Unable to repay my student loans, I had no choice but to work part-time as a demon hunter.

Chapter 139 What I Really Want to Do

it is good!

Gordon is very content now.

"It's so dirty, I'm going to get yelled at to death!"

"It's alright, I'll handle it."

Charlotte leaned back.

Her face was flushed, and she didn't know why she was like that.

Think about it carefully —

A mixture of embarrassment, smugness, curiosity, and a little bit of a sense of victory.

As the eldest daughter of the Montfort family, having just received the Summer Crown and the Perfect Potion, she should naturally adopt an elegant, perfect, and unapproachable demeanor.

But then she did this strange thing.

Even worse—

She actually thought she was amazing, that if she dared to do something like this, what else was there to be afraid of?

From then on, she could decide for herself what was prescribed by others and what she wanted to do.

"So, what was that just now?" Gordon asked.

Consider this my health check-up for you.

"Thank you for your hospitality," Gordon said gratefully as he tidied up.

"Do you think you won't get beaten up today?"

"I call it a necessary research risk." Gordon got out of bed. "I can't stay here overnight, or the Earl will beat me to a pulp."

"Yes, of course. Goodnight, Gordon." Charlotte waved slightly.

"Good night." Gordon walked to the door, then immediately turned back. "Remember to take notes with your abilities; your abilities aren't fully stable yet."

You must frequently engage in deep thinking, switching your small models to reasoning models, in order to become one of the world's top extraordinary individuals.

"That's too much trouble."

"This is a very scientific training method. First, use your abilities to turn your little brain into a super brain, and learn while it's still hot. After the effect wears off, leave the notes for the ordinary Charlotte to read. That way, the super Charlotte can carry the ordinary Charlotte, and the ordinary Charlotte can then summon the super Charlotte, eventually overwhelming her with knowledge—"

"Go away, there aren't that many of me." Charlotte waved her hand. "And take everything you left behind. My room can't have this smell."

"Okay, okay. When is the next time?" Gordon confiscated the little Gordon that was wandering around everywhere.

"There won't be a next time." Charlotte threw the pillow at Gordon, who nimbly dodged it and slipped out the door silently.

Charlotte turned around, and the smell in the room had faded a bit.

This was the first time she had subdued Gao Gen.

I will never forget this magical night.

The next morning, in the Montfort family's breakfast room.

The Earl of Montfort, dressed in a grey tuxedo, sat at the head of the long table, reading a newspaper.

Vera sat at the table with three empty plates already piled up in front of her. The maids brought up the fourth serving of roast beef.

The count was in a good mood.

Vera's arrival meant Gordon was leaving, and he was already tired of the overly intimate relationship between Charlotte and Gordon.

"What a pity, Gordon, you should have stayed here a few more days," said the Earl of Montfort. "We would very much like to have you stay here for an extended period."

"The outside world needs me, and I need the outside world too." Gordon shrugged and ate a large fried egg.

"Yes, that's how it should be. Young people should be busy. It's not too late to seek comfort when I'm this age." Earl Montfort turned another page of the newspaper, which was still reporting on Gordon. These people should have chosen to write about more meaningful things.

After breakfast, Charlotte escorted Gordon to the front door.

The streets outside still retained the damp sheen left by the torrential rain, and puddles gushed into the drains.

Charlotte stood on the steps, reached out to straighten Gordon's trench coat collar, and then turned to Vera.

Promise me you'll protect him.

"If we are in mortal danger, he won't be the first to die," Vera promised.

"If possible, I hope everyone can live well—" Gordon raised his hand.

"And you, don't always overwork yourself. Remember to rest and be careful. You're not an ordinary person anymore," Charlotte earnestly advised.

"Okay, I completely agree."

"Then I'll continue organizing those invitations and requests, and draft a well-phrased reply for you." Charlotte crossed her arms. "We're in this together, and I'll gradually let everyone know about this."

"Got it, my academic partner."

"Let's change how you address me," Charlotte said with a smile.

"Baby."

"Come back soon." Charlotte was finally satisfied, walked over, and kissed Gordon on the cheek.

Vera watched for a while, then looked away.

