"First, you can send someone to contact The Guardian and show them these documents."
"I trust that with The Guardian's professionalism, they will certainly realize what has happened."
"The next step is to finalize the cooperation and divide the interests—this will require your personal attention," the young girl spoke slowly.
"After that, contact Lloyds Bank, express your concerns regarding the case, and request to confirm whether the items in the safe are still secure.
"If nothing unexpected happens, Lloyds Bank will certainly refuse. Their excuse might be that the underground storage room is undergoing maintenance or something similar.
"At that moment, you only need to express your understanding. Lloyds Bank will surely guarantee that these documents are foolproof.
"Therefore, you need to have a reporter from The Guardian accompany you to act as a notary and witness Lloyds Bank's breach of trust."
"And then?" Duke Morstan asked.
"Then, we need to let the bullets fly for a while."
Mary smiled.
"Give The Guardian some time to draft their article, and give Lloyds Bank some time to perfect their disguise.
"All we have to do is wait, and occasionally urge them or even raise doubts."
"Apply pressure to Lloyds Bank?" Duke Morstan roughly understood her meaning.
"Exactly." Mary nodded slightly. "People in extremely high-pressure environments will always do unpredictable things."
"For example?"
"For example, if Lloyds Bank is pushed too hard, might they choose to forge documents in order to complete their task?"
The girl smiled, speaking words that shocked even Duke Morstan.
She did not continue. Saying this much was enough.
Duke Morstan was no fool; he naturally understood Mary's meaning.
Concealment was a minor issue, but forgery was a major crime.
To put it plainly, it was about applying appropriate pressure to the bank to gamble for the maximum outcome while securing the minimum baseline.
"I understand." Duke Morstan nodded with satisfaction, his gaze falling upon Mary. "Listening to you, this entire process will indeed take quite a bit of time."
Since he had obtained what he wanted, it was his turn to show his sincerity.
"Let me think... this whole process will probably take about a week."
He spoke seemingly casually, then picked up the schedule on the desk.
"But there is a party next week... what do you think, Mary?"
"After gaining the support of The Guardian, the Morstan family will effectively have significant sway in the media. Compared to profit, nobles care more about family prestige, while MPs care about their reputation and votes."
Mary gave an indirect answer.
"You have a point." Duke Morstan remained noncommittal, then tore off a page of the schedule.
"In that case, let's put this party on hold for now."
He placed the torn page on the table and pushed it forward, stopping in front of Mary.
"I need to start arranging other matters, so could I ask you to write the apology letter to Admiral Simpson for me, Mary?"
"Of course." Mary smiled and took the schedule. "It is my honor."
"It won't affect your studies, will it?"
"Everything prioritizes family interests—isn't that what you taught me, Father?"
The father and daughter exchanged a glance, then smiled in tacit understanding.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, go rest." Duke Morstan waved his hand, issuing the dismissal order. "It's getting cold, remember to keep warm."
"You too, Father."
Mary nodded slightly, then turned and left the study.
On the way back to her room, she stopped a passing servant.
"Prepare a pot of black tea and some snacks for me."
"Yes, Miss. Should I send it to your room?"
"No, I'll take it myself."
Mary returned to her room carrying the tray.
The room was empty, save for an open window through which cold wind poured in continuously.
"Mr. Moriarty?"
The girl's voice was calm and unwavering, more like a confirmational call.
"Are you still there?"
Hearing this, Russell, who was sitting on the roof admiring the night view, glanced down. He then jumped from the eaves, landing on the windowsill like an agile cat.
He shook off the rainwater staining his trench coat and looked up at the girl holding the tray.
"So polite? I actually kind of miss the way you pulled out your cane before."
His tone remained frivolous as he teased.
Mary took a step back, clearing the window, her face devoid of any superfluous expression.
She just watched him quietly. In the dim indoor light, those azure eyes looked like two patches of deep sea soaked in night, bottomless.
"Come in. Close the window. It's cold."
Russell raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by this sudden invitation, but he followed the advice readily, flipping inside. His toes touched the carpet lightly, making not a sound.
The room was very warm. The flames in the fireplace danced tirelessly, dyeing the walls a warm orange.
Mary did not look at him; she simply placed the tray on the coffee table on her own accord, then skillfully poured warm black tea into two white porcelain cups, her movements elegant and composed.
Russell stood where he was, looking around the room with interest, and also scrutinizing the girl before him.
"Sit." Mary pushed one of the cups of black tea toward the opposite side, her tone carrying customary politeness. "Don't be polite; consider it thanks for the gift you delivered."
Russell shrugged and sat down generously on the sofa opposite.
He did not touch the black tea; he only watched the girl before him through the curling white mist.
"So," he was the first to break the silence, "how did the talk with your father go?"
"Thanks to you, very smoothly." Mary picked up her cup of black tea and took a small sip. "I took back what belongs to me."
"That is truly wonderful," Russell said in a tone completely lacking sincerity. "It seems I've done a good deed."
"Although I really don't want to admit it... this is indeed one of the few good deeds you have done."
"What about that time I acted bravely for a just cause at Lloyds Bank?"
"Talking too much about certain topics can become annoying," Mary said, then picked up her black tea and took a sip.
"Even though I'm your benefactor?" Russell picked up a cookie with interest.
"The boundary between benefactor and enemy is not insurmountable."
Mary stared at his movements, seemingly anticipating the moment he would take off his mask to eat.
However, Russell did not do as she expected. After looking at it for a while, he put the cookie back.
"If you aren't going to eat it, I hope you won't play with the food," the girl said with some dissatisfaction.
"Don't worry, my hands are quite clean." Russell shrugged. "Besides, a little dirt never hurt anyone."
Mary glanced at him coldly.
This attitude inexplicably reminded him of Russell.
"By the way, I have a question," Mary spoke again. "I wonder if Mr. Moriarty can answer me?"
"Mmh-hmm?" Russell looked at Mary, his tone curious. "What question?"
"When you were in the underground storage room,"
Mary stared tightly at the mask on Russell's face, as if trying to pierce through that disguise and look directly at the truth.
"How did you manage to defeat five bandits all by yourself?"
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