Hearing Charlotte's words, Russell fell silent for a mont.
Selling information directly to The Tis sounded exactly like sothing Henry Scott would do. As for the interview request, he wasn't particularly surprised.
If they could get the famous detective Charlotte Hols as a guest, newspaper sales would undoubtedly skyrocket. Besides, The Guardian next door would also run new headlines in a few days. If they gained nothing from this, they would simply be watching others profit.
As the saying went, if you don't pick up money lying on the roadside, you've lost it. Moreover, they were watching their rivals make money right before their eyes!
So Russell wasn't surprised by the request. On the contrary, he felt it was only natural.
What truly surprised him was Charlotte's attitude.
Logically speaking, those were the kind of words he would usually say to Charlotte. Given her personality, if Henry Scott had said sothing like that to her, she would have rejected it before the words even reached her ears. Even if the other party offered the ledger as a bargaining chip, there were ways to resolve it—simply invoke Scotland Yard and say, "This is evidence. Are you handing it over or not?"
Russell's gaze lingered on Charlotte. His eyes held a probing light.
With the help of Scouting, he noticed the girl's seemingly calm profile and the way her eyes, while pretending to focus on the ledger, were secretly observing his reaction from the corner of her vision.
Why is he staring at so intently?
Feeling a slight twinge of guilt under his gaze, Charlotte couldn't help but speak.
"No, it's nothing."
Russell looked away and smiled.
"This is a transaction. We can't just erase the debt. After all, people should be honest and trustworthy."
Charlotte let out an almost imperceptible sigh of relief.
"Yes… yes."
Charlotte still avoided a direct answer. "Besides," she added, "The Tis isn't going to not pay us."
"So when are we going?" Russell asked again.
"Huh?"
"When is the interview?" Russell asked.
"Everyone seems busy this week. At least I definitely won't have ti." Aside from classes, I have to spend Saturday with Mary and Sunday with you. Unless I postpone the visit to Charles Brown, I don't think I'll have any free ti.
He counted on his fingers as he spoke.
Charlotte fell silent for a while. She flipped through the pages of the ledger in her hands, staring intently at the densely packed numbers and nas as if seriously considering the problem.
"Then let's do it next week."
After a long silence, she finally spoke slowly and clearly.
Anyway, Henry Scott said we could decide the timing.
"Next week is fine," Russell nodded. "No objections."
"Then it's settled."
Charlotte breathed a sigh of relief. After a brief pause, she looked at Russell, who was still standing there.
"Anything else?"
"Hmm… doesn't look like it." Russell shook his head.
"If you have ti, please help organize the custor files for Lloyds Bank," Charlotte said.
"But didn't you hate touching those?" Russell asked as he walked over to the pile of docunts and picked them up. "What exactly needs to be sorted?"
"Nas, ages, backgrounds—anything you think is important."
"What does it an to value sothing?"
"Ask yourself," Charlotte waved her hand. "Rember whatever you consider important. Whether it's useful or not, I'll decide later."
"Alright." Russell nodded without refusing. Since I have free ti anyway, I might as well find sothing to do. While I'm at it, let's see if there are any promising new candidates in these files.
He casually pulled up a chair, sat down in front of the towering stack of docunts, and opened the top file to the first page.
The room fell quiet for a mont.
Russell's eyes scanned the bland personal information—nas, ages, addresses, occupations. All of it was utterly ordinary, nothing noteworthy. Charlotte was convinced that Moriarty and the Professor shared so connection, but the problem was…
Even though I stole it on impulse, how am I supposed to know what's inside?
Russell felt a complicated mix of emotions.
It was like the author himself being forced to look at his own work as an exam paper and write comprehension questions.
Why is the kettle hanging upside down? Because it's hidden under the waistband, so there's nothing else I can do, right?
His thoughts began to wander, but he quickly pulled them back.
To keep Charlotte from noticing he wasn't doing anything productive, he picked up a pen and began rewriting the file contents from English to Japanese.
Even if you don't know how to solve the problem, you should at least get so points for copying it, right?
Ti passed unnoticed. During that ti, Charlotte occasionally looked up from her ledger and glanced at Russell. He was imrsed in writing, occasionally frowning.
Seeing his diligent and serious expression, Charlotte raised her eyebrows in surprise.
"Quite serious."
She muttered sothing in a low voice, then glanced toward the sofa.
Russell's backpack was there.
Charlotte's gaze lingered on the canvas backpack for only 0.5 seconds before she casually looked away and returned her focus to the ledger in her hands.
Yet sohow, those gray-blue eyes that should have been fixed on account information and nas began to wander. Her gaze unconsciously drifted from the cold rows of numbers and quietly settled on the backpack casually tossed on the sofa. Curiosity, like restless claws, gently scratched at the depths of her heart.
She wondered what new entries Mary had made in her notebook that day.
A quiet war had begun, and as one of the main participants, she needed to stay constantly inford about the enemy's latest movents.
This wasn't childish rivalry—it was the desire to control information. Yes, exactly that.
Charlotte found a plausible justification for the thought that had secretly taken root.
She set the ledger aside, stretched, and said in as natural a tone as possible, "Watson, lend your notebook. I want to take so notes."
"Oh, it's in my bag. Go ahead and get it yourself," Russell said without looking up.
With permission granted, Charlotte stood up, walked to the sofa, casually unzipped the backpack, and took out the familiar notebook.
Once back in her seat, she didn't open it imdiately. Instead, she observed Russell's reaction.
He appeared completely absorbed in the endless pile of docunts, writing furiously, seemingly unaware of her casual actions.
Very good.
Charlotte's lips curved slightly. She slowly opened the notebook.
Skipping the boring annotations at the beginning, she went straight to the last page.
The silhouette she had drawn last ti was still there quietly, with no new doodles beside it.
Charlotte raised one eyebrow in satisfaction. Clearly, she had the upper hand in this exchange.
She then turned to a new page.
New doodles seed to leap off the paper.
…
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