Sidney's ancestral residence was located at No. 11 Knight Road in Londan's West District.
Like all followers of Nature who cherished closeness to the wild, the three-story manor was situated on expansive grounds sheltered by verdant woods. Its exterior was predominantly stone masonry—seemingly unpretentious, yet luxuriously furnished within, thoroughly exuding the classical aristocratic flair of Londan's old Union Jack heritage.
The black motorcar passed through the estate gates, drove down the tree-lined driveway, and pulled up before the front entrance.
Stepping out of the car, Wayne took a stroll around the three-story manor.
According to Xifei, Sidney had unfortunately been institutionalized for talk therapy due to mental problems. During the handover of his church duties, it was unexpectedly discovered that this supposedly thrifty and austere priest had issues regarding tax evasion and enormous sums of unexplainable wealth.
The Church had demonstrated the courage of self-reflection by proactively reporting the matter to the tax authorities. After a flurry of procedures and with conclusive evidence established, Sidney's ancestral manor was seized and handed over to legal administration for auction.
A "public" auction conducted strictly behind closed doors.
A low-profile second-generation heir named "Wayne" won the deed, completing every procedure at the speed of light. With property deeds and paperwork all fully verifiable, his private property was now sacred and inviolable.
Wayne: When did I ever attend an auction, and when did I sign anything?
Xifei: Here is the deed.
Wayne: Exactly right, it was me!
A person couldn't be too calculative in life, and above all, one shouldn't probe to the bottom of things. When it was time to play dumb, one must play dumb.
Wayne maintained that he wasn't playing dumb—he truly was dumb. If there was ever a next time, they should definitely consider him first.
No hidden motives; he just loved drawing the short end of the stick.
"Master Wayne."
Hearing the familiar voice behind him, Wayne turned around. When his eyes landed on Fra, the monocle-wearing butler, he was overjoyed and strode forward to give him a hug.
"Fra, it really is you."
"Yes. Fra Elihor is at your service from this day forth." Fra bowed slightly, then straightened up and smoothed the slightly rumpled hem of Wayne's jacket.
Wayne spread his arms, happily letting him fuss over his clothes, grinning so widely he couldn't close his mouth.
As the saying went, a single day apart felt like three long autumns. He and the butler had been separated for twenty-eight days, sixteen hours, and thirty-four minutes—rounded up, that was practically a century. He had missed the butler to death.
"As expected, Fra really is the best. With you around, my heart is at ease."
Wayne sighed with continuous praise, once again feeling indignant on Fra's behalf.
Megan and the like were quite nice, but the impression she left had nothing to do with a butler. Beautiful face, great figure, excellent elegance—she looked far more like an executive's personal secretary than a butler.
Summoned when there was work, and screaming when there wasn't.
Getting sidetracked—Wayne's point was simply that Megan was too pretty. Whenever she stood beside Auston, he couldn't help viewing the pair through a suspicious lens.
Teacher Xifei was not only the High Priest of the Church of Nature, but she also possessed a vibrant shock of short green hair.
Fra was different. Every word, every deed, every movement, every single inch of him was the golden standard of a butler.
Wayne liked him best.
Wayne made no effort to conceal his fondness for Fra, radiating heartfelt warmth and enthusiasm. Fra took it all in, and even his seasoned, worldly heart couldn't help trembling a few times.
Back in Enrold Town, Wayne had stood up for Fra, declaring that he was far superior to Megan and the finest butler in the Landau family. He had promised to mention the matter before Auston once he returned to Londan and strive to have Fra transferred back.
Fra had felt some anticipation, but fearful that greater hopes would only bring greater disappointment, he hadn't allowed himself to hope too much.
He never imagined that in less than a month, he would receive a call transferring him back to Londan.
On the telephone, Xifei had informed Fra that upon returning to Londan, he would no longer serve Auston. His new master was Wayne, who had just acquired a new residence and specifically demanded Fra by name when choosing his butler.
Fra felt immensely honored to receive Wayne's recognition. A gentleman would gladly die for one who truly appreciated him; he was willing to devote the rest of his life to his new master.
