Mrs. Laina was dressed in a black coat, a pair of expensive women's leather shoes, and a round-topped hat with a feather of unknown origin stuck in it.

In her forties, with a plump figure that exceeded the average size of most women, she appeared quite strong.

In terms of makeup, one could only say she tried her best; the harshness of time and its cruelty were evident.

Wayne considered himself not one to judge based on appearances, but if the aforementioned woman were to flirt with him, he bluntly admitted that besides judging by appearances, he had no other flaws.

"Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Laina."

"The pleasure is mine, Wayne."

Mrs. Laina took off her gloves, opened her arms as if to give Wayne a hug, and from the gleam in her eyes, it was clear that once she embraced, she wouldn't let go.

Wayne politely declined the warm embrace, conducted business by inviting Mrs. Laina to sit down, regretfully stating that the investigation had not been completed. He had spent a lot of time and effort but found no evidence of Dr. Laina's infidelity, suggesting that Mrs. Laina should seek a more skilled detective agency.

Mrs. Laina didn't seem bothered by this, nor did she accept the refund of the deposit from Wayne. She expressed her trust in Wayne's professional abilities and was willing to wait a few more days.

[This probably won't work. Time waits for no one. If Dr. Laina has evidence of your infidelity, you'll be the one at a disadvantage.]

Wayne advised a little more, engaged in small talk with Mrs. Laina for a while, and personally escorted her out of the detective agency.

"Wayne, was that lady just now a client?" Veronica came downstairs, her appearance impeccable, not noticing the dust on her nose and cheeks.

Wayne nodded, "Mrs. Laina is a client of the detective agency. She commissioned a family dispute investigation some time ago. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, she didn't receive the report today. I have limitations and advised her to seek another detective."

"It's just a family dispute; we can handle it perfectly well. There's no need to let business go unattended."

"That's easier said than done. The situation is quite complex, and it's not something that can be explained in a few words..." Wayne mumbled, trying to gloss over the topic.

"What did you find out?" Veronica narrowed her eyes; she couldn't afford to miss out on a lead that came to her doorstep.

"Well, let's continue cleaning up, and..."

Snap!

Wayne's hesitant words were seized by Veronica as a golden opportunity, promptly offering two bills with the Queen's portrait.

Wayne accepted in silence. It was a delightful misunderstanding, one that he didn't reject, hoping Veronica would continue next time.

"So, here's the thing. Dr. Laina commissioned... that afternoon Mrs. Laina... I tracked both of them separately. Since Dr. Laina arrived first, I gave both reports to him. To show his gratitude, he voluntarily paid..."

Wayne recounted the chain of events. "Professional ethics as a detective prohibit me from selling investigation results to both parties. I have principles and won't accept Mrs. Laina's commission again, hence advising her to seek another detective."

"..."

As per her education, Veronica knew that professional ethics weren't used in this manner. Rolling her eyes elegantly, this morning she had glanced through the diary on Wayne's desk. Since looking through someone else's diary without permission was akin to invading privacy and unethical, she had asked Wayne about it.

At that time, Wayne was asleep and didn't respond.

Silence implied consent!

In the diary, clients praised Wayne highly, lauding his professional conduct and moral standards, detailing mundane aspects that indicated Wayne was an upright and outstanding young man.

He adhered to the law, helped others, injected positive energy into the decaying society, and was a role model for contemporary youth.

After reading the diary, Veronica was greatly impressed, her opinion of Wayne significantly altered. Feeling ashamed for misjudging Wayne's character, she asked William to prepare something delicious, compensating for her invasion of privacy in reading the diary.

Now she understood why such a private item like a diary wasn't locked away but left on the easily accessible desk.

Feeling terrible, the college student felt like she had been played by societal rubbish!

"Continue. What did you find out about Mrs. Laina?" Veronica handed over a bill with the Queen's portrait. Mrs. Laina exuded an air of death, being closer to the Death Walker than Wayne had been, following this line of inquiry would quickly lead to the hidden target.

"According to the investigation, Mrs. Laina is well-known among dockworkers and struggling artists circles for her generosity and popularity..." Wayne conducted his business, revealing all the information, without any qualms about taking money for his work.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.

From a work perspective, a detective sharing investigation results with an assistant was logical and fitting.

From a business perspective, he didn't sell the information to Mrs. Laina, maintaining his professional integrity.

"Specifically, who are the painter and the dockworker?"

"Why are you asking these questions?"

Wayne frowned, "Assistant, don't make it difficult for the boss. I took money from Dr. Laina; our detective agency won't provide investigation services for Mrs. Laina."

"It's not about Mrs. Laina. I'm commissioning you for an investigation now." Veronica waved the banknotes in her hand.

"Please have a seat."

"..."

Can't you put up a struggle?

--------------

In the city of Lundan, according to its political and economic structure, it can be divided into five districts. The central district, known as Inner Lundan or Lundan City, is the political, economic, and cultural center of the entire Windsor Kingdom.

It houses the best university, the best hospital, the largest stock market, museums, theaters, and more. The newly wealthy capitalists, who were once noblemen, firmly control everything.

The western and northern districts are where the middle class congregates, while the eastern and southern districts, with the largest areas and the poorest resources, are hubs of ports, industry, and warehouses, primarily inhabited by the working class.

The port docks.

Sailors untie ropes, the melodious sound of steam whistles sets sail, where the blazing sun, the vast sea, and curses weave a chapter unique to this place.

