The Lady Officer's Efficiency

“This...”

Lynch immediately realized that this princess was the “friend” Duke Vane had mentioned. As for her purpose, it was most likely regarding Prince William.

“Mayor Howard has the parliament backing him—or more precisely, both industrial and commercial circles. Their cooperation with Prince William suggests the prince likely wants to leverage parliamentary power to secure his position as crown prince. The fact that Emperor Rudolph II hesitated and dared not touch him after the plot was exposed is proof of that.”

“From what I've observed, Duke Vane stands firmly on Rudolph's side. Now that the eldest princess has suddenly left Norin to come to her fief, she's probably planning something. Political struggle—heh, things are about to get lively.”

Drawing on his political struggle experience from palace dramas and historical shows in his past life, Lynch did his best to sort out the situation with Officer Natalie. Of course, more accurately, he was doing his best to analyze while Officer Natalie was doing her best to devour pastries, with an expression that plainly said: what on earth is this guy talking about?

“Never mind. I said, just go on and eat your cookies.”

Silly girl.

Then again, she had a point. Princesses, princes, political struggles—what did any of that have to do with them?

What could be better than lying on one's own sofa after risking life and limb, enjoying sweet cookies, and leisurely watching the sunset on the horizon?

Lynch curled his lip, snatched the cookie the lady officer had just picked up, and popped it into his mouth.

Truly delicious.

Dusting off his hands, he folded Miss Valente's letter, tucked it into the desk drawer, tossed the duke's letter onto the table, penned a brief reply to the duke in a few strokes, and sealed it in an envelope.

He would just wait for the postman to come by in the evening; for mail destined for such special locations, the carriers delivered them directly.

Lynch was already preparing a little gift.

“What's this?”

While Lynch was busy writing, Officer Natalie had finished her cookies and casually opened the Book of Purification.

The writing inside was completely incomprehensible, and there were no illustrations either—whether that was a blessing or a curse was anyone's guess.

Yet after she cursorily flipped through a few pages, several sheets of paper slipped out. The paper had already yellowed, but surprisingly, it wasn't brittle, still feeling soft to the touch.

“I completely forgot about those. I brought them back from the ancient tomb, though I have no idea what they are. They were placed alongside the Book of Purification and that hourglass. I figured they must be important, but since I couldn't read the script at all, I set them aside for the time being.”

“You didn't go ask the Archaeological Association?”

“Shh.” Lynch instinctively glanced out the window, terrified that President Olei might charge over to settle scores. “Right now, I can still get another share of the reward from them. If those folks find out I took the most important items from the main tomb chamber beforehand, knowing how stingy Olei is when it comes to hoarding knowledge, he might even force me to cough up a share.”

“You rascal... pulling this kind of trick again.”

The lady officer shot Lynch a glare, but something must have crossed her mind, as a faint smile crept onto the corner of her lips.

“Can't help it. Who told this world to revolve around money?”

Lynch pulled out a penny, waved it, and flicked it into the air. But just as he reached out to catch it, a dark blur flashed, and the penny landed straight into the lady officer's hand.

Wait, girl, is that what your authority and abilities are meant for?

Lynch watched dumbfounded as Officer Natalie rushed over, snatched the coin, and slipped it into her pocket. Realizing he couldn't beat her in a fight to get it back, he could only let out a deep sigh.

“I'll remember this one-pound grudge.”

“Get lost.” The lady officer gave him a light kick with the tip of her boot, then waved the sheets of paper. “Or how about going to ask those lunatics at the Knowledge Library?”

“I've considered it, but... I'm worried about another outcome like Mr. Klin's.”

Lynch's expression darkened with guilt. In the end, that mystery expert had died because of him, which caused a twisted Mr. Klin to frequently haunt his nightmares. More importantly, it had nearly killed another person indirectly—and that was the true regular guest in his nightmares.

“Hah, that's the destined fate of Soul Severers. No one can escape it.” The lady officer didn't bother with empty consolations like saying it wasn't his fault. Instead, she suddenly stood up, grabbed Lynch's hand, and yanked him to his feet. “Let's go. We're heading back to the Watchers.”

“Huh? Is your mind still under the influence of the Color Out of Space? Why are you suddenly acting crazy? Let go, don't drag me! Let me change my clothes first! Help, this woman has lost her mind!”

“Heheh, we're going to apologize to Mr. Klin, and by the way, I need to thank him.”

“??? I understand apologizing, but what are you thanking him for? Thanking him for dying?”

“None of your business.” It was impossible to tell why this girl was suddenly getting prickly again, but she still reminded him, “Bring those sheets of paper. On the way back, we can drop by the library. Those cultists might not even care about them, and we don't necessarily have to let them read the contents—just have them identify what kind of thing it is.”

High emotional intelligence: A woman with remarkable execution.

Low emotional intelligence: A woman who acts on whatever pops into her head without thinking at all.

Given the rapier at her side and the tall boots on her feet, Lynch chose the former.

Dragged out the door, Lynch couldn't help marveling at how nice it was to spend state money. For a trip that took only half an hour on foot, she actually chose a hired carriage.

“That's my own salary! Not public funds! And you're paying for today's fare!”

“Let go of me! I want to get off!”

In short, under the expressionless gaze of the coachman, the two got off outside the Scarecrow Club. As they stepped onto the stairs, they spotted a familiar face.

Dressed in light casual clothes, wearing a flat cap with a sneaky demeanor, and clutching a notebook in hand.

The female reporter, Maya, was currently being blocked by the security guard at the door.

“If you won't let me in, fine, but at least give me a little information! I heard something huge happened in a certain town, and something was even transported back.”

“No comment, no comment. Ask again and you won't be leaving at all.”

“Excuse us. Don't block the way.”

Lynch tapped Maya on the back, internally marveling at how bold this girl still was.

“Oh, sorry.”

Maya instinctively stepped aside, but quickly realized who it was. Turning around, she said in surprise, “Mr. Lynch, Officer Angel! Quick, quick, put in a good word for me and let me inside! I'll just ask a few questions and leave.”

I come from the information age—if a reporter's word could be trusted, evil gods would be doing charity work.

Still...

Lynch pondered for a moment before exchanging a few words with the familiar security guard.

By now, the guards here had reached the point where seeing Lynch was as natural as seeing nothing at all. With a wave of a hand, the guard let Maya in.

Maya was grinning from ear to ear. “Heheh, thank you, Mr. Detective! Then I'll go—”

“You're not going anywhere. Come with us.” Lynch turned to Officer Natalie and said, “I have something in mind and want to bring her along to discuss it with Mr. V.”

The lady officer didn't ask further. Having placed absolute trust in Lynch, she nodded and walked inside. Soon, in Mr. V's familiar office, the three met Mr. V, who wore his usual stern, stiff expression.

“What? One night of observation wasn't enough, and you want a few more nights?”

The lady officer blankly sipped her superior's black tea, having completely missed the innuendo.

Meanwhile, Lynch's eyelids twitched violently. Hastily changing the subject, he said, “I have an idea, and since Maya is here, I'd like to take the chance to discuss it with you both.”

“Following Maya's vision, I think we could let her start the newspaper she's been wanting to publish—a specialized newspaper catering specifically to the world of mystery.”