"Good buddy, let's go." Gordon mounted his raging horse and rode away from the Monford mansion.

They walked along the quiet Golden Lion Avenue in the morning. Vera walked beside him, straight and sharp, her youthful and warm aura from Charlotte gradually dissipating in the wind.

"Aren't you feeling unwell?"

"Huh?" Gordon turned his head.

"Leave that place."

Gordon glanced back.

As the spire of the Montfort mansion recedes into the distance, exquisite curtains still hang behind countless rows of windows, exuding elegance, expense, and luxury.

He certainly liked it—the soft bed, the delicious breakfast, and the way Charlotte smiled in the light.

"It's very comfortable and peaceful there, but staying too long can wear down one's ambition. I can't be too comfortable, and I won't feel at ease living in someone else's house." Gordon took a deep breath to clear his mind.

Born in hardship, die in comfort —

By the end of the morning, Gordon had completed several tasks.

He registered the company, Highman, and the warehouse on Highburn Avenue was renamed Vic Warehouse No. 1, entering the handover process. The location was near Central Union Station and the military barracks, a vast area with convenient logistics. Gordon planned to keep a third for himself and rent the rest to a businessman.

In addition, he wrote to the FitzRoy family to thank them for the gift and formally requested source material equipment, prioritizing equipment that could enhance protection, evasion, or stealth.

Back at 9 Knight Road, Gordon posted the stamped company registration documents on the first-floor wall.

[Company registration certificate. When starting a business, it's best to take a thorough look around first.]

This house has two functions.

"From today onwards, this will be the temporary headquarters of the Highman Corporation and the Carteret Demon Hunter Agency, the embryo of Lundenim's future business miracle," Gordon announced triumphantly.

Vera turned her back to the door and glanced at the street outside.

"Number 9 Knight Road was under surveillance yesterday. That's why I came to find you, worried about your safety."

"That sounds terrifying. Who?"

"have no idea."

"Didn't you notice?"

"I can't sense it. The other person is also a stealth user."

Gordon tapped the ground with his Blackthorn Lee cane.

The vibrations from the probe spread in all directions, and the structure of the entire building and the surrounding streets took shape in my mind.

There are no suspicious people at the moment, but as Vera said, something had indeed been spying on this place before, and since Vera couldn't catch it, the other party must be at least a minor expert.

"It's roughly in that direction." Vera pointed to the laundry house diagonally opposite, next to which was a small alley.

Gordon went over to observe.

[The wall. Someone leaned against it, but the wall dared not say anything.]

Gordon observed. He vaguely sensed a lingering feeling of being watched, which sent a chill down his spine.

There were no scratches on the walls, no footprints on the ground, and the steam and alkaline smell of the laundry could mask the smell of breathing.

"Can you smell it?"

"A very faint, subtle scent of clothing. I can only identify the person if they are very close to me. There's no way to track them now."

"There's a small chance he's just bored; most likely he's trying to kidnap me. They've been buying and selling information about me lately, and I haven't even taken a cut—that's very un-market-oriented."

"Danger." Vera placed her hand on the hilt of her sword. "What's next?"

"We need to upgrade security. Would you mind if Eve moved to the first floor?"

"she?"

"After the establishment of the company, she is now my assistant, that is, my secretary. She might also be happy to move to a place where she doesn't have to pay 2 silver pounds a day for room and board, as long as the few private clinics left by the dentist are combined together."

"rational."

"She's capable, and she keeps the lights on all night. If someone attacks, three people fighting is better than two."

"We'll disturb her."

"So we need to keep things quiet."

"Is it you or me?"

"We want them all." Gordon turned his head.

Vera looked toward the spot where the infiltrators had once hidden.

Given her level of repression, she was originally about to pounce on Gordon immediately and confirm his allegiance to her through direct contact. But this matter bothered her greatly.

In the past, those who scouted No. 9 Knight Road were all fishmen, whom she could easily kill; it was simply a matter of dealing with river creatures with legs.

This time is different.

The other party is a genuine ability user, knowing how to lurk in the shadows. In that case, she really can't let her guard down and allow them to act recklessly; at least when they do, someone needs to keep watch.