However...
He had also received a call from Auston.
Fra was somewhat at a loss right now. Wayne was an excellent master, but Auston was no less so. Caught between his old master and his new one, he did not know how to choose.
"Fra, when did you arrive?" Wayne stepped into the manor and saw the four familiar, muscular maidens, giving each of them a long-awaited reunion hug.
Time seemed to flow back to a month ago. He loved this new home.
"I arrived in Londan early this morning, and I am currently taking inventory of your assets."
Fra picked up a registry form nearby, which meticulously documented the property of the Wayne estate. Every detail, large and small, was neatly categorized and arranged with utmost clarity.
Now this was what you called professional!
Wayne gave a thumbs-up in approval and said sincerely, "Don't wear yourself out. We have plenty of days ahead and all the time in the world to take inventory. First, get the hot pot going. You have no idea—in the twenty-eight days, sixteen hours, and thirty-six minutes since I left you, I was eating whatever the dog ate. I lived such a miserable life."
Fra smiled without speaking. Such words couldn't be thrown around lightly; as far as he knew, Wayne had attended a family banquet in the capacity of the young master.
Wayne had just arrived at the new residence and didn't know the first thing about the layout. Fra, having spent the entire morning preparing, gave Wayne a comprehensive tour from top to bottom, recounting every detail like familiar treasures with nothing escaping his knowledge.
"Too professional! I can't even imagine how I'd survive without you from now on."
An hour later, the maids had prepared the hot pot and steamed rice. Wayne warmly extended an invitation, asking them to sit down and dine together.
Fra declined the invitation to lunch on behalf of the four maids, but under Wayne's threat of a hunger strike, the butler and maids ultimately joined their new master for the meal.
After lunch, Fra resumed the inventory. Decades of steadfast professionalism drove him to hold himself to the highest standards.
His workload was immense. Not only did he have to cross-check each entry against the legal audit, but he also had to re-evaluate the worth of every single item.
From the manor's overall acreage and the proportion between residence and gardens down to furniture, ornaments, and works of art—even the exact number of steps on the staircase—he insisted on verifying everything in person to ensure his master's interests remained uninfringed.
At the same time, whenever his master asked a question, he needed to be ready with an immediate answer.
Wayne had no such troubles. Entering the study, he produced a key given to him by Xifei, unlocked a desk drawer, and spread out several blueprints one by one.
Wayne's new home was a magical fortress—the painstaking magical creation of a Golden mage, with an intrinsic value far exceeding its auction price.
If Xifei hadn't pulled strings using her authority as High Priest, backed by the prestige of the Landau family to list and auction it at lightning speed, then relying on Wayne alone...
Well, the overdue rent for his detective agency had been paid by Veronica.
The manor possessed several layers of magical defenses. From the outermost woods to the core triple defense, layer upon layer stood tight and impenetrable, described by Xifei as impregnable.
The phrase "impregnable" had already been thoroughly ruined as a meme; trace it back, and it was all a certain someone's fault.
There were too many running jokes on the topic, so Wayne refrained from mocking him further. He committed the diagrams to memory, intending to pick a quiet night to test them one by one.
The outermost Nature guardian barrier went without saying—a handy tool for clearing cannon fodder; it couldn't stop the strong, while the weak were turned into fertilizer.
The core triple defense consisted of a hexagram, a cross-star, and a tri-star, corresponding respectively to the magic ranks of Black-Forged, Silver, and Golden. Had Sidney not stalled at Golden mage, he likely would have added a legendary mage's life force field.
Wayne picked up the telephone on the desk and called Veronica, telling her to note down the number so they could keep in touch often, business or not. He also asked her to pass word to Villy and Chris that this line reached him directly.
With the manor's master changing from Sidney to Wayne, the previous telephone number had also been replaced to prevent harassment from Sidney's former subordinates.
Before long, Wayne received a call from Villy. Full of vitality, the follower of the Goddess of the Sun joyfully announced that she was coming over to spend the night at Wayne's place.
And she wanted a feast!
Seeing her brimming with excitement, Wayne felt a stir of excitement himself—of a slightly different nature.
