Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

There was nothing to refute. Although Watson's words were exaggerated, they were also based on facts and were well-founded. Moreover, he had even proactively provided this information to the other party.

Is this a case of shooting oneself in the foot? It seems we should be more wary of this fickle lady in the future.

“I’m just telling the truth, Mr. Singh.”

Charlotte opened her right hand, revealing the red-haired girl seated beside her, and smiled graciously.

“Sophie, my friend, is there no need for further introductions to you, sir?”

Upon hearing this claim, Su Fubi's thin lips twitched a few times, and a complex glint flashed in her eyes.

The word "friend" has become quite distant for her. In the past, she was arrogant and looked down on everyone, regarding those vulgar rich girls as nothing. Now, she is mired in the mire, yet she cannot find a sincere friendship.

No matter how Watson treated her, whether teasing or joking, one thing was undeniable: this fluttering figure genuinely cared about her and was trying to help her in her best interests.

This is more genuine than superficial words, more genuine than any pretense, so she was unsettled and didn't understand.

She couldn't understand why, despite having offended Watson, the latter would disregard past grievances and even selflessly offer help when she was at her most helpless.

"No need. I just received her resume yesterday, and I even conducted a proper interview with her."

With a short sigh, the old detective put down his pipe, clasped his hands together, and looked down at the two men.

Even though it was said in jest, it was clearly a reminder to set aside the leisurely atmosphere and get down to business.

Seeing this, Charlotte stopped joking and frowned solemnly, restoring her composure to her face.

“Since you know, I’ll be frank. Miss Sophie’s sister, Samuel, disappeared in the port area three days ago, vanishing without a trace in the same way.”

With concise rhetoric, the young girl's fingers danced across the table, tapping lightly to create a slow and melodious sound.

"Just like the reports of that series of cases, no one has seen her since then."

"So, what do you think, Ms. Watson?"

Without echoing the opening statement, Singh deliberately threw the question back at Charlotte, which suited Charlotte's wishes perfectly.

She glanced at Sufby furtively and saw her clutching the hem of her skirt, her eyes filled with tension and a worried look on her face. The girl couldn't help but smile knowingly, then frowned and said in a firm and stern voice.

"Of course! Merging similar cases, we'll treat them as the work of the same person and classify them as part of the serial disappearances we're currently investigating, giving them top priority!"

Previously, during their chance encounter at the restaurant, this young lady clearly wanted to ask me to seek help from the old detective. Now, I might as well make the request myself, and of course, it wouldn't be wrong to highlight my own subjectivity in the process, right?

Really, just a tiny bit.

The words faded, but their lingering resonance remained.

Staring blankly at the girl who spoke so sternly, Su Fubi's bright red eyes widened slightly, then she covered her lips, trying to suppress the surging emotions in her heart.

The reason she participated in the interview before was to get the help of Detective Singh. Now, this target, who should have been waiting and still needed to be tested, has been easily put on the schedule by the former, like a light feather.

As a result, her eyes reddened slightly, her pupils became watery, and astonishment, confusion, and longing intertwined in her heart.

Finally, I can't help but feel grateful.

"Based on your description, this is indeed a highly consistent modus operandi, and it is reasonable to classify that girl as the fourteenth victim."

With a slight nod, and a solemn admission, Singh acknowledged that even with the changes in the circumstances, he was unwilling to back down or neglect this life-or-death case.

Witnessing too many tragic events can lead to numbness, and if even this sensitivity is lost, then one can no longer be called a gentleman.

“Starting from this clue, we need to adjust the direction of our investigation. Miss Samuel comes from the Hall family, and Ms. Ksia is also a noblewoman.”

Looking sideways at Sophie, the old detective couldn't help but show a hint of apology on his face because of the things he was about to say.

"Excuse my bluntness, though it may sound a bit unfriendly, but even if the titles of noble families are stripped away, the origins of those families remain unchanged. Even if it's just a hypothetical situation, being nobles is the only thing they have in common so far."

“The more minute the details, the more important they are to pay attention to. Therefore, tomorrow’s winter tea party is still important, and the on-site inquiries in the port area should not be neglected either.”

Glancing at the clock beside him and confirming that it was nearly noon, Singh sat up, took off his coat and put it on, then put on his top hat and spoke solemnly.

“Miss Sophie, thanks to Ms. Watson’s keen insight, I have been fortunate enough to obtain new clues and broaden my thinking. Although as a detective I cannot guarantee anything, I will go to the scene to conduct an investigation and live up to your efforts and expectations.”

