Why would this madman, Germán Spáro, send someone else to collect the reward for the "General of the Blood"? Wait—why is it even possible for someone to collect that reward? Daniz suddenly cleared his confusion and grasped the essence of the matter. He abruptly lowered his head again, shielding his astonishment and bewilderment from view. The adventurers beside him continued speaking: "How could that be? No one dares to take on that task!" "Exactly—unless they're willing to face the wrath of the Storm Church or betray Germán Spáro!" "Four thousand two hundred pounds! If I could secure such a sum, I'd be off to Beckettland right away, making myself a wealthy man!" "Hah! Shouldn't one first enjoy six months at the 'Red Theatre' first?" "Perhaps Germán Sparrow could claim the rewards from Indis, Fosac, or Feneport—though not quite the full forty-two thousand pounds, it's certainly a substantial sum..." As the adventurers spoke, they began to envision their lives after amassing forty-two thousand pounds, even arguing passionately with one another over differing ideals. Could that be possible? Did they really mean that Germán Sparrow had defeated the "Lord of the Blood"? Not exactly—though the man had long harbored such ambitions, he still lacked the necessary allies and would need to collaborate with the captain... Anderson Hood? Danzí stood up, pressed his cap to his chest, lowered his head, and hurried toward the table-tennis and card rooms, where newspapers were often kept. Just as he had left, the earlier adventurers turned to watch his back, lowering their voices and whispering among themselves: "Do you know him? So quiet, so hesitant—there's clearly something off." "I couldn't make out his appearance, but I think he's one of the pirates coming to Baym to gather intelligence." "Should we...?" One adventurer gestured toward the motion of cutting the throat. "Maybe we're still too weak to handle him. Let's wait until this period passes." Another adventurer stopped his companion's suggestion. No, no, at that time, my death hadn't even qualified for a newspaper report... Phew, Germaine Sparo truly was a member of some sinister organization... As he thought about it, Daniz suddenly went stiff, as if turned to stone. Because, perhaps, he too might have been part of that very same sinister organization... "Ha ha, the Church and the military always like to exaggerate—well, it's a secret organization, not exactly a sinister one!" Daniz comforted himself, and once again felt the extraordinary mystery and strength behind Germaine Sparo's organization. The fact that one of the seven Pirate Admirals, Senyor, had been hunted for it was proof! Huff... Daniz exhaled, quietly praising the "Fool" in his heart, expressing his determination to take things seriously. ... At a small building near the Governor's Office, Elran and Us Kent stepped out. "Finally, it's over..." Elran sighed, as he placed his captain's hat on his head. Us Kent rubbed his nose, now flushed from frequent drinking, and exhaled in agreement: "Yes." They had been isolated and under investigation for two full days due to concerns about Germán Sparo, facing off against the experts most skilled in such matters—the interrogators. Fortunately, Elran had not concealed anything from the outset. He had reported that Germán Sparo's background was unclear, yet he held a favorable attitude toward the military, and the decision to include him as a source and conduct background investigations had been made at the highest levels—nothing directly involving him. As for Us Kent, there were no issues at all; simply helping Germán Sparo collect his award was a matter of routine procedure. Walking slowly along the central path toward the gate, Ailran murmured, "Who could have imagined that Garmen Sparo would be so mad, so powerful..." According to the limited information he had gathered, eliminating "The Blood Above" was merely the most ordinary and unremarkable task Garmen Sparo accomplished that day. Yet such a mad man had willingly entered the perilous Bansi simply to save a few passengers and crew members who had only shown him kindness. Ailran later learned that Bansi's hidden horrors far exceeded his expectations—the Storm Church had actually destroyed it entirely! If I tell the interrogators that Garmen Sparo possesses a gentle, compassionate heart, they will surely think I am lying... Humans are truly paradoxical beings... Ailran nodded silently. After listening to Elran's感慨, Us. Kent chuckled in reply: "I had thought you'd brought me someone who was just a strong adventurer. Instead, he even defeated the 'Champion of Blood'! Good heavens, I even believed he had the potential to become the Fifth King. Look at that forest, look at the surrounding mountains—then you won't doubt my words! 