The new warden was a handsome man, very young—just past thirty. Upon seeing Charlot, he couldn’t help but laugh and said, “Mr. Mecklenburg, you really shouldn’t be working here anymore.”
Charlot didn’t know the man, but the man clearly knew him, which was rather intriguing.
Charlot could only respond, “I haven’t received a transfer order yet, so naturally I must fulfill my duty.”
The new warden smiled and said, “The first official business I’ll conduct is issuing Mr. Mecklenburg’s transfer order.”
Sure enough, the new warden summoned Charlot to his office and issued him the transfer order.
It wasn’t until Charlot received the transfer order that he realized he had been “honorably” appointed as Patrol Guard Commander of the Lukavaro District!
In the bureaucratic hierarchy, the positions of assistant clerks and chief clerks were colloquially known as “lower-ranking nobles.”
Reaching this rank provided an opportunity to become part of management, holding administrative status. As Patrol Guard Commander, Charlot’s new position was ranked as a third-class chief clerk, effectively meaning that Charlot Mecklenburg had once again been promoted beyond his original level. He was now a thirty-fifth rank official of the Empire.
According to imperial law, patrol guards across the nation were organized by districts. Each district had one Commander—a civilian post—and one Chief Patrol Officer—a military post—who jointly handled daily affairs. While patrol guards were nominally under the direct command of the Crown Prince, there had never been any instance of a Crown Prince meddling in patrol guard affairs.
In the Fars Empire, patrol guards across all districts were known for their inefficiency and chaotic operations. The fundamental reason was a complete lack of oversight, as they were not required to report to any superior.
Charlot’s new workplace was in the Lukavaro District, and his new title was:
Lukavaro District Patrol Guard Commander Charlot Mecklenburg
After receiving his transfer order, Charlot thanked the new warden, bade him farewell, and left Kilmainham Prison. Once aboard his carriage, he hesitated for a moment before deciding to first visit his new patrol guard office. After all, the adventurers could hold on for a few more days—this would only take a few hours.
Charlot was very curious about the state of the Lukavaro District patrol guards. He lived at 58 Elysée Avenue, right across from the Lukavaro District, and in his impression, there didn’t seem to be any patrol guards there.
Over an hour later, he stood staring at a desolate estate and repeatedly confirmed that this was indeed 1 Yansun Street, finally believing he hadn’t gone to the wrong place.
The Lukavaro District patrol guard office was located at the very west end of Yansun Street. Directly opposite was the Lukavaro District Administrative Bureau, which housed several departments working collaboratively. In terms of sheer size, the patrol guard office looked rather impressive, nearly on par with the Administrative Bureau opposite. It occupied a medium-sized estate spanning over six thousand pimi—almost the size of a standard football field. After all, the Outer Fifteen Districts were larger than the Upper Seven Districts, and land and property were much cheaper here.
However, the estate had clearly been abandoned for many years. There were no signs of anyone ever working here.
Charlot held his forehead and muttered to himself, “My impression wasn’t wrong—there really aren’t any patrol guards in the Lukavaro District.”
He was certain this was a deliberate scheme against him.
He had indeed been promoted, advancing from a thirty-seventh rank first-class chief clerk to a thirty-fifth rank third-class chief clerk. His salary had also increased significantly, rising from six flor and fifteen centimes per week to seven flor and twenty-five centimes. Additionally, he now held a seemingly prestigious and powerful title as Patrol Guard Commander of the Lukavaro District.
Typically, the Commander of a patrol guard had a higher administrative rank than the Chief Patrol Officer, giving the Commander greater status.
However, an entirely abandoned office building—with no staff in sight—meant Charlot was essentially a “commander without troops.” Clearly, someone was playing tricks behind the scenes. This was “banishment,” not an “honorary promotion.”
Charlot even stepped down from his carriage and walked through the desolate estate, confirming that it was indeed deserted—except for a few families of weasels—before getting back into the carriage.
This time, he wasted no more time and headed straight for Machubi.
Charlot wasn’t sure if it would help to find Miss Menielman, but he didn’t plan to seek her out anyway. While his senior was tall and beautiful, he had his own methods. A true man relied on himself rather than others.
What Charlot didn’t know was that Menielman had, by coincidence, fulfilled his prediction. She had become a naval officer. Not long after returning to Strasbourg, she was assigned to a fleet and had already left the capital, now fully occupied with military duties.
Halfway to Machubi, Charlot opened his coin pouch to find a thick stack of fifty-écu bills.
Charlot had expected the “dirty money” to be considerable, but he hadn’t thought it would be this much! After counting, there were exactly one hundred and fifty notes, totaling seven hundred and fifty écus.
Charlot had seized five écus from Wells and received two hundred écus from Louis Simy as an appraisal fee. Excluding loose change, his total assets now amounted to seven hundred and ninety-eight écus.
This “dirty money” had essentially doubled his wealth overnight.
Of course, this was not surprising.
Given Warden Magru Trell’s position, his personal wealth must have been immense. The sum handed to Charlot was likely only a small fraction of his total assets.
Charlot mused to himself, “With this money, I should be able to pay off the mortgage on 58 Elysée Avenue. I might even consider buying a carriage—or finding a way to start my own business.”
“As a transmigrator, how could I not have a money-making business?”
A day and a half later, Charlot once again saw Machubi Fortress, and his heart swelled with emotion.
Ever since Machubi had been fully labyrinthified, Charlot had established a subtle connection with the ancient Orc fortress ruins. He could sense most of what was happening inside the labyrinth, even without directly observing it.
This perception was weaker than his Eye of Insight—like trying to watch a movie with seven-hundred-degree nearsightedness but without glasses. He could follow the general plot but not see the characters’ faces.
Of course, this subtle connection only worked within a certain range. In Strasbourg, he couldn’t sense anything from Machubi.
As he approached the ancient Orc fortress, the connection to Machubi re-established itself. Charlot chuckled lightly and said, “Interesting. Lord Leo is trapped as well.”
Charlot instructed the carriage driver to wait outside and entered Machubi alone.
The meeting hall was already empty. The place was in complete disarray, with sword marks on the walls and floors, dents from axes, war hammers, and clubs, and two unfortunate corpses. However, the dead were not people Charlot recognized. It was clear that a battle had taken place here.
Charlot stood in the meeting hall for a moment before turning and strolling deeper into the fortress. His steps were calm and unhurried. He didn’t even draw his weapon, as though he were leisurely walking through his own home.