"Forget about that damn bill, let's talk about Ritualistic Magic." Old Neil casually put away the candles, cauldron, and silver knife.
Klein wanted to shrug like the Americans he'd lived in his past life, but ultimately refrained from making that ungentlemanly gesture.
He turned his attention back to the Ritualistic Magic itself, raising the detailed questions he had previously had and receiving fairly definitive answers. For example, the incantations had a certain format, and as long as it was followed and the key meaning was clearly expressed in Hermes, the other parts could be freely chosen. Of course, blasphemous or disrespectful descriptions were absolutely forbidden.
This "mystical course" continued until noon, when Old Neil coughed twice and said:
We have to go back to Zouteland Street.
At this point, he mumbled a complaint:
"I missed the lovely breakfast because I was busy collecting those damn materials."
Klein looked around, amused and puzzled, and said:
"Mr. Neil, don't you have a chef at home? Or a maid who cooks?"
A weekly wage of £12 is enough to support several maids!
According to the newspaper, a regular cook could be hired for 12 to 15 Soli a week, less than a pound, with lodging and food provided. Maids were even cheaper, earning between 3 and 6 Soli Soli week. Of course, one couldn't expect much from their cooking skills.
Well, no, that's not quite right either. Given that Mr. Neil still owes £30 in debt, it's normal that he doesn't hire a cook or servants...
I think I asked another question I shouldn't have...
When Klein regretted his decision, Old Neil shook his head without any concern and said:
"I often experiment with Ritualistic Magic at home, researching extraordinary items and corresponding documents. I would never and could not hire ordinary people as cooks, servants, and maids. I only have people come to clean regularly. And if they weren't ordinary people, do you think they would be willing to do similar work?"
"I seem to have asked a stupid question, perhaps because I don't do anything involving the mysterious at home," Klein explained with a self-deprecating laugh.
Old Neil had already stood up, put on his round-brimmed felt hat, and muttered as he walked towards the door:
"I can almost smell the pan-seared foie gras... Once the bill is finally settled, I'm definitely going to have a proper plate of it! I can definitely eat a whole piece of roast pork with apple sauce for lunch, no, that's not enough, I also need a sausage with mashed potatoes..."
"You're making me hungry..." Klein swallowed hard, quickly following Old Neil to the nearby public carriage stop.
Back on Zouteland Street, Old Neil had just stepped off the carriage when he suddenly hummed in agreement:
"What did I see? Goddess, what did I see?"
He suddenly became as agile as a seventeen or eighteen-year-old boy, quickly reaching the roadside and picking up an item.
Klein approached with suspicion, and upon closer inspection, discovered it was an exquisitely crafted leather wallet.
With his discerning eye and extensive knowledge, it was difficult for him to distinguish whether the dark brown wallet was made of cowhide or sheepskin. He only noticed a small light blue coat of arms embroidered on it, with a white dove spreading its wings as if about to take flight.
This was Klein's first impression, but from the second glance, his gaze was fixed on the bulging banknotes in the wallet.
Those were gold pounds with a gray background and black stripes, at least 20 of them facing up!
Old Neil opened his wallet, took out the banknotes, examined them carefully, and then chuckled:
"Ten-pound notes, the venerable ' Founder ' and ' Protector ' William I, oh goddess, a whole thirty of them, plus a few five-pound, one-pound, and five- Soli notes."
Three hundred pounds? That's a real fortune! I might not be able to save that much money in ten years... Klein's breathing became heavy involuntarily.
Because gold pounds were very valuable, finding such a wallet was like finding a suitcase full of banknotes in later generations.
"I wonder which gentleman dropped it... It certainly wasn't an ordinary person," Klein calmly analyzed.
This kind of wallet is clearly not for women.
"Don't worry about who he is," Old Neil chuckled. "We're not going to try and take money that doesn't belong to us. Let's wait here. I think that gentleman will be back soon. It's not something anyone gives up easily."
Klein secretly breathed a sigh of relief, gaining a completely new understanding of Old Neil's moral character.
He was initially worried that the other party would use the excuse of "gift from the goddess" to pay off the bill, and he was racking his brains trying to figure out how to stop them and how to persuade them.
Is this what "Do as you please, but do not harm" means? Klein suddenly had a slight understanding.
The two waited on the street for less than a minute before a luxurious four-wheeled carriage sped towards them, its light blue coat of arms featuring a white dove with outstretched wings.
The carriage stopped, and a middle-aged man in a black suit and matching bow tie stepped out of the carriage. He looked at the wallet, removed his hat, and bowed, saying:
"Gentlemen, this should be my master's wallet."
"Your crests prove everything, but I need to verify it again. This is for everyone's sake. May I ask how much money is in your wallet?" Old Neil replied politely.
