The fairy maid cheers for her deceased master today.

The rain is still falling, it never stops.

Water streaks meandered across the glass window.

Irene opened her eyes, her head throbbing with pain.

The dullness of a hangover spread from my temples to the back of my neck, as if a small hammer was gently tapping inside my skull.

Her emerald-green hair lay scattered on the pillow, tangled with the sofa fabric. She struggled to sit up, her gaze focused.

—Then I gasped.

The living room looked like it had been swept by a hurricane.

Broken glass littered the expensive Persian carpet, gleaming dangerously in the morning light. A brass candlestick leaned precariously in the corner, its wax congealing into pale streaks. The wooden strips reinforcing the doors and windows were broken, as if gnawed by a giant beast.

The air was filled with the smell of gunpowder, burnt smells, and a faint... swampy odor.

"Oh my god..."

She threw off the blanket and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor.

She saw Catherine Wentworth curled up in the armchair, her blonde hair disheveled, fast asleep, her silver cane still clutched tightly in her hand. Maid Mary was curled up in the shadows by the fireplace, asleep with her knees drawn up. The fairy Angel was fast asleep, perched on a chest.

And Sir Axemore…

He leaned against the window in the shadows, his dark coat stained with ash, a revolver hanging casually at his side. His eyes, like tempered obsidian, calmly swept over the mess before finally settling on her.

Then he laughed.

"You're awake? Why don't you sleep a little longer?"

"This...this is..." Elena's voice trembled slightly.

"Oh, you mean that? Spring-Heeled Jack," X replied briefly, as if it were a trivial matter. "He visited last night, and was very hospitable."

The voices woke Catherine, who was a light sleeper.

She sat up straight, rubbing her temples, her voice hoarse with the shock of a near-death experience: "It was like it was going crazy. If it weren't for the special flashlight the jazz had prepared..."

Elena's heart sank. Jack! The legend who leaped through the shadows of London!

She looked at X, and his calm, seemingly in control demeanor gave her a sense of relief.

"Are you... injured?" She subconsciously took two steps closer, her gaze sweeping over him.

"Don't worry, you're basically fine." AX gestured to the sofa. "You'd better sit down. You're still hungover and have been frightened; you don't look too good."

Irene's cheeks flushed instantly. Fragments of memories from last night at the Ritz Hotel surged back—candlelight, red wine, his profile so close to hers, and her own…drunken ramblings.

"Sir, and everyone!" She forced herself to straighten her back, trying to regain her previous composure. "Leave this to me! Please go and rest! Mary, prepare some refreshing tea and hot towels!"

Her orders carried an unquestionable authority.

Mary was startled awake, then hurriedly got up as if granted a pardon. Catherine hesitated for a moment, then stood up as well: "Well... I'll go back to my room and get some sleep. Thank you, Sir."

Her eyes were filled with gratitude as she looked at Ex.

Soon, only X and Elena remained in the living room, along with the sleeping Angel. The sound of rain became the only background noise.

Irene took a deep breath, rolled up her sleeves, and began to pick up the broken glass and splinters of wood from the ground.

Ax didn't leave. He leaned against the window, watching her busy herself. His gaze danced across her emerald hair and focused profile.

"Do you need any help?" Ex asked.

Irene's hand trembled, nearly dropping the shards of glass. She quickly steadied herself, her back to him, her voice strained, "No...no need! Sir, you are a guest, how could I trouble you! Besides..."

And what?

She bit her lower lip. Those drunken words from last night… “Sir, do you believe in fate?” “Your eyes…so familiar…so warm…like a cat basking in the sun!”

Oh my god! She really wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear!

Ax seemed oblivious to her embarrassment and walked straight over. He bent down, picked up a dirty copy of "The Detective Chronicles of Shuk Street," and gently brushed the dust off the cover.

"Elena." His voice was very close.

Irene's heart skipped a beat, and she instinctively took a half-step back, only to bump into the coffee table behind her. She froze.

Ax simply handed her the book, his gaze calm: "Last night, you said you saw me outside Catherine's old office, 'like a cat sunbathing,' and you also said..."

Irene's cheeks flushed instantly, even her ears turning crimson. She snatched the book away, practically grabbing it: "I...I was drunk! I was rambling! Sir, please don't take it to heart!"

"Oh?" AX raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement flashing in his obsidian eyes. "Then... what if I said I remember too?"

"You...you remember what!?" Elena's voice rose, tinged with panic.

Ex did not answer immediately. His gaze passed over her and fell on the gray rain outside the window, as if he were recalling something.

"I remember the sunlight," he said slowly.

In the Rain World, it rains all year round, and Irene originally couldn't see the "sunlight".

Therefore, the image she remembers must overlap with reality three years later.

"The sunlight is warm, it shines warmly into the alley... And about your question about fate... I believe in fate." He paused, looking at Elena, "We were destined to meet."

We met again three years later. I can even pinpoint the exact month and day.

Even fortune tellers aren't as accurate as me.

Irene's heart pounded faster. Those hazy fragments of memory were now crystal clear. Yes, the sunlight that day, the wind that day, and the person standing at the door, their shadow stretched long…

"That...that's good!" She forced herself to remain calm, bending down to tidy up the pages of a book that didn't even need tidying. "Sir, you..."

"Ex," Ex interrupted her, "call me Ex."

Irene looked up and met his deep gaze. That gaze was like the London sky after the rain, clear and pure, yet unfathomable.

"Sir... Sir Axe," she repeated softly, her cheeks seeming to warm even more. She still seemed unaccustomed to being addressed by name.

"Something's not right!" Angel, sitting on the wooden crate next to her, suddenly murmured.

Both of them immediately turned their gaze to her.

However, the fairy girl stopped moving again, clearly talking in her sleep.

Ex and Elena exchanged a smile.

■

After tidying up, the office was finally restored to its former cleanliness.

Mary brought in steaming hot scones and black tea. Catherine also came downstairs looking refreshed, carrying her lucky gloves.

"Ah, perfect!" She put on her gloves and snapped her fingers. "Sir, Elena, thanks to you both! I don't have to worry about these little things anymore. I just need to go to Scotland Yard; I have a case to follow up on."

She glanced at the sky again: "The rain seems to be lessening, that's perfect."

"Be careful on the road." Ex nodded.

"Be careful," Elena added.

Angel nodded in agreement.

After Catherine left, only X, Elena, and Angel remained in the agency.

The atmosphere was strangely awkward. Angel held a freshly baked scones, her blue eyes darting back and forth between X and Elena.

"Master!" she mumbled, her mouth bulging, "Sister Elena's face is so red! Like a ripe apple!"

"Angel!" Elena exclaimed, both embarrassed and annoyed.

Ex laughed. He walked to the center of the living room, his gaze sweeping over Elena and Angel: "Perfect timing, I have an idea I'd like to try with you two."

"Thoughts?" Elena asked curiously.

Ex did not answer immediately. His gaze fell on Elena, with a probing look in his eyes.

Then he said, "Last night, at the moment Jack attacked, Angel seemed to... anticipate my actions."

"Because my master called my name!" Angel puffed out her chest, her face beaming with pride. "So I came!"

"No, that's not the point." AX shook his head and smiled gently. "The point is before that, before you acted, I think... I heard a voice in your mind."

"Oh...wait!?"