The detective agency's door was violently destroyed. For the sake of money, Wayne did not investigate. Children distinguish right from wrong, while adults lie down to collect money. He moved a cabinet to block the door, preparing to change the door lock the next morning. Then he moved a box, exerting a lot of effort to reach the second and a half floor.
It was called the second and a half floor, but it was actually the third floor with only half of it built, leaving an open-air balcony where flowers and grass could be planted, or clothes could be dried. Wayne was poor and not qualified to plant flowers and grass. He was only qualified to work hard, so the balcony remained empty.
Veronica was very satisfied with the layout of the third floor, holding a black cat and admiring the night view in front of the window. Wayne knocked on the door, furrowed his brow, and said, "The nights in Lundan are eerie. You'd better close the windows and don't pull back the curtains."
"Right, this city is indeed very dangerous, especially for the ignorant..."
Veronica did not turn around, closing her eyes to enjoy the night breeze, while the black cat in her arms stared with a pair of golden eyes towards the distant night sky. Wayne pursed his lips. He knew Veronica was not an ordinary person; she was full of secrets. He just didn't want to cause trouble. After all, ghosts and such, although they had been around for many years, were still too advanced for carbon-based life forms.
"May I ask, will William always live in the detective agency?"
"Yes, he is the clerk you hired for the detective agency, responsible for handling files."
"... This guy looks like a clerk?"
Wayne silently mocked in his heart and instinctively asked, "What about his salary? Is he paid to work?"
"Of course!"
Right! Wayne nodded seriously. It was indeed his fault to make such an insulting question to a rich woman. Wayne reminded Veronica to close the windows and go to sleep quickly, then turned to go upstairs to pack things. He had to hurry; who knows if William was already trying on his clothes.
"Just a moment, Wayne, no, boss."
Veronica turned around and said seriously, "As your assistant, I suggest that the detective agency close tomorrow for a thorough cleaning inside and out."
"Right, it's gotten a bit dirty."
Wayne agreed, as he had also planned a thorough cleaning before, but being busy due to being poor, he never found the time, only tidying up briefly. After Wayne left, the black cat in Veronica's arms leaped onto the windowsill and said in a hoarse voice, "There is a strong smell of death on him, and there are markings on the wall, indicating that he has had close contact with Death Walker recently and has been targeted."
The black cat spoke, but Veronica didn't seem to mind. She protected the black cat with her hands to prevent it from falling out of the window and said, "He is a detective. He meets many people every day, and it's too difficult to investigate. But Death Walker won't easily give up the target. We'll know in two days."
"If we can't wait, we'll have to check his office files. Maybe we can find some clues."
"That's the only way."
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Veronica frowned, not pleased. "The smell of death on him is too strong, very abnormal. If he wasn't indeed a living person, I would suspect he was already dead."
"Yes, but thanks to him, we can find Death Walker so quickly."
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Second floor. Wayne walked into his bedroom and saw the tall and burly William, who had arranged all the female celebrity posters, holding the future diary he found in the bedside table, laughing foolishly, his laughter as strong as a barbell ringing.
A two-meter-tall, hairy muscle man in a blue and white striped sailor suit, looking through the 'Youth Training Manual for Men and Women Fighting,' didn't even rebuke the heretics. Wayne couldn't help but find it unbelievable.
Where is your philosophy? Hurry up and criticize it!
The future diary was the original owner's work, equivalent to what Wayne had written with his own hands. He couldn't avoid taking responsibility for it, but he didn't step forward to snatch the diary back.
He was more afraid of tit-for-tat than social death. What if William held on and didn't let go?
"Wayne, you're here. Where did you get this diary? Did you write it?" William winked, suggesting, "You have a good eye, but Lily Hawes is a singer. She hasn't starred in many movies. I prefer the male lead in her movies, handsome, humorous, considerate, optimistic, and talkative. He's simply the ideal companion. What do you think?"
Wayne's face darkened. He felt like he was that ideal companion.
"Wayne, why are you standing there? Come over!" William patted the bed beside him.
"No need, I'll tidy up a bit and then go downstairs. Veronica said we have to get up early for a big clean tomorrow." Wayne silently took a step back, ensuring that he could close the door and escape in the first instance when William rushed over.
Upon hearing this, William didn't trouble Wayne further. Wayne moved a stack of beauty posters to the warehouse, tidied up the bedding, and settled on the office sofa.
One night of silence.
Wayne woke up hungry the next day. The physical activity from last night drained the last of his energy, granting him a quality sleep akin to that of a new father.
So much so that amidst the clatter in the kitchen, he could still sleep soundly until a tempting aroma wafted in, causing him to abruptly open his eyes.
It was barbecue, not those darned potatoes!
Wayne looked over in surprise. He had misunderstood the young lady; he had thought she was just someone who knew how to spend money, but he didn't expect her culinary skills to be so exquisite.
Leaving aside the taste and appearance, just the fragrance alone was spot-on, satisfying even the glutton in his belly.
Before long, William, clad in an apron, emerged from the kitchen. His robust chest and arms made the narrow apron look comical, and those with good eyesight could even spot the protruding chest hair at the collar of his sailor suit.
William invited Wayne to try his specialty dishes. "You slept like a log. It's already noon. I've prepared fish and chips, saucy beef, and mushroom stir-fry noodles. Can't wait, can you?"
Wayne, (?_?)
Retracting his earlier thoughts, he didn't misunderstand the young lady, but rather the muscle man.
Soon, Veronica returned from her outing. In a white shirt, knitted blazer, paired with jodhpurs and boots, she exuded a simple and capable aura, with a strong sense of professionalism.
Wayne nodded in approval. Beautiful people are not necessarily beautiful in heart, but at least she is beautiful in appearance. Veronica looked good in anything she wore; this outfit wouldn't be out of place even in the era he traveled from.
Veronica bought a lot of things, not just simple furniture and household items, but also potted plants, premium soil for planting, and a bunch of bottles filled with plant seeds, seemingly prepared to decorate the open-air balcony on the third floor.
After the meal, she put on an apron, hat, and arm sleeves to begin the thorough cleaning of the third floor, with the help of the black cat Monica, who was diligently wiping the windows with a cloth.
William was assigned a bunch of strenuous tasks, such as moving furniture and taking out the trash, which led to his continuous complaints. He applied for a clerical job and, at worst, a chef.
Veronica didn't assign Wayne any tasks. It was evident that she didn't particularly like Wayne, and unless necessary, she wouldn't even initiate a conversation with him.
This directly led to Wayne feeling out of place in this detective agency. While everyone else was busy, he seemed idle, as if he were the outsider.
The outsider is actually me!
Humans have a sense of shame, and at the very least, a desire to win or lose. Wayne picked up a mop and joined the big cleanup, working for an hour until the door of the detective agency was knocked on once again.
Mrs. Laina!