Outside the ancestral manor of the Landau family, lanterns blazed with brilliant illumination.
Brought together by the sheer power of money, Londan's premier photography crew was busily adjusting the lighting.
Beyond the wide-open double doors lay a magnificent, palatial great hall. Two red-velvet, high-backed walnut chairs were positioned before the entrance. Only four figures were framed in the lens: the master and mistress seated in the chairs, flanked by the young master and young lady standing to either side.
Veronica stood beside Xifei, while Wayne stood beside Auston. On one side were a smiling blonde, blue-eyed mother and daughter; on the other, a stern, unsmiling master and young master in black suits with pitch-black hair. Whether by immediate sensory impression or innate aura, the contrast in the composition was as stark as night and day.
To an uninformed observer, it looked like a blended family freshly brought together!
After several posed shots, the photographer gestured that they could take a brief rest.
Auston turned with a smile toward Xifei, who looked up at her daughter and student. Veronica wheeled her head around to glare daggers at Wayne—*Why are you in my family portrait?!*
Wayne stared dead ahead with an expressionless face. That was a question he would love an answer to as well.
*Click!*
The photographer snapped the shutter, capturing the moment in flawless detail.
He was an artist with high standards. The staged shots earlier had felt far too contrived, sustained entirely by the family's exceptional good looks and presence. While their postures appeared immaculate, they were superficial and generic—hardly different from any run-of-the-mill family portrait.
No genuine emotion, no soul; before long, such pictures would be tossed into the dustbin of memory.
A candid snapshot, however, was an entirely different matter. Everyone's true feelings were laid bare, devoid of posturing before the lens. That was art that touched life.
After that, the high-backed chairs were removed for a few more posed arrangements.
Having already secured his crowning masterpiece for the evening, the photographer treated the remaining sets as mere routine. The photographer lacked enthusiasm, and the four subjects grew rather stiff in the face as they held their poses.
*I hate getting my picture taken!* x4
When the family photo session finally concluded, the photography crew packed up and left, promising to print multiple copies and deliver them to the Landau family.
Xifei wanted several for her office; Wayne and Veronica would each keep one in their respective rooms. Though Auston was reluctant, he had no choice but to add a small new frame beneath their wedding portrait if he wished to keep his wife pleased.
He had already thought it through: he would set a vase right in front of the frame, perfectly concealing that detestable cement barrel.
Once the photographs were finished, Auston smiled toward Xifei, only to be given the cold shoulder precisely as expected.
He took no offense. Xifei was here in Londan and had promised to return home every evening. As long as he retraced the courtship of their youth, with Veronica providing cover from the sidelines, everything would naturally fall into place.
As the Landau family's newly adopted "young master," Wayne would be visiting frequently. He could hardly be relegated to a guest room indefinitely, so he was naturally assigned a room of his own.
Auston was thoroughly displeased by this third wheel planted right under his nose, which severely disrupted his romantic reunion with his wife. He began plotting to erect a secluded villa elsewhere on the estate grounds, where he could dump Wayne out of sight and out of mind.
Such was the logic of the wealthy: *I don't want to look at him, so go buy him a house at once.*
No sooner said than done. Under Housekeeper Megan's arrangements, a construction company owned by the Landau family arrived that very night to take measurements, draft blueprints, and prepare a budget.
Wayne's room was located in a side wing. Pushing the window open to gaze into the distance, he found the view expansive and clear, suddenly realizing that the Landau family's private domain was entirely free of fog.
Unfortunately, because Housekeeper Megan had followed the instructions of a certain patriarch who preferred to remain anonymous, Wayne had been situated on the opposite side of the grounds. Even with an exceptional line of sight, he could not catch so much as a glimpse of the young lady's detached villa.
"Total containment, strict defense. He can see right through my heart, liver, spleen, lungs, and kidneys!"
Wayne grumbled under his breath. To speak frankly, he was not terribly fond of this future father-in-law. From the moment he first laid eyes on the man, he knew he was bad news.
Not in the sense that capitalists deserved to hang from lampposts, but rather referring to the greasy, scheming heart concealed beneath Auston's refined exterior.
Just like the ancient silver coin that never left Auston's hands—the mark of a true schemer—Wayne felt the man had two faces, one for show and one behind closed doors. To have sweet-talked Wayne's teacher into marrying him and bearing a daughter, he must have relied on some thoroughly underhanded tricks.
The teacher's stormy departure in anger had to be, without a doubt, because she saw through the scumbag's true nature.
"Directing a drama against himself just to squeeze a favor out of me, driving me out of Londan, and expecting me to thank him for it..."
"No, he has too many tricks up his sleeve. There is no place for me in this house. From the servants to the housekeeper, they're all enemy pawns. Fighting an away game leaves me at too great a disadvantage; I'd better visit less often in the future."
