"Extra! Extra!"
"Sheriff Swart Cracks the Serial Robbery and Murder Case!"
"Extra! Extra!"
"Sheriff Swart Single-Handedly Takes on Six Criminals!"
...
Early in the morning, as the newspaper boy's crisp shouts echoed through the streets, Goethe already had an ironed newspaper in his hand.
The newspaper had been ironed by Swart.
Not only did the sheriff iron a copy for Goethe, but he also ironed fifty copies in total, distributing them around the police station—if the newspaper boy had more than fifty papers, Swart would have ironed even more.
It was clear that the small mishap from the night before hadn't dampened the sheriff's enthusiasm.
He paid for the newspapers generously.
He even brought breakfast for Goethe.
Two ham and egg sandwiches, along with a glass of apple juice.
According to Swart, this was the standard breakfast in the sheriff's dining room, a step above what the regular officers got.
Next to the breakfast were Goethe's wallet and dagger.
At the moment, Goethe's wallet contained one 100-unit, one 50-unit, and five 10-unit gold notes, along with 3 silver sols and 17.5 copper pence.
As Goethe counted the money in his wallet, the exchange rates of 'Tessine's currency' immediately came to mind.
1 gold crown equals 12 silver sols.
1 silver sol equals 20 copper pence.
Copper pence come in denominations of 1, half, and a quarter.
The price of a pound of black bread he'd bought earlier was about one and a quarter copper pence.
"It's not decimal-based... a bit hard to get used to."
Goethe couldn't help but rub his temples.
But this didn't stop him from carefully examining the gold notes, silver sols, and copper pence.
The gold notes were somewhat similar to the banknotes from his homeland.
The silver sols and copper pence were coins.
The front featured a man with a crown, and the back had a sheaf of wheat and the number 1.
The half copper pence was also a coin, but half the size of a full copper pence.
The quarter copper pence was half the size of the half copper pence.
"George I."
Looking at the man's face on the coin, a memory surfaced in Goethe's mind.
This was the emperor who founded a great empire, with countless legends surrounding him, such as "Son of the Dragon," "Blessed by the Fairy," "The Invincible Knight," and more.
However, the emperor's end was not a happy one. He was betrayed by the woman he loved and his most trusted subordinate, with a sword piercing his heart.
There were rumors that the emperor didn't die but returned to the Fairy Lake to heal and would return someday.
Others said he was taken back to Dragon Island by a dragon.
Despite the numerous legends, people still remember him a hundred years later.
But for Goethe, he didn't care about these stories; he only cared about the money in his hand.
"Ah, the smell of money!"
Goethe sighed with a sense of satisfaction, feeling even his fatigue lift slightly.
It's worth noting that after yesterday's events, everything was left to Swart and his subordinates. Goethe only testified briefly before resting in Swart's office.
Though he could have gone to an inn, for safety reasons, Goethe chose to stay in Swart's office chair.
He didn't want to risk getting his throat slit in his sleep.
Naturally, there was a price for this.
The hard chair was far from accommodating for Goethe's body, so he had to half-sit, half-lean with his legs on Swart's desk.
This position, of course, didn't allow for proper rest.
In fact, even a bed wouldn't have made a difference.
After suddenly finding himself in a new world, and thrust into trouble and danger, even someone as resilient as Goethe couldn't be completely at ease.
He only managed to sleep a bit when dawn was breaking.
Then, he was woken up by an excited Swart.
If Swart hadn't brought breakfast and Goethe didn't still need his help with things later, Goethe would have shown him what "morning grumpiness" really meant.
After double-checking his assets, Goethe put away his wallet and picked up his breakfast.
The ham in the ham and egg sandwich was solid, pure meat without a hint of filler, and the egg was crispy on the outside but soft on the inside, paired with refreshing lettuce. One bite was enough to make Goethe immediately take another.
Then he took a sip of apple juice.
The juice was freshly squeezed, sweet, and tart.
Three bites and a sandwich was gone.
After finishing the two sandwiches, Goethe drank the remaining apple juice in one gulp.
Then, Goethe took the clean clothes he had brought from home last night, changed into them from the inside out, grabbed his cane and hat, and headed out of the police station.
It was still an hour before eight o'clock, but Goethe, who had never been to the "Black Sail Security Company," set out early.
He raised his hand to hail a public carriage.
Public carriages didn't have set stops; they charged by distance—half a copper pence for the first 3 kilometers, 1 copper pence for more than 3 kilometers, and half a copper pence for every additional 3 kilometers. They only operated within the city, not going to the suburbs.
The Black Sail Security Company at 22 Sausage Street was about 5 kilometers from the police station.
