You have a job to commission... I'm afraid you've come to the wrong place... This security company's sign really is just a sign...
Hearing the visitor's words, Klein immediately found himself bursting with snark, regretting only that there were no forums or bullet comments here where he could share it.
However, he quickly recalled asking a similar question before. The captain's answer had been, if they had the time, why not take it? The money they earned could serve as the team's private fund and benefits for those involved.
Rozanne's eyes shifted as she thought for a moment and said:
"Our security personnel are all out on assignments. The earliest any of them can return is at least an hour from now. If your matter isn't urgent, you could consider waiting."
Of the six official Nighthawks, Captain Dunn Smith had been invited to the cathedral by the bishop to discuss something unknown, while Leonard Mitchell was guarding Chanis Gate in his place.
The Corpse Collector Frye and the Sleepless Loyao Letting had gone to Golden Indus Borough to assist the police in investigating a theft involving elements of a religious sect. The other Sleepless, Kenley White, was on his scheduled day off, while the other Midnight Poet, Siga Tron, had gone to Raphael Cemetery on the outskirts of North Borough for a routine patrol.
As for the two remaining Beyonders, Old Neil was growing older and weaker and had not gone on an assignment in a long time, while Klein was still a beginner, a genuine novice in every respect.
"None of them are here..." The tall, thin man carrying an umbrella, his temples graying, looked crestfallen. He removed his hat and bowed. "Sorry for the intrusion. I'll take my leave."
He turned and walked out, leaving 36 Zouteland Street by the stairs amid the pounding rain and howling wind.
"What unfortunate timing." Rozanne watched the gentleman leave and sighed regretfully.
Although she would not receive a share of the commission, she would certainly have been included in a lavish meal.
"It can't be helped. Someone has to guard Chanis Gate at all times." Klein put down his knife, fork, and spoon in satisfaction. He had even finished every drop of the thick turnip and vegetable soup he did not particularly like. "Unless you want Brett to go on the assignment? Or yourself?"
Rozanne rolled her eyes and said with a giggle:
"Brett can't, but you can, our Mr. Seer..."
Before she finished, she suddenly realized her mistake and hurriedly fell silent. The front door had yet to close, and if anyone passing or visiting outside overheard anything about Beyonders, it would constitute a leak.
"Good thing the captain isn't here..." Rozanne glanced toward the door and furtively stuck out her tongue. "Otherwise, I'd have to do penance again!"
Brett and Klein both burst out laughing, exchanged a glance, and began clearing away the dishes.
Once everything was done, seeing that the downpour had not stopped, Klein, who had brought no umbrella, chose to remain at Blackthorn Security Company.
He picked up a newspaper, sat on the soft, springy sofa, and leisurely began his "lunch break."
The airship route from Backlund to Desi Bay has opened...
Great Detective Munson has been compiled into a volume and will soon be published...
An advertisement for Lawglas Weapons Store? One standard revolver with six bullets, 3 pounds 10 soli; one double-barreled shotgun, 2 pounds...
As Klein browsed the Tingen City Honest Paper, he suddenly noticed a news item:
"...All the criminals who murdered Mr. Welch and Miss Naya have been apprehended. We believe this will greatly alleviate the atmosphere of panic spreading through North Borough, Golden Indus Borough, and East Borough... Welch's father, the banker Mr. McGovern, has escorted his youngest son's body back to the City of Constant, where a grand funeral will soon be held..."
After reading it several times, Klein suddenly sighed:
It looks like Welch's father has accepted the police's account and hasn't hired a private detective to investigate further...
Losing his youngest son surely couldn't hurt him as much as losing their only son hurts my dad and mom...
His spirits abruptly sank, and Klein sat there without moving for a long time.
As for not being invited to either Welch's or Naya's funeral, he did not find it strange at all, nor did it upset him.
Once everything settles down, I'll find an opportunity to lay a bouquet at each of their graves... Just as Klein was about to head to the lounge for a short nap, someone suddenly knocked on the reception room door again.
"Come in." Rozanne, whose head had been nodding, instantly woke up.
The partly closed door was pushed open, and the tall, thin man in formal attire with graying temples walked in once more.
"May I wait here for a while? Your mercenaries-no, security personnel-should be back soon, shouldn't they?" he asked earnestly, doing his best to hide his anxious expression.
"Certainly. Please sit over there for now." Rozanne pointed to the sofa beside them.
Klein asked with considerable curiosity:
"Where did you hear about our security company? Who referred you?"
Enough to make two trips in this torrential midday rain, and even be willing to wait?
Hmm, the Nighthawks must have easily resolved assignments that others considered difficult, building up a considerable reputation in the business...
The tall, thin man leaned his umbrella outside the door and answered with a wry smile as he walked toward the sofa:
"I've visited every mercenary-er, security company and private detective in the nearby streets. You're the only place where there's still hope. None of them have anyone available to take on another assignment... To be frank, if I hadn't met a waiter delivering food, I never would have imagined there was a security company here."
...That's completely different from what I imagined... Klein froze for a moment.
Rozanne interjected:
"They're busy? There are that many assignments?"
The tall, thin man with graying temples sat down and sighed.
