Myths Reawakened

The front door to the agency was brute forced, but Wayne decided to let the culprit off the hook for the sake of Her Majesty. Only children got hung up on right and wrong; adults happily accepted the compensation.

He moved a cabinet over to block the door. He would replace the lock tomorrow morning. Then, with great difficulty, he carried one of Veronica’s suitcases to the second-and-a-half floor... Well, it was the third floor, but it was half-finished, with an open balcony that could be used to keep plants or dry clothes.

Wayne couldn’t afford the classy hobby of keeping plants. His finances only permitted endless work. Thus, the balcony remained empty.

Veronica seemed to find the floor’s layout agreeable. She watched the city at night by the window, holding the black cat in her arms.

Wayne knocked on the door and said with a frown, “Londan becomes abnormal at night. It’s best to close the window and draw the curtains.”

“Yes, the city is dangerous, especially to the ignorant...”

Without turning around, Veronica closed her eyes and enjoyed the night wind’s caress. The black cat in her arms stared into the distant sky with its golden eyes.

Wayne huffed silently. He knew Veronica was more than what met the eye and harbored many secrets. He simply didn’t want any trouble. Even though ghosts had been around for eons, it was too early for a carbon-based creature like him to face one.

“No offense, but will William be staying at the agency, too?”

“Yes, he’ll be the clerk in charge of documentation.”

Even a literal bear would hesitate before attacking that bear. In what way does he look like clerk material?

Wayne swallowed his comment and blurted out, “What about his salary? Are you paying for him to work here, too?”

“What else?”

Right! Wayne nodded. My bad. It’s insulting to question a rich lady.

He reminded Veronica to shut the window and go to bed soon before turning around to head downstairs. He had to hurry; William could be trying on his clothes right now.

“Wait, Wayne—I mean, Boss.” Veronica turned to him with a grave look on her face. “As your assistant, I suggest you close down shop tomorrow for a thorough clean-up.”

“Ah, the place is a little messy.”

Wayne readily agreed. He had wanted to clean up, but poverty dictated that he worked nonstop, leaving no time for anything else. He had only done some tidying up since he arrived.

After he was out of earshot, the black cat jumped onto the windowsill and said in a hoarse voice, “He smells strongly of death, and the wall’s marked. He must have gotten into close contact with the Deathwalker. He has a target on his back.”

The cat speaking human language would’ve been a shock for an ordinary person, but Veronica’s attitude made it obvious that it was the norm for her.. She put her arms around the cat to prevent it from falling out of the window. “He’s a detective. He’s likely been interacting with numerous people every day. It’ll be too difficult to go through the list one by one. But the Deathwalker never gives up their targets easily. We’ll have our answer in two days. If not, we can always look into the agency’s files for clues.”

“Seems like the sensible option,” Monica replied.

Veronica frowned in distaste. “The death around him is too thick to be normal. If he weren’t obviously alive, I would suspect him of being dead.”

“True, but thanks to him, we’ll be tracking down the Deathwalker soon.”

***

The second floor.

Wayne walked into his bedroom and immediately saw the hulk of a man that was William. Stacked on his side were all the posters featuring the female celebrity the original Wayne had collected. William was laughing as he read the diary he found in the nightstand’s drawer, the sound reverberating in the room like thunder.

Wayne couldn’t believe it. How could the two-meter hairy bear dressed in a striped tank top not be cursing the chronicle of the battle of the sexes as demonic?

Have you abandoned your kin? Condemn this profane literature!

The diary was the original Wayne’s parting work, which meant it had been penned by the very hands Wayne was moving right now. He couldn’t denounce it. Still, he didn’t rush up to take the diary from William.

Compared to social suicide, he was more worried about the possible resistance. What if William just grabbed his hand and refused to let go?

“Here you are, Wayne. Where did you get the diary? Did you write it?”

That’s not a diary. It’s a lonely wizard’s magical material[1]!

William waggled his eyebrows and spoke in a suggestive tone, “You’ve got good taste, but Lily Haworth is a singer and hasn’t made a lot of films. I prefer her screen partner. He’s handsome, funny, considerate, optimistic, has an easy smile, and is good at keeping a conversation going. He’d make a perfect partner. Don’t you think so?”

Wayne’s eyes twitched. He was that perfect partner!

“Why are you just standing there, Wayne? Come here!” William patted on the bed beside him.

“I’m good. I’ll grab my stuff and go downstairs. Veronica said that we’re waking up early to clean the house tomorrow.” Wayne took a small step back, making sure that he could run away and shut the door behind him if William made a sudden move. Thankfully, William didn’t insist that he stay.

Wayne moved all the magic materials to the storage and headed to the office downstairs, claiming the sofa as his bed.

The night passed uneventfully.

The next day, Wayne’s growling stomach woke him up. The physical exertion last night had exhausted him so much that he fell into a deep slumber like a father with a newborn. The ruckus in the kitchen didn’t wake him. It wasn’t until the pleasant aroma of food wafted to him that his eyes fluttered open.

Proteins! The Maillard reaction! Not potatoes!

Wayne turned to the kitchen in surprise. He was mistaken about the rich lady. He had thought she only had one skill: paying. But surprisingly, she was a great cook.

He hadn’t seen or tasted the food, but the aroma alone held his stomach hostage. It wouldn’t stop urging him to seek the source of the smell.

Soon, the source emerged from the kitchen in the form of William in an apron. The fabric clung on for dear life against his strong pecs and traps. He looked ridiculous. A pair of keen eyes would even spot the chest hair peeking out of the collar of his tank top.

He beckoned Wayne over to try his signature dishes. “You sure were dead to the world. It’s noon. I’ve made fish and chips, braised beef, and mushroom noodles. Aren’t you drooling already?”

(눈_눈)

Wayne stood corrected. He hadn’t been mistaken about the young lady, but about the hunk.

Before he could say anything, Veronica returned from her errand in a white shirt, a knitted blazer, breeches, and high boots. She looked like the very picture of professionalism.

Wayne nodded in approval. A beautiful face did not always come with a beautiful soul, but at least the face was beautiful. Veronica would look good even in a trash bag. In this outfit, she would fit right in if she transmigrated into Wayne’s original world.

She had made quite a lot of purchases, from simple furniture to everyday necessities, as well as potted plants, high-quality potting soil, and bottles of seeds. It seemed that she was going to decorate the open balcony on the third floor.

After lunch, she put on an apron, a hat, and a pair of oversleeves before going upstairs to clean the third floor. Monica helped, doing its best to wipe the windows with a rag.

William grumbled incessantly as he completed the physical work he was tasked with, including moving furniture and taking out the trash. He was a clerk, not a cleaner! At the very least, he was the cook!

Veronica hadn’t given Wayne any orders, making her dislike for him apparent. She wouldn’t even start a conversation with him unless absolutely necessary. As a result, he felt like an outsider at his own agency; everyone was working, while he had nothing to do.

Really? The owner feeling marginalized in his own company?

He wasn’t completely shameless—even if he were, he was too competitive not to do anything. He grabbed a mop and joined the cleaning crew.

An hour later, another knock came from the door.

Mrs. Reiner!

1. In Japan, there’s a saying that if one stays a virgin till they reach thirty, they’ll be able to do magic. ☜