In the late afternoon, upon returning from Saint-Semuel Church, Klein was about to enter the second-floor dining room when he saw the butler Walter approaching, bowing respectfully and saying, "Mr. Klein, the matter you wished to investigate has now been clarified." Without asking in the presence of the other servants, Klein nodded steadily and said, "Go to the study." Walter followed him up the stairs to the third floor, watching as Richardson opened the study door and turned on the gas lantern inside. Klein walked at a steady pace to the desk, sat down, and looked toward Walter, waiting for him to speak. While indicating to Richardson to stay outside, Walter approached the desk and carefully chose his words. Only when the door closed again did he say: "Mr. Wahana is a cloth merchant who previously partnered with someone, investing 1,000 pounds, only for that person to take the goods and disappear. She has already asked Mr. Mahert and Mrs. Liyan to urge the police to resolve the matter promptly, though, as he knows, the police cannot guarantee they will find the target." Caine picked up the black round-bodied steel pen on the desk, stroking it thoughtfully. "For the Wahana family, 1,000 pounds is no small sum," he remarked. As far as he knew, a typical household teacher earned no more than 150 pounds annually, and even less if the employer provided housing and meals. Though Wahana served upper-class families and had multiple employers, her annual income topped out at around four or five hundred pounds, and she had to spend a significant portion of it on her own attire, posture, and appearance to avoid being perceived as unrefined or inadequate in teaching etiquette. "Yes, her husband's income among the textile merchants is only average, and for him, 1,000 pounds represents a significant investment," Walter said gently. "As for me...," Cline sighed and smiled. "I've just arrived in Beckland, and I'm not very familiar with the police department yet." Walter immediately replied, "Sir, during my service under Viscount Conner, I've had the privilege of knowing several senior officers of the Beckland Police Association." The Beckland Police Association? Those are surely the upper echelons of West Villas—no district superintendent, responsible for a single district, would even qualify to join. —West Villas refers to the Beckland Police Headquarters, named after the street where it is located. Indeed, a worthy steward from a noble household... Cline murmured under his breath, shaking his head with a smile. "For now, no—on this matter, Miss Wahana has access to so many capable individuals that, whether it's Mr. Mahert or anyone else, they are well-positioned to ensure the West Villas authorities take this case seriously." He paused, speaking casually as if by accident: "I've seen the underbelly of this society and understand their survival rules—sometimes, even the police aren't as effective as certain mob members or bounty hunters." "Walter, go to the police department and retrieve the relevant documents. Then, issue your bounty notices at the well-known bars in the Beckland Bridge area and the eastern district." "Whether you locate the perpetrators or recover the fabric batch, I'll pay you 200 pounds." "By the way, I hope those con artists still remain in Beckland." "200 pounds?" Walter repeated the figure, glancing at his employer with evident disbelief, as if he couldn't believe he was willing to invest so much for Wahana's matter. He opened his mouth, as though to add something, but ultimately held back, simply responding with: "Certainly, sir." "I'll pay you cash for this." Caine slowly rose and produced the money folder. Walter took the thick stack of cash in his hands and thoughtfully asked, "Should I tell Ms. Wahana?" Klein smiled, "No, thank you." Walter nodded with a look of sudden clarity and bowed, "Your generosity and dedication will be well known throughout the neighborhood." ... In the eastern district, on Dharavi Street, in a cozy yet bustling tavern. After carefully brushing her golden short hair, Hoo pushed through the area filled with the aroma of wine and sweat and reached the bar. She tapped the wooden surface with her fingers and asked the bartender, "What new assignments do you have today?" If it were anyone else, asking without ordering a drink would have gone unnoticed. But seeing that it was Hoo—everyone's preferred candidate for someone who never drinks—brought a sigh from the bartender. "We have a particularly lucrative assignment, one worth 200 pounds." "200 pounds?" "Don't even hesitate to doubt you've heard it right. Aside from receiving a commission from Miss Audrey for a task of this caliber—or higher—she'd never encountered such a substantial offer in the East District or the Beckland Bridge area. Even the previously legendary Azk Egers assignment, which had driven the local bounty hunters mad, only amounted to 150 pounds. For an ordinary bounty hunter, completing this commission would mean no need to work for a full year. For Rest, it's equally significant, as she's been assisting the enigmatic figure wearing the golden mask over the past few months and has now learned that this person is affiliated with MI9, where accumulated merits can be exchanged for the 'Interrogator' potion formula. Thus, she receives only modest compensation from the figure, most of which is converted into merits, while her personal savings have been steadily built through the advantages she gains as a 'Magistrate'—particularly in identifying and pursuing fugitives." Once they’ve secured the