"Have you seen a teenage boy? Wearing an old overcoat!" one of the men who rushed into the carriage said, glaring at the train attendant.
Klein caught a glimpse of the man out of the corner of his eye; he was lean and wiry, with a dark complexion as if he had been exposed to the sun for a long time, and his eye sockets were much deeper than those of the normal people of the Kingdom of Loen.
A person from the plateau? Or of mixed race? He nodded thoughtfully.
In the central part of the Northern Continent, at the beginning of the Hornacis Mountain Range, lies a plateau with an arid climate. Most of it belongs to the Kingdom of Feynapotter, with the western part belonging to the Republic of Intis, and the eastern part occupied by the Kingdom of Loen. The native inhabitants are lean and savage, yet brave and skilled in battle. For a long time, they were one of the most troublesome problems for the three countries. However, with the improvement of gunpowder weapons and the change in the form of warfare, these plateau people finally recognized the reality and completely submitted.
A large portion of them left the plateau and entered Backlund, Trier, Trier, and various bustling cities and Feynapotter City in the Northern Continent. Some became laborers, while others became fresh blood for local gangs, daring to fight and kill, unafraid of causing trouble.
The train attendant, a man in his early twenties, shrank back slightly upon hearing this and pointed towards the third-class carriage, saying:
"I saw it... he went there."
The leader, dressed in a black coat and a top hat, nodded almost imperceptibly and led several accomplices, rushing towards the third-class carriage without any regard for the stares of the surrounding passengers.
If I were that boy, I would have already gotten off the train in third class by now... Klein thought to himself, glancing at the newspaper.
A little over a minute later, the train whistle sounded, and the carriage doors slowly closed.
Clang, clang, the Steam subway began to speed up, but at that moment, Klein was suddenly struck by something and looked up at the door leading to the other second-class carriages.
The fifteen or sixteen-year-old boy who had been wearing an old overcoat, Round Tower hat, and carrying a tattered satchel slowly walked into the carriage.
He had a youthful face, delicate features, and deep, serious, bright red eyes.
"... Wow, impressive. He got off in third class, circled around, and came back to first class? Was he worried that his pursuers might have accomplices waiting in the subway station?" Klein was slightly surprised, feeling that the young man in front of him handled things with remarkable maturity and caution, far surpassing many people in their twenties.
He tapped his left teeth lightly, then quietly activated his Spirit Vision, glancing at the boy. He saw that the boy's body was exhausted, his emotions were tense and depressed, but he still maintained a calm and thoughtful blue aura.
Not simple... judging from his age... Klein muttered silently, continuing to look down at his newspaper.
The tall boy, unaware that he had already been scrutinized by the Beyonder, continued walking towards the third-class carriage.
The rest of the journey was smooth and peaceful, and Klein arrived at one of the three subway stations in the Cherwood Borough about twenty minutes later.
He rode in a horse-drawn carriage for nearly ten minutes and finally found Minsk Street. Following the description in the newspaper, he went to number 17, next to number 15, and rang the doorbell.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo!
As the bell rang inside, a rather unattractive mechanical bird appeared on the door. It was only about the size of a palm, made up of gears and other parts, and kept nodding its head, making a sound similar to a cuckoo.
"It's a pretty good toy, but the workmanship is a bit rough..." Klein commented honestly.
A dozen seconds later, the dark door was pulled open, and a young woman in a black and white maid's dress looked at Klein warily and said:
"How can I help you?"
Klein smiled and tossed the newspaper wrapped around the tip of his cane, saying:
"I'm here to rent a house from Summer. Summer. It shouldn't be rented out yet, right?"
The newspaper listed her full name as Starling Summer.
"No. Please wait a moment." The maid bowed politely.
She hurried inside to inform the hostess, and after a while, she came out again, leading Klein into the house and helping him place his cane and suitcase in the foyer, and hanging his coat and top hat on the same coat rack.
A warm wave of air rushed towards him, dispelling the chill that Klein had brought. His gaze swept across the room, and the first thing he saw was the uniquely structured fireplace, the red pieces inside, and the burning smokeless charcoal.
The Summer family's living room was quite large, almost the size of the entire floor of Moretti's house, with decorative carpets in some areas and landscape paintings hanging on the walls.
The maid led Klein to the sofa area and said to the mistress, who was wearing a pale yellow dress:
"Madam, the guests have arrived."
The hostess was around thirty years old, with blonde hair and Blue Eyes. She was beautiful and well-maintained, and was holding a silver-inlaid court feather fan.
Because she was at home, and because the fireplace created a warm environment, she wasn't wearing high-necked clothing; her chest was covered in a creamy white expanse, and her neck was long and smooth.
"Hello, Summer. Summer." Klein placed his hand on his chest and gave a curtsy.
Summer. Summer smiled demurely:
"Good evening, please have a seat. Would you like coffee or black tea?"
Klein sat down on the sofa and answered frankly:
"Black tea, thank you."
" Julian, Marquis's tea," Mrs. Summer instructed her maid, her eyes flickering slightly. "May I ask your name?"
" Sherlock Moriarty, you can just call me Sherlock." Klein had already thought of an alias.
At that moment, he smelled a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen and saw the complex network of pipes there.
"Hehe, this is my husband's design. Although his main job is as the manager of the Coim Company, he is a mechanical enthusiast in his spare time and also a member of the Kingdom's Soot Abatement Society." Summer. Summer noticed Klein's gaze, smiled, and explained.
"Madam, you don't need to go into such detail. I'm not here for a blind date with your husband..." Klein muttered, but his smile remained unchanged as he continued:
"Madam, I'd like to rent house number 15."
