Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Charlotte then opened her eyes.

She was probably awake, or perhaps it couldn't be called awake, because sleep wasn't a regular pattern for this body. Even after a day of running around and walking, drowsiness hadn't managed to weigh down her eyelashes or send any physiological signals.

But her brain reminded the girl that it was a past habit, a rule that should be followed, so she fell asleep.

Like a timed alarm clock, as soon as you open and close your eyes, the distant clock tower rings out six times, and nearby you hear the chirping of birds.

Daylight had broken, and early risers wrapped themselves tightly in their smocks and hurriedly stepped into the streets and alleys, trembling as they began their day's work—this was the norm.

After tying the drawstring of her inner lining and putting on a black trench coat, she left her waistband and trousers untied, her lower body exposed, and walked to the brightly lit window.

She pulled back the curtains, opened the window, crossed her arms, lowered her head, and lay prone on the outward-extending windowsill, letting the soft flesh of her cheeks leave slight indentations, and letting her fair legs leap and dance.

Bathing in the morning breeze, dispelling the grogginess of waking up, is also her habit. Perhaps, in the past, she would also light a cigarette to feel slightly tipsy.

Goose feathers fell from the sky, one of them landing right on the corner of her eye, turning into a trembling droplet on her eyelashes. Feeling the coolness, the girl squinted her eyes and smiled softly.

It's very real, and she likes it.

She slumped to her feet, yawned, wiped the tears from her eyes, put on her trousers and a round felt hat, and thus bid farewell to her morning leisure.

Unfortunately, busy Miss Watson always has important matters to attend to. First, she definitely has to go to the office in the morning, not only to keep her appointment with Sophie, but also to report the case's development to Singh. Second, she also needs to squeeze in time to go to the city library to thoroughly study modern history and understand the origin and meaning of those few lines of text.

Well, thinking about it this way, although it's not exactly a complete mess, it seems that the only time left for free exploration is at night. Even if she doesn't mind the silence of the night, the dim light and stuffy air will probably dampen her enthusiasm.

Oh, what a pity for such a beautiful girl, having to work so hard for me, running around in dirty streets and alleys all day long.

After secretly wiping away her tears and condemning Miss O'Shaw, who was imprisoned, the girl began to pay attention to her appearance again.

Her hair was smooth and her skin was flawless, showing no signs of hard work; one could tell at a glance that she was a pampered young lady.

Straightening the boutonniere on her chest and straightening her graceful figure, Charlotte naturally exuded elegance and nobility. Before leaving, she paused for a moment in front of the mirror.

She wasn't too concerned about appearance; she was more interested in observing whether her performance was up to par, and the answer undoubtedly satisfied her.

From any perspective, Josephine Watson was an impeccable noblewoman, embodying the demeanor of a lady.

That's so me!

Picking up her cane and carrying her suitcase, Charlotte left the room with her head held high and her chest out.

Last night, as darkness deepened, she didn't spend too long choosing a hotel and simply picked one nearby and went inside.

It was obvious that it was not high-end. The interior was sparsely furnished, and the long, narrow corridor leading out was filled with closed doors. Old-fashioned kerosene lamps hung from the ceiling, their light dim and yellowish, not even as bright as the morning light streaming in through the window at the end.

Silently reciting the order of the chandeliers, after experiencing the interplay of light and shadow, a folding downward staircase appeared in front of Charlotte.

Squeak.

The high-top leather boots landed on the wooden steps with a soft, dripping sound, and a faint fragrance wafted into the girl's nostrils. Before long, the scene at the bottom came into view.

Compared to the second floor and the bedroom, the first floor, which serves as the facade, is indeed much more exquisite, but also much smaller, just a narrow little area.

The lobby was carpeted and furnished with tables and chairs for guests to sit on, while the corners on both sides were filled with bright and eye-catching flowers.

A small incense burner is quietly emitting a pleasant fragrance in the corner.

"Miss Josephine, I wonder how you slept yesterday?"

A deep voice came from the front desk; it belonged to an elderly man, and the keychains hanging behind him indicated that he was the hotel's doorman.

Of course, Charlotte didn't recognize the former, but fortunately, the other person had a small name tag pinned to his chest, which prevented Charlotte from being embarrassed by not knowing his name.

"Mr. Russell, thank you for taking care of me. I had a good night, which was just right."

"That's good. However, a beautiful lady like you shouldn't go out at this time. There are quite a few uncouth people around here, mostly country bumpkins who don't understand the concept of elegance. It would be quite unfortunate if they disturbed your enjoyment."