"Okay," Vera agreed. "Safety first. Eve is bad, but that's okay too."

"Well then, next I need to go to the Department of Extraterrestrial Affairs to talk to my stone friend about safety. Besides, it seems he's the only one in the world who can recreate a person from nothingness." Gordon picked up his cane and strode forward.

17 Blackstone Road, Old Town of Lundenim, Headquarters of the Department of Otherworldly Affairs.

This is a six-story gray-black stone building, just two streets away from the Imperial Supreme Court on Strand Road. Cases are often resolved here and judgments are delivered there.

Gordon had changed out of his overly extravagant black tuxedo and into an investigator's coat. The people coming and going on the stairs were mostly other investigators, hurrying along and looking professional and efficient.

He stepped across the lobby and showed his trainee investigator badge, while Vera showed her hunter's license.

"True Crimson Alchemist—" The receptionist's gaze towards Gordon changed noticeably as she greeted him.

Gordon enjoyed the attention.

His title is more useful than the trainee investigator badge.

Upon arriving at room 417 on the fourth floor, several nameplates were posted on the door of Martin's office.

Martin Hott, Investigator

"Accident cordon, scene reconstruction, pollution investigation"

The nameplate speaks more than its owner.

Gordon knocked on the door, and Martin calmly said, "Come in."

The office was small, about 25 square meters. On the left was a row of filing cabinets, and on the right was a map of Lundnium, covered with markings.

Dalio photographs and hand-drawn sketches.

Gordon pulled over a visitor's chair for Vera, and Martin looked up from behind a pile of files, his expression unchanged from last week, months ago, and into the future.

"Martin! Martin, Martin. The amazing Martin," Gordon called out to him. "Don't tell me you haven't read the newspaper."

"I've seen it."

"So what's your impression of the Crimson Alchemist Gordon?"

"Know."

"Didn't you feel any vibration at all?"

"Yes. I've filed the relevant clippings."

"this one?"

"Congratulations."

"This is too perfunctory," Gordon questioned. "I'm going to request a change of boss."

"What kind?"

"Someone who can laugh, provides emotional value, and preferably has a different gender than me."

"Haha." Martin's tone was flat. "Now let's get down to business."

Gordon mentioned that Knight Road No. 9 was being monitored by an ability user, and subtly implied that as an important strategic asset of the Empire, he should receive 24-hour close protection.

He needs an army, bodyguards with special abilities, and preferably a few maids who can serve hot tea and towels.

"Maids do not fall under the category of state services," Martin analyzed seriously.

"The rest is always right."

"The agency will assess the relevant risks," Martin concluded.

"At least you have to help me reconstruct the scene using your abilities. I at least want to see what the other person looks like, whether they are male or female, tall or short, fat or thin."

"I need relevant physical tissues from the people involved as a medium. If I were to reconstruct the scene from scratch, I could only do so step by step, restoring everything from the past. Just looking at it would take a day and a half."

"That's worth it. Think about it, Martin. He went to great lengths to sneak around, only to be caught by you going against the flow of time! How amazing."

We will thus catch a villain who is hostile to the pillars of the nation.

"If you continue to achieve great things, I can help you."

"Your system is not friendly to talented people at all."

"We'll see. There have indeed been new anomalies recently, the Crimson Alchemist," you're actually not far from your next opportunity to prove yourself.

Far."

Ma carefully took a sealed glass jar from under the table.

The light within the sample suddenly surged, composed of countless tiny images tearing at each other—crimson, indigo, and purplish-black—

Gordon glanced at it, and a colorful shadow quickly clouded his vision.

[Unidentified colored water sample. The colors are very varied, like a cocktail, but it's not recommended to drink it.]

"Next time you show me something weird, just say so." Gordon rubbed his eyes.

"How do you feel?" Martin asked.

"I guess it came from the Blackwater River."

"Yes, this colored water has appeared in the riverside area, including Blair Locks, Rand Wharf, the Iron Dome Bridge, and the Old Fish Market. It started as just floating debris, but it is very dangerous. It is said that people who come into contact with it almost melt into the water."

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