"Whoa!"
A sound echoed as the sliding wooden window above the carriage was opened, revealing a face—golden hair, flawless skin, well-proportioned features, as beautiful as a woman yet not feminine, but rather exuding elegance.
This was Sherlock, who had been so exceptionally talented that he was both exploited (valued) and forced to leave his family, and had recently escaped to Farlo City.
A while ago, by coincidence, he ran into Richard and reestablished contact. Richard also learned that Sherlock was doing some business in the black market to earn money to meet his terrifying expenses.
"My dearest friend!" Sherlock spoke, greeting Richard with a warm smile. "I heard you wanted information on the Ancestor Spirit Association? As soon as I got your message, I brought it to you personally. Aren't you touched? Uh, right, the information is here, for you."
As he spoke, Sherlock handed a stack of papers through the window.