“It’s alright, Mr. Russell. I am not a weak woman who knows nothing, nor will I be easily trapped.”

With a slight bow and a somewhat haughty tone, Charlotte calmly offered her humble words.

"But thank you for reminding me. I never thought I would have the honor of meeting such a thoughtful gentleman as you here."

Her keen observation had already made her realize that this doorman was different. He stood very straight and his demeanor was calm yet elegant, indicating that he had received some etiquette training.

Just as he had expected, Rosell was clearly flattered and said repeatedly.

“You flatter me. I only served as a servant to a lord for a few years when I was young, so I know a bit about humility. I am not worthy of your praise.”

In both demeanor and attire, Charlotte was just like a true noblewoman.

Therefore, the former straightened his back as much as possible. Although he was being modest, the look in his eyes clearly showed how pleased he was with the girl's praise.

“Miss Josephine, I wonder how long you will be staying here? If needed, I can arrange for you to have a sunny room. It will only cost twenty soles more than usual, which should be negligible for you.”

"...No need, I probably won't be staying here for long, and I won't trouble you to move your luggage."

Charlotte declined the gentleman's offer of hospitality, seemingly out of kindness. Her words were full of concern for the elderly man's health and well-being.

Unfortunately, twenty sulphurs is indeed not much, but it is quite worth mentioning for young girls today.

She deeply regrets her past extravagance. While yesterday's lavish spending may have brought her a sense of luxury, today's financial difficulties have left her struggling in every aspect of life.

After leaving the hotel, Charlotte took a cheap public train, and after her little bottom was almost shaken raw, she finally arrived in the city center, feeling utterly miserable.

Following the old signpost forward, after walking for a while, the simple sign of Singh's firm came into view.

Pushing open the door, the neat and tidy interior layout remained unchanged, but the tall, thin man was not at the front desk reading the newspaper as before.

Following the line of sight inward, the open door denied the possibility of closure, and the rustling sound confirmed the presence of people.

Charlotte only realized that her employer was lying on a sofa, enjoying a rather lavish breakfast, when a muffled greeting approached.

"Good morning, Ms. Watson. Would you like to have something to eat with me?"

Holding up the fragrant bacon with a fork, perhaps recognizing a familiar face, the old detective appeared languid and casual, utterly lacking any gentlemanly demeanor.

As mentioned earlier, there were two breakfasts on the table. The one in front of Singh was almost empty, while the other was still full, with toast, bacon, fried eggs, and half a tomato. There was also a cup of black tea next to the plate.

"This was prepared for me? That's really touching."

Charlotte sat down diagonally opposite the former, her words tinged with surprise; she had never imagined that the firm would be so considerate as to prepare breakfast for its employees.

Indeed, that was the case, Singh admitted without hesitation, shrugging his shoulders.

"No, this is for the guest, but she doesn't need this breakfast for now, so you can enjoy the still warm food."

Freebies? Great!

Upon receiving the plate, Charlotte's fondness for the guest soared thanks to this unexpected treat.

Only after taking a bite of the fried egg did she belatedly ask the question.

"guest?"

"Yes, it's about entrusting this series of cases to my benefactor."

The old detective spoke with utmost respect, and following his gaze, the young girl caught a glimpse of the elegant woman holding a black umbrella in a corner of the foyer.

She was about twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old, with a slender and tall figure. Her short, dark hair only reached her neck, leaving most of her face pale and haggard.

From top to bottom, one can see the cool-colored gauze skirt tightly wrapped around the waist, cinching the figure and highlighting the beautiful bust and graceful curves. The only flaw is that the floor-length skirt covers the legs, making her less charming and more desolate.

Raising her slender fingers covered by black veil, seemingly unmoved by the gazes from near and far, she simply turned the pages of the book in her palm, as if silently telling a story.

Unlike a pampered noblewoman, this beautiful woman resembled a monk announcing an obituary.

Chapter Sixteen Crossing the Threshold

Should I say hello to her?

Charlotte took a small bite of the bacon, savoring its crispness and tenderness, and enjoying its perfectly balanced richness. Her brows relaxed involuntarily.

Enjoying delicious food always brings joy, and free things add even more to the experience.

"If you're willing, of course you can, but I've already spoken to this lady about you."

"uh-huh?"

With a soft snort, the girl expressed her dissatisfaction, and her gaze immediately sharpened. Clearly, she was demanding an explanation from the old detective.

