After leaving Azik's house, Klein hailed a public carriage and returned to Mermaid Street.
Click. He took out his key and unlocked the door, suddenly seeing a figure sitting in the dining room.
Klein instinctively tightened his grip on his cane, but immediately realized it wasn't a thief, but the maid, Bela.
Bela was absorbed in reading a newspaper spread out on the table. Startled by the sound of the door opening, she abruptly stood up and stammered an explanation: "I, I just finished my morning chores, I'm waiting, waiting for the water to boil to eat, eat some bread."
I really haven't adapted to having a maid at home… Klein chuckled to himself. Taking off his hat, he nodded slightly and said: "Reading is a good habit. Persisting in reading amidst a busy schedule is something encouraged by the Goddess."
Afraid she might think he was mocking her, he invoked the name of the
But actually, only the
He had a fairly good impression of Bela.
Although this young girl seemed a bit out of her depth and clumsy in the kitchen, she showed a willingness to learn and hard work.
Bela lowered her hands and said, a little embarrassed: "I, I've never really looked at newspapers before. The landlord didn't allow us to buy old newspapers to plaster the walls… I just happened to glance at it when I was wiping the coffee table, and I found it, found it very interesting."
Poor girl. When I first transmigrated here, newspapers were at the bottom of the interest rankings… Klein quipped internally. Smiling, he took out his pocket watch by its silver chain, snapped it open with a click, glanced at it, and said casually: "As long as you finish your work and do it well, you can arrange your free time as you see fit. There's no need to be nervous. Of course, if Benson, Melissa, and I are chatting, it's best you stay in your room. I permit you to use the gas lamp in there and take a few old newspapers with you."
"Mm, knock on my bedroom door at one in the afternoon, then prepare me a cup of Sibe black tea, two soft white bread rolls, a slice of oatmeal toast, and a small saucer of cream."
To celebrate his promotion to Sequence 8, Klein decided to splurge a little and eat the white bread that Benson had planned to save for the weekend.
"Alright, I'll buy another eight pounds of it. From now on, my staple food will change from oat bread to white bread! A Sequence 8 Beyonder's weekly salary must have increased… The Captain didn't even mention it before… He forgot again!" Klein was stunned for a moment and decided to ask for clarification tomorrow.
"O-okay." Bela replied, pleasantly surprised.
Then, she asked with a hint of uncertainty: "Mr. Klein, is it the Sibe black tea for entertaining guests?"
Since the whole family were Morettis, she addressed him by his first name out of respect.
"Yes, that will be our daily tea from now on." Klein waved his hand and walked towards the stairwell.
After becoming a Clown, he suddenly realized his financial situation had become quite good.
This was firstly because there were no immediate large expenses, just the daily two-Sole carriage fare to investigate the house with the red chimney, and occasional material replenishments, which could often be reimbursed.
Secondly, there were a solid three hundred Pounds lying quietly in Klein's anonymous account. Consider that an are of rural land or pasture cost only five to six point five Soles. In other words, he could buy between nine hundred twenty to one thousand two hundred ares of rural land. This was roughly equivalent to one hundred thirty-seven to one hundred seventy-nine Chinese mu or twenty-three to thirty acres. Additionally, this money could also allow him to buy a fifteen-year land deed for a house on Mermaid Street.
If he converted it all into land, the rental income would be around twenty-three to thirty-one Pounds per year… Not bad, but there's no need for it right now. This three hundred Pounds must be kept for emergencies… Hoo, I need to find a chance to tell Benson and Melissa about my real weekly salary! Klein thought as he entered his bedroom.
Locking the door behind him, Klein sat on the bed and began to meditate again, slowly controlling the residual power emanating from the potion in this way, very, very cautiously and carefully.
For him, losing control was just a word used in conversation until he encountered that Punisher.
However, he didn't know that Punisher, nor what had happened to him prior. He subconsciously assumed it was a one-off case, something that rarely repeated.
It was like reading a news report about a murder in another city; a normal person would at most sigh a few times and then forget about it.
But
"What a bloody lesson…" Klein finished his meditation, opened his eyes, and silently muttered to himself.
During this period, he often dreamt of that day, often waking up abruptly in the middle of the night, drenched in a cold sweat.
He grieved for Old Neil's death and worried about his own future. If not for meditation helping him sleep, he believed he would have been unable to sleep many nights recently.
"Besides digesting the potion, I must also control my own emotions and desires as much as possible, keeping them within a reasonable range and not being corroded by them…" Klein exhaled, lay down, and soon fell into a deep sleep.
On the day Old Neil died, Dunn's performance and words gave him a great deal of inspiration, making him seriously examine the responsibilities of a Nighthawk for the first time, wanting to shoulder his own burden as soon as possible to help the Captain and his teammates.
Therefore, he didn't plan to waste the afternoon. The combat practice class would be attended as usual.