I Am Lynch Levive

The long-awaited ball kicked off in this manner, amidst a joint celebration between both sides.

Lynch exhaled, picked up a glass of juice, and gulped it down, only then subduing the surging blood in his chest.

Though merely a bystander in that battle fought purely within the realm of consciousness, it had left his blood boiling.

In truth, neither President Olei of the Archaeological Association nor President Gulman of the Arcane Research Society had shown themselves at the ball, and Lynch was certain the enemy had not made an appearance in person either.

Yet this was precisely the kind of power he believed high-tier figures ought to possess.

Fists to flesh, direct combat—he was still stuck at that level, even feeling smug about slaying a single Snake Man. Yet as his strength grew, as long as he survived, he would eventually reach such heights.

Unaware of one's physical whereabouts, yet their sheer influence was already bearing down upon everyone.

Much like Elder Nikolai of the hillmen whom he encountered when he first arrived—who had no need to lift a finger, but could trigger devastating outcomes with nothing more than a distant glance.

Lynch was snapped back to reality by a tidal wave of applause.

By the time he came to his senses, Her Highness the Princess had already concluded her opening speech on behalf of the King.

According to Miss Valente, the royal family had made quite the lavish gesture this time, drawing twenty thousand pounds straight from the royal treasury to support epidemic prevention efforts across the Rhine territory.

Furthermore, should the situation worsen, the royal family promised to mobilize specialists from across the nation to assist Rhine and ensure this battle was won together.

Winning public support often worked this way; it seemed turning a misfortune into a political triumph was an indispensable tactic for politicians in any world.

While it was indeed good news worth celebrating, the atmosphere across the venue remained somewhat subtle. Not everyone was as delighted as they appeared, and Lynch sensed that the smiles on several faces were rather strained.

As Lynch was pondering those smiles, the old Duke took over speaking from the Princess, his voice carrying across the entire venue with the aid of an amplifying arcana:

“Today, the most beautiful flower in all of Lande blooms upon our soil of Rhine. Children of Rhine City, you are all outstanding youths who embody both wisdom and courage. How could you bear to watch such a lovely blossom bloom in solitude?”

This old man must have been quite the playboy in his youth. His ballroom banter was second to none, igniting the fervor among the youths with just a few phrases.

Lynch thought with a trace of mischief: isn't this old fox afraid he won't be able to de-escalate things in the end?

“I now declare the ball officially open! Come, children of Rhine, let me see which young gentleman can move Her Highness's heart and be the first to kiss the back of her hand!”

Bang, bang, bang.

This time, it was champagne.

Golden wine sprayed into the air, shimmering with dreamlike hues beneath the lights to signify the official start of the ball. The orchestra transitioned smoothly into an interlude, its soothing melody quickly easing the guests into relaxation.

The broad, smooth flagstone terrace before the gates served as the perfect dance floor, illuminated as bright as day under the gas lamps.

Waiters bearing trays began bustling through the crowd. Guests gradually gathered before the entrance, waiting for the first brave champion to step forward.

Yet the atmosphere momentarily stalled in a stalemate as the young men exchanged glances, none daring to take the first step.

Just as Lynch was looking around, the first brave contender finally appeared. A tall young man in a crisp white uniform strode toward the Princess. His posture was ramrod-straight, his stride measured and precise—his background unmistakable at a single glance.

“Lande Navy, Southern Fleet, Captain of the Hope, Viscount Brad, wishing Her Highness everlasting youth. I hope to have the honor of being Her Highness's dance partner and sharing the first dance with you.”

As expected, a military man through and through.

“It has been quite a while, Lord Viscount. So you were transferred to Rhine for garrison duty; no wonder I hadn't seen you in Norin.” Princess Sophia offered an elegant smile. “However, Lord Viscount, this is Rhine City after all. There is no need for you to contend with our friends in Rhine. Why not rest a moment, and I shall share the second dance with you?”

“Your Highness, His Grace the Duke asked for the most outstanding just now.” With that, his posture straightened even further.

Befitting a noble—even their military men knew how to insult someone in a roundabout way. Even Lynch found himself mentally scoffing: who the hell do you think you are, a Norin guy coming to throw his weight around in Rhine? Let alone everyone else.

Sure enough, a young man in a bright crimson formal suit strode out in the next instant, blazing toward the Princess with an aura so intense Lynch almost mistook him for an assassin rather than a contender.

Fortunately, upon reaching Viscount Brad's side, he merely gave a deep bow and announced in a loud voice, “I, Jett Williams, son of Chairman Williams of the House of Peers, hope to share a dance with Your Highness, and beg for the honor of Your Highness's company.”

“Williams, Speaker of the House of Lords, represents the Rhine nobility and is the mortal rival of Chairman Grant of the House of Commons. He is slick and keeps a low profile, but his son Jett has a stellar reputation in noble circles and is considered a rising political star. Since he has stepped forward, then—”

“Didn't you hear the requirement? They asked for the most outstanding; you don't fit the criteria at all.” A young man wearing a powdered wig, traditional aristocratic attire, and silk stockings had appeared behind Jett without anyone noticing. He bowed to the Princess. “Special Professor at the Institute of Heraldry, Third Secretary of the Governor's Office, Viscount Kaelin Jackson, invites Her Highness the Princess to grace us with her presence, so that all of Rhine may appreciate our flawless dancing.”

