"To protect your identity, everyone at Westminster who saw you and bet on you will now refer to you as L."
Howard said, "No news about a Dragon Knight nad Constantine will leave this office. All they need to know is that Westminster has recruited a new commissioner nad L."
His gaze drifted to a certain corner of the room—the spot where the logistics departnt was listening in.
"Bet on ?"
Baron latched onto the keyword. ’The Deputy Director really is sothing else,’ he thought. ’He even knows that Jack placed a bet.’
Howard cleared his throat. "Don’t worry about the details. Your main priority right now is to evade the Law Enforcent Organization’s pursuit and clear your na.
So, do you have any leads on how to do that?"
Speaking of business, Baron didn’t hold back. "If I can’t find any clues about Anthony’s death, I’ll go to Freyja. She might be able to help clear myself of this false accusation."
Freyja herself admitted that day that Baron wasn’t the killer. Not to ntion, he even saved her from that mysterious assassin’s attack.
His predecessor may have had so minor squabbles with her, but Baron was confident Freyja would help him. After all, there was no real animosity between them, and more importantly, he had saved her life.
"Anthony’s sister, your ex-fiancée..." Howard stroked his chin. "If she were to intervene on your behalf, they might actually clear you. The problem is how you’ll get near her."
Stella said, "Tonight in Outer London, the Hyde Commissioner, the Lancelot family, and the Hestia family are hosting a masquerade ball to celebrate a marriage alliance. At the ball, the young Patriarch of the Hestia Family, Jill Hestia, will propose to Freyja Lancelot. You’re on the guest list, Deputy Director."
Howard nodded without a word, instead turning his gaze to Baron. Baron caught his aning and pointed to himself. "? You want to just walk into the ball and talk to Freyja? How is that any different from walking into the lion’s den?"
The Hestia Family was already dead set on killing him. Plus, a proposal like this was guaranteed to be crawling with Law Enforcers. He’d be lucky not to be recognized, but if he was, he’d be burned to a crisp.
’Besides... an ex-fiancé showing up to his replacent’s proposal? No matter how you slice it, that’s just awkward.’
’Not that I have any feelings for Freyja, anyway.’
"According to the tiline of the Ti Death Judgnt, you’re already dead. But no one knows you’ve undone the judgnt. You can use the identity of a Westminster Commissioner as your disguise."
Stella slid a Black Card across the table toward Baron.
"You are now the mysterious Westminster Commissioner, L, not the Bloodless of the Constantine Family. You must use this to clear your na."
’This is...’
Baron picked up the Black Card. Its surface was pure black, embroidered with a single gold thread: the symbol for Gold, an "S" with a line drawn straight through it from top to bottom. This was also the logo for the Westminster People’s Bank.
Just as Jack had said earlier over the earpiece, at Westminster, Gold is supre.
Howard explained with a wide smile, "It’s a Westminster Bank card, accepted at banks worldwide. JPMorgan Chase in the United States, Julius Baer Bank in Switzerland, even Japan Sanren China Construction... you can even use it at a rural credit union."
"The credit limit is based on Gold. Your temporary Black Card is A Level, so you can withdraw up to 100 ounces of gold during a mission. That’s equivalent to nearly 50,000 USD."
’Fifty thousand USD... at this point in ti, that’s probably enough to buy a courtyard house in the capital city.’
Baron stared at the Black Card in his hand. ’Once this is all over,’ he mused, ’it wouldn’t be a bad idea to just withdraw a pile of cash from this card and go live a quiet life sowhere under a new na.’
"The funds are for mission expenses only. After every mission, the logistics departnt has specialists who will settle your accounts. The funds on the Black Card are frozen outside of mission periods.
Of course, it also serves as your identification when needed. You can use the card’s clearance to access any facilities under the Westminster Group for free."
As if reading his mind, Stella added coolly.
She continued, "Since you’ve been registered as a trainee commissioner and possess a high-clearance Black Card,
as per the employee agreent, to ensure all our commissioners can complete their missions successfully, your family will be placed under Westminster’s protection upon registration of your card."
’Family...’
Baron thought of the sister and cousin he’d inherited, ntioned in the diary. ’Westminster’s employee benefits are pretty good,’ he thought. ’They don’t just help you clear your na, they even provide bodyguards for your family.’
"But the protection fees will be deducted from your Black Card’s balance."
’Hmm... well, it makes sense that I’d have to pay for it.’
"If you are discovered during a mission and it is determined that escape is impossible, Westminster will unilaterally terminate the agreent and disavow any knowledge of you as a Westminster Commissioner."