Summer. Summer, sitting upright and gracefully, smiled and said:
"Then I must remind you of a few things beforehand: the house at number 15 doesn't have such plumbing, such an armchair, a card table, a sideboard with a mahogany base, fine ceramic plates, silver cutlery, gilded tea sets, or removable rugs..."
She pointed to the things in her room, introducing them one by one, and added at the end:
"It originally belonged to my sister and brother-in-law, but my brother-in-law's business failed, and he had to move to the Southern Continent. They also have a plantation in Balam, but I don't approve of their choice. It's not fair to my poor nephew and niece; there are no good grammar schools there, not even good tutors."
"Madam, these are not things I want to know..." Klein nodded sincerely.
"Apart from the weather, nowhere in the Southern Continent can compare to Backlund."
His agreement pleased Summer, and she said with a slight shift in her eyes:
"The house still has three years left on the lease. I hope you can pay a year's rent upfront, 18 Soli per week, plus 1 Soli per week for furniture. I can only take a small deposit, totaling 50 pounds."
Klein shook his head and laughed:
" Summer. Summer, you should be able to tell that I've just arrived in Backlund and don't know what I'll be going to encounter. Paying £50 upfront would reduce my ability to withstand risks. My limit is six months, £25."
He also planned to rent another one-bedroom room in the East Borough Backlund to change clothes, disguise himself, and evade tracking—essential preparations for what he intended to do.
Starling Summer nodded slightly, then asked:
"Did you attend grammar school?"
Klein chuckled and said:
"Yes, I later taught myself history."
"Do you have identification?" Starling asked casually.
"I'm sorry, I left home in such a hurry that I forgot to bring it. Hehe, I forgot to introduce myself earlier. I'm from Awwa County." Klein deliberately used the accent that his classmate Welch was used to.
As soon as he mentioned the word "forget," he thought of Captain Dunn Smith, and his smile grew even brighter.
At that moment, the maid Julian brought over a cup of black tea. The cup had a pure white glaze, classic patterns, and was plated with gold in some places.
Klein took a sip and found the aroma to be lingering and the sweet and sour taste to be just right, clearly much better than the Xibe black tea he usually drank.
"Extremely authentic Marquis black tea," he praised, using a description that was beyond reproach.
Starling Summer said with a slight upturn of her lips:
"Then let's rent it for six months, £25."
Klein thanked them and chatted with them for a few minutes until another maid retrieved the standard contract from the study.
After they all signed their names, Klein reluctantly counted out £25 in cash and pushed it to Summer. Summer.
Starling spread out her hands, silently calculated for a moment, then slightly raised her chin and said:
"Mr. Moriarty, you must be looking for work in Backlund, right?"
"Yes," Klein replied, somewhat bewildered.
Starling's lips curled slightly as she said:
"Well, I can give you some advice. It's very difficult to live in Cherwood Borough if you earn less than £3 a Soli. Your rent, food, water, gas, charcoal, and transportation costs will add up to at least £2.50. Believe me, this is Backlund. And you still have to consider new clothes and good tableware and teaware... £3 a week is a very tight bottom line."
"If you can earn 5 pounds a week, you can hire a maid; 6 pounds, consider hiring a cook; 7 pounds, add a male servant; 8 pounds, you can hire another maid..."
Summer. Summer, I think you're showing off... I used to earn £10 a week... Klein maintained his smile and listened attentively.
Just then, the door suddenly opened, and a burly man walked in. He was wearing a black double-breasted long dress, matching leather gloves, and had a neat mustache.
" Luke, this is Mr. Moriarty, he's our neighbor now," Starling Summer greeted him and introduced him.
Luke, clearly the master of the house, took off his coat and handed it to the male servant following behind, smiling politely as he said:
"Mr. Moriarty, would you mind accepting the invitation to dinner?"
This is the manager of the Coim Company, a member of the Kingdom of Loen's Soot Abatement Society... Klein said with a smile:
"I'm sorry, Mr. Summer, I ate it on the Steam train, although the taste was quite memorable."
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Klein, led by the maid Julian, left the Summer' house and entered number 15 next door.
The layout here is very similar to the one next door. On the first floor, there is a large living room, a well-lit dining room, two guest rooms, a bathroom, a basement, and a kitchen that extends to the back. On the second floor, there are four bedrooms, a living room, a sunroom, a study, two bathrooms, and a large balcony.
"Madam said you can rent out part of it, but not to the workers, and it can't be too noisy or crowded here. Hmm... I'll bring over clean blankets, sheets, and pillowcases later," the maid Julian instructed before returning to the Summer' house.
After settling in, Klein finally settled down in Backlund.
He sat in the empty living room and suddenly felt a sense of loneliness, so he forced himself to think about what to do next.
Whether he likes it or not, revenge and advancement are not things that can be accomplished in the blink of an eye, so he must have a job that can generate income to avoid a financial crisis.
However, his work should not restrict him or affect his actions and plans; in other words, he needs sufficient freedom.
After careful consideration and eliminating unsuitable professions, Klein was left with only three options:
One option was to plagiarize and become Author, but his identity was sensitive, and the higher his profile, the more fatal the consequences, so he had to painfully abandon the idea.
Secondly, he could become a journalist, which is a fairly respectable job in modern times. However, applying for such a job requires academic certificates and other documents, which Klein could only express his helplessness about.
Ultimately, he chose his third career:
Private Detective!
This was also the reason he chose that pseudonym.
P. S.: I'll be updating a chapter early at midnight, please vote!