"Good morning, Mr. Holmes."
Somewhere within the blurred haze of a fading dream, Lloyd heard someone calling his name. The voice was strangely familiar. He chased after it through the kaleidoscope of shifting illusions, forcing his legs to carry him toward its unseen source.
His eyes slowly opened.
As daylight spilled across the room, a dull ache pulsed through his head. Instinctively, he reached for the pocket watch hanging beside the bed. One glance at the time told him everything.
He had overslept.
It was unusual. Lloyd was a man of ruthless discipline. Whether his days were spent brawling through back alleys or putting another criminal in the ground, he rose at the same hour every morning. Even after returning home in the dead of night, he rarely broke routine. Yet the exhaustion from the previous evening's endless thoughts clung stubbornly to him, leaving his mind clouded as he reluctantly dragged himself upright.
"Morning."
He answered absentmindedly.
Then, almost instantly, the fog vanished.
His eyes sharpened.
He had lived in Old Dunling for years, and no one had ever come to wake him. Even if Mrs. Vanlud needed something, she'd pound on his door until it nearly came off its hinges rather than step inside.
His hand instinctively slid toward the narrow gap beside the bed where a short dagger was hidden.
Then his sleepy gaze focused.
"Yavi? What are you doing here?"
Looking at the elderly butler standing before him, Lloyd couldn't hide his surprise. Yavi found him insufferable. Unless circumstances absolutely demanded it, the old man would never willingly appear before him.
Yavi's face remained as stern as ever.
"Obviously because there's business. I've been waiting on you long enough."
Lloyd glanced at the watch once more. Apparently Yavi had exhausted every ounce of patience before finally deciding to drag him out of bed himself.
"Get dressed. We don't have much time."
Clearly prepared, Yavi tossed an elegant set of clothes onto the bed. One look at the fabric was enough to tell Lloyd they were anything but cheap.
"What happened?"
Lloyd rubbed his temples. He had only just opened his eyes, and already another exhausting day had begun.
Perhaps... this was simply the fate of people born to work.
"Thanks to our recommendation, someone has taken a great interest in you," Yavi explained matter-of-factly while pulling the blanket completely off Lloyd. "He wants to hire you to investigate a case."
He continued before Lloyd could respond.
"We arranged to meet at noon, but you've slept far longer than expected. Whatever else you need to know, we'll discuss on the way."
Once Lloyd had managed to throw on most of his clothes, Yavi decided the remaining adjustments could be made inside the carriage. Without another word, he seized Lloyd by the arm and practically dragged him out of the room.
Still half asleep, Lloyd barely remembered leaving the house.
By the time his thoughts finally cleared, he was already seated opposite Yavi inside a rapidly moving carriage. Outside the window, No. 121A Cork Street disappeared into the distance.
"Put this on."
Yavi handed over Lloyd's coat, then produced a comb.
"At least make yourself presentable."
"Where exactly are you taking me?"
"You'll know when we arrive." Yavi folded his arms. "Besides, aren't you a detective? Try deducing it."
Lloyd fell silent.
He slipped on the coat, straightened the collar, combed his disheveled hair, then accepted the razor Yavi had thoughtfully prepared. Carefully scraping away the night's stubble, he at least managed to look less like a man dragged from bed moments ago.
"Another important figure?" he asked while tidying himself. "Some noble wants to hire me?"
Sleep still lingered in his voice.
"You know I couldn't care less about appearances, so all of this is for your client, isn't it? Besides, detectives like me aren't exactly famous. Without your introduction, I'd never have anything to do with high society."
Lloyd preferred solving problems with violence.
Compared to painstaking deduction, grabbing a suspect by the throat until they confessed was infinitely more efficient.
He belonged in filthy alleys, not polished drawing rooms.
"So... your family has a stake in this too?"
He looked suspiciously at Yavi.
The old butler was hardly the type to find work for him. More importantly, Yavi knew perfectly well the sort of things Lloyd truly dealt with. If someone had genuinely asked the Stuarts for a detective recommendation, Lloyd certainly wouldn't have been their first choice.
Given his methods, investigations had an unfortunate tendency to spiral toward the worst possible conclusion.
"Something like that."
Yavi offered no further explanation.
"This is an opportunity for House Stuart. Rather than continuing to compete against the other great families, this approach benefits us far more."
Though he spoke only a few simple sentences, the weight behind them was unmistakable.
One matter followed another with relentless speed, leaving no time for rest.
Lloyd didn't press the issue.
Sooner or later, he'd learn the truth anyway.
After a brief silence, Yavi spoke again.
"By the way... the delegation from Florence has arrived."
Lloyd froze.
"The Florentine delegation?"
Every trace of sleep vanished.