The middle-aged man paused for a moment, then chuckled self-deprecatingly:
"As a butler, I shouldn't know how much money is left in my master's wallet. Excuse me, but please allow me to inquire."
"That's your prerogative." Old Neil gestured for him to proceed.
The middle-aged man returned to the side of the carriage and exchanged a few words with the people inside through the window.
He moved closer to Klein and Old Neil, smiling, and said:
"More than 300 pounds, but less than 350 pounds; my master doesn't remember the exact amount."
I don't remember... What a rich guy! If I had that much money, I would have counted it over and over again... Klein was filled with envy.
Old Neil nodded and handed the wallet back.
"The goddess proves that this belongs to you."
The middle-aged man took the wallet, counted it roughly, and then pulled out three 10-pound notes:
"My master is Sir Deville, and he says he admires your character. This is the reward that honest people deserve, so please do not refuse."
Sir Deville? The Sir Deville who founded the " Deville Trust Company " to provide affordable housing for working-class people? Klein immediately remembered the name.
He was a knight whom his brother Benson both respected and thought was impractical.
"Thank you, Sir. He is a kind and generous gentleman." Old Neil accepted the three banknotes without hesitation.
After watching Sir Deville's carriage disappear into the distance, seeing that no one was around, he turned to Klein, flicked the banknotes, and chuckled, saying:
"30 pounds, bill settled."
"I said it would be resolved in a reasonable way."
"This is the power of magic."
... Holy crap, the power of magic! This works too! Klein was dumbfounded once again.
After a few minutes, he entered the stairwell and climbed towards the security company, asking in confusion:
"Mr. Neil, why don't you ask for more money?"
"Don't be greedy, especially when performing Ritualistic Magic. Moderation is the key element for every Mystery Pryer to live long enough," Old Neil explained with ease.
Inside the enormous banquet hall, several chandeliers held burning candles, which emitted a soothing fragrance and, in their sheer number, provided a light that rivaled that of gas lamps.
Long tables were laden with delicious dishes such as pan-fried foie gras, roast beef, roast chicken, pan-fried sole, Desi oysters, stewed lamb, and cream soup. In addition, there were bottles of Misty Champagne, Ormir wine, and Southville red wine, all gleaming enticingly under the lights.
Servants in red vests carried trays of crystal glasses, moving among the elegantly or lavishly dressed gentlemen and ladies.
Audrey Hall wore a light white dress with a high collar, high waist, and leg-of-mutton sleeves. The bodice was tightly cinched, and the waist was cinched extremely thin. The multi-layered cake-like cut was perfectly supported by a whale-shaped headband.
Her long golden hair was elegantly tied up, and her earrings, necklace, and rings shimmered brightly. On her feet were a pair of white ballet shoes adorned with roses and diamonds.
"Are there four, five, or six petticoats inside?" Audrey touched the petticoat with her right hand, which was covered by a white gauze glove.
In her left hand, she held a glass of crystal-clear champagne.
Unlike usual, Audrey didn't stand at the center of the banquet, becoming the focus of everyone's attention. Instead, she avoided the hustle and bustle and stood quietly in the shadow of the curtains by the French windows.
She took a sip of champagne and, with an air of detachment that seemed out of place, gazed at the people ahead.
Earl Wolfe's youngest son was chatting with Viscount Conrad's daughter. He liked to emphasize his points by waving his forearms; well, the bigger the wave, the less believable his words—that was a proven fact... He always had an urge to elevate himself and belittle others, yet he couldn't control his insecurity, which was evident in his manner of speaking and body language...
Lady Della covered her laughter with her left hand time and time again today. Hmm, I know, she's showing off the pure aquamarine in her left hand...
Her husband, Duke Negan, was discussing the situation with several conservative nobles not far away. Since the start of the banquet, he had only made a single, deliberate glance at his Lady Della...
They barely made eye contact... maybe, well, they weren't as affectionate as they seemed...
Lady Pannis was amused by Baron Larry seven times, which was normal and not surprising, but why did she look at her husband with such a guilty gaze...? Well, they've separated... no, they've gone to places that lead to the garden...
During this lavish banquet, Audrey noticed many details that she would never have noticed before.
For a moment, she almost truly believed she was watching a play.
"Everyone is a good actor..." she sighed silently, her gaze cold.
Just then, she suddenly sensed something, abruptly turned her head, and looked at the spacious balcony outside the floor-to-ceiling window, and then at the dark corner of the spacious balcony.
Within the shadows, a large golden retriever sat quietly, its gaze serene as it looked inside, at Audrey, half its body hidden in the darkness.
Susie... Audrey's lips twitched, her expression instantly collapsed, and she could no longer maintain her " Spectator " demeanor.