Mythology Rebooted

Madam Laina, clad in a black coat, donned a pair of expensive leather shoes for ladies, and her round hat was adorned with a feather from some bird of unknown species.

Past her forties, with a full figure, her skeleton exceeded the average size of a woman, making her look quite robust.

As for her makeup, it could only be said that she had tried her best, but the ravages of time were too cruel and unforgiving.

Wayne considered himself not to be a man who judged by appearances, but if the aforementioned lady were to cast a flirtatious glance at him, pardon his bluntness, he thought that besides judging by looks, he had no other faults.

"It's a pleasure to see you, Madam Laina."

"The pleasure is mine, Wayne."

Madam Laina removed her leather gloves, opened her arms wide for a hug, and judging by the gleam in her eyes, one could tell that once she got a hold of you, she wouldn't let go.

Wayne tactfully declined the enthusiastic hug, proceeded with business and invited Madam Laina to sit, regretfully informing her that the commission was not completed. He had spent a great deal of time and effort but had found no evidence of Dr. Laina's infidelity and suggested that Madam Laina might try her luck with another detective agency.

Madam Laina did not take it to heart, nor did she accept the deposit Wayne offered to return, and she expressed her belief in Wayne's abilities, stating her willingness to wait a few more days.

That would hardly do, time waits for no one, Dr. Laina had evidence of your infidelity, waiting will only put you at a disadvantage.

Wayne tried to persuade her further, they engaged in awkward small talk for a while, and he personally escorted her out of the detective agency.

"Wayne, was that lady just now a client?" Veronica walked down the stairs, her appearance considered, but oblivious to the considerable amount of dust on her nose and cheeks.

Scars are a warrior's medals, Wayne saluted her but didn't voice it out, nodding and saying, "Madam Laina is a guest of the detective agency. She entrusted a family dispute to us a while ago. Due to some accident, she didn't get the investigation report today. My abilities are limited, so I advised her to seek help from another detective."

"It's just a family dispute, we could totally handle it, there's no need to turn away business."

"That's true, but this matter is very complex, not something that can be explained in a few words..." Wayne mumbled softly, his tone vague, trying to skirt the subject.

"What did you find?"

Veronica narrowed her eyes, one must never let a clue that arrives at their doorstep slip away.

"Well, how do I put this, why don't we continue cleaning, and wait..."

Whoosh!

Wayne's hesitation was interpreted by Veronica as holding out for a higher price. She decisively offered money as a way through, handing over two banknotes bearing the Queen's portrait.

Wayne silently accepted, a delightful misunderstanding he did not disdain and hoped Veronica would continue next time.

"Here's the situation. Some time ago, Dr. Laina entrusted... that afternoon Madam Laina... I conducted a tailing investigation on the couple separately, since Dr. Laina came first, both reports were given to him, and to show his gratitude, he paid voluntarily..."

Wayne narrated the cause and effect, "A detective's code of ethics forbids me from selling the investigation results to both sides. I'm a man of principles and will not accept another commission from Madam Laina, which is why I advised her to look elsewhere for help."

Veronica: "..."

According to her education, 'code of ethics' was not supposed to be used in this way.

Veronica flipped an attractive eye roll. This morning, she had browsed the diary on the desk, and since reading someone else's diary without permission is akin to invading privacy and is unethical, she asked Wayne's permission.

Wayne had been asleep at the time and did not speak.

Silence means consent!

The diary entries were filled with high praise for Wayne from the clients, commending the handsome young man's professional and ethical standards. The documented trivialities of life also indicated that Wayne was an active and upright outstanding young man.

He was law-abiding, helpful, brought positive energy to a decaying society, and was a role model for contemporary youth to learn from.

After reading the diary, Veronica's impression of Wayne had greatly improved. She felt ashamed of her misunderstanding of Wayne's character and made William cook more delicious food as compensation for her wrongful act of peeking into his diary.

Now she understood why such a private thing as a diary was not locked up but left on the easily accessible desk.

This is terrible, the university student felt she had been played by social trash!

"Continue, regarding Madam Laina, what else did you find out?"

Veronica, expressionless, handed over another banknote with the Queen's portrait. Madam Laina had the scent of death about her, having come into closer contact with a walker of Death than Wayne had, and following this lead would soon bring them to their hidden target.

"According to the investigation, Madam Laina, known for her philanthropy, has a small reputation among the dockworkers and the destitute artist circles, having quite a lot of people's favor..." Wayne, with no compunction, took the money and spilled everything he knew.

From a work perspective, it was quite reasonable and logical for a detective to share investigation results with an assistant.

From a business perspective, he didn't sell intelligence to Madam Laina, upholding his professional ethics.

"Be more specific, who are the painter and the dockworkers?"

"What do you want with that information?"

Wayne frowned, "Assistant Wei, don't make this hard for the boss, I've taken Dr. Laina's money, and our detective agency won't provide investigative services for Madam Laina."

"This has nothing to do with Madam Laina, I'm commissioning you to investigate," Veronica said, shaking the banknote in her hand.

"Please take a seat."

"..."

Can you not even put up a struggle?

————

Lundan City is divided into five districts based on political and economic factors, with the Central District, also known as Inner Lundan or Lundan Town, at its core. It is the political, economic, and cultural center of the entire Windsor Kingdom.

It houses the best universities, hospitals, the largest stock market, museums, theaters, and so on, firmly controlled by the nouveau riche who had transitioned from nobility.

The West and North districts are where the middle class concentrate, while the East and South districts, the largest in area and the most lacking in resources, are home to ports, industries, and warehouses, predominantly inhabited by the working class.

The port dockyards.

The sailors loosened the ropes, sounding a lilting ship's whistle as they set sail, where the blazing sun, the vast sea, and curses woven together formed a chapter unique to this place.