"Also, Ms. Watson, please try to calm this young lady down and look after her at the office. If any guests come, please help entertain them."

He didn't plan to call on his assistant. Most cases require a suitable opportunity to be solved, and it was clear that Ms. Watson, who had solved the mystery for him in just one day, was more capable of excelling in free exploration.

Most importantly, as Ms. Mossang said, this case involves secrets and goes against common sense. Perhaps he is not as perceptive as the other party in terms of thinking, but he has more experience in handling matters and preventing crises.

Girls, you can be kind and have a sense of justice, but you must always pay attention to safety.

The door opened and closed with a creak, but just before leaving, a reminder rang out, overshadowing the previous banter and touching the old detective's heart.

"Mr. Singh, please be careful."

His voice was clear and gentle, yet it carried a sense of solemnity.

Singh then lowered his hat to hide a smile before hurriedly leaving.

The cold wind from outside was once again blocked by the door, and the office immediately fell silent, with only the ticking of the grandfather clock and the soft breathing of the staff.

Without breaking the silence, Charlotte casually picked up the newspaper from the coffee table and began to flip through it lazily.

She didn't speak, and the red-haired girl didn't utter a sound either, just staring intently at the other person, her inner turmoil growing ever more awkward.

Until, unable to suppress the pent-up confusion any longer, they had no choice but to open up the conversation by talking about other things.

"Is there anything important in the newspaper?"

"Of course, Sophie, as a detective, a newspaper is an invaluable tool as long as you know how to use it."

With her fingers spread and eyelashes lowered, Charlotte smiled and extended her hand to Sophomore.

"Come on, give me your hand, I'll teach you."

While she was asking a question, she had already naturally covered the girl's wrist with her knuckles, pressing down with her fingers to let her body heat transfer and her fingertips brush against the newspaper, making a soft rustling sound.

"From this perspective, the recent adjustments to the Grain Act, coupled with the harvest issues on the public's side, reveal the basis upon which those judges made the amendments..."

The girl's tone was calm and slightly deep, and when she looked at the pretty face so close to her, for some reason, Sophie's anxiety gradually subsided.

After a long while, when the touch and caress between her fingers ceased, she murmured with a sense of loss.

"That's not that important. What I want to ask is, why, Josephine, did you help me so much—"

"Shh, it doesn't matter. I remember it perfectly clearly. You said you wanted to become a detective's assistant legitimately through your own performance. That's why I'm personally guiding you like this."

Charlotte raised a finger to her lips and denied it without hesitation, then raised her eyebrows and stared at the former with unbiased eyes, as if scrutinizing her.

"Besides, you've forgotten how to address me again, Sophoby."

Chapter Twenty-Three: Life is Fleeting (Fifth Update)

"Miss Watson."

"Ok?"

It was a soft hum of doubt.

Following the sound, one could see a silver-haired girl sitting upright on a bamboo chair near the window, leaning slightly against the back of the chair, reading through stacks of documents. Her fingers were long and slender, with fair skin and slightly bluish knuckles. Each time she pressed her fingers against the paper and gently stroked it, a soft rustling sound was heard.

Amidst the rustling of falling snow outside and the calls of her approaching friend, she slightly raised her head, unaware that a stray strand of hair had fallen down, concealing her dazed expression and giving her an adorable, endearing look.

As instructed by Mr. Singer, Charlotte sat quietly in the lobby of the firm from noon onwards after that conversation, showing no strong desire to go out.

This isn't about being dedicated to one's job; it's just that she prioritizes things and knows she should take responsibility for the future financial well-being of her family.

Although it is somewhat boring, there are quite a few absurd events among these displayed files. Flipping through them a few times can help to broaden one's thoughts and kill some of the boring time.

For example, in a complex murder-for-hire scheme, the pay decreases layer by layer from the employer to the hired killer, until finally, the one with the lowest pay doesn't feel it's worth it and turns himself in to the police, leading to the arrest of everyone in the entire hiring chain.

Of course, the most important thing is the peacock that accompanies her. She can't let laziness take over her mind and do something that is unbecoming of her dignity and image.

Therefore, even when they were in the same room, their interactions were exceptionally simple. You didn't speak, and she didn't make a sound. You flipped through books, while she quietly observed your appearance.

This can hardly be called tacit understanding, but it can definitely be described as harmonious.

Charlotte took out her pocket watch, opened the flip cover, and tried to check the time, but before she knew it, the watch's hands had stopped moving.

