Caesar."
"Arthur Credos."
It was an unfamiliar name he had never heard before, but that did not stop Arthur from extending his own hand. After a polite handshake, he withdrew his hand, stepped aside, and invited her into 2 Kirk Street.
The doorway was not a good place for a conversation.
Especially with Dokule's corpse lying nearby.
As he entered 2 Kirk Street, however, he nodded to Scott.
Scott smiled and gestured for him to go ahead.
There was a famous saying in South Los: never interfere with another person's work, unless they had killed your parents.
Arthur had his own work to attend to.
So did Scott.
He had to write everything down!
Afraid he might forget, the young reporter crouched right outside 2 Kirk Street and began recording everything that had just happened with a charcoal pencil.
Fontel and Wiggins, meanwhile, exchanged helpless looks, standing outside the door with no idea what to do.
Leave? They truly did not dare.
In the end, they could only remain there, anxious and uneasy.
Malinda Julius Caesar's coachman did not enter 2 Kirk Street. Instead, he stayed with the carriage like an ordinary coachman.
Only Malinda Julius Caesar followed Arthur, heading straight to the Medium's Hall where he received customers.
Along the way, the woman briefly surveyed her surroundings before keeping her gaze straight ahead. Even when faced with the decorations that had terrified Dokule's group, she remained composed.
Arthur keenly noticed, however, that her steps faltered slightly as she passed the fanged deer head and the crimson painting.
Although she immediately resumed walking normally, Arthur still caught it.
She spotted the mechanisms Old Charlie set up!
Arthur was quite certain of that.
He immediately raised his assessment of her danger by another level.
Their conversation, however, remained friendly.
"You have so many books here!"
After entering the small hall, Malinda glanced at the Spirit Board and crystal ball on the table before turning her attention to the many books around her.
The only things in the Medium's small reception room that had anything to do with a Medium were the Spirit Board and crystal ball. Everything else consisted of bookshelves lining the walls.
Each shelf stretched from floor to ceiling and was filled with books. Even a cursory glance revealed at least four or five hundred volumes.
They were all from Old Charlie's collection.
His predecessor had read only a tiny fraction of them, and even those had been forced upon him by Old Charlie. The young man had preferred to devote his energy to swordsmanship, shooting, and riding. He had spent no more than a few hours a week sitting quietly here on his own.
Having inherited his predecessor's memories, Arthur naturally knew the truth, but he would never admit it.
Instead, he said this.
"Reading brings me peace and comfort."
As he spoke, Arthur indicated the chair across the table.
Holding her pipe, Malinda sat down in the chair opposite him and asked directly-
"Mr. Credos, can you 'track down a killer'?"
"I want you to find whoever murdered my girlfriend!"
Before you continue