Caught Up with You

Only a single night had passed.

Outside the Thorn Flower building, nothing had changed, but inside the cave, quite a lot was different.

Instead of keeping his distance and passing messages via the elevator, Lynch went into the cave alone, carrying a fresh water melon he had bought specifically from the docks.

During long voyages, dozens of these were usually stored to serve as drinking water, which was why they were called water melons. Packed with various vitamins, plant fibers, and plenty of moisture, it made a perfect gift for Maya. For this, Lynch hadn't hesitated to pay a hefty price to buy one.

【Ha. A hefty price of one penny.】

With an unperturbed expression, as if he hadn't heard a thing, Lynch handed the large water melon to the pleasantly surprised Maya.

Naturally, the female reporter wasn't thrilled just over a melon; she had simply assumed it would be a long time before she saw anyone, yet someone had dropped by on only the second day. Luckily, she hadn't been asleep, or they would have met in a dream again.

Though he found her ignorance of the water melon's true cost a bit silly... well, whatever.

Taking advantage of Maya setting the gift aside, Lynch looked around.

It seemed the witness protection program was going smoothly; Mr. V had already dispatched quite a few supplies.

A portable tent, a full set of camping gear, several changes of clothes, and even a set of cosmetics—though certainly not a luxury brand.

Looking at Maya again, she was actually wearing light makeup today. Why wear makeup in a pitch-black cave where nobody could possibly visit?

The question practically materialized above Lynch's head. Were all women this crazy?

Next time he got the chance, he'd ask Officer Angel. Hopefully, she wouldn't stomp on his foot.

“Printing presses... As far as I know, there are seven in total across Rhine City. Four are controlled by the four major newspaper companies, one is at the city hall, one is at the Duke's mansion, and the last is at Lucas Bookstore.”

Having listened to Lynch's explanation, the female reporter pondered absentmindedly for a while before asking with confusion,

“However, you might have a slight misunderstanding about printing presses. Producing printed materials isn't that simple.”

“Oh?”

“Printing is a massive undertaking with very high costs. Normally, a run requires five thousand to ten thousand copies to bring the unit cost down. No newspaper office with a printing press would ever allow someone to run the machine just for a few slips of paper.”

“What if it was a client's request? They paid for it.”

“It's not a matter of money. Starting the machine and shutting it down just to print a few sheets causes significant wear and tear on the press. Nobody would be willing to do that unless the client paid an exorbitant amount—enough to offset the damage to the machine. But that's far too absurd. If anyone had done something so unconventional, word would have spread throughout the industry already. The lack of any rumors means nobody did something so foolish.”

Lynch pondered for a moment and pressed further. “Could there really be no exceptions?”

“There are, actually.”

“Such as?”

“First, he printed tens of thousands of copies all at once.”

Lynch shook his head. Storing so many identical cards would be a nightmare in itself; doing that would just be asking for trouble.

“Then the second possibility is if someone owned a printing press themselves. Naturally, they could use it however they pleased. At most, the press operators might be a little confused, but with proper handling, the news wouldn't leak out.”

“They bought a printing press specifically for this?”

“Not necessarily.” Maya extended her hand. “Let me see the printed paper.”

“Better not,” Lynch said, shaking his head. “The image itself carries mystery. It's not good for ordinary people to look at it.”

“Is it bad for a ghoul to look at it, too?” Maya smiled faintly. “I'm already in this state, so what do I have to lose? Besides, you've done so much for me. Can't I help you out?”

Lynch smiled wryly, rendered speechless for a moment, and dutifully pulled out the drawings and handed them over.

Examining them repeatedly under the kerosene lamp, the female reporter said thoughtfully, “It wasn't newly bought. It clearly came from an old machine.”

“You can tell?”

“Of course. The difference in print quality is glaringly obvious. You can tell at a single glance.”

“All right, maybe I'm just blind. In short, does this mean that one of the owners or controllers of those seven presses is involved in this affair—or is even Jefferson himself?”

“That's the most likely possibility, though other exceptions can't be ruled out.”

“Let's set exceptions aside for now. Can we narrow the scope down any further?”

“Mm. We can rule out the presses at the city hall and the Duke's mansion. Those two are rarely used, so their output should look practically brand new. The one at the bookstore can also be ruled out—book printing presses yield a different, more specialized result. That leaves the presses of the four newspaper agencies. Our newspaper's press can be excluded; I'm all too familiar with it, and its ink comes out lighter than this. We can rule out the Rhine Daily as well; their machine is missing a corner.”

“Huh?”

“Not the machine itself—I mean the pictures printed by that press always have a tiny patch of missing ink in the upper left corner. People unfamiliar with it can hardly tell, but everyone in the business knows.”

With that, Maya pulled two copies from the pile of yesterday's and today's newspapers provided by the Watchers and tossed them to Lynch. After inspecting them several times, Lynch was finally convinced.

He couldn't tell at all.

“So, the most likely suspects are narrowed down to just two?”

“Actually, only one remains. The two remaining newspapers are Lande News and Rhine Commercial Daily. But Lande News is headquartered in Norin, and the management of its Rhine branch is very complex—not something a few individuals can dictate. The Rhine Commercial Daily is different. It mainly publishes commercial news from both Lande and Friedman, and was founded by several Rhine merchants.”

Lynch's heart skipped a few beats. “Are there any other clues?” he asked in a low voice.

“I don't know much about that newspaper. The actual controllers keep a very low profile and rarely show their faces; not many people have seen them. It's said they made their fortune trading with the Kingdom of Friedman, and they still have a fleet that regularly conducts trade between the two nations.”

Lynch's expression darkened; he had already realized the gravity of the situation.

If the controllers were behind this and had an international merchant fleet, they could easily conceal the stolen goods aboard a merchant vessel and ship them off to the Kingdom of Friedman at any moment. That nation's state religion didn't seem to include the Church of the Black Night, drastically diminishing the church's reach and authority there. Once the goods were transported over, retrieving them would be next to impossible. It appeared their courage to steal from the Church of the Black Night stemmed precisely from having this escape route.

The probability was too high; they had to guard against it.

“Phew, thank goodness for a professional like you. Otherwise, I never would have thought of any of this.”

“I'm just glad I could help.” The female reporter breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. “It makes me feel much better.”

“Don't worry, rest easy staying here for now. I'm looking for a way to resolve your issue and already have some leads. I'm waiting on word from someone, and I'll let you know as soon as there's any progress. Thanks a lot for today.”

Tipping his hat and bowing deeply, Lynch hastily left the subterranean cave and rushed at top speed to the Black Night Cathedral at Crown Square.

After a brief, secretive discussion, five carriages burst forth from the cathedral and sped toward the seaport of the Twin Towers District: White Bird Port.

Halfway there, a fast horse galloped toward them from the front, delivering scouted intelligence.

“The fleet belonging to the Rhine Commercial Daily happens to be docked at White Bird Port resupplying, and they'll soon set sail for Levis Port in Friedman!”