The Introducer

A massive gas nozzle emitted a roaring flame, casting an orange glow across the first-floor ballroom through crystalline glass lampshades.

Musicians in tailcoats played with fervor, and the smooth, soft music that drifted from their violins was melodic and graceful.

Dozens of people had gathered in the ballroom, dressed in luxurious finery, chatting and laughing amidst a shimmering display of jewelry and fine silk.

When Lynch entered the ballroom, this was the scene he encountered. The people gathered there were all wearing smiles, whispering in twos and threes—a picture of peace, ease, and harmony.

Peaceful? So, all those open shots and hidden arrows aimed at my back just now were hallucinations, right?

Lynch sneered. He stood up straight, adjusted his cuffs, and walked into the ballroom leaning on his cane.

At least he wasn't the center of attention the moment he stepped through the door, which made Lynch feel slightly relieved. However, before he could even catch his breath, he heard someone call his name.

Again?

His nerves tightened once more. Following the sound, he saw a middle-aged gentleman he did not recognize, smiling broadly as he held up a glass to toast him.

"Detective, I am Baron Duron from the Municipal Finance Department. A pleasure to meet you. You are the star of the evening; if there are any opportunities for collaboration in the future, I will certainly pay you a visit."

As he spoke, he produced an exquisite gold-leaf business card and handed it over.

Hiss, it really is useful.

Lynch was already filled with admiration for Miss Valente. That morning, she had specifically taken him to print a stack of business cards—not the pale, primitive kind from before, but ones printed in an elegant, artistic font.

It is worth emphasizing that they cost three pounds per hundred, including the design fee.

Another thing worth emphasizing is that it was settled monthly, by the Valente family.

Who are you looking down on? Lynch had accepted this affront to his dignity with a smile, even wanting to ask for another hundred, though he ultimately gave up on that idea in case she took him seriously.

However, he had never truly believed he would need them. Yet, as it turned out, almost every preparation the girl had made was being put to use.

As expected of a descendant of a thousand-year-old noble family, her nose for conspiracy, her grasp of human nature, and her foresight into the situation made even a transmigrator who had seen countless movies feel inferior.

"Mr. Levive."

Just after dismissing Baron Duron, he heard a woman calling him from behind. Turning around, he saw a young lady in her twenties, blinking her large, watery eyes at him:

"Your performance today was truly brilliant and admirable. My family is hosting a reception in two days; you must do us the honor of attending."

As she spoke, she shot a provocative glance at Lynch, then turned and walked away with a rustle of her skirt, a light, teasing giggle trailing behind her.

Who is this person? Is something wrong with her?

"Haha, that is Viscountess Gwen, a famous socialite in Rhine."

Another middle-aged gentleman he didn't know approached from behind to hand him a business card, kindly explaining:

"Many talented young men have fallen at her feet, and it is said they are quite intoxicated by it. Hahaha, if you work hard, perhaps you too can get close to her."

Damn it, is this the legendary noble public bus?

No thanks, I don't have the stomach for that.

Maintaining an awkward but polite smile, he dismissed the lecherous old man. Immediately, another business card was thrust toward him.

This time it was three young ladies, each wearing a look of adoration: "Detective, we heard you solved many major cases for the Governor this month. We are hosting a ball in five days; you simply must come. We would love to hear your glorious deeds."

By now, Lynch was numb. He exchanged cards with the attendees who crowded around him with stiff, mechanical movements. Only then did he realize that his glorious image had begun to take root. The open shots and hidden arrows he had endured earlier were not in vain. However, whether he could achieve total success depended on the main course. If he couldn't pass that hurdle, the higher he climbed, the harder he would fall.

"Detective."

Who is it now? Lynch had developed a conditioned reflex. By the time he turned around, a stylized smile was already plastered on his face, but his expression softened as he let out a long breath of relief.

It was Director Hoffman of the Hall of Order, accompanied by two inspectors.

Lynch smiled bitterly and tipped his hat, saying half-jokingly: "Gentlemen, we have collaborated before. Even if we cannot call it friendship, I dare say I have not offended the Hall of Order. You don't have to sabotage me like this."

"Hehe, you are joking." The three high-ranking police officials also wore apologetic smiles. Inspector Bruno raised his glass awkwardly. "We didn't expect Count Lorand to value you so highly, but this is for the best. Having the opportunity to showcase your brilliance is not just for these nobles to see, but also for Princess Chloe, so she has no reason to refuse your participation."

