Knocking on the door of the Cat Detective Agency, Charlot immediately encountered a young girl about the same age as Sylvie. Sitting in a small room off to the side of the entrance, she offered a bright smile and greeted him politely. “Sir, how may I assist you today?”
Charlot glanced at the nameplate on her desk: Miss Meimi, Trainee Detective, Graduate of Yinge National Institute.
With a faint smile, he replied, “I have a matter to consult with Miss Venie Arsenault. I don’t have an appointment, but we’re acquainted. My name is Charlot Mecklenburg.”
Meimi tugged at a rope inside the room. In the Fars Empire, where telephones and telegraphs had yet to be invented, there were still peculiar methods for indoor communication, such as this rope-and-bell signaling system. Different patterns of pulls could relay various messages.
Of course, in powerful Old Continent nations, magical alchemical communication devices existed. While less convenient for short distances compared to telegraphs or telephones, their range extended far greater.
After a moment, a small bell rang, and Meimi smiled again. “I’ll take you upstairs.”
A clear and lively voice chimed in, “Meimi, I’ll take him up instead!”
Sylvie Martin trotted down the stairs, nodded politely to Meimi, and added with a grin, “Charlot is my cousin.”
Meimi’s face lit up with understanding. Lifting her long skirt slightly, she gave a modest curtsy befitting a lady’s daily manners.
Charlot placed one hand over his chest and returned a formal Imperial Salute before following Sylvie upstairs.
As they ascended, Sylvie chattered cheerfully, “Meimi is a good person. She graduated a year ahead of me and is already an outstanding trainee detective. She’ll likely become an assistant detective next year. But you’d better not take any interest in her.”
Charlot looked slightly awkward and replied, “Can we not bring up the past?”
Sylvie glanced back with a teasing smile. “Alright, my dear cousin. You’ve really changed.”
Charlot thought to himself, Breaking ties with my old social relationships is a smart move. Fortunately, my ex-fiancée isn’t sharp enough to see through my act—otherwise, I’d already be exposed.
Sylvie led him to the office of the director. After bowing respectfully, she exited the room.
Charlot immediately noticed another person in the room.
It was a man who appeared unusually young, though it was clear he was anything but. His sharp gaze held an ageless wisdom, as if he could see through the complexities of life and time itself. Those piercing eyes were so striking that Charlot momentarily forgot to study his features.
It took him a few minutes to recover his senses, and he thought to himself, He looks exactly the same, yet his demeanor is so different. He’s not the one who tried to kill me at No. 1 Falcon Street!
Venie Arsenault’s lake-blue eyes flashed with a peculiar surprise. “No fighting in my office,” she warned.
Charlot raised his brows slightly and asked, “I wouldn’t consider myself reckless. Why the warning, Miss Arsenault?”
The man smiled faintly. “Venie was referring to me. Mr. Mecklenburg, this is our first meeting, but I’ve long heard of you.”
“I am Aubrey Tildon Atwood, Director of the Fierce Horse Detective Agency.”
“Mr. Mecklenburg, you’ve killed eight of my subordinates. Quite impressive.”
Charlot suddenly had the feeling, Should I fight to the death again? Summon that Evil God one more time?
Aubrey Tildon Atwood, however, showed no intention of making a move. Clearly, Venie Arsenault’s earlier warning had been effective.
With a sigh, Charlot sat on one of the sofas in the office and said, “I didn’t want to either, but the price offered by the former warden was far too tempting. Your detectives were simply too brave for their own good.”
“Allow me to formally introduce myself: Charlot Mecklenburg, Commander of the Lukavaro District City Patrol Guards, Chief Clerk of the Thirty-Fifth Rank, and a loyal lackey of Senior Menielman Soumet.”
Venie Arsenault couldn’t suppress her laughter, her voice soft and melodious, pleasant to the ear.
Even Aubrey Tildon Atwood’s lips curled into a faint smile. “Indeed, if not for that title, I would have killed you here myself rather than hiring an assassin.”
“Since you’ve come to No. 22 Madile Street, I assume the assassin I sent failed?”
“You killed him?”
Charlot shrugged. “No. He took one look at me from afar and left.”
Venie Arsenault appeared mildly surprised. “Aubrey hired a mid-tier Transcendent. How did you possibly force him to retreat?”
Charlot replied calmly, “He ended up at No. 1 Falcon Street, where he happened to encounter the Lukavaro City Patrol Guards in training—over two hundred men. That might have been a bit excessive.”
“After all, Mr. Atwood only paid him for one job.”
Charlot’s response was humorous yet subtle, devoid of any sharpness.
Aubrey Tildon Atwood pondered deeply for a moment before speaking. “I understand now. Mr. Mecklenburg appears to possess modest abilities on the surface, yet the power you truly wield far surpasses that impression.”
“During our first investigation, you were still classified as a Tier-1 Transcendent. I sent Wells and Addison, and suddenly, you were no longer just Tier-1.”
“When I dispatched Winterburn, you exceeded even Tier-4!”
“Miss Arsenault invited me here today to settle our grudge, but the deaths of my eight subordinates cannot simply be brushed aside.”
“I have a proposal: let’s settle this through a duel.”
Charlot asked, “Will you be fighting personally?”
He had already decided to hold the duel in Machubi. Although Aubrey Tildon Atwood was a high-tier Transcendent, escaping the labyrinth there would not be easy. If he could somehow lead him into a confrontation with Lord Leo, it might rid him of this nuisance once and for all.
Aubrey shook his head. “I promised Miss Arsenault I wouldn’t take action personally.”
“Though, back then, I assumed you’d already been taken care of by an assassin.”
“In hindsight, I underestimated you, Mr. Mecklenburg. I agreed too hastily, but I’m not one to break my word.”
“The duelists will be Wells, Addison, Winterburn, or perhaps a relative of one of the detectives you killed.”
“Blood for blood—an open, public duel. Who could call that unfair?”
Charlot nodded slightly. He understood now that Aubrey Tildon Atwood still harbored some fear toward Senior Menielman Soumet. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have taken such a roundabout approach.
After all, openly killing a Thirty-Fifth Rank Imperial Civil Servant was not easy to justify.
According to Imperial law, Charlot hadn’t done anything wrong.
Aubrey Tildon Atwood smiled faintly. “Then please await the formal duel challenge, Mr. Mecklenburg.”
With that, the renowned detective rose, took his hat, and nodded slightly to Venie Arsenault before leaving the office with composed steps.