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

Gordon is determined to get his hands on that cane.

The professor specifically mentioned in his book "Introduction to Spiritual Crafts: Dominating Source Matter" that blackthorn wood is very special. Its dense structure can withstand the flow of energy, making it very suitable for conduits.

The walking stick in front of me is no ordinary object.

It looks simple to the naked eye, but the secrets are hidden in the core of the rod. The neat flow channels and the precise energy storage nodes... the person who made it is very skilled, and their craftsmanship is no less than that of Sinclair.

"How much?"

"Three gold pounds." The stall owner held up three fingers. "This is my father's inheritance."

After saying that, the stall owner looked away.

This is indeed a legacy.

Actually, it was one of the unsold items his father had when he ran a general store.

"An inheritance only proves that its previous owner died, not that it's worth three gold pounds," Gordon said skillfully, haggling. "In my opinion, this stick has at least seven or eight scratches, and the head, which is claimed to be pure silver, looks more like it's silver-plated. You say it comes from a noble family, but the only source of that information is your word."

"This is... from a nobleman..." The stall owner was instantly overwhelmed by Gordon.

"Why don't you tell me which one it is?" Charlotte smiled at him.

"Cough cough..." The stall owner hesitated.

"I can't explain it. It's obviously fake." Charlotte turned to Gordon.

"But this was originally a charity sale, and it feels good to do some charity work occasionally."

"Then three gold pounds," the stall owner said, taking advantage of the situation.

"I could talk to you about this all day. There are fourteen days of holiday for Evangelism, and I happen to have no other plans..." Gordon squatted down, clearly intending not to leave.

Vera stood beside Gordon, holding her sword.

She didn't threaten anyone, but others have started to avoid her.

The stall owner was sweating and planned to finish the transaction as soon as possible.

In the end...

  

Gordon bought it for one silver pound and twenty copper cents, which was one-fiftieth of the original price.

I made a profit!

Gordon cried out in his heart.

The stall owner's expression was complicated.

Finally, this dusty fire poker was sold.

In any case, as long as the other party doesn't return the goods, today is a good day.

"Oh dear, I've been tricked again," Charlotte lamented.

Gordon offered no explanation, content with his own situation.

Cecilia covered her mouth with her fan and continued to watch the drama unfold.

In her view, Charlotte was worried that taking the initiative would make her seem too cheap, while Gordon was focused on establishing his career before starting a family.

This will never have happened without someone giving it a push.

"Let him buy it," Cecilia said, pulling Charlotte aside and earnestly urging her to do so.

"Why should I watch him walk into the fire? What use is this stick other than hitting people?"

"That's how men are. They love adventure, and one day they'll come back to you and say, 'Sorry, I messed up. I didn't make any gold, I lost my job, I messed everything up. I'm so sorry.' At that point, you can't say, 'It's all your fault for not listening to me.' Instead, you can say, 'The hot water is ready, the food is cooked, and I'm in the bedroom.'"

"What am I doing in the bedroom?" Charlotte scratched her head.

"Guess," Cecilia smiled.

"Hey hey..." Charlotte thought for a moment and figured it might be to prepare the clothes Gordon would wear tomorrow.

Gordon gripped the Blackthorn Lee cane in his hand, turned around, and tapped the ground lightly.

thump...

The ripples spread outwards along the ground, and soon returned to the palm, entering the nerves.

He didn't open his eyes, but he could sense everyone's every move.

It was as if the entire square had become his underlings, constantly reporting problems to him.

For example, judging from the amplitude of her heartbeat and the degree of redness, Charlotte's next word would be "humph".

"Hmph." Charlotte crossed her arms. "Stop playing with that stick, let's go."

Ok, Ok.

Gordon suddenly felt much more at ease.

As for the specific application radius and effects, he will study them slowly when he gets back.

[Your cane. Tap it, and let the world echo.]

They continued walking towards the center of the square, and Gordon would tap the floor every now and then, just for fun.

As the noon bells rang, St. Duncan Square gradually filled with people.

The priests filed out, and police officers formed a human wall to clear a path for the procession. Girls from the church school began selling flowers and candles, trying to raise funds. Meanwhile, homeless people, looking for a free meal, began raiding the charity teahouse.

The reporters were the busiest; they picked out a few pretty orphans and had them stand with the almsgivers for a daguerreotype photo.

Charity requires love, but it also needs vision.

"...Ah, the stage." Gordon looked up.

In the center of the square was a temporary stage, with a wooden curtain wall covered with dark black velvet and silver ribbons hanging from both the front and back, creating a very solemn atmosphere.

Musicians lined up on both sides: a violinist was tuning his instrument, a harpist was playing, and a pianist was looking down at his sheet music.

And... they were all young women.

Girl bands are great!

"Where did this band come from?" Charlotte asked curiously.

"From Green Field Mansion," Cecilia said.

"Oh?" Charlotte's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

"Every time I try to drag you to a show, you always say you have something to do." Cecilia rolled her eyes at Charlotte. "Before, it was school, homework, Dad, and lately Gordon has been busy too."

Charlotte stuck out her tongue.

Green Garden Mansion. Gao Deng pondered.

Olivia's businesses.

Meanwhile, her girls are putting on a key performance in St. Duncan Square.

