Chapter 52

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“Stop worrying about that bloody IOU. Let us discuss ritualistic magic.” Old Neil put away the candles, cauldron, silver knife, and other items with a relaxed expression.

Klein really wanted to shrug the way Americans did in his previous life, but ultimately, he refrained from such an ungentlemanly gesture. Instead, he turned his focus toward the ritualistic magic and asked questions about some details that puzzled him and received certain answers. For example, all incantations followed a set template. As long as that was satisfied and the key meaning of the request was expressed in Hermes, the rest could be left to one’s creativity. Of course, blasphemy or disrespectful descriptions were absolutely forbidden.

The mysticism class lasted until noon. Old Neil cleared his throat and said, “We must return to Jutland Street now.” Then he grumbled incoherently, “To get these bloody materials, I missed my beloved breakfast.”

Klein looked around, both amused and puzzled. “Mr. Neil, do you have a cook? Or a maidservant to cook for you?” A weekly salary of twelve pounds was enough to hire several servants! According to the newspapers, with board and lodging provided, hiring an average cook only cost anywhere between twelve to fifteen soli a week—not even one pound. A maidservant to do miscellaneous housework was even cheaper; their weekly salaries ranged between three soli and six pence to six soli. Of course, one could not have high expectations of their culinary skills.

But...that's not right. With Mr. Neil's outstanding debt of thirty pounds, it's only natural he doesn't hire any cooks or servants...

It seems I've asked another inappropriate question...

While Klein wallowed in regret, Old Neil shook his head and seemed unbothered. “I often attempt ritualistic magic, research extraordinary items, and read corresponding documents at home, so I cant and won’t hire ordinary people as my cook, footman, or maidservant. I only pay someone to come by regularly and clean up the place. And if they aren’t ordinary people, do you think they’d be willing to do such jobs?”

“I seem to have asked a silly question. It’s possibly because I will not do anything that involves mysticism at home,” Klein explained in a self-deprecating manner.

Old Neil had long since stood up. He donned his bowler hat as he walked out the door, still mumbling, “I think I smell pan-fried foie gras... Once the IOU is completely settled, I’ll definitely get some! I’m sure I can eat a whole roasted pork loin with apple glaze for lunch. No, that’s not enough. I must also have a sausage with a side of mashed potatoes...”

You're making me hungry...

Klein swallowed his saliva. He caught up with Old Neil, and they headed to the nearby coach stop together.

After alighting at Jutland Street, Old Neil suddenly hummed in surprise. “What is that? Oh Goddess! What is that I’m seeing?” He dashed to the curbside, suddenly as nimble as a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old lad, and picked up an object.

Klein drew closer out of curiosity and looked carefully. He realized it was a finely crafted leather wallet. With his limited experience, he could barely tell if the dark brown wallet was made of cowhide or lambskin, but he noticed a small light-blue crest embroidered on it. Above the crest was a white dove spreading its wings.

That was Klein’s first impression. Upon a second look, his attention was drawn to the bulging wallet and the stack of paper notes inside. They were gray pound notes imprinted with black ink—at least twenty of them!

Old Neil opened the wallet and pulled out the notes. As he examined them carefully, he suddenly chortled. “Ten-pound notes depicting the honorable Founder and Protector of our country, William the First. Oh my Goddess. There are thirty of these, along with a few five-pound, one-pound, and even some five-soli notes.”

More than three hundred pounds? That was an enormous sum in every sense of the word! He might not save that much even if he had ten years... Klein’s breathing grew heavy involuntarily. Since gold pounds were immensely valuable, finding such a wallet was equivalent to stumbling upon a briefcase stuffed with cash in his previous life.

“I wonder who dropped it... He can’t be an ordinary person,” Klein analyzed calmly. Such a wallet clearly did not belong to a woman.

“There’s no need to wonder who he is,” Old Neil chuckled. “It’s not as though we’d take money that doesn’t belong to us. Let’s wait here for a while. I believe the gentleman will soon return to look for it. This isn’t a small sum by any means.”

Klein heaved a sigh of relief, gaining a renewed understanding of Old Neil’s character. He had been rather worried that Old Neil might use the Goddess’s blessing as an excuse to pay off his debt with this money, so he had been trying hard to think of a way to stop him or persuade him otherwise. Now the maxim “do as you wish but do no harm” began to make a little more sense.

Their wait was brief. In less than a minute, a luxurious four-wheel carriage sped down the street toward them. On either side of its light-blue crest, a dove with outspread wings was visible. When the carriage halted, a middle-aged man dressed in a black suit with a matching bow tie stepped out. He took one look at the wallet, removed his hat, and said politely, “Gentlemen, I believe that is my masters wallet.”

“Your crest is proof of everything,” replied Old Neil politely, “but I need to make additional verifications. This is to be responsible for all parties. Might I ask how much money is in the wallet?”