As he spoke, he turned to wink at Jett. “That's Viscount Jackson, not the son of somebody, mind you.”

The son of Viscount Williams in the crimson suit sneered through his nose. “So one's father dying early is something to brag about now? In that case, I truly cannot compete with you.”

“You...”

“Why haven't they started tearing each other apart yet? If it were me, I wouldn't stand for it—I'd bite his ears, stomp his toes, gouge his eyes, ow—”

Natalie, you crazy woman, why the hell did you stomp on my toes?

“Honestly, saying such ungraceful, bizarre things.” Miss Valente snickered, acting as if she hadn't seen the violent act. “That's just about it: the military, the government, the Governor's Office. This is the very trouble I mentioned that the old Duke and the Princess wished to avoid. Choosing any one of them will provoke resentment from the other two. It all depends on your... huh?”

The ever-composed noble lady's gaze narrowed. Under her watch, yet another person stepped out from beside a slightly portly man weighing some two hundred kilograms—the very same slightly portly man who had looked displeased earlier.

“That is Anthony, the late Howard's deputy. It is virtually certain he will be the next mayor.”

“Huh? Isn't the mayor supposed to be elected?”

“Heh... The one stepping forward is his eldest son, James. Supposedly, he studied abroad in Friedman for a few years and only returned a little over a year ago, yet his standing among the circle of Rhine merchants' scions is already quite significant. What is he doing stepping out? On such an occasion, before someone of Princess Sophia's status, unless under extraordinary circumstances, one without a noble title has no right to invite a guest for the first dance.”

“On behalf of all members of the House of Commons and all common citizens of Rhine City, I invite Her Highness the Princess to share the first dance.”

Lynch furrowed his brow. “Did I just get represented again?”

Officer Natalie sneered from the side. “Some people always fancy they can represent everyone, when in truth they only represent the few with vested interests.”

Miss Valente said nothing, merely scanning the entire venue with a solemn expression, as if waiting for something. Sure enough, another person emerged shortly.

This person walked out from beside Chairman Grant, next to whom stood a man who was constantly stooped. The stooped man looked ordinary and dressed simply, but the one walking out had hair glistening with pomade, was dripping in jewels, and was dressed like a proud peacock. Before he even arrived, he called out cheerfully in a loud voice:

“Since someone has already represented all commoners, then on behalf of all ordinary, humble young gentlemen in Rhine, let me display the fiery passion of the people of Rhine to Her Highness!”

With that, he even produced a fiery red rose.

“As expected... The stooped man is Berich from the shipping association. With five fleets under his command, his business is massive; he could be considered the richest man in Rhine, with close ties to Friedman and several nations in the New Continent. He isn't officially part of Parliament, but he is secretly close to them. A few days ago, it was said Chairman Grant borrowed a huge sum of money from him for some reason—around ten thousand pounds—so they've been quite close recently.”

Yeah, I have no idea either—what did he borrow so much money for? Lynch gave a subtle sigh.

“The one who stepped out is his son, Little Berich. I don't know much about him, but he's supposedly a textbook playboy, thoroughly unlikable. Yet because Berich dotes on him, his status is quite high. He represents the voice of a large portion of the business community. Whew, I understand now.”

“Hm?” Both Lynch and the lady officer looked at her with expressions that practically screamed, what do you mean you understand? What did you understand this time?

“It is troublesome to explain. In short, Howard is dead, and Prince William's future is bleak. The parliamentary faction likely feels under attack, so they are using this method to force the other heir to take a stand. If the Princess is willing to compromise and break custom by dancing the first dance with a commoner, it signifies the royal family's concession. The conflict between the parliamentary faction and the royal family might ease temporarily, but the royal family will alienate the nobility. Conversely, if the Princess chooses a noble, the parliamentary faction is very likely to cause an uproar—and not just the one in Rhine, but likely across the entire country.”

Miss Valente sighed, shaking her head.

“So that was what the parliamentary faction had in mind. My earlier considerations were far too shallow, thinking it was merely internal strife among the nobility; I never expected an even greater trouble. Mr. Lynch, have you made up your mind? Whom will you dance your first dance with?”

“Hm?”

Hiding behind her folding fan, Miss Valente whispered by Lynch's side, “The situation is more complicated than imagined. Stepping forward now could offend all factions in Rhine if you are not careful, causing endless trouble. Furthermore, Her Highness the Princess is the target of an attack tonight; sharing the first dance with her might be exceedingly dangerous.”

“Would they really make their move at such an obvious moment?”

“Such assassinations must take place in public; the more attention it draws, the better. An assassination where nobody is watching isn't entirely meaningless, but its impact would be minimal.”

Lynch nodded. No wonder the other side had attempted to strike during the Princess's condolences and at the ball's opening.

“So if you do not wish to be dragged into trouble, you might as well refrain from muddying the waters. Her Highness the Princess might very well resolve it herself. Nor do you need to worry about your first dance. Someone has to go on patrol shortly and probably won't have a chance to dance, so once the Princess finishes, you can accompany her before she heads out.”

