I loaded the Mysticism panel.

The head of the inspection team stood beside the car door, watching him.

Those eyes, set in a skull-like face, had small pupils and no extraneous expression.

"Richard Williams?"

"Who are you……"

"Head of the Inspectorate at the Briston office, you can call me Wentworth."

"Around 10:40 a.m. today, an unusual public incident occurred near the pie stall on Central Avenue."

Wentworth put his hands in his uniform pockets:

"Pedestrians in a small area lose their balance simultaneously for about three to five minutes."

"Police officers from the North District Police Station were the first to arrive at the scene and initially determined it to be a mass hysteria attack. The case has been handed over to the health department."

"The health department is us."

Richard stood still, but his hand had unconsciously tightened its grip on the crowbar in his pocket.

"What ordinary patrol officers see is 'mass hysteria'."

Wentworth continued, speaking calmly and deliberately: "But what we see is different."

"The traces of etheric disturbance remaining at the scene have not completely dissipated. The diffusion pattern is a typical barrier-free release, with an attenuation radius of about six to seven meters, which is completely consistent with the characteristics of the Fog Wall spell."

"It's just that it's used too crudely."

As he said this, the corners of his mouth twitched, but he held back from laughing.

"We've seen the scene with your two thugs; they're repeat offenders."

When the patrol officers arrested them, several eyewitnesses could piece together a story that 'two thugs attacked a victim from both sides.'

"Therefore, the General Administration of Customs will not pursue the matter of legitimate self-defense, so you don't need to worry."

He reached his hand out of his pocket and showed Richard a small bronze plaque engraved with a pattern of intersecting gears and thorns.

This is the internal emblem of the Imperial Public Health Inspection Agency.

"But according to the regulations," Wentworth said, twirling the bronze medal in his hand before putting it back.

"Using extraordinary means in public places that could lead to the risk of information being leaked from the curtain."

Regardless of the individual's motive, they will be detained by the local resident office in the jurisdiction before being transferred to a higher authority for adjudication.

"Or..." he changed the subject:

"You'll register your name with us and pay a fine."

Today's events will not enter the patrol police system or the headquarters' case files; they will be handled internally by the branch office.

"So what do you want?" Richard asked.

"The branch offices occasionally have some work to do," Wentworth said.

"When you become a professional in the future, we'll ask you to do a little help for the branch offices every year. That's what we need."

Richard roughly understood.

But he couldn't possibly agree right away.

Richard took his hand out of his pocket: "Could I make a phone call first?"

Wentworth was somewhat surprised: "Who are you going to call?"

"My maternal grandfather, Gerald Ashford."

Upon hearing the name, the man's expression changed: "Oh? You're related to Mr. Gerald?"

"right."

He didn't speak again, seemingly lost in thought.

"So he's from the Ashford family. No wonder he was so ruthless."

Wentworth chuckled, and for the first time, his skeletal face began to resemble a living person.

"Born into a family of hunters, yet choosing the path of a scholar—I recall someone in your family already did that, right?"

The two children who were rummaging through the ant nest in the alley had disappeared without a trace.

They were probably scared away by that van with "Sanitation Inspection Team" painted on it.

In Bristol, it's never good news if any vehicle with official markings is parked in front of your house.

"Go ahead and make the call," Wentworth nodded. "There's a public phone booth right at the alley entrance."

………………

The red paint on the public phone booth had mostly peeled off, and the glass on the door was cracked and taped back together.

Richard took a few coins from his pocket, put them into the coin slot, picked up the receiver, and the coin wheel spun around seven times.

After three long rings, the phone was answered.

"Who is it?" the butler asked calmly.

"Richard Williams, I'm looking for my maternal grandfather."

"Please wait a moment, young master."

About half a minute later.

"Richard," the old man's voice came through, "Why did you call me so quickly? What happened?"

Richard recounted the events in the most concise language possible.

There was silence on the other end of the phone for a while.

Gerrard sighed.

"What's wrong?" Richard asked nervously. Had he really gotten himself into a huge mess this time?

"Did you know that savings banks can arrange for someone to deliver large withdrawals?"

"...What?"

"Take your ID and bankbook to the counter to apply, fill out a delivery form, and pay a five-shilling delivery fee."

The next day, a security guard will arrive with the cash, which will be counted and signed for in person.

Richard's hand, gripping the receiver, stiffened for a moment.

"Don't you think about it? Banks handle so much money every day, they can't expect every customer to carry around large sums of cash on their own?"

There's a notice about the delivery service posted on the wall at the counter, didn't you see it?

He really didn't see it.

After entering the savings bank, he queued up. When it was his turn, he handed over his passbook and said he wanted to withdraw money. After withdrawing the money, he took the envelope and left.

He didn't even notice what notices were posted on the wall.

"I didn't notice."

"Yeah, I didn't notice." Gerald repeated, seemingly not particularly surprised.

"At your age, it's normal to be nervous handling so much cash for the first time," he said.

"Just remember next time, and pay the delivery fee when you're due."

"I've got it."

"You handled the matter with those two thugs quite well," Gerald said.

Richard was somewhat surprised.

He was prepared to be scolded by his grandfather, and had even prepared a few words of defense in his mind.

But the old man on the other end of the phone actually gave his approval.

"He took down two adult men with his bare hands and even knew how to erase the memories of the bystanders."

The only problem was that your Fog Wall spell went out of control later, causing public chaos.

"Maintaining the secrecy of the veil is the first rule of common practice for newcomers."

Richard frowned. Mr. Hutton only said that revealing occult knowledge to ordinary people would cause mental pollution.

But it has never been said that mystical techniques cannot be displayed in public.

Gerrard didn't press the matter further:

"The person who taught you most likely taught the Fog Wall Technique as a minor technique for enclosing spaces, which is its original usage."

"Now..." Richard asked tentatively.

The old man coughed softly.

"Is the inspection team leader still waiting outside?"

"Give him the phone, I'll talk to him."

Richard pushed open the door of the phone booth and gestured to Wentworth, who was standing a few steps away.

Wentworth walked over, took the receiver, and held it to his ear.

Richard couldn't hear what was being said on the phone; he could only see Wentworth's face.

That skeletal face maintained the same expression throughout... Listen attentively, without interrupting.

After speaking for about two minutes, Wentworth handed the receiver back to him.

Your grandfather wants to say a few more words to you.

Richard reattached the receiver.

Richard.

"exist."

"I've already taken care of this for you," Gerrard replied calmly.

"They knew to call me when something happened, which saved both of us a lot of trouble."