As Wayne muttered to himself, he caught a flicker of light in the grass below. A dark shadow moved slowly, two pinpricks of light blinking in and out. Given his superhuman vision, it was astonishing that he could not immediately discern what it was, even without any fog obstructing his sight.
Piqued with curiosity, Wayne watched until the shadow crept beneath a garden streetlamp, finally revealing itself.
A black cat, staring out with two wide, round, yellow eyes.
"Monica?!"
Wayne paused, then vaulted out the window.
This Monica was not *that* Monica—it was not Senior Chris transformed by a curse, but a genuine, flesh-and-blood black cat.
According to Veronica, Monica was a pet cat kept by Mr. Landau. Because he only stroked her and never cleaned her litter box, Monica was not particularly affectionate toward her master, preferring instead to cuddle up with Housekeeper Megan.
Dropping softly to the grass, Wayne covered the distance behind the cat in a few swift strides. Catching the creature unawares, he scooped it up at fourteen times normal speed and gave it a thorough, vigorous petting.
"Monica, up high!"
The black cat's eyes went wide, filled with utter bewilderment. First stunned, then secretly enjoying it, then stunned all over again.
By the time it snapped back to its senses and prepared to unleash a flurry of furious claws, Wayne had already finished indulging himself and made his retreat.
Watching the stranger's departing back, Monica crouched low in the grass, pinning her ears back in airplane mode, and let out a faint "meow" only after a long pause.
At a window of the side wing nearby, Auston turned the ancient silver coin over in his fingers, watching the entire scene unfold. He scoffed under his breath. "Pulls up his trousers and walks away—satisfied himself without an ounce of responsibility."
Standing behind him, Housekeeper Megan maintained a dignified silence. Wayne's self-indulgent manner of handling the cat reminded her uncomfortably of someone else.
Silence was a rational avoidance, leaving room for dignity. Megan hoped her quiet restraint might inspire a moment of self-awareness in her employer.
Auston's opinion of Wayne was lukewarm at best. Even without reading the diary, relying solely on a series of outsourced background checks, he had concluded that this fellow was no good.
Most alarming of all was Fra's assessment of Wayne: overflowing with praise, holding the junior in exceptionally high regard.
Fra was a consummate butler—sharp-witted, meticulous, and an uncanny judge of character. If even he had been taken in, it was all too obvious that Veronica stood virtually no chance.
Auston thought back to his younger self, then mentally superimposed Veronica over Xifei. The more he stewed on it, the angrier he grew. Had things not already progressed so far, leaving him with limited options, he would have resorted to the simplest, crudest method to make Wayne disappear entirely.
Three months earlier, Xifei had brought up Wayne in front of Auston, mentioning the nylon patent and the concept of stockings.
The nylon patent was held by the Landau family consortium. Tough, wear-resistant, and possessing enormous practical value, it was primarily utilized for military supplies; licensing it to his wife for civilian apparel had seemed harmless enough.
Auston had not passed up an opportunity to curry favor with his wife, granting his consent in a heartbeat without blinking an eye.
Delighted, Xifei had rewarded her devoted husband with a warmer expression, and promptly began singing the praises of her student's talent and character, lauding him just as extensively as Fra had.
Auston had not shared her enthusiasm. The radiant joy that bloomed across Xifei's face whenever she spoke of her student looked identical to the way she had looked years ago when he tricked—no, when he courted—her.
Auston did not believe stockings would become a breakout market sensation, flying off the shelves as a coveted craze.
In this era, arms dealing was king, and the clearinghouse was the goose that laid golden eggs. He had urged Xifei to come to her senses, to stop being deceived by the lies spun by that cement barrel, and to return home early to live comfortably with the family bank.
Granted, any product tied to everyday livelihoods could generate immense profits on sheer volume alone.
As a capitalist with sharp foresight, Auston understood and fully believed in that principle.
Yet stockings, by their very nature, were hardly essential necessities. How could a trivial, optional garment become an explosive hit?
Moreover, the production cost was so low, while the proposed retail price was so steep.
To look no further than Londan's purchasing power, the price tag of a single pair of stockings would be enough to deter ordinary women, leaving them accessible only to middle-class consumers.
That cement barrel certainly possessed an audacious mouth. Did he truly believe that by merely designing an article of clothing, he could drive every woman into such a frenzy that they would smash their pots, sell their scrap metal, or even sell themselves just to buy a pair?
Childish, ignorant, and hopelessly presumptive—a clear sign that he knew nothing of the market!
Auston could already picture the stockpiles of unsold stockings gathering dust.
Which was just as well. Once that cement barrel's incompetence was exposed, his wife would regain her composure.