'It's just like...'" Elran glanced at Us. Kent and helped complete the thought: "as if it had been bombarded by coastal artillery hundreds of times." "Exactly! Exactly!" Us. Kent agreed with Elran's description. At that moment, the two had already stepped outside the gate. Elran looked up at the star-strewn night sky and the crimson yet dimmed moon, paused for a few seconds, then straightened his collar. "I hope he never returns to the sea again..." ........ Bayam, No. 6, Sphir Street. Danton, dressed in his little boy's formal attire, dashed into the study, where his sister was practicing sketching, and exclaimed, "Tatiana, they say Uncle Spalro is a villain, a cult member, even a murderer! They also showed me the newspaper!" Tatiana turned her head, wrinkling her nose and said, "I don't believe that! Uncle Spalro is a just, brave, and kind adventurer—something we've personally witnessed. It's surely more accurate than the newspaper." Pausing slightly, she then continued smoothly, "Though, though he has such a strikingly terrible and unattractive appearance, that is the price of dreams and of steadfast devotion. Danton, you must remember that newspapers always tend to fabricate stories based on rumors and hearsay." "Hmm!" Danton nodded vigorously, "I've already shouted at them!" Tatiana praised her brother, then instinctively glanced out the window. There, the gas streetlamps cast a gentle, serene glow into the quiet, peaceful garden, soft and tranquil. ……… The Heston district, in a luxury hotel. Crane folded a stack of white handkerchiefs into his left chest pocket and lifted his hand to remove a high silk hat. Today would be the official public debut of the enigmatic millionaire, Daven Tancis! He had decided not to wait for the sale of the bicycle company shares or the magical artifacts, but instead to use the remaining 2,962 pounds to cover initial expenses—enough to comfortably sustain the venture, equivalent to the combined income of an upper-middle-class family over six to seven years. "Last night, the 'Mirror' Arodes did not enter my dreams, which means it can no longer sense my return to Beckland unless I've been in close proximity—this is a good sign, indeed. Tonight, I'll use the radio telegraph to contact it and inquire about the spirits. After that, things will be much simpler," Crane murmured to himself, took up his cane, and stepped out of the hotel. At this moment, the sunlight after the rain pierced through the thin mist, lifting people's spirits as they walked along the streets. Caine boarded a carriage and headed straight for the "Metropolitan Association for Assisting Household Maids," located at No. 9 Carnarvon Street in the Joewood district, where he intended to hire an experienced housekeeper and have her assemble a team of servants tailored to the needs of the villa. The gentleman had deep blue eyes, a very appealing face, and even the slight gray hairs at his temples seemed quite charming. A mere smile from him caused Belin to suddenly feel her cheeks warm. "Mr. Could I help you with anything? Ah, by the way, may I know your name?" Belin quickly rose. "Doane Thénardier," said Thénardier with a gentle smile. "I'm looking to hire a butler—a good one." "Mr. Thénardier, please sit down while I fetch the list," Belin said, bustling him toward the reception area and pointing to a velvet sofa. Thénardier smiled softly, neither pressing nor speaking much, simply sitting patiently, waiting for the staff to present the list of potential butlers. What a refined manner! Oh dear, I completely forgot to ask him what he was looking for! Belin touched her cheeks as she said: "Mr. Thénardier, what kind of butler are you looking for?" "Caine had anticipated this, and responded in a calm, measured tone: "It's best if one has previously served a noble household." This would help Tang Taise expand his professional network. Belein gradually regained her professional confidence and elaborated: "Such a butler is not common, as you know—noble families rarely replace their butlers unless they can no longer provide effective service, and even when they do leave the position, they often find other roles within the household. Moreover, merchant families are highly eager for similar professionals and are willing to offer premium salaries. Mr. Tang Taise, we indeed have the type of person you're seeking here, though the annual salary typically starts at at least one hundred pounds." That is, starting around two pounds per week... A typical housekeeper's annual salary ranges from forty to eighty pounds, equivalent to fifteen shillings to one pound ten shillings per week—roughly at the level of a technical worker. However, the owner provides rooms, food, clothing, and heating wood, so the housekeeper has very little out-of-pocket expense. An annual salary above one hundred pounds is indeed quite high. Klein quickly calculated the costs in his mind, responding calmly and unconcerned: "No problem, as long as they are good housekeepers."