Charlotte never liked others making decisions for her. After all, other people's descriptions often determine the first impression, and once a stereotype is formed, it becomes extremely difficult to change it.

And since Singh called her a VIP, this beautiful lady must have a high social standing, so she didn't want to ruin the goodwill of a major client.

"Don't worry, I'm acting as an assistant. Besides, the description I gave should be quite accurate."

Seeing the angry yet fierce look in his eyes, Singh chuckled twice, deliberately drawing out the last syllable.

"A thoughtful, sensible, and well-mannered lady."

"Ah."

Stuffing in half a slice of bread, puffing out his cheeks like a hamster, Charlotte nodded slightly, sincerely acknowledging the former's praise.

The speed at which they changed their tune was astonishing.

As expected of my employer, he has such insight to hire such an excellent employee as himself.

With knives and forks, they cut and passed the food around, exchanging few words. They quietly enjoyed their breakfast before finally starting their conversation.

"Mr. Singh, what are your specific plans for today?"

"That missing person case remains the top priority. In fact, just last night, the old detective from the police station shared part of the case file with me. Unfortunately, even with many new clues, I still haven't been able to figure out the most important details."

With a sigh, a rare look of frustration appeared on the old detective's face.

"To be honest, I feel a little ashamed. After you mentioned those mysterious abilities that writers have fabricated, Ms. Watson, I felt a sense of compromise. It was as if I could just attribute them to the unknown and cover up my powerlessness."

"The time of disappearance, the scene of the first crime, even the most basic information can only provide a general outline. Trying to deduce the details step by step by using the victim's identity and special skills is just empty talk."

Charlotte wasn't too surprised by Singh's words, which were half helpless and half guilty.

The killer's profile is too generic; anyone running around the port area could be a suspect. When dense populations are combined with chaotic order, this broad-based investigation has almost no chance of finding the real culprit.

However, the police station is, after all, a government department. In a world that seems to have fantastical abilities, surely there are no unconventional clues for investigating cases?

She picked up a napkin, wiped her lips, and aptly summarized her opening remarks, thus setting the stage for what she would say next.

“Unusual phenomena can always provide clues, while cases without any distinguishing features are difficult to solve. Mr. Singh, would you mind if I accepted a commission from someone else outside of my work?”

"Of course not. As long as it doesn't affect normal business, I think anyone would be happy to accept the extra subsidy."

Singer nodded with a smile. He didn't care about borrowing the title; Watson had the ability, and he was at ease with it.

As expected, working together is about compatibility, not just ability. When the old detective placed his trust in her, the girl reciprocated.

"Well then, you're very lucky; your assistant has secured a great deal for you on the very first day."

With her chin slightly raised and her fair neck partially exposed, Charlotte's tone was light and cheerful, like a nightingale leaping onto a branch.

This lively and cheerful voice immediately eased the old detective's slightly downcast mood, and naturally aroused his anticipation.

"Then tell me in detail."

That being said, Singh didn't take the girl's good intentions seriously, but simply assumed that the young woman was trying to tell him something amusing to comfort him.

"Of course, it's my duty."

She raised her fingers one by one, showing three. The front hall of the agency was quite spacious, but when the girl pursed her lips and spoke calmly, her voice resonated in her ears like a thunderclap.

"A new victim, a sketch of the killer, evidence that the serial killings will continue—is that enough?"

The three examples, arranged in parallel, vividly depict the old detective's changing expressions, from initial confusion to subsequent astonishment, and finally to ultimate surprise.

“Last night, out of a sense of professionalism, I ran into a young woman who was helping out near the crime scene. She told me about her sister’s disappearance. After considering the time, place, and the age of the person involved, I was certain that this was a case that matched.”

Without revealing the whole truth, Charlotte didn't mind embellishing her actions a bit more, as long as the topic was aligned with hers.

“Mr. Singh, this new disappearance happened three days ago, and I think it clearly tells us a trend.”

"The case of the missing girl is not over yet, and the suspect may continue to commit crimes."

They responded almost in unison, the only difference being that Singh's expression was slightly excited, while the girl's expression was more indifferent.

"It seems I'm getting old; I'm not as nimble as you young people anymore."

Overjoyed, the old detective laid down his pipe and chuckled as he cracked a joke.

"Tell me, how did you get to this point?"

"Sir, look, they're in a hurry again."

Looking at the clock on the floor and checking the time, Charlotte knew that the peacock should already be on its way, and she wouldn't need to waste any more words explaining it.

"It's almost time. The person in charge of this matter will be coming to the agency soon. Perhaps she's someone you've met before."