"She... wanted to refuse?"

Lynch frowned, seemingly realizing something.

"She didn't exactly refuse, she was just hesitant. But after seeing that several high-ranking city officials recommended you, including Chairman Grant and Mayor Howard, Her Highness agreed. However, since you are not a public official and she is a princess from another kingdom, it is inconvenient for her to visit the Hall of Order or City Hall, so she invited you to meet in this setting. I suspect Count Lorand was testing you just now, hahaha."

A test? If it had stopped at appraising the collection, it would be a test. But with the addition of forged items, it had transcended the realm of a test and become a truly lethal trap.

However... I think I understand.

Lynch pieced it all together. The Princess and the Count probably never wanted him involved in the first place, but due to certain reasons or certain people, they found it inconvenient to refuse directly, so they staged this performance.

Why? I didn't lose any gems and beg for your help; you are the ones who need the assistance. Why refuse? And if you want to refuse, just refuse. I haven't provoked you; why try to crush me so I can't recover?

Lynch remained calm, but a wave of anger surged within him.

They played their hand too ruthlessly, willing to destroy his reputation entirely just to drive him away. Fine, today I shall see what exactly you are plotting.

"Ding-dong."

Just as Lynch’s expression turned grim, a crisp bell rang, and the ballroom doors suddenly swung open to both sides.

Six maids filed in, leading a gorgeously dressed young girl.

She was tall, but young, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. Her face still held a touch of childishness and innocence, yet her demeanor was already haughty.

She wore a white princess dress and a crown encrusted with jewels. She walked into the ballroom with a reserved smile, lifting her skirt to give a shallow bow to the crowd.

"Greetings, Your Highness."

Young, arrogant, willful, selfish, and haughty.

This was the assessment Miss Valente had gathered. Seeing her in person, she was indeed beautiful and possessed an air of noble luxury, but Lynch could not find a shred of affection for her.

Princess Chloe waved her hand dismissively, ignoring everyone, and walked straight toward Lynch. Lynch couldn't help but frown, because he felt that the Princess’s figure and carriage looked somewhat familiar.

I feel like I've seen her somewhere before.

"Are you Detective Lynch Levive?"

Her tone carried a condescending arrogance. Although this might be normal for a princess, Lynch still felt a surge of irritation. Nevertheless, he smiled faintly and said, neither servile nor overbearing: "At your service, Your Highness."

"At my service? Hehe, only those with status are qualified to serve the kingdom's royal family. Do you have that?" The Princess tilted her head, humming a light laugh. "Setting aside the question of service, who is your introducer for approaching a member of the royal family? Are these two inspectors your introducers?"

The main course has arrived. So soon?

Lynch’s smile turned grim, as this was his greatest weakness.

According to the social rules of this world's nobility, for a newcomer to enter high society, they must be introduced by two local people of high standing. It is, in effect, a form of guarantee—a vouching for the newcomer's character, status, wealth, and influence.

The higher the status of the introducer, the more weight the newcomer carries and the higher the circles they can access; the reverse is also true.

However, Lynch’s greatest problem was that, theoretically, his only introducers were the two inspectors from the Hall of Order.

It could barely be considered qualified; after all, they were public officials. But neither inspector held a title, possessed wealth, or had political standing. If it were confirmed that these two were his introducers, Lynch would truly lack the qualifications to collaborate with high-ranking nobles. Not only would it be impossible now, but because the gap in status would be solidified, no noble would interact with him much in the future just to maintain their own social standing.

Strictly following etiquette, Princess Chloe was not wrong. The problem was that, under normal circumstances, this was a known issue that everyone would tacitly avoid mentioning. To bring it up was not only rude but completely lacked noble grace.

However, this Princess was known for her arrogance, willfulness, and lack of social awareness, so her behavior did not surprise anyone. The room went silent, and everyone watched Lynch with the eyes of those looking for a spectacle.

It seems you really don't want me to interfere, even at the cost of trying to destroy me. Fine, then I am determined to see this through.

Using such tactics, do you really think I am afraid of you?

Lynch smiled faintly, then winked mysteriously. He raised his index finger to his lips and gave a light shush.

"Listen."

The next moment, the porter’s resonant voice drifted in from outside the mansion.

"From the House of Count Valente, Miss Diana de Valente, has arrived."