Charlot didn’t want to get involved in this matter any further.
Besides, he had no particularly deep friendship with Mrs. Pascal; their relationship was strictly professional. Sending a flor as condolence money and dispatching his personal coachman to deliver it was already quite a generous gesture. If he were to personally go, it would signify a “close friendship,” which could be considered an overstep in etiquette.
Mrs. Nancy acknowledged this with a nod and accepted the flor from Charlot’s hand.
Charlot also gave her two centimes as compensation for running the errand.
He glanced outside at the weather. The sky was dark and overcast, and rain still fell steadily. Without hesitation, Charlot decided to “skip work” again. After all, as the Head Overseer of the Lukavaro District City Patrol Guards, no one would question his “attendance.”
Letting the matter go, Charlot ate his meal while reading the duel challenge sent by Venie Arsenault. Yesterday, he had been so engrossed in studying Cat Spirit Magic that he hadn’t even had the chance to look at this “first-ever duel challenge” of his life.
The duel document followed the standard legal format, carrying the same weight as a real estate contract. There were three copies in total: one for each party involved and a third to be stored at the local city patrol guard office.
The duel was set for three days later!
The witnesses were Venie Arsenault and Aubrey Tildon Atwood!
The duel participants were Charlot Mecklenburg and Harriet Alva.
According to the duel regulations, Harriet Alva, as the challenger, determined the date, while Charlot Mecklenburg, as the acceptor, chose the location.
Addison’s full name was Addison Alva.
The Alva family was a middle-class household. Both children had been sent to school, and Harriet had even attended the National Academy. She subsequently entered the military as a Second-Class Gunnery Sergeant at rank 44. Now 32 years old, Harriet had been promoted steadily due to her bravery in battle. She currently held the position of Fifth-Class Gunnery Sergeant at rank 41—equivalent to a civil service Assistant Clerk, a First-Class Civil Servant, or a First-Class Gunnery Sergeant.
If it weren’t for some mishaps, Charlot himself would still be at rank 41 as a clerk.
Compared to Charlot, Harriet had over ten years of cultivation and frontline combat experience. Faced with such a battle-hardened soldier, Charlot would have avoided this duel if he had any choice.
After finishing his breakfast, Charlot signed the three copies of the duel document and chose Machubi Fortress as the duel location. He left two copies behind and tasked Mrs. Nancy with delivering the third to the Fierce Horse Detective Agency.
After breakfast, the rain showed no sign of stopping, nor did the sky clear.
Charlot returned to his room on the third floor and immersed himself once again in studying his diary and quietly practicing Blood Glory.
Since transforming Machubi into a labyrinth, Charlot’s mastery of Agmirlas Labyrinth had been improving steadily. Unfortunately, he hadn’t yet found a second suitable ruin-city to transform into a labyrinth. Cities like Strasbourg, which were still inhabited, were out of the question—unless he somehow became the ruler of the city.
Luckily, there were still over eight months before the Labyrinth God of the Aggras Sea descended, so he wasn’t in a rush.
Charlot’s primary focus remained on studying Vampiric Scroll 22. He had already mastered the Bloodflame Aura from the first page and Bloodfire Transfiguration from the second. Recently, his efforts on the third page, which recorded Flame Dragon’s Hand, had shown promising results.
Although he had already unlocked the fifth Blood Vortex after mastering the Agility Rune and could now pursue Spider Technique, Charlot decided against it. After weighing cost-effectiveness, he chose to fully focus on breaking through Flame Dragon’s Hand.
Unknowingly, the entire day passed.
As the room dimmed, Charlot lit an oil lamp. Feeling hungry, he glanced outside and saw that the sky had finally cleared.
He went downstairs and said to Mrs. Nancy, who was emerging from the basement, “I’ll eat out. You don’t need to prepare anything.”
Mrs. Nancy bowed slightly and watched him leave 58 Elysée Avenue.
...
Elysée Avenue was still lively at this hour. While some shops had already closed, others had lit kerosene street lamps. The wealthiest stores had even activated magical lamps, their expensive light shining through crystal glass to display luxurious goods to every passerby.
Charlot chose a restaurant he hadn’t tried before, ordered a set meal, and ate in his usual refined and composed manner. Just as he was cutting his food, a deep-eyed man with brown hair, gray eyes, and an upright nose pulled out a chair and sat opposite him.
What stood out most about this man were his ears. They were slightly higher up on his head, covered in fine fur, and notably larger than a human’s. It was a classic Orc appearance with a remarkably pure bloodline.
Such behavior was extraordinarily rude, but Charlot didn’t lose his composure. Instead, he immediately picked up his Alchemical Cane and drew his Magnum Mauler.
The brown-haired, gray-eyed man smiled slightly, unbothered by Charlot’s aggressive stance. He made a gesture for “calm.”
“Mr. Charlot, there’s no need to be so tense around Orcs!”
Charlot replied curtly, “By custom, you should address me as Mr. Mecklenburg. And yes, I am very tense. Are you from the Orc Assassin Alliance?”
Charlot’s Eye of Insight was screaming warnings. This time, it hadn’t activated until after the man sat down—proof of his overwhelming strength.
A powerful individual, an Orc with a pure bloodline, and an unexpected appearance...
Charlot was certain that this brown-haired, gray-eyed man was an assassin from the Orc Assassin Alliance.
As for why the assassin didn’t strike immediately? It was probably due to some... peculiar personal preference.
Assassins and killers weren’t known for being normal. Many of them had some form of mental quirks or bizarre hobbies.
The brown-haired, gray-eyed man smiled and said, “Alright, Mr. Mecklenburg, I am from the Orc Assassin Alliance.”
“One of my colleagues failed to complete his mission, so I’m here to finish it for him.”
Charlot took a deep breath, preparing to strike with all his might, when the man continued, “I have a bit of a... quirk.”
“I enjoy killing my target’s loved ones first, right in front of them...”
Charlot’s heart leaped with joy, and he immediately shouted, “The person I love most is Senior Menielman Soumet!”
The atmosphere froze in awkward silence.
The brown-haired man took a deep breath and said, “Could you choose someone else? For example...”
Charlot cut him off. “The Duchess of Messau!”
“I prefer older women—they’re much more... satisfying!”
The brown-haired man fell silent for a moment before murmuring coldly, “I suppose I can abandon this little quirk of mine.”
Charlot bit his Alchemical Cane, his figure blurred, and in a flash, he transformed into a young, agile cat. With a powerful leap, he sprang onto the rooftop.
He stepped swiftly across the tiles, twisted his waist, and narrowly avoided three throwing knives that whistled through the air. Like a streak of lightning, he darted out of the restaurant and into the night.