After successfully using the Goddess's power to create the Slumber Charm, Caesar fell into contemplation. It wasn't because he had become a follower of the Goddess that he felt melancholic; rather, he was analyzing the reason for his unusually rapid potion digestion.
Secrets Suppliant, one who prays to a hidden existence.
Was it because praying to the Goddess—who represents secrets, the Mother of Concealment—aligned with the potion's name, causing it to digest quickly?
No, it was more than that.
Caesar carefully recalled that the potion hadn't digested rapidly at the moment of prayer, but at the instant he received the Goddess's response and attention.
Yes, prayer itself is just an action. The true purpose of prayer is to receive a response from a hidden existence!
The key point was—establishing a connection with a hidden existence!
He quickly linked this to the name of the Sequence 8 potion: Listener.
First, pray to a hidden existence. Then establish a connection. Then listen to the voice of a great existence—and finally, become a follower. This Pathway operated exactly like that. It all made sense!
So… could the object of Listening be changed to the Goddess? If so, would there be hope of advancing to Sequence 8 without becoming a fanatical believer of the True Creator?
For a moment, Caesar's thoughts raced. A bright path seemed to open before him, filling him with involuntary joy. Even if it might not succeed, the presence of hope was already something to celebrate.
Thus, his good mood carried into the next day. He was even smiling during meals.
"Caesar, did something good happen?" Rosanne couldn't help but ask.
"I suppose so."
Caesar smiled, tearing off a piece of bread and dipping it into the vegetable soup.
The meal they were eating was a working lunch. It was inconvenient to return home, so they had ordered from Old Weil Restaurant down the street, and a waiter delivered it on time.
Because there were official matters to discuss, Dunn had gone to a meeting with the captains of Machinery Hivemind and Mandated Punishers. Klein was at the Divination Club for lunch. Adding those on vacation, underground duty, or with unfinished work, only Caesar, Leonard, Rosanne, and Frye remained in the hall for the working lunch.
Frye, cold on the outside but warm within, rarely spoke. So, only the three of them chatted idly. The midday sun was bright, and sitting in the spacious hall while eating and talking made for a pleasant and leisurely atmosphere.
"So what exactly are you happy about? Did you stumble into another large sum of money?" Leonard joked.
"No, I'm just happy thinking about going to the theater with my sister this weekend to see a performance."
Caesar smiled and brushed it off.
He always felt that Leonard was a bit different. Whether it was his probing words or his daily behavior, Leonard seemed convinced that Caesar was unusual. Not only that, he always carried an air of self-confidence, as if he were the protagonist of a story and at ease with everyone.
"Going to the grand theater to see a performance, how nice!" Rosanne said with envy and longing. "I haven't been in ages! Ugh, work drains all my energy, and even on my days off, I just want to catch up on sleep. Why haven't any new administrative staff joined yet? I need someone to save my poor dark circles!"
"At times like these, you should think about those who rarely need to sleep." Leonard tapped his chest lightly and smiled.
"Sleep is a gift from the Goddess; I should be happy." Rosanne shot Leonard a resentful glance, then turned to Caesar. "When your sister goes to the performance, she'll definitely wear a beautiful dress, right?"
"A dress? I didn't notice. She probably only has two everyday dresses."
Caesar replied casually. Those two dresses were bought when they first moved. Cecilia had said that buying expensive ones would be too conspicuous at school, so she only bought two relatively plain dresses.
He noticed Rosanne's expression freeze.
"Only everyday dresses?" she asked, enunciating each word.
"Uh, yeah?" Caesar felt a bit uneasy.
Rosanne's chest rose and fell. She took a deep breath.
"Mr. Caesar Cardini, do you think it's appropriate for a beautiful young lady in the prime of her youth to wear only an ordinary dress on a day as special as going to the theater?"
"…It doesn't seem appropriate."
Caesar thought for a moment, then answered honestly.
He had almost forgotten that in this world, where entertainment was scarce, going to the theater to see a performance was already a highly ritualistic event. Many middle-class families, even if it cost them dearly, would maintain appearances and wear proper attire to such elegant occasions.
Although Caesar felt that clothes were just clothes, and a performance was just a performance, based on common social conventions, not preparing a beautiful dress for his sister was indeed a dereliction of his duty as a brother—especially since he wasn't short on money now.
"It's too late to have one custom-made," he said, thinking aloud. "Then I'll just take her to buy a ready-made dress."
"If you buy ready-made clothes directly, it might be very expensive—"
"Is anyone here!"
An angry voice suddenly rang out, interrupting Rosanne. The few of them looked up to see a lady in a magnificent dress striding in. She was slightly plump, a bit elderly, and her face showed undisguised anger.
"Madam, is there anything we can do for you?" Leonard stood up first and bowed politely.
The originally furious lady first scanned Leonard's face, then lingered on Caesar's. Her expression softened considerably. "Hmm. Do you have any capable people here? I need some help."
Capable people?
Caesar thought for a moment before realizing. Ah, right. Outwardly, this place was registered as a "Security Company." Security companies in Loen probably took on jobs like bodyguard work, escorts, investigations—and sometimes more dangerous gray-area tasks. So looking for "capable people" was an idiom meaning she had such a request.
But in truth, they were proper Nighthawks.
Just as Caesar was about to refuse, he heard Leonard happily say, "Indeed, madam, we are certainly very capable. But we don't yet know what you need us to do?"
Hearing him ask this, the lady's recently softened face turned fierce again.
"Catch a cheater!"
Mrs. Pond, the wife of a dock logistics company owner, had begun to suspect her husband of infidelity. He often came home late, and his attitude toward her had grown increasingly poor. The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. After a huge argument with her husband, she stomped out in anger and went looking for a private detective. By chance, she came across the Blackthorn Security Company.
"Well, couldn't it just be that your husband is busy with work?" Rosanne asked curiously, enjoying the gossip.
"Impossible!" Mrs. Pond flatly denied. "I have conclusive evidence."
"What evidence?" Rosanne pressed.
"He's been eating his fill outside! Not only are the meals fewer, but the portions at home aren't enough anymore either!" Mrs. Pond said indignantly.
Caesar mulled over the sentence for a few seconds, before finally realizing what the formidable lady was implying.
"Pfft!"
Frye, who had maintained a poker face throughout, couldn't hold back and spat out a mouthful of black tea.
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