The commission

"Poverty made me work hard."

Lorry glanced out at Backlund in the small hours, capped his fountain pen, and tidied the scattered manuscript pages on his desk, muttering a self-deprecating remark under his breath.

"Fortunately, the original owner of this body had an education and could write fluently in Loenese."

A high-end pickpocket needed more skills than that.

Clearly, the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association had initially intended to cultivate the original owner. Otherwise, they would never have taught him reading and writing, makeup, etiquette, history, and other subjects.

That was also one of the practical reasons Lorry had chosen to become a writer.

An illiterate person obviously could not enter that profession.

"Twenty-one pages. Hmm, my pace isn't bad. That's about a third of the planned length. I think this should be enough."

"Until I see some returns, it isn't worth putting too much effort into it."

Lorry opened a drawer and put the manuscript of "Young Roselle" inside.

The completed portion told the story of Emperor Roselle's youth.

With the Gustav Family in decline, young Roselle suffered the humiliation of having his engagement broken off by a family that had intermarried with his for generations. In his grief and anger, he shouted that resounding slogan.

"Thirty years east of the Fog Sea, thirty years west! Never look down on a young man for being poor!"

Devastated by this blow, young Roselle bid farewell to his parents and set out to find his own path, carrying his ancestral sword and shield.

First, he rescued a wealthy merchant's daughter who was fleeing an arranged marriage, successfully winning her affection.

Then, through her introduction, he became the squire of a female knight with illustrious military achievements and began a grueling life of training.

That was as far as Lorry had written.

He also planned to introduce a young noblewoman, a cold-blooded countess, a royal princess, and a murderous female pirate in the chapters to come.

"I think 'Young Roselle' is bound to sell well. Heh heh."

A confident smile appeared on Lorry's face.

The plot of Battle Through the Heavens, combined with a celebrity like Emperor Roselle and a sprinkling of romantic tension, would utterly crush this world's popular fiction.

"Tomorrow, I'll ask Miles to arrange a meeting with someone from an underground publishing house and test the waters with these pages. If it works out, I'll write the rest."

"For now, though, I'll get some proper sleep."

Lorry turned the knob to extinguish the gas lamp and headed downstairs to his bedroom.

Morning.

Still bleary-eyed, Lorry walked to the living room window on the ground floor.

"I hate bells at this hour!"

By the Seven Gods, he had been asleep for less than five hours before the bells of the nearby Church of Steam woke him, leaving him inexplicably resentful first thing in the morning.

"Ding-a-ling, ding-a-ling-"

Once the church bells stopped, Lorry was about to go back to bed when he heard the doorbell ring at the neighboring house, number 63. An idea immediately struck him.

He dressed and opened the door to see Miles handing a coin to the milkman.

"Good morning, Raven!"

Miles looked just as tired as he had yesterday, but upon seeing his new neighbor, he still raised a hand in friendly greeting.

"Good morning, Mr. Miles."

Lorry smiled slightly, his gaze drifting toward the milk bottle in the other man's hand.

"The papers say milk is good for your health," Miles explained casually. "I've made a habit of having a glass before bed."

A glass before bed... The corner of Lorry's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

Wouldn't keeping a normal sleep schedule be even better for your health?

He very much wanted to make that quip, but then remembered that he too had stayed up late last night. He hardly had the right to criticize anyone else on that score.

Lorry awkwardly changed the subject and got down to business. "Mr. Miles, could you help arrange a meeting with someone from an underground publishing house today?"

"Today?" Miles paused in surprise. "You finished writing it in one night?"

"Just part of the manuscript." Lorry chuckled softly. "You understand. If the sample doesn't get accepted, I don't want to keep wasting effort on it."

Miles's eyes shifted, and he nodded in agreement.

"A sensible approach."

"I'll write to a few old acquaintances when I get back inside. I can guarantee at least one meeting, but they may not be willing to meet today."

"That's perfectly fine, Mr. Miles."

Lorry thanked him with a smile and was about to say goodbye and visit a few detective agencies when inspiration struck. "Oh, one more thing, Mr. Miles."

"You've been in Backlund for quite some time. Do you know any capable detectives?"

"A detective? Are you planning to write mystery novels too?"

Miles looked surprised.

Too... Recalling how Miles had observed him during their first meeting yesterday, Lorry nodded in understanding. "I'm thinking of giving it a try."

"Detective Stuart, at 81 Sixth Avenue."

Miles answered without hesitation. "He's an excellent detective, with good fighting skills and plenty of connections. He provided quite a bit of inspiration for my previous work."

Lorry removed his top hat and nodded his thanks, then bid Miles farewell.

Sixth Avenue, Detective Stuart's home.

Detective Stuart, a man with pale green eyes and a thick beard, sat on one of the sofas in the reception area and gestured for his guest to take a seat.

He beckoned a maid over and looked at Lorry. "Coffee or black tea?"

"Black tea, thank you."

As he spoke, Lorry removed his top hat and rested it on his knees.

"There's a matter I'd like to hire you for."

He lifted the black tea, took a small sip, and nodded. "Good tea." Then he explained why he had come. "I'd like you to investigate a gang leader in the East Borough."

"One-Eyed Cyril of the Wanderers Mutual Aid Association."

That was the nickname of the original owner's former boss.

Detective Stuart frowned. "What exactly would you like me to investigate?"

"Where he goes each day, whom he meets, how many gang members accompany him, whether he has any hidden bodyguards, where he sleeps at night..."

"To put it simply, I want you to track his daily movements."

Lorry suppressed his urgent desire for revenge and spoke with a calm expression.

After hearing Lorry's requirements, Detective Stuart's frown deepened. "This assignment is extremely labor-intensive. It would require a great many people."

"And investigating someone like that is very dangerous."

What he meant was:

This would not be an easy job.

Seeing the detective's hesitation, Lorry said bluntly:

"You only need to investigate. There's no need to confront the target."

"I can offer a total of five pounds for the investigation, with two pounds paid in advance. Once I receive Cyril's movements, I'll pay the remaining three pounds."

He paused, then added:

"If any piece of information is particularly valuable, I can offer an additional one-pound bonus."

"Detective?"

That's the best I can offer. If he refuses, I'll just have to find someone else... It's only tracking someone's movements. Surely there's a detective in Backlund willing to take the job... Lorry thought, pained by the expense.

After hesitating for half a minute, Detective Stuart stood and shook Lorry's hand.

"I look forward to working with you, sir."

"Likewise."

Lorry let out a long breath of relief inwardly. He drew two one-pound notes from his wallet and handed them to Detective Stuart. After verbally agreeing on a time for their next meeting, he picked up his top hat and walked out of the detective's house.

He headed straight to the roadside and waved down a carriage waiting for a fare.

"The Bravehearts Bar."