potion recipe and have to pay for the exceptional materials, I currently only have around 300 pounds… Furse is absolutely right—money isn’t everything, but it’s certainly important. With that in mind, Hugh looked at the barman, asking cautiously, “What’s the assignment? Who’s commissioned it?” “The barman’s been swindling fabrics worth 1,000 pounds,” the barman replied, handing over the documents as he spoke. “The client appears to be a housekeeper, named Walter, who serves Mr. Dowson Thauntes of Berkland Street. If you manage to catch the con artists or recover the fabrics, you’ll be able to collect your reward there.” Hugh quickly scanned the documents, instantly forming mental images and intuitively determining the direction of his investigation. “I’ll take this assignment,” she declared, lifting her gaze. The barman shrugged. “It’s not just you—every reward hunter who’s come through has taken on this assignment. And they’ve also come up with their own ideas.” “What kind of ideas?” "Stop asking too many questions. The bartender huffed, "They say Mr. D'Artagnan is so generous that if he still needs a bodyguard, they'd be happy to step forward. "But later, they dropped the idea, because when bodyguards aren't free to pursue their own cases, even drinking has to wait until their rest days." This isn't a problem for me, but I can only be a bounty hunter... Hugh nodded, jumped down from the high stool by the bar, and headed straight for the door without wasting a moment. ... ... The next day, Caine finished his lunch and was about to take a walk in his garden to ease his digestion. At that moment, the butler Walter entered quietly, following him, until no one else was around. "Mr. Caine, two matters," he said respectfully. "Two matters?" Caine was slightly surprised; he had expected only one. Walter nodded. "Yes, the first matter concerns a 10% stake in the Beckland Bicycle Company—someone has already offered £10,000. 'Mr. Kline, would you like to increase your bid?' I've raised £1,000. That's quite good! After some hesitation, Kline said, 'I've just arrived in Beckland, and there are many things I need to remain cautious about.' 'Then that will be it. That will be it.' 'Very well, sir,' Walter replied. 'The con man who deceived Mrs. Wahana's husband and stole her fabric has been apprehended. The reward hunter has arrived nearby and is requesting payment.' 'So quickly?' Kline was surprised, turning to look at the butler. If it were handled personally, it could indeed be resolved on the same day—thanks to the 'Divination Staff' used for locating people—but the issue lies in the fact that most reward hunters are not diviners. Perhaps, then, someone exceptionally skilled in tracking and locating individuals... Kline made an initial judgment in his mind. Walter replied confidently, "Yes, much faster than I anticipated. According to the bounty hunter, she traced the frauds backward through the channels of selling stolen goods." How easily did the channels of selling stolen goods come forward? It seems they've indeed absorbed the lessons of the iron fist... Klein nodded gently. "What's the bounty hunter's name? She's quite capable." "She calls herself Hoo," Walter answered truthfully. Hoo? Klein nearly stumbled, but fortunately, he had the small-time performer's exceptional balance. Pausing to steady his thoughts, he said carefully, "Keep the bounty hunter's contact information. Perhaps we'll need her again in the future." "Very well, sir," Walter didn't find anything amiss in de Noblesse's instructions. A well-bred member of high society always maintains a few unofficial channels. Klein didn't pursue the topic any further. "Hmm," he said, "how much did we recover?" "The cash on the scammer's person plus the unsold fabrics, totaling around 850 pounds," Walter seemed to have anticipated the employer's question and had already assessed this matter in advance. "Good," Klein nodded. "After paying the reward to the bounty hunter, assist her in delivering both the scammer and the stolen goods to the nearest police station." They thanked the officer repeatedly until someone called for Baccus to identify the stolen goods and the suspects. Wahana sat there with her composure intact, smiling gently at the senior inspector ahead of her. "Your efficiency exceeds my expectations. I'm curious—how did you manage to track down those con artists?" Knowing that the beautiful and graceful lady across from her knew the member of Parliament, the senior inspector didn't hesitate to reply. "Actually, it was a bounty hunter who made the breakthrough. She started from the channels of disposal and quickly secured the suspects." "Have you issued any public rewards yet?" Wahana seemed to have pieced together the story. The senior inspector shook her head. "We haven't had the chance yet—the rewards were issued by someone else, amounting to 200 pounds." "200 pounds?" Wahana asked, surprised. That wasn't a small sum—it even surpassed the projected profit of her husband's business. The officer gave a positive reply, and Wahana couldn't help asking, "Who issued the reward?" "The reward hunter didn't mention it, but a gentleman dressed as a butler came with her," the senior inspector simply described Walter's appearance. Wahana had a vague sense of who it might be, leaning slightly back unconsciously and murmuring, "Two hundred pounds...". Liana nodded slightly, turned to the proud girl beside her, and smiled lightly, saying, "Unfortunately, he's too old; otherwise, he'd be a great match. "Yes, I'm planning to invite him to the weekend ball.