Pity it wasn't the kind he could indulge.
Afterward, Wayne received successive calls from Veronica and Chris. Tonight, the trio of magical girls would visit as a group, bringing gifts to congratulate him.
Presents were entirely unnecessary; they were all friends, and too much courtesy only felt distant. If they really had their hearts set on it, they could just get a larger gift box and climb inside themselves.
Hanging up, Wayne summoned Butler Fra. The detective agency's gathering had been moved to the new home, and three female guests would arrive tonight, so remember to set extra places at the table.
Also, call for a freight truck; while it was still early, he would move his things from the detective agency over today.
There were plenty of things in the detective agency. Leaving aside the sprouting potatoes, many items had to be brought over.
Perhaps ninety-nine percent would never be used, and with Fra around, everything would be replaced with new items anyway, but Wayne couldn't bear to throw them out. Storing them in a warehouse would do; what if they came in handy someday?
The butler operated with swift efficiency, assigning two maids to accompany Wayne to the detective agency for the move. The freight truck had already departed and would arrive ahead of them.
...
Wayne Detective Agency.
Wayne pushed open the door and stepped inside. Pointing to the bookshelves in the office, he instructed the two maids to pack them into boxes, to be sent tomorrow to the new detective agency on the commercial street.
Previously, Wayne had eaten and slept at the detective agency out of necessity due to limited circumstances. Going forward, work and living would be kept separate, and the items from the detective agency would be divided between the new home and the commercial street.
Façade items like books, along with the old detective agency's archives and files, would go to the commercial street, while personal belongings would be packed and transported to the new home.
For instance, the diary—he had already placed it in his bedroom.
No special reason; it was personal privacy after all, and leaving it in the study wasn't safe.
Then there was the bed on the third floor where Veronica had slept for a night. It couldn't be disposed of casually; throwing it away wasn't right, yet keeping it served little purpose, so it was boxed up for the new home as well.
The bed Villy had slept in was another matter. Back then she had still been a hulking musclehead, and Wayne felt the quilt smelled foul, so he had the maids haul it to the backyard, stuff it into a cement barrel, and burn it directly.
In the archive room, there were also the original body's "casting materials" and portrait posters of the female star Lily Hayworth. Wayne hesitated for 0.25 seconds, then decisively packed them off to the new home.
They seemed useless, but there was no guarantee they wouldn't come in handy down the line. Keep them in storage.
When dealing with the second-floor bedroom, Wayne selected a few reasonably decent pieces of clothing, and had the maids take the rest along with the bedsheets and duvet covers to the backyard for incineration.
Lifting the bed boards, Wayne discovered a black briefcase inside a hidden compartment.
With the maids burning things in the backyard and Abin sleeping underground, Wayne opened the briefcase on the second floor.
A radio transmitter!
A binary communication tool that, when connected to power and operated with manual buttons, produced the rhythmic clicking and beeping of Morse code.
Wayne had only ever seen this sort of thing in movies. Its operators usually fit one of two tropes: either a dashing, heroic operator for the forces of justice, or a rat-faced creep or a femme fatale with crimson lips and wavy hair acting as an enemy spy.
"I'm this handsome, so I must belong to the forces of justice..."
A drop of cold sweat slipped down Wayne's forehead. Trembling, he shut the briefcase. Three seconds later, he changed his posture and reopened it.
The radio transmitter was still a radio transmitter; opening it from a different angle didn't turn it into anything else.
Bang!
Wayne slammed the briefcase shut, in pure denial: "Impossible. Absolutely impossible."
He paced back and forth in the empty bedroom, muttering to himself, "I used to be an idle third-rate detective. As a detective, having one's own radio is completely normal! Hiding it under the bed was just to avoid misunderstandings..."
"Makes sense! That's exactly it!"
"It has to be!"
Wayne found an excuse to comfort himself and immediately brightened up: "An incompetent third-rate spy—bah, third-rate detective—who only knew how to buy merchandise and write smut novels, where would he get such messy background lore? No doubt about it, I'm just overthinking."
