Late at night. 7 Pinster Street.
Leonard Mitchell sat on a chair with his legs raised onto the side of his desk.
Following that, he leaned back, causing the wooden headrest to creak from the pressure. His breathing gradually turned long and slow.
After an unknown period of time, his eyelids drooped and covered his eyes.
At this moment, Leonard's spirit had arrived in a gray, hazy world, but he was still in his bedroom.
He flew to the window and saw thick gray fog blanket the nearby streets and extend outwards. It seemed to be embracing all of Backlund.
The street lamps along the streets and the warm light from the different houses appeared abnormally dim. They were only able to illuminate a very tiny region, and everything seemed to be tainted with a sense of blurriness.
At the same time, blobs of illusory oval lights appeared as they enveloped a house in an intersecting manner, as though it was the source of their existence.
This was the city through a Nightmare's eyes.
Leonard followed up on his previous investigations and leaped out the window in a Nightmare state. He then flew to 17 Minsk Street.
He didn't attempt to storm in. He stood at the door in the thick fog as he politely pulled the doorbell.
Cuckoo! Cuckoo! Dressed in her nightgown, Stelyn Sammer opened the door.
She placed her silver-inlaid pleated fan at her chest as she asked in confusion and puzzlement, "Who are you looking for?"
She was none other than Klein's landlord back when he was acting as Sherlock Moriarty. She was a blonde-haired, blue-eyed lady in her thirties.
Leonard had already changed into a black-and-white checkered police uniform. He casually showed his identification and asked, "Do you know Sherlock Moriarty?"
Trapped in the dream, Stelyn's reaction was very slow. She asked after a few seconds, "Did something happen to him?"
Just as she asked, her impression of Sherlock Moriarty appeared beside her under Leonard's influence.
He wore a half top hat, a double-breasted frock coat, gold-rimmed spectacles on his nose, and a bushy mustache around his mouth...
This was identical to the information he previously received about Sherlock Moriarty. Hence, he didn't show any doubts and said, "He's been involved in a case and is undergoing an investigation.
"I hope you can cooperate with us."
"A-alright." Stelyn wished to raise her chin, but for some reason, she felt a little horrified.
Leonard thought for a second and asked, "Since when did he rent this place from you?"
"Early September last year," Stelyn said after recalling her memories.
Leonard continued asking, "What do you know of him? Or should I say, what kind of person do you think he is?"
When that was mentioned, Stelyn appeared as though she had long considered the answer to such a question.
"He comes from Midseashire, and he has an accent from that area. He's a very capable detective, and he once exposed the adultery which Mary's husband was undertaking. However, his income isn't too high. He doesn't even hire a full-time housemaid. All he can do is get my maid to help him part-time... My children tell me that he's good at telling stories, especially detective-related stories. This might be why he had chosen this profession..."
Without giving Leonard a chance to interrupt her, she droned on incessantly, "He's not as boorish like the typical detective. He went to grammar school and studied history. What leaves me most envious of all is how he obtained Mary's gratitude. He joined the Quelaag Club where its members are people with significant status. I've only been there a few times...
"Later, he apparently became famous in the detective circles, and private detectives often came to look for him..."
Leonard lost his patience listening to her drone on as he couldn't help but rub his temples.
He had failed to obtain any useful information from Mrs. Stelyn. Apart from Sherlock Moriarty's poor financial situation and him being good at telling detective stories, the rest was within the scope of what he had previously investigated. He even knew that Sherlock Moriarty had good ties with Isengard Stanton.
Next, I'll investigate those from the Quelaag Club who have good relationships with Sherlock Moriarty... Once he patiently finished listening to Mrs. Stelyn's droning, he immediately thanked her and left her dream.
...
160 Böklund Street. Inside Dwayne Dantès's mansion.
In the hall that could accommodate more than a hundred dancers, Klein was embracing a lady in her thirties as they danced.
This was the etiquette teacher that Walter had hired. Her name was Wahana Heisen.
She had a common name, but she wasn't ordinary at all. Her facial features were only above average, but her disposition was impeccable. Her every action was filled with charm.
According to Walter's introduction, she was born in a baron's family. She received a good education from a young age and later entered the palace. She had the job of court lady until she was married.
As her family had declined and her husband's financial situation was only ordinary, being a believer in the Evernight Goddess prompted her to choose to become a private tutor in etiquette. She often went to the families of nobles and tycoons to teach their children.
Although the butler didn't spell it out, Klein knew that he couldn't perform badly in front of this lady, or there was no way to save his reputation.
The way members of high society asked about a person's situation was mainly through common acquaintances. And at times, the interaction between servants also mattered.
With nimble footsteps and graceful moves, the black-haired Wahana nodded approvingly.
"Mr. Dantès, it's hard for me to imagine you not having learned these dance steps before.
"In less than half an hour, you're as skilled as a noble who received education on this from a young age."
"It's all thanks to your teachings." Klein gave a humble smile as he wore a warm, humble look.
