The fairy maid cheers for her deceased master today.

X pressed on, a hint of inquiry in his eyes: "So you think the most crucial thing right now is to find Lucy?"

Just as James was about to answer, Sheriff Doyle suddenly interrupted him:

"Alright, James, these are all just your speculations. What we need in our investigations is solid evidence, not empty talk."

"But Sheriff!" James's voice was urgent, his hands unconsciously clenching into fists. "This case has dragged on for so long, Caroline deserves to be treated fairly! I strongly request to be included in the investigation!"

"This isn't your case... okay."

Looking at the eager light in the young man's eyes, Sheriff Doyle finally sighed helplessly.

"Okay, you can join the investigation. But remember, everything must be done according to police regulations; don't do anything reckless."

James clenched his fist excitedly, a bright smile spreading across his face. "Great! I promise I won't let you down!"

As Axe looked at the energetic young policeman, he couldn't help but wonder: Was he genuinely kind-hearted... or did he have ulterior motives?

Then X chuckled and shook his head.

Playing too many games makes me think everyone who approaches me is a suspect. I need to change that habit.

James saluted, then strode out of the office, his footsteps fading into the distance.

Sheriff Doyle watched James's departing figure and shook his head helplessly.

"This case is currently stuck, and we definitely need the help of detectives like you. You've come at the right time; once you're ready, you can go to the scene to investigate at any time. Are you starting tomorrow?"

Just as Elena was about to agree, she suddenly noticed Angel giving her a wink.

At the same time, Ex said, "We need to go back and prepare; we have some things to take care of. We'll come back to see you when we're ready."

"Of course, since there's no progress on this case for now, you can come back when you're ready."

Sheriff Doyle nodded and put the folder back on the file shelf.

"I'm waiting for your news."

■

The three walked out of the police station. The morning mist had dissipated somewhat, and sunlight shone through the clouds onto the ground, creating patches of light.

Elena looked at Angel curiously: "Angel, what were you trying to say just now?"

Angel blinked her sapphire-like eyes, looked at X, and said softly, "Master, we still have to go back to manage the Miracle Workshop. Besides, Deacon Samuel also asked someone to tell you that once you've recovered, you need to go to the Royal Magic Association to register accordingly."

Elena slapped her forehead, suddenly realizing, "Oh right, how could I forget all that! Sir Ax's workshop still needs to be run; it hasn't been open for days. We also need to keep an eye on the relic news."

However, X felt that news about the artifacts wasn't urgent.

……

[Status: The deceased has been revived. Time remaining: 406 hours and 03 minutes.]

……

Looking at the remaining time, it should be more than enough to last for a few weeks.

AX nodded, a thoughtful look in his eyes: "It seems we still have a lot of preparatory work to do before we begin investigating this case."

We should definitely make money first, and then try to keep the workshop open. We still need to keep it running, otherwise we'll be starving. We need to have a stable foundation.

So X changed direction.

"Let's go, let's go check out the job market first."

■

Today's job market is noisy and chaotic.

Hundreds of job seekers crowded into the small square, the air thick with the strange smells of sweat, cheap tobacco, and hope.

Ax instinctively wondered if he had come to the wrong place.

This is not a place for a nobleman like myself to be. Oh well, I'm just a fallen nobleman, so it doesn't matter.

Ex frowned, took Angel's hand, and squeezed through the crowd.

Elena was even more impolite, summoning a clump of vines to entwine around the three of them, and the three of them broke through the crowd and walked straight inside.

Along the way, some job seekers held up signs that read "Mechanic," while others shouted their skills directly to passing employers, creating a chaotic symphony of voices.

"Master, it's so noisy here." Angel clutched X's clothes tightly, her blue eyes scanning the surroundings uneasily. Her pointed ears trembled slightly from the noise, showing her discomfort.

X thought for a moment, then quietly released his magic and produced two parasitic bullets. These were miniaturized versions.

"Try it, Angel, see if you can plug your ears?"

"good!"

Angel happily took the parasitic bullet and found that it could be used as an earplug.

Angel felt much better now.

AX gently patted the back of her hand: "Bear with it, we need to find the right person to manage the workshop."

Continuing on, Ax noticed a corner of the market where several well-dressed employers sat behind makeshift tables, with long queues in front of them.

These employers were mostly factory owners or workshop owners, who scrutinized each applicant with a critical eye, occasionally shaking their heads or taking notes. The job seekers, on the other hand, wore their best clothes, though most were worn and faded, but they still tried to maintain a presentable appearance.

It seems that the Industrial Revolution brought a large number of factory jobs, but it also led to unemployment among traditional artisans, making job competition extremely fierce.

In such a fiercely competitive job market, it's impossible to find gentle and refined people.

Axe soon saw people arguing about work.

Three workers were arguing fiercely, one of them even waving his fist. They were pulled apart by others.

On the other side of the market, a well-dressed agent was introducing job opportunities to a group of job seekers, promising high salaries and good working conditions. However, Ax knew that these promises were often difficult to fulfill.

But these things are irrelevant to me.

Ax quickly found a local manager, paid the processing fee, and set up a booth to recruit talent, posting his needs.

Soon, several job seekers surrounded him, vying to introduce themselves.

"I worked at the Royal Factory for five years and I'm familiar with all the machinery!" A middle-aged man puffed out his chest, trying to appear professional. His clothes were neat but clearly old, and his fingers bore calluses from years of labor.

Ax nodded. "Sounds good. Are you familiar with the workshop's day-to-day operations and management?"

"I'm an expert in accounting and can double your workshop's profits!" At that moment, another young man excitedly interjected, wearing a pair of worn-out glasses and trying to project an intellectual image.

Angel's face scrunched up more and more. She quietly tugged at X's sleeve and whispered, "Master, I feel like he's lying."

AX looked at the young man thoughtfully and continued, "So, how do you handle the relationship between the workshop and its customers?"

The young man was clearly flustered: "Uh... it's just... treating customers well?"

Ax neither nodded nor shook his head.

The third applicant was a well-dressed middle-aged woman who gave an elegant bow: "Sir, I have served as a butler in several aristocratic families and am skilled in organization, coordination, and personnel management."

Axe became interested in her: "You sound very experienced. What are your thoughts on the relationship between the workshop and high society?"

The woman smiled and replied, "The workshop should maintain a proper distance, satisfying the needs of the nobles without being overly obsequious. After all, true nobles appreciate quality, not flattery."

Angel finally couldn't help but tug at X's sleeve: "Master, I don't like them." She said softly, her blue eyes flashing with dissatisfaction, "I feel like they're not telling the truth."

Ax nodded.

Whether they were telling the truth or not was irrelevant, and Ax didn't believe Angel could truly discern the truthfulness of language.

But it's clear that Angel doesn't like them, which is a big problem. They'll just have to replace them; Ex isn't in a hurry. After all, his own maid is more important.