Was it damaged by a bump or knock?

It must be, probably, that morning public train ride that made me so shaky; how could such a delicate machine possibly be in good condition?

She blamed the driver relentlessly, but her expression remained unchanged. The girl turned her gaze to the window, and when she saw the sun setting in the west and the dim sunset casting its glow, she understood why Sophie had spoken.

"Miss Sophie, it's getting late. Are you planning to leave?"

“Well, I also have a short-term waitressing job at the restaurant, Miss Watson. You know, my family isn’t well-off.”

With her hands clasped together and placed on her waist, Sofby openly acknowledged her poverty, and even now, dressed in a bright red dress, that arrogance was no longer evident in her words.

Looking at it this way, this bright red peacock is much more pleasing to the eye than before. It puts on a respectable front to the outside world, but is obedient and compliant to its own devices, allowing itself to run wild.

So she went on to ask.

"How much is your weekly wage there?"

“...Sansule.”

Seeing Charlotte's undisguised gaze, the red-haired girl first pursed her lips in embarrassment, then, as if in despair, she spoke frankly, as if questioning the girl.

—She is so poor, how do you want to humiliate her?

Unexpectedly, a silver coin landed gently on the back of her palm, bringing a slightly cool sensation.

"One sol, for half a day of your time."

It was a generous coin toss.

"what?"

Startled, Sufby subconsciously raised her head and looked at the silver-haired girl in front of her.

She saw that those clear eyes held no contempt, but gazed at her intently, and that those pale lips parted slightly, exhaling a warm, moist breath.

With this, the filthy, chaotic, and wildly imaginative thoughts naturally crumbled.

"Don't worry, it won't be an embarrassing request. I just need you to do me a favor as an artist."

"This should earn you more than you would at a restaurant; it's a perfectly reasonable employment relationship."

Charlotte wasn't deliberately teasing Sophie; she genuinely needed Sophie's assistance, or rather, she needed an obedient servant who could help her.

As for the money, although he felt a little heartbroken, he had uncovered such an important clue, so why couldn't the old detective give himself an advance?

"Let's go, change our clothes, and head to the port area."

Charlotte patted the dust off her trousers, handed the small leather suitcase to the red-haired girl, and then, without saying a word, led her outside.

Huh? Staring blankly at the girl's efficient manner and seeing the suitcase fall into her hands, Sufby was unable to react for a moment.

She wanted to say that she hadn't agreed yet, but recalling the previous unconditional help, her rebellious feelings gradually faded. She couldn't refuse the other party, nor could she refuse such a generous offer.

The situation at this moment was exactly as Charlotte had imagined.

Yes, hard work is work, no matter where you are. At least, Watson never lied to himself. As an artist, Suebey was still quite confident.

To console herself, she picked up her suitcase, struggled to clear away the snow, and caught up with Charlotte.

It's no wonder the red-haired girl was weak and frail; the snow that had fallen since noon had already covered the streets, making it extremely difficult to walk through, let alone carry heavy objects.

Charlotte hadn't gone far when she lightly kicked at the snow and returned.

It wasn't because of the bad weather that she gave up on her idea; she simply flipped the sign that was currently open for business over to a sign that it was closed, and said it with conviction.

"I almost forgot about this. It's almost dusk. Mr. Singh shouldn't blame me for taking matters into my own hands, right? If he has any objections, then he's exploiting laborers!"

Charlotte took a dark black umbrella from the wooden basket by the door, unbuttoned it, and opened the canopy, letting its ink-black color stand out against the pure white world.

The soft snowflakes landed on her forehead, turning into a cool breeze. Sufby, standing a little further away, shivered. She was waiting at the crossroads for the girl to return, but it seemed the snow was intensifying. The hurried passersby were growing impatient, their voices rising in a chorus of complaints.

But when the silver-haired figure, holding a black umbrella, approached and tilted the umbrella towards itself, creating a new world for them to separate, it stopped.

"Let's go."

It was a reminder before departure.

Charlotte took the slightly heavy suitcase and handed the other person the lightweight black umbrella. She could feel the other person's knuckles shivering from the cold.

It wasn't out of concern, but my hands were so cold that I could no longer paint nimbly.

The public train whirred as usual, accompanied by a shaky, undulating ride, and soon they arrived at that familiar narrow alleyway in the harbor.

When the soles of her shoes touched the gray-white snow, and the sun was only visible on the edge, Sufby could no longer suppress her doubts and asked truthfully.

"Miss Watson, what do you intend for me to do?"