With the Clown's balance, dancing was a very easy matter for him.
Wahana lowered her head and chuckled softly.
"You're a gentleman who can really make a lady happy."
She immediately raised her light brown eyes and swept her gaze across Dwayne Dantès's silver sideburns and deep blue eyes.
"That's the best praise I've heard today," Klein replied with a smile. During this period, his feet kept moving as he spun Wahana gently around. Not far away, the hired quartet's melodious music echoed through the hall.
He had the intention to have close ties with Wahana, not to improve his reputation, but because she was once a court lady.
After Wahana corrected a minor mistake that Dwayne Dantès committed, she said, "When inviting a lady to dance, it's not only a dance. You also need to converse. You can't be like two dolls unless both of you are so immersed in the dance and music's rhythm that you do not wish to speak. Of course, that's also a form of communication—a form of communication of the heart.
"When conversing, you must be euphemistic because this is Loen, not Intis.
"To put it simply, do not be direct and crude. You need to appear gentlemanly.
"Let me raise an example. If you wish to compliment a lady for her perfume, you can't directly tell her how nice it smells, nor ask what kind of perfume it is to praise her. You need to connect a more euphemistic meaning to it and mention that. Yes, you can say something like: It feels like I'm out in the spring meadows.
"Of course, this needs to match the traits of perfume."
There's no literary feel. Shouldn't you say that "the moon is beautiful, isn't is?" Klein lampooned with a Japanese-styled euphemism as he said with a self-deprecating smile, "Thank you for not telling me that my praises weren't gentlemanly enough."
Wahana's smile deepened.
"Mr. Dantès, do you know what kind of gentleman is very welcomed by women at social events?"
"Pray, do tell." Klein honestly shook his head.
Wahana said without a change in her smile, "The second most popular type are men who make women think that he's very intelligent."
"What about the first?" Klein asked cooperatively.
Wahana glanced at him and said, "The most popular type are men who make women think that they are very intelligent."
Upon saying that, she smiled and didn't say another word. Klein instantly understood she was hiding her praise in between the lines.
So this is Loen-styled euphemism... It's not like Intis where they just aim straight for the lower half of the body... Hmm, that's what's written in papers and magazines. I've no way of confirming what real Intis social events are like. Anyway, both countries often sully each other... The emperor's era does match that description though... Klein nodded in enlightenment.
The two-hour etiquette lesson ended in a harmonious mood. Klein walked Teacher Wahana Heisen to the door with Butler Walter and Valet Richardson before giving her a tiny gift.
It was Moonlight, a perfume from the Dream Company. It was mixed with gray amber, making it rather expensive.
As for how much it was, Klein wasn't sure, as Housekeeper Taneja was responsible for buying it. The payment was through her. Only when the 1,000 pounds was almost expended would she come to him with receipts and a list for him to vet so as to receive fresh funds.
The reason why Klein knew the company and perfume was that his butler had informed him ahead of time. It was to prevent him from appearing insincere if Ma'am Wahana were to ask.
From this detail, he had a deep understanding of the use of a good butler.
Watching the satisfied Ma'am Wahana Heisen leave, Klein held back the urge to rub his temples as he sighed inwardly, This is more tiring than a Beyonder battle. I have to constantly watch my actions and deliberate over my words... I need some rest.
At that point, the white-gloved Walter took a step forward and said, "Sir, since you wish for your etiquette studies to progress faster, we can move the remaining lessons forward."
"What lessons?" Klein felt a headache.
"History, international politics, philosophy, music, as well as general knowledge of sports like golf, racing, hunting..." Walter answered meticulously.
"Philosophy?" Klein asked in surprise.
Walter nodded.
"It's one of the most common topics discussed in high society. You don't need to have very deep research into it, but you need to know what others are discussing. You need to know that the origins of philosophy stem from Kongsoka, Mareddy, and Paterson, and not Emperor Roselle. You need to know that "Man was born free" came from Leumi.
"When tycoons first enter high society, many of them often make mistakes in such aspects. They're used to attributing certain sentences and philosophical thoughts to Emperor Roselle."
Klein felt his head ache the more he heard. He forcefully smiled and said, "I haven't got any matters to do recently, apart from my afternoon naps and heading to the cathedral. You can arrange the lessons to be at anytime."
...
In a dark room, a letter floated up and opened by itself before shaking the piece of paper.
In her tiny bonnet, Sharron's figure was outlined. She grasped the letter and seriously read through it.
She then wrote a reply and set up a ritual to summon Sherlock Moriarty's messenger.
During this process, she didn't forget to prepare a gold coin.
Soon, Sharron finished the incantation as she watched the candle flame burgeon and be tainted with a gloomy green color.
Reinette Tinekerr, with the four blonde, red-eyed heads in hand, appeared out of the candlelight and appeared before Sharron.
Sharron's eyes constricted as her doll-like face suddenly showed immense emotional fluctuations.
She blurted out, "Teacher!
"Haven't you already..."
