Love That Transcends Millennia

Chapter 4: The Detective's Commission

"Now that we have a recent goal, the plan is to check the room in more detail: search for money, look for a city map, and examine the books. Through words, we’ll learn about the world, explore its historical context and religious customs, and cautiously adapt to this place. The next decision is whether to stay for three months and help the detective complete his task, and only after understanding everything, make further plans."

Shade summarized the current situation, accepting the fact that the detective was dead. The worst part of the situation was not the presence of mystery in this world, but the complete lack of the original owner’s memories—leaving him completely ignorant of this world. Aside from that, the situation wasn’t all that bad.

He stood up and walked toward the washroom.

The gaslight in the washroom was malfunctioning. Even when turned to the maximum setting, it only emitted a faint glow.

In the dim light, he looked at the figure in the mirror. Faded golden hair, brown eyes that seemed almost black, a distinctly Western face, probably around 20 years old. His expression appeared somewhat nervous, and he stood at about 1.8 meters tall.

He had been a wanderer in his past life, so his appearance wasn’t particularly striking, but in Shade’s own aesthetic, he could consider himself decent.

"Well, this is me. I’d better not be startled by the stranger in the mirror anymore."

He muttered to himself quietly, then hesitated before cautiously checking his surroundings. Once sure no one was nearby, he whispered:

"Hey, hello? Are you still there?"

He tried to communicate again with the whispering woman’s voice, hoping to figure out what she was, but after waiting a long while with no response, he reluctantly gave up for the time being.

Next came the search for money. During his earlier search of the kitchen, he hadn’t found any food, and this body was clearly hungry. So, he needed to forget other concerns for now and focus on getting some money to eat.

But then, something unexpected happened. About half an hour later, Shade sat back down on the sofa bathed in warm yellow light, his face betraying an unmistakable sense of panic.

He was holding a bill, marked with the number 10. The bill was wrinkled and stained, smaller than the cards from the journal. The front featured the portrait of a person, while the back displayed the royal crest of the Drarion Kingdom, where he was currently located.

He had searched the entire house, flipping through every book and document, rifling through every pocket in the wardrobe. In the end, he had only found this single bill, tucked away in a gap behind the bookshelf as though it had slipped there by accident.

"Could it be that the currency in this world is so unique that this single bill will be enough for me to survive for three months?"

Despite trying to comfort himself with such a joke, Shade knew it was impossible.

"This is bad."

He leaned back on the couch, closed his eyes, and looked up at the white ceiling.

"Hamilton, where on earth did you hide the money? I promised I’d stay, but you didn’t leave me even a single coin, did you?"

Though he felt terrified, he genuinely wanted to catch up to the funeral procession and shake the corpse in the coffin, demanding answers.

If communication was the problem, being clever would keep him alive; if the body was disabled, as long as he was brave, survival wouldn't be an issue. But without money? That was impossible.

Clearly, Mr. Spike Hamilton didn’t cook at home, as there wasn’t even a leaf of vegetable in the kitchen. No rats either. Shade had no idea when the body he inhabited last ate, but it was clear now that he needed food.

Considering the human limits, Shade had to find a way to obtain money immediately, or find a way to earn it, or he might soon be forced to scour the streets for restaurants after sunset, hoping for luck in the alley dumpsters.

"No, no way."

He glared at the lone bill in his hand, his expression darkening like the sky outside.

"Though I don’t know the denomination, it’s still money. And there’s the 'Sun 3' card in the journal. These should be enough to keep me alive. But since I can’t find any money for now, I’ll have to consider a long-term way to earn it."

The knowledge of a traveler might be valuable, but in a strange place, monetizing that knowledge was not only troublesome but dangerous, especially when this world had its own mysterious forces at play.

He thought about the fact that this was a detective agency, and that Mr. Hamilton had seemingly mentioned before his death that he had left some relatively safe tasks for “Shade”—the original Shade, whose intelligence wasn’t very high—so that Shade could maintain the detective identity and keep the agency running.

Since he hadn’t yet found the late detective’s money, Shade had to prepare for the worst and start considering ways to make a living.

"Now that I think about it, Mr. Hamilton knew that Shade—the original Shade—wasn’t very bright, so he must have left simple tasks to keep the agency going. So, maybe he’s already solved those cases, and all I need to do is collect the payment! Even though there’s mystery in this world, at least ordinary life is the mainstream."

Shade suddenly had an idea. He got up, went to the nightstand in the master bedroom, and retrieved the journal that was hidden in the shadows. He also gathered the detective’s belongings from the study—an accounting book, a memo pad, and a work log. While he hadn’t found any money, these things were available.

Detective Spiro Hamilton was a very organized and meticulous person. Even though Shade hadn’t studied accounting or business management, he found Hamilton’s records of the agency’s operations to be impressively detailed. Of course, this was mostly due to Shade’s own admiration, because the cases that the agency had yet to solve were really quite simple, and most of them had already been partially completed.