In the early morning, Goethe was the only passenger in the public carriage.
The poor couldn't afford to take a carriage.
The rich had their private carriages.
Public carriages were mostly used by those who couldn't afford a private carriage but still wanted to distinguish themselves from the poor.
Most of these people had decent, respectable jobs, so they didn't need to get up early.
This allowed Goethe to enjoy the spaciousness of the carriage and clearly see the scenery outside the window.
At first, the streets were clean, lined with shops, fountains spraying rainbows in the sunlight, and pairs of patrolling officers making the streets orderly.
But soon, the ground became uneven.
The road, a mix of cobblestones and gravel, was lined with men in linen shirts, suspenders, and worn hats, all jostling their way to the factories. Among them were adult men and half-grown children.
Most of these men had dull eyes, their faces full of fatigue.
The children were even more emaciated.
Yet, despite this, none of them stopped.
They needed to work.
Only by working could they earn money.
Only by earning money could they survive.
It was the same for the women.
In the crowd, many women balanced large wooden basins on their heads as they walked toward the river on the outskirts.
The clothes in the basins didn't look dirty; many were even adorned with lace and meticulously made.
Each woman held the basin high, afraid of soiling the clothes with the mud beneath their feet, though their own shoes and skirts were already filthy.
The crowd along the road was interspersed with stalls.
There were vegetable and fruit stands, as well as cooked food stands.
Without their own shops, these people were mobile vendors.
They shouted their wares loudly.
"Chips! Fried Fish!"
"Muffins! Sausages!"
The smell of food mixed with the stench of the surrounding crowd, creating a scent known as "the scent of life."
Leaning back in the carriage, Goethe inhaled this scent, silently watching it all.
He was both an outsider and already a part of it.
Just like everyone around him, everyone was struggling to survive.
He was no exception.
Whether in his homeland or here...
It was the same.
Goethe looked away, leaned back in the carriage, and smiled wryly.
The wheels rolled on, and the carriage came to a stop at 22 Sausage Street.
Through the window, Goethe could see the sign for "Black Sail Security Company" hanging on a two-story building.
Goethe pulled out 1 copper pence to pay the fare, jumped down from the carriage, and carefully observed the surroundings.
The Black Sail Security Company was on the second floor.
The first floor had a sign for "Old Henry's Deli."
An elderly man was wiping the sign and windows. When he saw Goethe approach, the old man smiled and greeted him.
"Good day."
"Good day."
Polite but not overly warm small talk.
After nodding in greeting, Goethe headed up the side stairs.
Halfway up, Goethe noticed that the door to the Black Sail Security Company was open.
Standing in front of the open door, Goethe didn't enter immediately. Instead, he knocked gently twice and looked around inside.
The room was about ten square meters. At the entrance was a desk with a registration book on it. Further in was a square coffee table, with a long sofa on one side.
Besides this, there was the door further inside and another door opposite the sofa.
Both were closed, so Goethe couldn't see more.
Minimalistic to the extreme.
That was Goethe's first impression of the Black Sail Security Company.
As Goethe was looking around, the door opposite the sofa opened, and a young man, slightly older than Goethe, walked out.
Dressed in a white shirt, black vest, black pants, and polished shoes, the young man was holding a cup of coffee. The room behind him, which was slightly revealed, allowed Goethe to see that it was filled with kitchen utensils and ingredients.
"A kitchen-like tea room?"
Goethe thought, then smiled at the young man.
"Hello, I am—"
"Goethe."
"I know you."
"Mr. Morley has told me everything."
The person interrupted Goethe's self-introduction directly, coldly emphasizing that he knew everything. Moreover, this young man had no intention of introducing himself. He simply walked behind the registration desk, took out an envelope, and said:
"Everything you need to know is in here."
"Can you read?"
After handing the envelope to Goethe, he asked this.
When Goethe nodded, the other party continued:
"Good."
"Read it yourself."
After saying that, the man shut the door.
Goethe rubbed his nose, which was nearly hit by the door, with a playful look in his eyes.
No hostility.
But also unabashed disgust.
It seemed that his arrival was not welcome.
"An official extraordinary force... It seems to be more troublesome than I thought!"
Goethe thought to himself as he stood at the door and opened the envelope.
Then, he was stunned.
Because inside, there was no letter.
Instead, there was a flyer featuring a hot woman, with the words "Garden Club" wrapped in a circle of rose petals, standing out prominently.
In addition, there was a gold ticket with a value of 5.
When these two items were placed together, a bold guess instantly popped into Goethe's mind.
And that is...
(To be continued)