Arthur didn't respond to him, his tall figure casting a highly oppressive shadow under the dim gas lamp in front of the door.
He walked forward of his own accord, his sharp gaze signaling Elias to enter the house.
Elias shrunk his neck reflexively and honestly slipped inside.
Before he could even steady himself, Arthur's iron-clamp-like hand had already grabbed Elias's arm, pulling him into the warm foyer.
Only the key remained lonely in the door's lock.
"Wait! The key! The key, Arthur!"
Elias staggered from the pull, not forgetting to point behind him in his panic.
After this slightly pathetic little interlude, Elias finally had to face his police detective elder brother in front of the familiar living room fireplace.
To break the dead silence after entering, Elias decided to yield first.
"Arthur, that letter... you received it, right?"
He said, a fawning smile appearing on his face.
"The job I found this time is quite good."
Elias spoke rapidly, fearing interruption.
"Room and board included, and I can even go fishing every day."
"And I can get along well with my colleagues working at sea."
"Look!"
He pointed to his suitcase already placed in the living room.
"I even brought gifts for you and Lottie."
"They were all gifts from colleagues when I first started; it would have been rude to refuse."
However, Arthur's face was so dark it looked like it could drip water.
Elias felt a mysterious power called bloodline suppression at work.
Logically, as a transmigrator who had seen evil god spawn, argued with a dream demon, and even dared to use Molotov cocktails to blow up a carapace husk, he shouldn't feel so afraid of an ordinary human policeman.
But involuntarily, when he met Arthur's eyes, a sense of inexplicable guilt always welled up in his heart.
Suddenly, Arthur moved.
He took a long stride, approaching step by step.
"Come here, you little bastard!"
Arthur's voice was low and hoarse, carrying suppressed rage.
It's over.
Elias wailed in his heart.
Looks like I'm getting a beating.
Damn original body!
If you hadn't hidden from the family and run off to that godforsaken island to die, letting the dream demon torment you and facing a Lovecraftian seafood feast, why would I be in this mess!
Not only do I have to clean up your mess, but I also have to take this family punishment for you!
Arthur opened his arms, his posture as wide as a brown bear preparing to pounce.
Is he going to use a through-the-back fist?!
Elias closed his eyes in despair, his muscles tensed, ready for the impact.
Although he had drunk the spirit vision potion and his physical fitness had been slightly enhanced to some extent—his ability to take a hit should be stronger than before—the beating he was about to receive wasn't about physical pain, but the psychological debt to his family.
However, the expected pain did not arrive.
Instead, it was a warm hug.
A pair of powerful arms hugged him tightly, squeezing his ribs until they hurt.
Elias snapped his eyes open, somewhat dazed.
Arthur didn't hit him; he gave him a suffocating hug.
Then, Arthur pinched the back of his neck with one hand, his grip so strong it was as if he were confirming Elias was truly alive.
"In the future, if something happens, discuss it with me!"
Arthur's voice exploded in his ear, carrying a trace of undetectable trembling.
"If you do something like this again, I'll whip you with the belt Dad left behind!"
"I told you, you don't need to worry about money!"
"You're a damn stubborn mule!"
Although Arthur was cursing, his actions were the complete opposite.
He vigorously rubbed Elias's head, turning that already messy chestnut hair into a bird's nest.
Is this what it's like when the eldest brother acts as a father?
Feeling the warmth from the hand on his neck, something hard in Elias's heart seemed to soften at this moment.
In his previous life, he was an only child and never had the chance to experience this kind of familial affection between siblings.
He didn't expect to experience it in another world after dying.
That sounds a bit strange?
Anyway, the expected family punishment was not carried out.
After that awkward yet touching moment of warmth, the two sat back down on the somewhat sagging old sofa.
Just then, a light pitter-patter of footsteps came from the stairs.
Charlotte, who had just finished packing her luggage, came down.
Seeing the two in the living room, a surprised smile appeared on her face, and she naturally squeezed in to sit next to Arthur.
Thus, the three Rockland siblings sat together in front of the fireplace, forming a long-lost complete picture in this house.
However, the warm atmosphere didn't last long before Arthur and Charlotte switched to interrogation mode.
"Tell us, what kind of job did you actually find this time?"
Arthur leaned forward, crossing his hands under his chin, returning to his detective persona, looking at him with searching eyes.
"Room and board included, and fishing every day?"
"So it's by the sea?"
Charlotte also asked, her amber eyes flickering with suspicion.
"What kind of seaside job has such good benefits?"
Elias's heart skipped a beat.
These two siblings were sharper than the next.
"I'm telling the truth!"
Elias didn't blink or miss a beat, putting on an innocent expression of being wronged.
"Actually, I found a job as a sailor."
"At the Wayland Shipping Company."
Elias threw out the explanation he had prepared long ago, his tone firm.
Of course, this explanation was something he had deeply considered.
First, being a crew member, a sailor, drifting at sea, naturally includes room and board; the logic was perfectly closed.
And he was originally an employee of the Wayland company anyway.
Second, in this era, being a sailor was not a stable job; instead, it carried considerable risks.
Storms, pirates, even some "sea monsters" that everyone was tight-lipped about.
Since there's danger, it's normal to get high returns, right?
This way, the huge sum of 12 gold crowns he sent back would be easy to explain.
Otherwise, he knew very well how much fishy business was in that lighthouse keeper job; it was practically dancing with his head tucked into his waistband.
Not to mention Arthur was a policeman.
He didn't want Charlotte to get involved in transcendent matters, and by the same token, he didn't want Arthur involved either.
"A sailor?"
Arthur frowned.
"A ship from the Wayland company? That is indeed a large company..."
Between guarding a lighthouse and being a sailor, both were living off the sea; strictly speaking, he wasn't lying.
Perfect!
"No wonder you've tanned a bit."
Arthur reached out, stroking the bit of new green stubble on Elias's chin, his tone softening a bit.
"You look a lot sturdier too."
"Yeah!"
"The wind and sun at sea build character."
Elias nodded along.
"Oh?"
Just when Elias thought he had gotten away with it, a crisp but somewhat playful voice suddenly rang out.
"I smell a lie!"
Charlotte suddenly leaned in, her small nose sniffing forcefully in the air.
Elias was startled, a layer of cold sweat instantly seeping out of his back.
This little girl's Norse bloodline is really no joke!
She can even tell this?
He had managed to fool the Seventh Agency's investigators and trick the black-hearted merchant Redbeard; was he going to fail here today with this underage girl?
Hearing Charlotte's statement, Arthur's relaxed brow furrowed again, letting out a majestic questioning sound.
"Hmm?"
The atmosphere instantly froze.
A log in the fireplace popped with a "crack," sparks flying.
Before Charlotte spoke again, Elias didn't dare say much; after all, the more you say, the more you lose, and explanations are just cover-ups.
He could only pretend to be bewildered, letting out a confused: "Huh?"
He blinked, signaling her to continue, trying to use playing dumb to defeat her "magic."
Charlotte stared into his eyes, suddenly wearing an expression of having seen through everything.
She crossed her arms and said firmly: "I heard it! You said you got along well with your colleagues!"
"But you were crying at the train station today!"
Crying?
Elias was stunned.
Wasn't that because of the dust in my hometown?!
The wind was blowing right into my eyes!
Before he could retort, Charlotte continued her rapid-fire output:
"I asked if you were being bullied, and you said no."
"But it's obvious you're just being stubborn!"
The little girl leaned in front of him and concluded in a tone that had already grasped the truth:
"You must have been bullied, right?"
Rate on N.U.