Even if stockings did manage to sell well, Auston would not alter his judgment of Wayne in the slightest. A person could not earn wealth beyond their cognitive horizon; if Wayne made a fortune selling women's garments, it merely proved that deep in his bones, he was an incorrigible lecher.
Auston had refrained from slapping millions down in front of Wayne to buy his voluntary disappearance.
That tactic was far too crude. Wayne was Xifei's student and one of Veronica's few friends. Even if the ploy succeeded, offending both his wife and daughter in a single stroke would only leave Auston paying the price.
Besides, all Wayne had to do was turn down a few million, and he stood to gain far more.
Such as Veronica herself.
Auston harbored little doubt regarding Wayne's potential success. Just as when he had pursued Xifei in the past, it was merely a matter of time.
Consequently, he had devised a two-pronged strategy to deal with Wayne.
On one flank was a honey trap. The celebrity Lily Hayworth was enchanting and seductive; one needed only to hear her voice to know she was a total stunner. If she pursued him proactively, no man could resist.
On the other flank was Red Leaf Forest Asylum.
Planck hailed from the Free Mages Alliance, which was backed by the Tulip Families. While Auston was not particularly close with Planck, he anticipated that if he personally reached out, the man would surely grant him a favor.
At the thought, Auston squeezed the ancient silver coin tightly, the corners of his mouth curving upward.
He could already envision Wayne's end!
Wayne would fall for the honey trap, leaving Veronica to view him merely as an ordinary friend and closing off any possibility of taking things further. Meanwhile, under an unrelenting barrage of psychiatric diagnoses from the asylum, the Church of Nature would draw a line between them, forcing Xifei to reluctantly cut ties with her student.
A calculated ambush against an unwitting mark, crushed beneath the weight of overwhelming leverage—Wayne would inevitably be forced out of this household.
"No matter how you look at it, the advantage is mine!"
Auston could not conceive of a single reason he might lose. Laughing heartily, he instructed Megan to bring the cat upstairs. He was in good spirits tonight and intended to enjoy a few minutes of petting.
***
Early the next morning, Xifei departed for church headquarters in a luxury black motorcar. Having resolved to return home every evening, she saw no reason to refuse the dedicated transport her husband arranged.
No more pretenses; the cards were on the table—her family truly was fabulously wealthy.
Unable to catch a ride in his teacher's vehicle, Wayne prepared to ask the housekeeper to arrange a car. The distance was immense, and he needed a ride at least as far as the estate's main gates.
Before he could speak, however, he was caught red-handed by the dragon-blooded girl.
"What now? I already apologized yesterday."
Seeing Veronica approach with aggressive purpose, Wayne felt a twinge of panic. If Auston spotted them, the man would surely begin hatching schemes against him in secret.
One plot wouldn't feel secure enough to the man; he would probably cook up three to five, or even a chain of schemes.
*Wait, he wouldn't actually deploy a honey trap, would he?!*
Wayne panicked even more. If Housekeeper Megan were the one dispatched, how could he possibly stay firm against such an encounter?
"Come on. Time to read the diary."
Veronica had a clear objective. Her addiction to following the updates was growing stronger by the day. Viewing Wayne's diary as a kind of social practicum course, she frequently contemplated locking him in a dark room to write non-stop.
"You can't be serious. Are you that bored? Don't you have classes?"
"Nope."
Veronica nodded. She was no longer a college student; she was now a fresh graduate stepping out into the world, waiting for employment.
Back in June, while Wayne had still been in Enrold Town praying for the Lord of the Void's long and healthy life, Veronica had smoothly graduated. She was currently idling about, with nothing whatsoever to do all day.
"What a pity."
Wayne felt a wave of genuine regret at having missed seeing the pretty girl in her graduation gown. He wondered if he might ever get to see a graduation gown cosplay in the future.
Evanston Women's College was divided into two campuses: the outer and inner yards.
The outer yard had little worth noting; aside from being packed with vibrant, youthful young women, it possessed no special distinction.
The crucial element lay in the inner yard. Funded by the Tri-Goddess Life Alliance, it featured a complete mage training curriculum specifically designed to channel fresh blood into the three churches.
Yet not all graduates entered active church service. The majority were placed on reserve status, generally pursuing their own private lives and careers.
As an outstanding graduate, Veronica would normally have been granted special recruitment into church headquarters—a guaranteed civil service iron rice bowl ensuring her future was set, provided she committed no major blunders.
With a broad stroke of her pen, however, Xifei had struck her daughter's name from the roster.
Due to the Dark Knight, the Church of Nature had suffered devastating casualties and was in dire need of a massive infusion of new personnel. Yet precisely because of the Dark Knight, joining the church at this juncture was exceedingly dangerous.
