Chapter 462: Descendant of the Four Heroes
The destination wasn't far. After about twenty minutes by carriage, Zhou Ning finally reached Golden Law Street. As the central district of Nathaniell, it was an area heavily populated by both players and NPCs.
At the very least, Zhou Ning could feel the wary gazes from the law enforcement teams, as well as the surprised and eager looks from nearby players.
But now wasn't the time to deal with players. Wearing a faint smile, he passed through the crowd and followed the newspaper's directions, locating No. 137 near the intended address, No. 129. He pressed the doorbell.
In the Apocalypse game's lore, the world's doorbells were specially designed. Their mechanism used an alchemy array to compress air, producing a series of chimes to alert the homeowner.
The inventor was an alchemist named Joseph Henry, so the device was called the Joseph Henry Door Chime. Like the inventor of the taxi meter, he made a fortune from this patent—and was killed because of it.
A dozen seconds later, the door creaked open. A young maid in uniform looked Zhou Ning up and down, a suspicious blush rising to her cheeks as she smiled.
"How may I assist you?"
Zhou Ning lifted the newspaper politely.
"I'm here about the rental. Is Viscount Hall in?"
The full name listed in the advertisement was Sean Hall.
"He is, but…" The maid hesitated briefly, though she didn't elaborate. "Please wait a moment."
She lifted her skirt and hurried inside. Zhou Ning heard muffled conversation from within. Before long, the maid returned and led him into the house. Zhou Ning removed his hat, held it politely at his side, and set his cane and suitcase aside.
He had heard that the Sepharic Kingdom promoted clean governance with high salaries. Nobles and senior officials often lived in extravagant comfort. One glance confirmed it. Even the living room alone displayed several costly antiques. The most eye-catching was an old painting—clearly of considerable age—depicting a stunning blond, blue-eyed woman with pointed ears. She was unmistakably an elf.
At that moment, Molly's cool voice sounded in his ear, tinged with complexity: "I know her. She was once my comrade. Her name was Louisa Hall. A talented female elf skilled in alchemy. In my era she served as the Saintess of the Alchemy and Craft Church."
Louisa Hall? Zhou Ning was momentarily stunned. He hadn't expected to hear that name here. Then he thought of Sean Hall. The situation was obvious—Sean Hall was Louisa Hall's descendant.
Immediately… he caught the nuance in Molly's wording—*was once*—and instinctively asked, "So she didn't stay in that position?"
"Correct. During the War of the Gods, the God of Craft, Edgeworth, stood against the major righteous deities. Louisa left the original church and converted to the Elven Goddess. As for the details, I can't recall clearly for the moment."
Zhou Ning reflected quietly. Even within the Apocalypse game lore, the truth of the War of the Gods remained extremely vague. What he did know was that the Sun Goddess Selvis, the Goddess of Nature and Life Agnese, and the War God Bloomfield were on the same side—and lovers of one another.
Judging by their stories and domains, the Goddess of Nature and Life was likely just an alias of the Elven Goddess. Why her authority ended up stolen by the Dark Spider Mother was still unknown.
The maid now led him into the sitting room, where a man was amusing himself with a hunting dog.
"Mr. Hall, the guest interested in renting the house is here."
The Viscount appeared to be around forty. Perhaps due to his elven lineage, he was exceptionally handsome. Though he carried a touch of arrogance, his tone remained courteous. He stood and gestured toward the sofa.
"Good afternoon. Please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink? The mint tea here is quite good."
"Mint tea sounds perfect. Thank you."
Zhou Ning sat down with a smile. He suddenly recalled how Mrs. Turing always served him mint tea when receiving him, and the smile on his face became more genuine.
"Paula, bring a cup of spearmint tea," the Viscount instructed. Then he looked at Zhou Ning. "You're interested in renting No. 129?"
"Yes. The size is just right. The price is a bit high, but it seems worth it," Zhou Ning replied with a mild smile.
The Viscount gave a measured smile. "Excellent taste. This area is practically half a noble district. If you can integrate into the community, the path to high society will open naturally."
"But to avoid future disputes, I'd recommend you rent another property. A previous tenant died in No. 129—and quite horribly. Since then, there are occasional disturbances at night. From No. 119 to No. 175, the entire row belongs to the Hall family. The prices are a little higher, of course."
*What the hell…*
Even though Zhou Ning was wealthy now, he couldn't help feeling shaken. More than fifty houses. Since when were nobles this rich?
But switching to another rental felt like an insult. He shook his head decisively.
"No need. I'll take that one. It has a private workshop, and I'm a fairly competent alchemist."
"Very well," the Viscount said, no longer trying to dissuade him. His lips lifted faintly. "Given the potential risk of an early withdrawal, I don't accept short-term rentals. The minimum term is one year—650 Vecktas. Since you appear to be a proper gentleman, I won't charge a deposit. Just pay the 650 Vecktas in full."
"What if I buy it?" Zhou Ning asked thoughtfully.
He needed an absolutely private base in Nathaniell and didn't want to be watched constantly.
"Purchase?" The Viscount blinked, considered for a moment, then said, "If you want to buy it—4,000 Vecktas. That's my lowest price."
*Only* 4,000?
Zhou Ning's first reaction was surprise—then he realized he was getting a bit carried away. Ignatius Woods had spent 8,000 Vecktas just to hire him for the first time…
"Deal," Zhou Ning said directly without bargaining.
"Straightforward. I like that. I look forward to our cooperation."
The Viscount looked mildly astonished and rose to shake his hand.
Shortly after, the maid brought two cups of mint tea and a contract.
Zhou Ning tasted the tea—it was pleasant enough, though it lacked the unique flavor of Mrs. Turing's.
The Viscount signed his name and casually asked:
"By the way, what's your name?"
"Wayne Sturwell," Zhou Ning replied honestly. He hadn't planned to hide his identity.
*Clatter.*
The Viscount knocked over his mint tea, hastily wiping the table as his voice stuttered. "W-Wayne Sturwell?"
He had just read that name earlier—a priority subject of interest to the upper leadership of the Sepharic Kingdom. A legendary gunslinger from the Bryston Kingdom. The record even stated he had once killed a god.
His tone immediately dropped in deference, his gaze turning respectful as he pushed the contract forward. "If you would, please sign here, sir."
Zhou Ning signed without hesitation: Wayne Sturwell.
Once both signatures were in place, Zhou Ning counted out 4,000 Vecktas in cash and handed it over.
The Viscount didn't even check it. He slipped the money into his coat and lowered his voice. "Mr. Wayne, I'll have Paula prepare the rooms so you can move in. What I said earlier is true—the noises often occur on full-moon nights. But someone of your strength shouldn't be bothered."
"If you have time tomorrow, I'll be hosting a banquet and can introduce you to the neighbors."
"Sounds good. Thank you," Zhou Ning said. His identity was sensitive—connecting with local forces would only help him establish himself here.
After a bit more small talk, Zhou Ning followed the maid Paula to No. 129 Golden Law Street.
A chilling aura swept over him the instant the door opened.
Aside from that inexplicable coldness, the place was better than he expected. Not only did it have an independent workshop, but the interior was excellent as well. The first floor held a living room, dining room, and kitchen on the left, and three guest rooms on the right, all elegantly furnished. The second floor had three bedrooms with private washrooms, a large study, and a private balcony. It was in no way inferior to his house at 117 Gibbon Street.
And in the living room, he once again saw a portrait of Louisa Hall—apparently standard decor in Hall family properties.