Although Lloyd was known as a lone-wolf detective, the truth was that his luck with women was far better than anyone imagined.
Back when he made his name as a "mistress terminator," he came to know many noble ladies—women of status, wealth, and carefully hidden scars. Through Lloyd as a common thread, those women wounded by men gradually formed a small circle of their own. They treated Lloyd with unmistakable goodwill, and in old Dunling, that made them one of the few genuine networks he possessed.
Of course, in six years of work, Lloyd had met far more than just those ladies. People from every trade and shadowed profession had crossed his path. But since his employer was usually Barlow, most of them met unpleasant ends. A rare few managed to flee overseas.
The girl standing before him now was different.
She was one of the very few truly special clients he had ever had.
"I did say—if you were coming, could you at least give me a heads-up?"
Lloyd reached out, yanked the shower curtain shut, and wrapped himself in a towel.
You might think she was Eve. No—no, no. To a demon hunter's senses, very few people could escape Lloyd's notice. If it had been Eve, he would have sensed something wrong long ago. But there were always exceptions. Like her. Her presence was so faint that unless she deliberately announced herself, even Lloyd found it hard to notice her at all.
"So," Lloyd said, stepping out wrapped in his towel, "what is it this time? Lost your cat? Or some bizarre commission? I should warn you—I charge a lot."
He emerged into the room. The girl stared straight at him, her clear sapphire eyes reflecting his embarrassment. The man who never flinched before monsters suddenly found himself oddly self-conscious.
"No," she said flatly. "Just passing by. I heard you were hired by the Sualan Hall. Congratulations—finally landed a respectable job?"
As she spoke, she popped open a bottle beside her. The crisp clink rang out.
"Minors aren't allowed to drink."
Expressionless, Lloyd took the bottle from her hand and set it on the windowsill—the very spot where he usually curled up with a drink himself.
"Here."
He grabbed a slip of paper from the counter, scribbled something on it, and handed it to her.
"My account number. If you really want to congratulate me, send money."
The girl looked at him. The icy stiffness of her face softened just a little. Yes—this was still that slightly unhinged Lloyd. Everything seemed normal enough.
"So direct?" she asked. "Are you hoping I'll keep you?"
"If you're talking about patronage, you'll have to get in line," Lloyd replied calmly. "You're… passable, I suppose, but I'm very popular with the 'Saturday Housewives.'"
The Saturday Housewives were the noblewomen bound together through Lloyd—women who gathered on Saturdays to drink, gossip, and curse their husbands' sins. And yet, despite all that, they adored Lloyd. They said that without him, they never would have met at all. Some even insisted on calling him the group's good-luck charm.
To be honest, Lloyd had been tempted when he first saw the offered price. But once he saw that damned outfit, he rejected it with solemn righteousness.
"Ah… wait. Selu," Lloyd said suddenly, frowning. "How did you even get in here?"
Given Lady Vanlud's temperament, she wouldn't let strangers in lightly. Lloyd's work was… sensitive. Though he always cleaned up well, there were always hounds with noses too sharp, sniffing for his address.
"Simple," Selu replied. "I became friends with Lady Vanlud."
She turned to face him fully. Those clear blue eyes made Lloyd uncomfortable.
"That short-tempered old woman?"
"Yes," Selu said. "You taught me this, Lloyd. Becoming friends solves most problems."
Lloyd studied her properly now. Like snow under cold moonlight. He realized he hadn't seen her in quite some time. Wrapping his towel tighter, he sat down by the window.
"Go on," he said. "Becoming friends with her is no easy task."
It felt like a test—like a teacher examining his student. Lloyd met her gaze, and the resemblance between them became strangely apparent.
"Elderly. Living alone. No family," Selu said calmly. "At that age, wouldn't a grandmother want a grandchild?"
She spread her arms slightly, displaying her slender, well-shaped figure.
Lloyd nodded. He had taught her this. Sometimes, the body was a weapon.
"And then?" he asked. "What did you do to charm her completely?"
His curiosity grew. What had Selu learned while she was gone?
"I made her happy. That's all," Selu said. "You taught me that too. Use what the other person desires. She wanted care, so I gave her care. Even if she sensed something was off—because it was what she wanted, she accepted it."
A faint glimmer flickered in Selu's eyes. Those clear blue pupils were like sapphires. Lloyd had once said her eyes were magical—that they could pierce straight through the human heart. And it was true. She was the sharpest child he had ever known. Before her gaze, everyone lost their mental defenses.
"Winning an old woman's trust like that," Lloyd said slowly, "is pretty vicious."
He admired her skill—but still questioned it.
"Isn't it a fair trade?" Selu replied. "The method may be deception, but the care she received was real."
Her voice remained cold. Lloyd was used to that. She was like an iceberg, through and through.
"I was actually just checking on you," she continued. "You becoming an external detective for the Sualan Hall… it's hard to imagine what might happen to you."
"How is me doing honest work that unbelievable?" Lloyd snapped.
But suddenly Selu fell silent. Those blue eyes locked onto his. For a split second, Lloyd felt dizzy within that radiant blue.
He shook it off quickly, irritation rising in his voice.
"Selu. We agreed. Not everyone wants to have their thoughts read."
"I was just curious," she said at once. "About what you've been through lately."
Her tone remained indifferent. It was rare to sense anything emotional from her—just like those uncanny eyes of hers. She was the most perceptive person Lloyd had ever met. Compared to her, he was hardly worthy of the title "great detective." One look was enough for her to see straight through you.
Lloyd was about to say something when tires screeched violently against the pavement.
He turned his head instinctively.
A pitch-black limousine had stopped outside 121A Cork Street.
"I'm guessing you weren't just passing by," Lloyd said weakly.
Truth be told, he could outplay many people—but among all of them, only she could truly match him.
For the first time, Selu's frost-cold face showed emotion. Something like an apologetic smile—perhaps she was trying to look cute. She even stuck out her tongue slightly.
To Lloyd, it looked like pure mockery.
The car doors opened. A group of men in black stormed through the entrance. Lloyd panicked for half a second, then slammed Selu's head down and shoved her into the wardrobe before diving back into the bathtub himself.
Almost the instant he lay down, the door was flung open.
The small room filled with people.
"Mr. Holmes?"
An elderly butler stepped in slowly, his gaze settling on Lloyd in the bathtub—his expression anything but friendly.
"Hm?" Lloyd turned his head, offering a polite yet deeply awkward smile. "What is it, Awi?"
Honestly, this might have been the most embarrassing day of Lloyd's life. Naked in a bathtub, surrounded by muscular men with guns hidden under their coats.
Suddenly, he understood how Marquis Barov must have felt when Lloyd pressed a gun to his head in a bathhouse.
…Was this karma?
The butler named Awi said nothing. He dragged a chair forward and sat down opposite Lloyd.
He stared at him in silence, like a lion studying its prey.
After a long while, Lloyd tried to break the damned quiet.
"…So," he ventured carefully, "did Miss Stuart from your household sneak out again?"