"Master Wayne, where should this case be sent?" a maid asked from the doorway.
"Send it to the new home..."
Wayne's heart skipped a beat, a wave of panic rising over his secret being noticed. He waved his hand dismissively. "Never mind. I'll take care of this case myself. I'll handle the cleaning on the second and third floors personally. You go down to the first-floor office and see if anything was missed."
The maid left as ordered. Wayne was already sweating from his brow. This sudden revelation had caught him completely off guard. Even though it had nothing to do with him, he couldn't help feeling a pang of guilt.
"I'm probably just overthinking. Spies need to maintain frequent contact. I haven't touched this transmitter for so long, and no handler has contacted me..."
Wayne stopped mid-sentence and fell silent.
Just an innocent bystander—and tracking him down over the past few months hadn't exactly been easy for anyone.
"Whatever. I've already stepped into the magical world and am no longer an ordinary mortal. Mortal grudges and affairs have nothing to do with me." Wayne furrowed his brow. He was himself, and the original host was the original host; this move was the perfect chance to bid a final farewell to the past.
Besides, he was a mage now. Could they really chase him down to his doorstep?
I'll give you a cement barrel!
Wayne checked the second-floor bedroom and archive room inside and out. Once satisfied there were no other suspicious items, he went to the backyard, buried the briefcase underground, and instructed Abin to keep it well hidden.
He had no desire for his past identity. Right now, his heart was set entirely on making money and mastering magic.
***
The Wayne Estate.
Wayne sat gloomily on the living room sofa. The sudden twist in his background lore had arrived far too abruptly. Against the looming backdrop of impending war, he dreaded that someone might show up at his door one day to present him with a pair of silver bracelets.
"Looking on the bright side, anyone in the know understands that Windsor's intelligence agencies are a walking punchline. As long as I keep my mouth shut, no one will ever know..."
"Master Wayne, is something weighing on your mind?" The former Windsor intelligence operative, Butler Fra, carrying a pot of black tea, had materialized beside Wayne without his noticing.
"A little, yes."
Seeing Fra, Wayne felt an unexplainable surge of reassurance. Seeking advice, he asked, "Butler, have you ever found yourself in an awkward predicament..."
"I'm not quite sure how to describe it. The kind where your identity is so complicated that you could brush it off, yet you can't quite ignore it; where you walk on eggshells, afraid to voice your true thoughts; where you don't want it, yet have no idea who to turn to in order to decline."
Fra's heart gave a violent jolt. The hand pouring the black tea trembled slightly. After a long pause, he said with a bitter smile, "Master Wayne, I did not expect you to find out so quickly."
Huh?
Find out what?
Are we using "find out" to mean the same thing?
Fra, do you have another master out there behind my back?
Wayne arched a brow. Bringing the tea up to sniff it, he replied in a deep voice, "That's right. I know everything. Out with it; there are no outsiders here."
"As expected of you, discovering it so swiftly. I thought I could conceal it for at least a little while."
Standing beside Wayne, Fra lowered his head like an erring student. "My deepest apologies. Before returning to Londan, Master Auston asked me to..."
"Wait a moment. That form of address is wrong. I don't want to hear you calling anyone else 'Master.'" Wayne raised a hand to cut him off. Fra referring to Auston as "Master" gave him an uncomfortable heaviness atop his head.
"Mr. Landau contacted me. He asked me to continue serving the Landau family, to regard him as my master in the future as well, and to report your every move to him at all times." Fra hid nothing. He did not wish to lie to his master.
"Did you agree?"
"I did."
Fra's expression dimmed. He had lost his master's trust. If he was not mistaken, he would be taking a train back to Enrold Town tonight.
"Did you hesitate?"
"A little."
"That is enough!"
Wayne rose to his feet, smoothed Fra's collar, and said with a smile, "We have plenty of days ahead. Perhaps you still belong to him right now, but sooner or later, I will win you over with my own hands."
"But..."
Fra was deeply moved. Even after all this, Wayne still dared to trust him.
"I could never find a better butler than you..."
"Mr. Landau can live without you, but I cannot!"
Chapter 87