The fact that she was able to handle this kind of occasion shows that she is far more than just the woman who runs Green Garden Mansion and underground casinos; she also has enough connections within the city's system.

If Olivia were truly a member of the Secret Order, she would at least be a mid-level leader. While she was speaking, Harold was probably listening below, and Octopus Face was guarding the door outside.

They continued onward.

The gentlemen and ladies greeted them.

Most people recognize Charlotte Monford and Cecilia FitzRoy.

The Monford family was an old aristocratic family with a relatively traditional asset structure, so poor that all they had left were vast tracts of fertile land and numerous estates.

The FitzRoy family has many connections within the Navy, and no one wants to offend them easily.

As for Gordon...

They were obviously random passersby.

Vera acted as a bodyguard for the two noblewomen. No one asked questions, for her black sword seemed to dislike answering them.

Then, a row of dancers walked onto the stage.

They all wore long black and white dresses, symbolizing chastity, and corsets; they were young, beautiful, and well-trained.

Upon reaching their designated positions, they uniformly curtsied to everyone.

"Oh!"

"Very good!"

"Girls...!" Everyone loves to look at beautiful women.

Then, a special girl came up.

Her appearance sparked an even more enthusiastic cheer.

She wore a pale green dress, had black hair, and wore a pearl necklace.

[Pearl necklace. Each pearl comes from an offended oyster shell.]

[A long dress. Its color overlaps with a memory of yours.]

For some reason, Gordon thought of the mermaid who appeared after the pump station incident.

She also had long black hair, and her body was covered with seaweed and colorful fish scales.

The green-clad singer's demeanor was remarkably similar to that of the Little Mermaid. The only difference was that she couldn't see the ball.

"What's her name?" Gordon asked Cecilia.

"Ellen Brundell," Cecilia said softly, "the lead singer of Green House, a singer."

"Olivia's daughter?"

"No, the girls at Green Garden Mansion all take the mistress's surname," Cecilia explained.

Gordon looked towards the stage. Olivia had done an incredibly meticulous job, providing people with places to live, jobs, and even surnames.

Eileen's gaze swept across the crowd, her expression impeccable, and she smiled.

Then, the music started, and she began to sing.

what……

The moment the first note was heard, everyone was completely captivated.

sounds so good.

The mermaid sang at the pumping station that day, and her song reminded him of the ocean and the abyss.

Ellen's singing voice is more like the sound of a clear spring.

She clearly has a unique vocal technique, with each syllable clear and smooth.

"Um……"

"What?" Vera asked.

"It reminds me of the pump station stuff, the guy who crawled out," Gordon said in a low voice.

"A mermaid?" Vera observed for five seconds and concluded, "Impossible, the two are unrelated."

"How did you figure that out?"

"She has legs."

"Never mind, I didn't ask."

On stage, Ellen continued to sing.

The singing wasn't loud, but it drowned out all the noise in the square, and the audience gradually quieted down.

Gordon continued to listen.

For some reason, he felt that Ellen wasn't "putting her heart into it".

When the song reached its sorrowful and melancholic parts, she showed no trace of resentment. Similarly, when the verses were meant to be uplifting and uplifting, she displayed no passionate emotion.

Performing purely for the sake of performing.

Judging solely from the effect, it deserves full marks. However, the person singing behind the scenes seems completely absorbed in the music.

Furthermore, there were no loudspeakers in this era, and her volume shouldn't have been able to cover such a vast area.

Gordon examined the vibrations in the air.

The musicians' playing was clearly discernible.

Ellen's singing voice is unique; it seems to penetrate directly into the listener's consciousness.

……

Meanwhile, on the other side...

Olivia Brundl listens to her daughters perform on stage from the balcony high up in the cathedral.

She wore an ivory-white silk dress adorned with hand embroidery, a corset that cinched her waist tightly, and a large bodice above her waist. Both her hands were covered in lace gloves.

The organizers of the charity sale for Relief Day reported this to her.

The total amount raised in this round has reached £2400.

Olivia spoke a few words softly, dictating their path.

Every penny allocated will be paid; widows will receive subsidies, orphans will receive bread, and the elderly, weak, and disabled will also receive care.

Those aid organizations, shelters, and orphanages will remember the name Green Garden Mansion from now on.

After the report, Olivia dismissed everyone around her.

Suddenly, her gaze fell upon someone in the crowd.

A cheap jacket, a college student look, and now he's got a cane.

"Ah..." she recalled Harold's portrait, "His eyes were even deeper than in the portrait."

In the shadow of the balcony pillar stood a tall, mixed-race man wearing a half-face mask. He was muscular, exuded a cold aura, and his expression beneath the mask was particularly bloodthirsty, like that of a crocodile.

"Kill him?" the mixed-race man asked. "A college student, very thin, looks like an easy target."

"He is accompanied by the earl's daughter, the duke's daughter, and a huntress. If you only see him, sending you there will be a waste of time."

"Tsk."

"Besides, today is Holy Day," Olivia said with a hint of gentle reproach. "Dead bodies will affect the afternoon's fundraising."

"I understand. But it would be a shame to let him go."

"Let's proceed according to the list first," Olivia said, stroking the ring on her hand. "Once those names disappear into the water one by one, it will naturally be his turn."