The middle-aged man was momentarily taken aback, but he quickly replied in a self-deprecating tone, “As a butler, I am not privy to the exact sum in my masters wallet. Tm sorry. Please allow me to inquire.”

“Please go ahead,” Old Neil said, extending his arm in a courteous gesture.

The butler walked over to the side of the carriage and conversed with the passenger inside through the window. A moment later, he returned, smiling. “The amount is more than 300 pounds but less than 350 pounds. My master does not recall the exact number.”

Doesn't remember...? What a filthy rich bastard. If I had that much money on me, I would definitely be counting it over and over..., Klein thought, filled with envy.

Old Neil nodded and handed the wallet back. “With the Goddess as witness, this belongs to you.”

The man took the wallet and roughly counted the notes before pulling out three ten-pound notes. “My master is Sir Dwyer. He said your character is commendable, and this is what an honest person deserves. Please do not refuse.”

Sir Dwyer? The one who established the Dwyer Trust? The Sir Dwyer who provides cheap rental housing to bottom-class laborers?Klein immediately remembered the name. He was the nobleman his brother respected but did not believe to be very worldly.

“Please thank Sir Dwyer for me. He is a kind and generous gentleman,” Old Neil said as he accepted the three notes.

Watching Sir Dwyer’s carriage drive off, Old Neil made sure there was no one around before turning to Klein. Flicking the notes in his hand, he laughed and said, “Thirty pounds. My debt is settled. Didn’t I say it would be resolved in a reasonable manner? This is the power of magic.”

...Holy crap. Itisthe power of magic! Is this really allowed?!Klein was once again flabbergasted.

A few minutes later, as he climbed the stairs to the security company, he wondered aloud, “Mr. Neil, why didn’t you ask for a larger amount?”

“Don’t be greedy. One must take special care not to be greedy when performing ritualistic magic. Self-restraint is a critical trait for every Mystery Pryer if they wish to live a sufficiently long life,” explained Old Neil happily.

...

In a huge ballroom, candles burned on several chandeliers, emitting a fragrance that soothed the mind. Their sheer number produced a light in no way inferior to that of gas lamps. Long tables were laden with pan-fried foie gras, grilled steak, roasted chicken, pan-fried sole, Desi oysters, Iamb stew, cream soup, and other delicacies. Bottles upon bottles of Mist champagne, Aurmir grape wine, and Southweir red wine glistened invitingly under the candlelight.

Servants in red waistcoats carried trays of crystal goblets as they shuttled between the extravagantly dressed ladies and gentlemen.

Audrey Hall wore a collared, high-waisted, off-white dress with leg-of-mutton sleeves. Her bodice was fitted, and her waist cinched tightly, while the voluminous layers of her skirt were puffed up perfectly with a cage crinoline. Her long blond hair was coiled in an elegant bun, and her earrings, necklace, and rings dazzled. On her feet, she wore white dancing shoes inlaid with roses and diamonds.

How many petticoats am I even wearing? Five? Six? shemused silently. With her right hand gloved in white silk, Audrey gently touched her crinoline. Her left hand held a glass of sparkling champagne.

Audrey did not place herself at the center of attention as she usually did. Instead, she avoided the bustle and stood quietly in the shadows of hanging curtains by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She sipped her champagne and watched the crowd as though she did not belong among them.

Earl Woolf's youngest son is chatting with Viscount Conrad's daughter. He likes to wave his forearm emphatically when he speaks. Hmm, the larger the gesture, the more unbelievable his words. That is something gleaned from experience... He can't stop trying to elevate himself by putting others down, even when he feels self-conscious. His words and his body language say it all.

Duchess Della has repeatedly covered her mouth with her left hand while laughing. Ah, I see. She is showing off her dazzingly ocean-blue sapphire...

Her husband, Duke Negan, is standing nearby, discussing the current political situation with a few Conservative nobles. Since the ball began, he has proactively searched for Duchess Della with his eyes only once...

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They almost never make eye contact. Hmm...maybe they aren't as in love as they pretend to be...

Baron Larry has made Lady Parnes laugh seven times already. That's very normal—nothing strange about it. But why does she look at her husband with guilty eyes? Ah, now they've gone their separate ways... That's not right. The directions in which they left both lead to the garden...

...

At this extravagant ball, Audrey noticed many details she never had before. There was a moment when she nearly believed she was watching an opera.They're all such good actors...She sighed silently as her eyes remained clear.

At that moment, she suddenly sensed something. She whipped her head around and cast her gaze toward a dark corner of the large balcony outside. In the shadows sat a large golden retriever, silently watching her with quiet eyes, half of its body hidden in darkness.

“Susie...” The corners of Audrey’s mouth twitched as her expression instantly fell. She could no longer maintain her role as a Spectator.