’That sounds more like the Westminster from the rumors. I take back what I just thought.’
"Next, to ensure you don’t give yourself away at the ball, I will be making so... alterations to your appearance and attire."
Stella then clapped her hands. The office door opened, and a team of young, vibrant won in sharp skirt suits pushed clothing racks into the room.
"Stella, I’ll leave him to you. Our young man is in need of a stylist." Howard rose and patted Baron on the shoulder. "And as it happens, Stella is the best stylist in London."
The Deputy Director left the room.
Before Baron could react, he was surrounded by the group of won. They stripped off his trench coat with its [Blocking] effect, and fair hands began pinching and prodding him all over. One of the girls even secretly tickled his palm!
Stella ignored all of this, simply stating, "Even though it’s a masquerade ball, we’ll still need to make so slight modifications to your hair and eye color... Your attire also needs to have the style of a Westminster Commissioner..."
As Stella spoke, a parade of high-end luxury suits from brands like Armani, Zegna, and Prada were tried on Baron.
His hairstyle changed from an Arican-style spiky cut to a textured crop, and then to an Italian wolf cut.
By the end, Baron felt like an unfeeling mannequin, being dressed up and played with like a Ken doll by these bright, elegant young won.
By the ti the won left, Baron’s appearance had been so completely transford that Jack, upon entering the office, jumped in surprise. For a mont, he thought he was looking at an Elf who had escaped from the Inner Side.
Only when he saw the Gentiana Pattern Ring did he manage to recognize Baron.
"Constantine Brothers?" Jack asked uncertainly.
"L. Call him L," Stella said. "From now on, you and L are on the sa team."
L. The young man wore a tailored, perfectly crisp, pure black suit that looked incredibly expensive.
His features were sharp, his complexion pale, and his pure black hair was combed with ticulous care. The Chain of the Imitator hung from the belt loops of his Dior trousers. Below, he wore a pair of Silvano Lattanzi shoes—handmade from crocodile leather, with only 600 pairs produced annually.
An aura of handso elegance and nobility emanated from him. Combined with his naturally good looks, it was no wonder the won had taken the opportunity to cop a few feels during the fitting.
"Sothing’s still not quite right."
The secretary looked him up and down, then picked up the phone and gave a brief order. A mont later, a young woman entered, holding an exquisite watch.
She removed the Patek Philippe from Baron’s wrist, replaced it with the new tipiece, and nodded in satisfaction. "The Vacheron Constantin is a much better match."
She added, "Glimpse of the Mysterious Crystal can change the color of your irises. Just think of a color and infuse it with Spiritual Power."
Baron nodded, and his dark irises shifted to an erald green.
Her gaze then fell on Jack. Compared to Baron, Jack looked like a Golden Retriever that had been stuck in the rain all day.
Stella frowned, picked up the phone again, and gave another order. A mont later, another young woman ca in.
Jack was full of anticipation, thinking he was about to get a grand transformation too. But to his dismay, the secretary simply took two masks, carefully placed one on Baron, and then slapped the other onto his own face.
Stella ignored Jack’s protests and glanced at her watch. "There’s still a little ti before the ball. Do you know how to ballroom dance?"
Baron shook his head. Having grown up under the red flag,
the only dance he knew, besides the national callisthenics program, was probably a moonwalk in the bathroom. Sothing as high-class as ballroom dancing was completely outside his social sphere.
But the secretary just gave a light laugh. "You don’t? Well then, I’ll teach you."
...
「Evening. Outer London, Hyde Manor.」
A taxi pulled over near the estate. Two impeccably dressed gentlen in suits and masks stepped out.
They stood ramrod straight, exuding an air of martial valor, as if they were marching off to win a great battle.
The taxi driver honked and rolled down the window. "That’ll be four pounds. Who’s paying?"
"He is," the two gentlen said in unison.
"Con— L, I’m only here as your plus-one!" the big, blond gentleman protested.
"You’ll benefit from the mission’s success too, D Level Commissioner," the green-eyed, dark-haired man said with a slight smile. "Besides, I heard from Stella that you made a tidy sum betting on . Your little betrayal ought to cost you sothing."
"Fine, you win."
Defeated, Jack paid the fare, then took out the invitation and led Baron to the entrance.
The Attendant at the gate glanced at the invitation, then at Baron and Jack. He let Baron through but stopped Jack at the entrance.
Jack demanded to know why.
The Attendant replied coldly, "Staff use the back entrance."
User Comments
0 comments from readers