Furen sat on his plush sofa, pondering whether he had any other valuables in his home.
Ultimately, he concluded that, aside from the title deed, the money, and the stocks stored in the secret hiding place in his bedroom, he had nothing else that required special attention. Of course, the Beyonder materials in the hidden cellar were also important, but his principle was clear: he never allowed the cleaning ladies down to the basement.
Having no other worries, Furen took out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was about nine o'clock, which, for the time, was already very late. Even the most diligent workers were usually asleep before ten o'clock, except for certain professions, such as police officers or guards on night duty.
But Furen had developed the "good habit" of going to bed at eleven o'clock. For people of his age, he was a true night owl. He then published a book on occult knowledge, hoping to broaden his understanding somewhat.
However, as soon as he laid eyes on the book, he realized how naive he had been. He really needed to broaden his knowledge because he didn't understand the book's writing at all. Yes, truly, he didn't understand the characters used.
Scratching his head in annoyance, Furen realized that his study plan needed to be revised. At the moment, he only mastered three languages: Intisian, Hermes, and Ancient Hermes.
However, this mystical book was written in ancient Feysac and dated to the Fourth Age. At that time, the common language was not ancient Hermes, but the ancient Feysac of Solomon's Empire and the Tutan of Byron's Kingdom.
(Translator: I'm sorry, I haven't found anything that corresponds to the Byron kingdoms. If you know, please let me know and I'll correct it. Thank you, readers.)
Furen realized he needed to learn a new language, which would delay the time it took to digest his potion. So he picked up another esoteric book at random, read through it for about an hour, then blew out his candle and fell asleep.
The night passed without incident. The next day, when he awoke, he found it was only nine o'clock. He remembered having an appointment at one o'clock in the afternoon; so he got up early, then walked around the house to examine details he had not noticed the day before.
Once fully awake, he left his home. Crossing the upscale Kinghanston district, considered one of the most beautiful in the city of Trier, which was said to be the most charming in the world, he arrived almost perfectly on time at the Kinghanston Neighbourhood Improvement Society. The details of his little daily routine are not worth recounting.
Under the blazing midday sun, Furen discovers the other side of the "City of Light" that was Triers: the heat. It was said that the perpetually dark sky of Backlund came from the influence of a god, and that the scorching sun of Triers likewise emanated from a true God.
Every day, at the hour of zenith, regardless of the season or weather, from noon until one o'clock in the afternoon, even in torrential rain and strong winds, the sun's rays always pierced the thick clouds. This strange phenomenon attracted the attention of many meteorologists, but the explanation invariably ended up attributing it to a miracle of the Creator and the blessing of the "Eternal Sun."
Sensing such divine power, Furen felt almost a certain desire for it. But even the grandest projects had to pass through a trivial reality: he had to settle these household matters himself… and this idea deeply wearyed him.
He then thought with a certain malice: When these gods were still at low levels, did they take care of their daily lives themselves? Or did they already have servants? But once they reached the level of angels, they completely escaped human limitations, becoming demigods, or even true deities.
"I don't want to be human anymore!" he thought suddenly, recalling that classic line accompanied by a charismatic thumbs-up. "It's in my genes," he muttered to himself. "I don't want to be human anymore either..."
At midday, or rather during working hours, the "Kinghanston Neighbourhood Improvement Society" was extremely active. Even during the employees' and workers' lunch break, the flow of people at the entrance wasn't as dense as a river of cars, but it was still quite substantial.
Furen arrives at 11:55, perfectly on time.
The large white hall was filled with employees handling various tasks. Some were busy, others were not. Two young receptionists, elegant and well-dressed, saw Furen enter and immediately went towards him.
"Good morning, sir. How can I help you?" demanded one of them before Furen could even examine the difference between the work atmosphere of the day and that of the day before.
The receptionist wore a badge on her impeccable outfit, bearing the name Zoé Adler. It seemed that only receptionists had this type of badge, unlike the employees handling the files whom we had met the day before.
"Hello. I made an appointment last night to interview three cleaning ladies. Is it possible now?" replied Furen.
Zoe did not respond immediately, but guided him to a counter where appointments were being checked, like a sort of information kiosk.
After a few questions, she asked Mr. Furen, "Are you Mr. Furen?" Having received an affirmative reply, she said, "Then please follow me."
Guided by Zoé, Furen went up to the third floor. Clearly, this business had the beginnings of a modern structure: simple, clean, efficient. Nothing like the luxurious cafes or clubs in Trier. Despite the lack of human warmth, he appreciated its efficiency.
No attempt was made to impress Furen with a luxurious interview. In a simple and functional room, three long sofas surrounded a main armchair that was still unoccupied.
This is where the three cleaning women to be interviewed were waiting for him. In reality, they were more like contract workers than true domestic servants, but people at the time preferred to call them "servants".
Without further ado, Furen quickly announces:
"I don't have many requirements. I want a maid I can trust, someone to clean and wash my clothes. I should warn you, though: since I'm often away, I'll be discreetly observing from time to time. So, which one of you would like to become my housekeeper?"
To Furen's surprise, all three women raised their hands. Even the one whose work ended at noon, and even the one who finished at five o'clock. Perhaps they had raised their hands because he had questioned their honesty.
(End of chapter)