His gaze locked onto Yavi with startling intensity, the sudden shift catching even the old butler off guard. He had always known Lloyd came from Florence. Naturally, he'd assumed the detective might care about news from home.
He hadn't expected a reaction like this.
Did the man truly despise his homeland that much?
It certainly explained why, after living in Old Dunling for so many years, he'd never once considered returning.
"What happened?"
"Exactly what I said," Yavi replied. "The Florentine delegation arrived in Old Dunling last night. They were the first to reach the city. This morning, the delegation from the Viking Kingdoms arrived as well. Leipa's representatives and the others will follow."
"They came shortly after midnight, while you were asleep. They've already settled into their embassy. So far, they haven't made any public moves."
"I see... Anything unusual?"
Yavi shrugged.
"And even if there were, how would I know? If you're looking for secrets like that, I'd suggest asking that mysterious department."
He deliberately avoided speaking the name of the Purging Agency.
He wanted absolutely nothing to do with monsters.
Lloyd lowered his eyes.
As though fate itself had arranged it, while he had spent the previous night drowning in uneasy thoughts, the Florentine delegation had quietly crossed into Old Dunling.
As for approaching the Purging Agency...
Every instinct within him rejected the idea.
He feared becoming nothing more than another bargaining chip in whatever deal might someday be struck between the Purging Agency and the Church of the Holy Gospel.
He knew exactly what kind of man Arthur truly was.
Remove Eve from the equation, and Arthur became a flawless devil—cold, calculating, deciding the course of events without hesitation. He no longer represented himself, but an entire organization.
The moment Lloyd's interests no longer aligned with theirs...
The moment he ceased to be useful...
He would be discarded without the slightest hesitation.
Lloyd had no idea how powerful the rebuilt Demon Hunting Order had become.
But he knew one thing with absolute certainty.
If his worst fears ever became reality...
The entirety of Old Dunling would stand against him.
"The matter today... does it have something to do with the delegation?"
"Yes."
Yavi answered without hesitation.
A faint smile finally crossed Lloyd's face.
"Now you've got my attention."
Moments earlier, he had been considering inventing some excuse to refuse the job altogether.
Now...
Everything connected to that mysterious delegation had become infinitely more important.
The carriage eventually rolled to a stop.
The destination was one Lloyd knew well.
The Stuart Estate.
"So we're meeting here?"
Even as he spoke, Lloyd had already begun imagining who awaited him inside.
At the head of the long table sat Celius.
She occupied the master's seat, looking as though she had been waiting for quite some time.
"Good morning."
Lloyd smiled as he took his seat.
Since life had gradually returned to normal, he had rarely gone out of his way to visit her.
This was likely their first meeting since the Festival of Divine Birth.
"It's already noon."
Her voice was as calm and indifferent as ever.
Lloyd had long since grown accustomed to it.
Whether their guest would adapt so easily remained another matter entirely.
Anyone meeting Celius for the first time usually walked away with the strange feeling that they somehow owed her several million crowns.
"So," Lloyd asked, leaning back in his chair, "what exactly is all this mystery about?"
Yavi and the servants quietly withdrew.
Soon only Lloyd, Celius, and the guest who had yet to arrive remained.
Yavi had deliberately revealed very little during the journey.
After all, he was only a butler.
He disliked talking more than necessary.
"What else?" Celius answered expressionlessly.
"Profit."
"You worry about money?"
Lloyd glanced around the enormous mansion.
This estate was merely one among House Stuart's countless properties.
Someone like Celius—a duchess—hardly seemed the type who would ever concern herself with finances.
"I represent House Stuart," she replied evenly. "Not myself. An individual only needs enough to survive. A great house requires profit."
Now that she had officially become Duchess, she was no longer a ceremonial figurehead.
She had begun learning how to govern.
"How familiar are you with the Medici family?" she continued. "They have funded countless artists, whose works have become immensely valuable. Yet because no stable trade has ever existed between the Holy Gospel Papal State and Inlvig, much of that art now moves through gray markets."
For the first time that afternoon, her tone became almost cheerful.
She rubbed her thumb against her forefinger.
"All of that... is money."
"Money."
"You want a share of it?"
Celius nodded.
"House Stuart's influence extends only across Inlvig. Beyond our borders, however, our influence cannot compare to our guest's. We intend to cooperate with him—and with the visiting delegations—to establish new trade routes. Coincidentally, he also requires a detective."
She looked directly at Lloyd.
"So you'll be helping ensure everything proceeds smoothly."
"Am I getting paid?"
Lloyd asked lightly.
"Yes."
"And quite handsomely."
A rare trace of admiration appeared in Celius' eyes.
"Our guest possesses wealth beyond kingdoms."
That answer genuinely piqued Lloyd's curiosity.