“I'm not heading out on patrol that early, and going on patrol isn't like descending into the Dreamlands—I can come back. There's no need to use me as an excuse. On the other hand, someone who draws so much attention might be mocked behind her back if she doesn't even get his first dance, suffering humiliation for quite a while. That person should mind her own business.” Officer Natalie turned her head away and scoffed, “I'm patrolling soon anyway, so I won't make it. Dancing or not has nothing to do with me, and I couldn't care less who he dances with.”

Huh? What was going on with these two? While Lynch felt somewhat touched, their attitudes were a bit concerning.

The main problem was the pair of gazes from his left and right making him break into a cold sweat—and somewhere in a hidden corner behind him lurked two more. Lynch couldn't shake the feeling of a certain predecessor smiling and waving at him from a boat.

“Ahem, having accepted benefits from others, one ought to display some sincerity. But looking at this, my competition is quite fierce.”

With that, Lynch straightened his top hat, adjusted his bowtie, fixed his collar and cuffs, dusted off his trousers, and smiled at the two ladies beside him before placing his glass into Officer Natalie's hand:

“It's showtime. Hold this for me, woman. I shall drink it upon my triumphant return—hold it tight, and don't let it get cold.”

The lady officer glanced at the red wine in her hand, even tested its temperature with her finger, and promptly gave him a look reserved for the mentally deficient.

Lynch curled his lip. Woman, discrimination against the disabled is forbidden, and that includes brain damage.

Giving a light cough, he twirled his cane and walked toward the steps.

Whoosh. In an instant, Lynch felt the gazes of several thousand people converge upon him. Beyond physical sight, countless invisible eyes converged upon him in all manner of uncanny ways. Even the Princess and the Duke wore rare expressions of surprise, glancing at each other with barely concealed delight in their eyes.

Though intensely nervous inside, Lynch simultaneously felt a surge of thrilling excitement. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the sky and smiled.

What are you looking at? Scram.

After smiling, Lynch held his head high, chest puffed out, and strode to the front of the steps.

The five young men gathered at the foot of the steps, awaiting the Princess's decision while continuing their passive-aggressive bickering. Sensing a shift in the surrounding atmosphere, they turned back instinctively, only to see Lynch dressed in splendid attire, standing proudly behind them. Seeing them turn around, he flashed them a brilliant smile and nudged the two in the middle with his cane:

“Pardon me, make way.”

The two instinctively stepped back two paces, clearing a path down the middle. Clasping his hands behind his back, Lynch gave them a reserved nod, offered a polite word of thanks, and leisurely stepped up several stairs.

“Halt! Who are you, and what do you think you're doing?”

Lynch paused, turning around unhurriedly. “What do you think? Inviting Her Highness the Princess to share the first dance, of course. Got a problem with that?”

“On what grounds? Who do you think you are?”

“Private Detective Lynch Levive. As for on what grounds...” Lynch turned to the two non-nobles and pointed at his own nose. “I'm a commoner as well, but what I detest most is being represented without my consent. Both of you wanted to represent me; Lynch is very angry, and the consequences are very severe, so I've stepped forward right now to teach you a lesson. Displeased? Hold it in until you can beat me.”

Turning to the three nobles, he pointed at his nose again. “I am a commoner, but day and night I have dedicated my life, sweat, and blood to Lande. By virtue of my dedication alone, I have the right to stand here. Her Highness has always favored being close to the subjects Lande values most. Are you trying to ruin Her Highness's opportunity to showcase her closeness to the people? If not, stay down there and watch.”

Having rebuked all five of them, Lynch ascended another step. Still pointing at his nose, he addressed all five of them: “On what grounds? Because I am Lynch Levive! Because the day before yesterday, I took a blade before Her Highness! I bled for Her Highness, and the bloodstained clothes from that day are still stored in the cabinet at my house! So, my brave, noble, glorious, and wealthy gentlemen, facing that absent bloodstained coat, put your hands on your chests and tell me: in the presence of the hero who saved the Princess, which of you believes he is more qualified than I to invite Her Highness for the first dance? Hm?”

His gaze swept across the five faces one by one, the commanding presence he had cultivated over time lending him an intimidating aura. Left utterly speechless by his questions, the five young men could only lower their heads in defeat, no matter how indignant they felt inside.

“And most importantly...” Lynch flashed a brilliant smile once more. “Inviting Her Highness to dance depends entirely on whether Her Highness is pleased. This one—pleased. Those five—not pleased.”

With that, Lynch turned back toward the Princess, swiftly climbed the remaining steps, knelt on one knee before Her Highness Sophia, and raised his right hand upward:

“I, Lynch Levive, representing only myself, invite Her Highness Sophia to share the entirety of the first dance with me.”

Princess Sophia stood upright before Lynch, her lake-like gaze resting on his face. Amidst the breathless silence of the entire audience, she gazed at him for a long moment before breaking into an elegant smile, placing her hand gently onto Lynch's palm.

Boom!

Fireworks burst across the sky as the entire venue erupted in cheers.