Chapter Three: Beautiful Appearance Doesn't Necessarily Mean Beautiful Soul, But She's At Least Beautiful in Appearance

The detective agency's door was violently destroyed, but out of respect for the Queen, Wayne didn't pursue it. Children know right from wrong, but adults lie down to collect money.

He moved a cabinet to block the door, prepared to replace the door lock the next morning, and then moved a box with great effort to the second and a half floor.

Although called the second and a half floor, it was actually the third floor. Only half of the third floor was built, leaving a rooftop terrace for planting flowers and plants or hanging clothes.

Wayne was poor and not qualified to plant flowers and grass. He was only worthy of striving endlessly, 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 from the window.

Wayne knocked on the door, frowned, and said, "The nights in Lundan are eerie. You'd better close the windows and keep the curtains drawn."

"That's right, this city is indeed dangerous, especially for the ignorant..."

Veronica didn't turn around, closing her eyes to enjoy the night breeze, while the black cat in her arms stared into the distant night sky with its golden eyes.

Wayne smirked. He knew Veronica wasn't an ordinary person, filled with secrets from head to toe. He just didn't want to cause trouble.

After all, things like ghosts and the like, although they had been around for many years, were still too advanced for carbon-based life forms.

"May I ask, will William continue to live in the detective agency?"

"Yes, he's the clerk you hired for the detective agency, responsible for handling files."

"..."

This guy was as big as a bear. How could he look like a clerk?

Wayne complained silently. He instinctively asked, "What about his salary? Is he also paid to work?"

"Why wouldn't he be?"

That's true!

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 soon. Then he turned around to go upstairs to pack his things. He had to hurry. Who knew if William had already been trying on his clothes.

"Wait, Wayne, I mean, boss."

Veronica turned around and said seriously, "As your assistant, I suggest that the detective agency close for the day tomorrow and undergo a thorough cleaning inside and out."

"Well, it's a bit dirty."

Wayne agreed. He had also planned to clean up before, but because he was busy due to being poor, he hadn't had time to do it properly and only tidied up a little.

After Wayne left, the black cat in Veronica's arms leaped onto the windowsill. Its voice was hoarse as it said, "There's a strong smell of death on him. It's intense. There are also marks on the walls, indicating that he has had close contact with the Deathwalker recently and has been targeted."

The black cat could talk, but Veronica didn't mind. She protected the black cat with her hands so it wouldn't fall out of the window. "He's a detective. He deals with many people every day, making it difficult to investigate. But the Deathwalker won't easily give up the target. We'll know in two days."

"If not, we can check his office files. Perhaps we can find some clues."

"We can only do that."

Veronica frowned and said with displeasure, "The death aura on him is too strong. It's abnormal. If he weren't indeed a living person, I would have suspected he was already dead."

"That's true, but thanks to him, we were able to find the Deathwalker so quickly."

Second floor.

Wayne walked into his bedroom, where he saw the tall and burly William. The latter had arranged all the posters of female celebrities and was hugging a future diary he found from the bedside table, laughing foolishly, his laughter as powerful as a barbell.

A two-meter-tall muscle man, wearing a blue and white striped sailor suit, was reading a youth training manual on how to fight between men and women without reproaching heresy, which made Wayne shake his head in disbelief.

Where's your philosophy? Hurry up and criticize it!

The future diary was the legacy of the original owner, equivalent to what Wayne had written himself. He couldn't deny his responsibility for this, but he didn't reach out to take back the diary.

Compared to being a social recluse, he was more afraid of reciprocal actions. What if William held him down and didn't let go?

"Wayne, you're here. Where did you get this diary? Did you write it?"

That's not a diary, it's a single mage's spell material!

William raised his eyebrows and winked suggestively. "You have good taste. But Lily Hawes is a singer who hasn't starred in many movies. I prefer the male leads in her movies, handsome, witty, considerate, optimistic, and talkative. They're the ideal partners. What do you think?"

Wayne's face turned ugly. He was the ideal partner like that.

"Wayne, why are you standing there? Come over!" William patted the bed beside him.

"No need, I'll tidy up and then go downstairs. Veronica said we need to do a big cleaning tomorrow morning." Wayne took a step back silently, making sure he could close the door and escape as soon as William rushed over.

Hearing this, William didn't trouble Wayne further. The latter moved a bunch of spell materials to the warehouse, tidied up his bedroll, and came to the sofa in the office.

There was silence for the whole night.

Wayne woke up hungry the next day. The physical activity from last night drained the last of his energy, giving him a quality sleep akin to that of a baby's father.

So much so that even with the clattering in the kitchen, he could still sleep soundly until the enticing aroma reached him, causing him to open his eyes abruptly.

It was barbecue, not the damn potatoes!

Wayne looked surprised. He had misunderstood the young lady. He had thought she was just someone who spent money, but her culinary skills were so exquisite.

Leaving aside the color and taste, just the fragrance alone was spot on, even his gluttonous instincts weren't sleepy anymore.

Before long, William, wearing an apron, emerged from the kitchen. His sturdy chest and shoulders made the small apron look ridiculous, and those with good eyesight could even see the protruding chest hair at the collar of his sailor suit.

William invited Wayne to taste his signature dishes: "You slept too heavily. It's already noon. I've prepared fish and chips, beef in sauce, and mushroom fried noodles. Aren't you starving?"

Wayne: (_)

Retracting his previous words, he hadn't misunderstood the young lady. He had misunderstood the muscle man.

Soon, Veronica, who had gone out shopping, returned. She wore a white shirt, a knitted suit jacket, tight trousers, and long boots, simple and competent, exuding a strong professional aura.

Wayne nodded repeatedly. Beautiful people might not have beautiful souls, but at least she was beautiful. Veronica's figure and appearance looked good in anything, even in the era he traveled from.

Veronica bought a lot of things, including simple furniture and daily necessities, as well as potted plants, high-quality soil suitable for planting, and a bunch of bottles and jars filled with plant seeds, apparently preparing to decorate the rooftop terrace on the third floor.

After lunch, she put on an apron, hat, and arm sleeves, and began to clean the third floor thoroughly, with the help of the black cat Monica, who was holding a cloth and wiping the windows diligently.

William was assigned a lot of physical work, moving furniture and taking out the trash, which made him complain incessantly. He was hired as a clerk, at worst a chef.

Veronica didn't assign Wayne any tasks. It was obvious she didn't like him very much. Unless necessary, she wouldn't even initiate a conversation with Wayne.

This directly led to Wayne's alienation from the detective agency. While everyone else was busy, he was idle, as if he were the outsider.

But the outsider was actually himself!

People have a sense of shame, and even a sense of victory or defeat. Wayne picked up a mop and joined the cleaning. He worked for an hour until the detective agency's door was knocked on again.

Mrs. Laina!