The view of the docks is vastly different in the eyes of different people.

To the upper class, the docks are romantic. Amid the cries of seagulls, sailors sing uniform hymns of courage, sailing bravely to foreign lands, chasing the essence of life, exploring unknown routes, bringing wealth, and spreading civilization. Everything seems to come out of an oil painting.

To the lower class, the docks are dirty. Noisy seagulls, cold seawater, individuals struggling for survival, begrimed workers with sweat and grime all over their faces.

If this were considered art, it would surely be painted with the dirtiest feet, dipped in the foulest mud and grease.

As a long-standing capital powerhouse, the industrial facilities and infrastructure of the Windsor Kingdom have fallen far behind, inevitably leading to a decline in productivity. Coupled with factors like economic downturns and wars, the once prosperous docks have lost their former glory.

Approaching tea time, Veronica enjoys tea in a restaurant with her black cat Monica, while Wayne and William split up to find the dockworker Bruto.

Bruto is Mrs. Laina's lover, known for his robust physique and strength.

Wayne, as usual, searches for Bruto's whereabouts but comes up empty. According to Bruto's colleagues, he didn't show up for work today; he might be in the warehouse district or at home sleeping.

On the way, Wayne unfortunately runs into William, who immediately engages him in a conversation, expressing his frustrations.

"Wayne, I just met a young impoverished noble who is drowning in debts and had to come to the docks to find work..."

"I suggested to him, since he's in so much debt, he might as well use his assets to repay it. Sadly, he refused. What a shame, I wonder who will benefit in the future."

"Later, I looked for a few more, but none were as handsome as that young impoverished noble."

Wayne, "..."

What is this? The gay version of Aquaman, the sanctuary of ships, the legendary dock rogue?

Wait a minute, you haven't done any real work after all this time!

Wayne refuses to engage further with William, explains the situation to Veronica, and ponders whether to continue searching for Bruto at his house or to visit the failed art student's apartment.

"Let's go find the painter."

The failed art student, named Abel, is a young literary artist with steadfast artistic principles, who despite repeated failures, has been financially drained by wealthy women. Without his youth, there is no assistance; without assistance, there is no income. Unable to afford rent, Abel moved from the affluent North District to the East District.

Mrs. Laina isn't Abel's first benefactor, nor is she the most physically appealing, but Abel, used to dealing with wealthy women, finds Mrs. Laina's demeanor gentle and kind compared to the women from the North District.

"Abel plans to pursue art and earn a living in the East District until he regains his health, then he intends to return to the North District. He's someone who is unwilling to endure hardship but is capable of doing so..."

In the taxi, Wayne delicately recounts Abel's story to Veronica, who is seated in the back with the black cat and William.

While speaking, Wayne occasionally looks back, puzzled by Veronica's indifferent expression. Despite her lack of interest in the case, she insists on investigating further. What is her motive?

The taxi stops at the alleyway. Wayne, familiar with the area, leads the way to the third-floor apartment building. The wooden floor creaks as they walk, with plenty of garbage piled up on the sides of the corridor.

Rats dart past, vanishing into the crevices of the walls, indicating that Abel's life has plummeted to rock bottom, much like his physical state.

Wayne took the balcony route last time. This time, he takes the stairs. Just as he is about to knock on the door, William pushes him aside and pounds on the wooden door with his fist as big as a cooking pot.

The door was pushed open, and Abel, wearing only a shirt and wrapped in a blanket, looked puzzled at the remarkable Veronica before quickly closing the door out of fear of William's dancing chest muscles.

It was late.

William barged in directly, almost knocking Abel to the ground.

"Mr. Painter, our miss would like to discuss a long-term assistance business with you."

Is there such a good thing?

Abel was ecstatic; with Veronica's conditions, he would do it for free, let alone assistance.

Such a spirited young lady, just a slight collision could spark countless creative inspirations. Thinking of this, Abel felt his body filled with strength.

He did it again!

The scene shifts, and Abel is tied to a chair with a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth.

Wayne, (?_?)

Such skilled binding artistry. If he had refused last night, would this have been his fate as well?

"Don't be afraid. We are not good people. As long as you obediently answer our questions, not only will we not harm you, but we will also pay you a substantial reward."

William smirked, flexing his chest muscles. "Of course, you can refuse. The outcome will be tender daisies ruthlessly trampled, growing as big as sunflowers."

Abel shook his head desperately; he knew nothing.

Wayne rolled his eyes, professionally trying to reason with him. This kind of threat probably wouldn't scare Abel. He approached Veronica's side and whispered, "What's going on? You promised not to get me into trouble."

Veronica didn't respond. She took out a glass bottle from her handbag, and Wayne curiously glanced inside to see colorful mushrooms.

Judging by the colors, these mushrooms must be delicious but highly toxic.

As expected, the mushrooms were so tasty they induced hallucinations. William forcefully fed Abel a mouthful of mushrooms, and his pupils gradually lost focus, his face becoming blank, devoid of expression, giggling foolishly.

"Who left the mark on you?"

William tightly grasped Abel's right hand, a glint of light flashing, revealing a black inverted triangle symbol on the back of Abel's hand.

This symbol represented death, the mark of a follower of the goddess of death.

Wayne watched in astonishment as a wave of heat surged in his chest. The Book of Greed, which he could only see but not obtain a response from, in the moment of the shining light, expressed desire.

[Want it!]