"Who is he?"
He smiled.
"Or perhaps I should ask... who are they?"
"We're about to meet anyway. I might as well prepare myself."
"The North Dero Company."
"North Dero..."
The name sounded oddly familiar.
Yet no matter how hard he searched his memory, he couldn't quite place it.
"Its full name is the Northern Dero Colonial Trading Company," Celius explained. "Established under the authority of Queen Victoria, it controls trade stretching northward from Inlvig to the Dero Archipelago, conducting commerce throughout the colonies along that route. Over the years its influence has expanded well beyond those waters—even reaching Florence."
"Because its operations are so extensive—and because it frequently competes with the Vikings—it has been granted permission to maintain its own private escort fleet."
She smiled faintly.
"That will make our trade routes considerably safer."
"The company owns relatively few assets inside Inlvig itself. Most of its business lies overseas, so it's perfectly understandable that you haven't heard much about it."
"You intend to cooperate with them?"
"One of their shareholders."
Lloyd fell silent.
Only after Celius' explanation did fragmented memories finally return.
The North Dero Company had virtually monopolized overseas trade.
It had secured colonial rule.
Protected maritime routes.
And quietly become one of the greatest commercial powers in the world.
The conversation was interrupted by the sound of carriage wheels outside.
Footsteps approached.
Their mysterious guest had arrived.
The doors burst open.
And the man who stepped inside was the last person Lloyd had ever expected to see.
"Long time no see, Lloyd!"
Oscar Wilde strode through the doorway with his usual brilliant smile.
"Well, this is certainly an unexpected pleasure. I must admit, I never realized who you really were."
Like an old friend returning home, Oscar greeted everyone casually before taking a seat without the slightest trace of awkwardness.
Lloyd simply stared.
If nothing had gone terribly wrong...
Then Oscar was the representative of North Dero.
But...
Wasn't he supposed to be a novelist?
"Wait..."
"You work for North Dero?"
"One of my professions."
Oscar smiled warmly.
"You know as well as I do, Lloyd—writing books is a wonderful way to starve. A man needs a few side jobs if he hopes to keep chasing his dreams."
The silver pendant around his neck swayed gently as his attention shifted toward Celius.
She was the true reason he had come.
"And thank you for placing your trust in us. With House Stuart's support, our shipping routes will become virtually unstoppable."
Lloyd still struggled to process everything.
The other two, however, had already begun discussing trade routes, cargo, investments, tariffs, and countless other matters—all of which somehow excluded him entirely.
"Oscar."
Unable to endure it any longer, Lloyd interrupted.
"What exactly are you hiring me for?"
"Oh, right."
Oscar chuckled.
Since they were friends already, he took no offense.
After receiving a nod from Celius, he smoothly shifted the conversation.
"This partnership isn't something that can be settled with a few signatures."
"After speaking with Duchess Stuart, we've concluded that we'll also need to negotiate directly with the visiting delegations and determine whether they're interested."
"In other words... nothing is guaranteed."
His expression gradually darkened.
"You know what those priests are like."
"They're greedy beyond measure. They crave wealth with all their hearts, yet insist on disguising every negotiation behind the lofty language of faith."
"North Dero has dealt with them several times already."
"The results were... disappointing."
"This delegation gives us another opportunity."
"And if we want negotiations to succeed..."
Oscar smiled knowingly.
"We should probably offer them something they'll appreciate."
Lloyd studied his old friend.
Much like the name North Dero itself, the more familiar Oscar became...
The more mysterious he seemed.
"What exactly do you have in mind?"
Oscar straightened in his chair.
His expression became completely serious.
"Have you heard about the fugitives who deserted the Church of the Holy Gospel?"
Lloyd frowned.
He couldn't understand where this was leading.
"According to the intelligence we've received, one of the delegation's primary objectives is to persuade Inlvig—or perhaps North Dero itself—to assist them in hunting those exiles."
"Your company?"
Lloyd raised an eyebrow.
Oscar laughed.
"Don't underestimate us."
"We control most of the world's shipping routes."
"At sea, our advantage is absolute."
Then his smile turned strangely knowing.
Almost as though everything had already been arranged.
"Of course, if that were all, I wouldn't need your help."
"The real reason I've hired you is this."
"A few days ago, we captured a group of smugglers."
His eyes never left Lloyd's.
"They confessed to organizing an illegal passage."
"Among the passengers was someone extremely important."
"One of the Church's fugitives."
"Cardinal Shelmans."
Oscar paused.
"And according to everything we've learned..."
"He is currently somewhere inside Old Dunling."
"You want me to find him," Lloyd said calmly.
"And preferably deliver him to the delegation tied up like a gift?"
Oscar flashed an approving grin.
"Exactly."