"You're a mercenary team-no, a security company. You must have heard about the home invasion and murders in the Howes Street area?"
The Howes Street area... The home invasion and murders... Well, unfortunately, I was one of the people involved... Feeling somewhat heavyhearted, Klein nodded.
"Yes."
"Because of the criminals' viciousness and cruelty, the wealthy in the neighboring areas, and even throughout Tingen City, have become afraid. Besides increasing their own guards, they've hired large numbers of additional security personnel and private detectives, creating a noticeable shortage of manpower in this line of work," the tall, thin man answered clearly and methodically.
A textbook chain reaction... Klein and Rozanne exchanged a glance, each seeing the self-mockery on the other's face.
The security industry had entered a "golden age," yet Blackthorn had felt nothing whatsoever. That showed just how unsuccessfully this company was being run.
Of course, in a sense, it also proved how successfully the Nighthawks had concealed themselves.
After waiting another twenty minutes or so, seeing that the downpour was about to stop, Klein prepared to pack up and leave for the shooting club to practice with his revolver.
Just then, the black-haired, green-eyed Leonard Mitchell emerged from behind the partition and looked toward the sofa in puzzlement.
"Who is this?"
"A client. Is the captain back?" Rozanne asked delightedly.
"Back?" The tall, thin man looked bewildered.
He had been sitting right here, watching the door. How had he failed to notice anyone returning?
Rozanne's expression immediately froze, and she hastily laughed.
"As a security company, we have more than just a front entrance."
"I understand." The tall, thin man nodded in realization.
As for the title "captain," he did not find it strange at all. Security companies were the mercenary teams or small mercenary guilds of the past, so having a "captain" was perfectly normal.
Leonard's white shirt was untucked, and his black vest was worn just as casually. He glanced at the tall, thin man and suddenly snapped his fingers.
"I'm one of Blackthorn's security personnel. What should I call you? What would you like to commission us to do?"
Perhaps having already heard of mercenaries' uninhibited ways, the tall, thin man showed no anger at being insulted. Instead, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Watching Leonard sit down, he gathered his words and said:
"My name is Cully. I'm the butler of the tobacco merchant Mr. Vickroy. His only son, Little Eliot, was kidnapped this morning. We've already reported it to the police, and they've given it sufficient attention, but Mr. Vickroy is still uneasy. He hopes to use your mercenary-er, security personnel's-connections, as well as your knowledge of Tingen, to investigate from another direction and ensure Little Eliot is rescued safely."
"If you can find the kidnappers' hiding place, Mr. Vickroy is willing to pay 100 pounds. If you have a way to rescue Little Eliot and successfully do so, he's willing to double the reward and pay 200 pounds in one lump sum."
Leonard Mitchell smiled leisurely.
"Mr. Vickroy seems to want us only to find the kidnappers' hiding place? Otherwise, he wouldn't value his only son at just 100 pounds. A tobacco merchant with close ties to the southern plantations should be able to offer more than 200 pounds."
"No, Mr. Vickroy is merely an ordinary merchant, not a magnate. Besides, when it comes to the rescue, he believes the police are more professional," the old butler Cully answered frankly.
"All right, no problem." Leonard snapped his fingers again.
Turning his emerald eyes toward Rozanne, he said:
"Beautiful lady, sorry for the trouble, but please draw up a contract."
"Don't keep acting like you're a poet. All you can actually do is recite other people's works." Accustomed to trading barbs with Leonard, Rozanne momentarily forgot there was a guest present.
Of course, Blackthorn Security Company did not particularly care about clients. Having them was nice, but having none did not matter either.
Rozanne left the reception desk and entered the clerks' office. A clattering sound immediately rang out.
The corner of Klein's mouth twitched as he watched. He felt they really were far too unprofessional.
They don't even have a standard, ready-made contract!
This really is a sad thing...
And what's even sadder is that I actually work at such an unprofessional company...
As these thoughts crowded his mind, Rona finished drafting a contract so brief it contained only a few clauses and had Butler Cully and Leonard Mitchell sign it.
Once Cully had stamped it, she took the contract into the accounting office and had Mrs. Orianna affix the Blackthorn Security Company seal. This seal saw almost no use. Dunn generally left it in Orianna's keeping, handing it to Rozanne and the others on Sundays.
"I look forward to your good news." Accepting one copy of the contract, Butler Cully stood, removed his hat, and bowed.
Leonard did not respond. He remained silent for over ten seconds, as if considering something.
He suddenly turned toward Klein and said with a faint smile:
"I need your assistance."
"Huh?" Klein froze.
"I mean, you and I will complete this assignment together," Leonard explained, the corners of his mouth slightly raised. "I'm good at fighting, shooting, climbing, sensing, and singing, as well as providing some support, but that doesn't include finding people. Surely you wouldn't want Old Neil going out in weather like this?"
When he said "sensing," his voice suddenly became so indistinct that it was impossible to make out.
"All right." Klein felt an urge to try his new "skills," as well as a little wariness toward Leonard Mitchell.
Phew, I hope we can complete this smoothly... I wonder how much use my Seer abilities will be... he thought with a little anticipation.