In the eyes of different people, the view of the dock varied drastically.

To the upper class, the dock was a place of romance, amidst the symphony of seagulls, where sailors would sing organized anthems of bravery, venturing into foreign lands against the winds and waves. They chased the true essence of life, explored unknown sea routes, brought back wealth, and delivered civilization, everything seemingly stepping right out of an oil painting.

In the eyes of the lower class, the dock was filthy, filled with the noise of seagulls, the chill of the seawater, and workers just like them, struggling to make a living, forced to be ragged and filthy, covered in dirt and sweat.

If this could be considered an oil painting, it must have been stamped with the dirtiest feet, dipped in the foulest mud and grease.

As an old capitalist powerhouse, the Windsor Kingdom's industrial facilities and infrastructure were comprehensively outdated, inevitably leading to a decline in production capacity, further exacerbated by economic depression and war, leaving the docks far from their former glory.

Approaching teatime, Veronica, cradling the black cat Monica, enjoyed some red tea at a restaurant, while Wayne and William split up to look for the dockworker Bruto.

Bruto was one of Madam Laina's underlings by the sea, known for his sturdy build and tremendous strength.

Wayne, as usual, went searching for the man's whereabouts, didn't find him, according to colleagues, Bruto hadn't come to work today and might have been at the warehouse district or possibly asleep at home.

On the way, Wayne had the bad luck of running into William, who, upon seeing him, brightened up, grabbed him, and would not let go, commiserating and grumbling.

"Wayne, I just ran into a young and destitute noble. He was drowning in debts and, out of desperation, came to the docks to find work…"

"I suggested to him that since he was ass-deep in debt, why not pay it off with his ass, but unfortunately, he refused. Such a waste, who knows who'll get the bargain in the end."

"Afterwards, I looked over a few others, but none as young and handsome as that down-and-out noble."

Wayne: "..."

What is this, some sort of gay Poseidon, a safe haven for ships, the legendary Bender's Dock?

Wait, so you've done nothing productive all day!

Wayne refused to engage with William and went to find Veronica to explain the situation; deciding whether to continue searching for Bruto at his house or to visit the failed art student's apartment.

"Let's go find the painter."

The failed art student named Abel was an artsy youth with unwavering artistic principles, who had been thoroughly exploited for his youth as a result of being supported by wealthy ladies for many years. Without youth, there was no support; without support, there was no income. Unable to pay his rent, Abel moved from the affluent North District to the East District.

Madam Laina wasn't Abel's first patron, nor the most attractive in figure and appearance, but Abel, who was used to being a gigolo, said that compared to the ladies of the North District, Madam Laina could be considered gentle and kind.

A serene and nurturing time for him, indeed.

"Abel plans to pursue art and earn a living in the East District, and once he's recuperated, he intends to make his way back to the North District. He's someone who is unwilling to endure hardship but can bear it when needed…"

In the taxi, Wayne described Abel's story to Veronica as tactfully as possible. He sat in the passenger seat, with Veronica, the black cat, and William in the back.

As they talked, Wayne occasionally looked back at Veronica, puzzled by the perfunctory expression on her face. She clearly had no interest in this case but was insistent on investigating thoroughly. What exactly was her reason?

The taxi stopped at the entrance to a street, and Wayne familiarly made his way to the third floor of the apartment building, the wooden floorboards creaking beneath his feet, with plenty of household trash piled along both sides of the corridor.

Rats scurried by, vanishing into the crevices of the walls, all indicating that Abel's life had plummeted to lows, much like his physical health.

Wayne had gone through the balcony last time; this time he took the stairs. Just as he was about to knock, William pushed him aside and banged on the wooden door with his pot-sized fists.

The door swung open, and Abel, dressed in a simple garment and wrapped in a blanket, looked perplexed. First, he glanced at the distinguished-looking Veronica and then quickly shut the door, intimidated by William's formidable, dance-ready pectorals.

Too late.

William barged in, nearly knocking Abel to the floor.

"Mr. Painter, our Lady would like to discuss a long-term assistance deal with you."

Could there be such good fortune?

Abel rejoiced wildly. With Veronica's conditions, forget about assistance; he would do it for free.

With such a spirited young lady, just a slight collision would inspire countless creative ideas. Thinking this, Abel felt his body surge with strength.

He did it again!

Next scene, Abel was tied to a chair with a cloth stuffed in his mouth.

Wayne: (눈_눈)

Such proficient torture artistry—would he have met the same fate had he refused last night?

"Don't be afraid—we're not good people, but if you answer our questions obediently, not only will we not hurt you, but we'll also pay you handsomely."

William smiled menacingly, flexing his pecs, "Of course, you can refuse, and the outcome will be like tender daisies being trampled, ending up as big as sunflowers."

Abel shook his head desperately; he knew nothing.

Wayne rolled his eyes in exasperation and reluctantly went along with the act. Such threats were unlikely to scare Abel. He approached Veronica and whispered, "What's going on? You said you wouldn't get me into trouble."

Veronica didn't answer and took a glass vial out of her lady's purse. Wayne looked on curiously—it was filled with colorful mushrooms.

Given their colors, these fungi must be extremely delightful to taste.

True enough, the mushrooms were so delicious they caused hallucinations. William forcefully fed Abel a mouthful, and his pupils gradually lost focus. His face became vacant of expression, and he chuckled idiotically.

"Who left you with this brand?"

William tightly grasped Abel's right hand, and a flash of light revealed a black inverted triangle symbol slowly emerging on the back of Abel's hand.

This symbol represented death, the mark of the Goddess of Death's followers.

Wayne watched in surprise, feeling a wave of warmth in his chest. The Book of Greed, to which he could look but get no response, expressed its desire the instant the light shone.

I want it!