“Find Miss White’s runaway sister, follow Mr. Lawrence’s mistress, locate the missing orange cat, Mia, inquire about a doctor who could treat eye diseases… These all look pretty simple, and not very dangerous. Oh, Mr. Hamilton has already handled most of them. If I stay here to manage, solving one of these in two or three weeks would be enough to keep the agency going.”

As Shade flipped through Hamilton’s handwritten reports, he summarized the situation. But for now, what he needed wasn’t long-term management of the agency—he needed to make money to survive in the short term.

After comparing the remaining difficulty of the four tasks, the payment methods, and the amounts, Shade decided to take on the "follow Mr. Lawrence’s mistress" commission first.

According to the case report, Detective Hamilton had been following the mistress for several months, but had recently stopped due to poor health. In fact, the report could already be handed over to the client to settle the remaining balance. However, Hamilton had left a note in the report, specifically considering that Shade might have limited literacy. The note was written with simple words.

The note said that if Shade intended to complete the task, it would be better to add some recent records before submitting the report to ensure a higher payment and avoid suspicion from the client.

In other words, Shade just needed to follow the mistress again to complete the commission. Although this wouldn’t be a perfect completion, it would at least fulfill the client’s—Mr. Lawrence’s wife’s—requirements, which would be enough to collect the remaining payment of "1 pound 7 shillings" for the commission, or 1 pound 4 shillings.

From the tone of the detective’s notes, this was quite a generous payment.

Shade chose this task not only because of the payment but also because cases involving helping a wife catch her husband’s mistress were something Hamilton had handled many times before. They were simple cases, and there wouldn’t be any major problems during the handover. Spiro Hamilton might not have been a famous detective, but he was very skilled at handling extramarital affairs.

Shade didn’t want to stay in this terrifying house, where someone had just died, surviving on cold water and paper. So he decided to set off for the investigation, hoping to deliver the report to the client before dusk.

“No problem. I’ll take on this commission, get my first payment, and then slowly explore the secrets of the dead detective and figure out where the voice in my head is coming from. Everything will be fine!”

He encouraged himself as he first found the city map. Based on Hamilton’s report and the calendar on the wall, he deduced the potential locations where the mistress, Mrs. Lasoya, might appear. These were simple tasks, and the hardest part was finding his current location on the “Tobesk City Map.”

The map of Tobesk City in the agency had many annotations left by the previous detective. It even marked places where he usually gathered information and locations of black markets dealing in “sensitive goods.”

But the original detective didn’t have the habit of marking his own home on the map. Fortunately, when Shade was going through the documents, he found an old tracking record with the route of a past operation, which confirmed that the apartment was located at No. 6, Saint Delan Square, in the city center of Tobesk.

“Thanks to Spiro Hamilton’s meticulous record-keeping. This is... a house right next to the city center’s square. Hmm? How much would a house in this location cost?”

Shade muttered in surprise as he noticed, just two streets away from Saint Delan Square, a palace complex called “Yoder Palace.”

According to a crumpled newspaper he found, the second edition, between the first page’s news of “City-wide Third Round of Steam Pipe Reconstruction” and the third page’s “Investigation Report on the Collapse of the Ancient Tower of Karas Mountain,” mentioned that Yoder Palace was the royal residence of the Drarion Kingdom.

In the original world, Shade hadn’t had a home, and now his heart raced, the panic and nervousness momentarily replaced by a burst of excitement.

He muttered to himself while looking at the documents in his hand:

“So, I’m currently in the capital city of the Drarion Kingdom, one of the two major kingdoms in this world, and this apartment is right next to the city center square. I have such a place, and I’m still worrying about starving to death?”

His previously tense mood loosened, but the apartment couldn’t be easily sold, and Shade still wasn’t planning to give up on Hamilton’s three-month commission. At least he had a stable footing now to think further.

But a sincere smile appeared on his face, replacing the previous anxious expression. With a house in this prime location, he wouldn’t have to worry about his smile fading in the future. Shade realized that while he had found the will earlier, he hadn’t found any documents related to the deed or property rights.

“This apartment couldn’t possibly be rented, could it?”

The more he thought about it, the more likely that seemed. If he could afford a place in this prime location, he wouldn’t need to run a detective agency; just collecting rent would be enough to support himself. Even though the detective’s operations weren’t just for profit, the interior design of the apartment didn’t seem to be something Detective Hamilton would own himself.

“So, I’m probably still paying an unknown rent every month?”

Shade came to this conclusion incredulously and looked again at the calendar hanging on the living room wall.

It was now the third Saturday of June, 1853. If he really had to pay rent, the likelihood of paying at the beginning of each month was high.

“This world uses a twelve-month system, and the dates seem similar to the old world... Maybe I should run away. Pack up my clothes, grab a suitcase, and take off. I could start my mysterious world journey as a wanderer. Staying here without income… who knows, maybe Hamilton left me some debts I don’t know about.”