Xifei had no desire to live every day in constant dread, only to receive a phone call one day bearing the horrific news that her daughter had perished at the Dark Knight's hands.
Add to that the Death Knight, whose motives and whereabouts remained equally elusive, and Xifei had promptly relegated her daughter to the reserves to pursue further studies, standing by to await the church's call.
Across town, Head Coach Dick had made similar arrangements for Villy.
Unlike the Church of Nature, the growth of the Church of the Sun and the Church of Moonlight in Londan had always been lukewarm. In terms of hierarchy, their highest local authorities were mere priests, without a single High Priest among them.
Furthermore, the Dark Knight had focused his strikes almost exclusively on suppressing the Church of Nature, rarely lifting a hand against the Church of the Sun or the Church of Moonlight unless they actively provoked him.
Under such circumstances, Villy had walked straight out of graduation into unemployment, spending her days serving as a poster girl at the gym, so bored she had nothing to do but watch the birds.
This was also why Veronica had scrambled to set up a detective agency for Wayne in the first place: she wanted a job, something that would keep her from looking like an idle drifter.
Auston: *The bank is short a manager.*
Veronica: *Don't talk to me.*
Auston: *Here is ten million. Take it and lose it first; you'll learn how to do business through the losses.*
Veronica: *I said, don't talk to me.*
Raising a daughter was like that. Wear the little padded jacket too long and it begins leaking cold drafts, making the dead of winter terribly harsh. Yet you couldn't throw it away; you had to wear it every day and tell everyone it was your absolute favorite.
The two took a carriage to 13 Manor Long Street. Veronica learned for the first time that she had a home here as well.
The moment she stepped inside, she flipped open the diary and indulged herself in a thoroughly satisfying binge.
Before long, however, she reached the entries mirroring current events.
"Preposterous! Did you write this part specifically for me to see?! I only spoke a moment before you; you're the one who actually broke their word!" Veronica flared with rage, demanding that Wayne fill in the entries for the next several days as well.
Since it was all nonsense anyway, he might as well write all the way through to next year in one sitting.
Unable to match the girl's astonishing arm strength, Wayne resigned himself to the desk, penning future diary entries that stretched half a month ahead. After grabbing a casual bite in the basement at noon, he was hauled off to the West District commercial street by Veronica during afternoon tea.
"What are we doing here? Are you buying me something?"
Wayne beamed, his inner tentacle monster giving an enthusiastic thumbs-up. A magical girl whipping out her coin purse was an undeniably dashing sight.
"As if! Why would I spend money on you?"
Veronica wore an expression of undisguised distaste. Once the carriage pulled to a stop, she pointed out the window. "Your detective agency is right here. Remember the address so you don't walk into the wrong door next time."
Wayne poked his head out to look. Before him stood rows of four-story commercial buildings stretching from east to west down the length of the street.
Outside one storefront bearing a sign that read "Dawn Detective Agency," a dense crowd was packed tight. Right next door was a law firm doing roaring, explosive business.
"Splendid! I haven't even opened my doors yet, and business is already this booming."
Wayne was overjoyed. He turned to Veronica with a cheerful grin, adopting the air of an important boss. "Though the name 'Dawn' isn't quite right. I still prefer Wayne Detective Agency. Assistant Ver, go ahead and change it before the grand opening."
"What nonsense are you babbling? That one isn't your agency."
Veronica pointed across the street from the Dawn Detective Agency. "That one over there is yours! It hasn't even finished renovations yet!"
Wayne froze in utter bewilderment. Then what was the deal with this Dawn Detective Agency? Why was their business so insanely good?
Was this the affluent West District? Tsk, there certainly were a lot of wealthy couples having marital strife.
Fine, then—in the future, he would make a point of stealing all their clients!
"I'll let you in on a secret, but don't go spreading it around." Veronica glanced around cautiously. "Word has it that the Dawn Detective Agency is connected to the faith of the Goddess of Death. The law firm next door was opened by them, too."
Wayne: ( ; )
"Surprising, isn't it? When I first heard, I was shocked too!" Veronica nodded with a grave expression. Followers of the Goddess of Death offering their services for free had to be up to no good.
Most absurd of all, the various churches had actually turned a blind eye to these little antics by the death cultists.
Wayne said nothing at all. Trembling, he stared across from the Dawn Detective Agency at his own establishment.
The signboard was completely blank; it had not even opened for business!
Its future prospects were all too easy to imagine.
Just then, a synchronized chorus of shouts drifted in through the carriage window:
"I love Dawn! I love Dawn...!"
"I love Dawn!!!"
Wayne: ( 皿 )
*Damn it all, they're working for free, and they've even got a slogan! This is an outright cult!*
Chapter 85