Chapter 22: You're a Newcomer Too?

Early in the morning, Angel was awakened by the sound of knocking downstairs.

"Mmm..."

For the past few days, Angel had been busy until late at night or even dawn, never getting a full night's sleep. Last night, she finally resolved the issue with Mrs. Sharon, the only person who knew about her relationship with Cole. Relieved of this burden, she returned home, took a quick shower, and slept until now.

Cole's sister Lily Granger's room had been cleaned and aired out. The freshly laundered bedding emitted a special fragrance, like gentle hands embracing Angel in bed.

Despite the bright sunlight outside, she didn't want to get up just yet.

"Sorry, I'm coming in!" The voice of Tromie, the housemaid, came from outside the window, followed by the sound of a key turning in the lock.

Cole trusted Tromie greatly, even giving her a copy of the front door key so she could clean the house whenever he was out.

Although the house now temporarily belonged to Angel, she hadn't taken back Tromie's key. Her reasoning was similar to Cole's: she often went out, and the house needed a maid who regularly came to clean. A maid who had worked for years was more trustworthy than a stranger.

Hearing the rustling sounds downstairs, Angel decided to cover her head and sleep for another hour. She had already come to this other world and was no longer a Templar Knight who had to go to church for morning prayers every day. What did it matter if she slept for another hour or even until the afternoon?

Wait, didn't I agree to join the Nighthawks yesterday and was supposed to report this morning?

Angel quickly got out of bed and went downstairs in her nightgown, startling Tromie, who was wearing an apron and had a dust cloth wrapped around her head.

"Mr. Granger?"

When she saw who it was, her excited expression instantly turned gloomy.

"Oh—it's you, miss... I'm sorry. So the rumors are true, he really has disappeared?"

Noticing this difference in treatment, Angel guessed that Tromie might have harbored feelings for her employer beyond their professional relationship, but she had no further evidence.

Seeing the maid becoming increasingly sad, Angel could only console her for a bit, assuring her that even though Cole Granger was temporarily away, she would continue to employ the housemaid, and a raise could be discussed.

After calming Tromie down, Angel quickly washed up, changed into a comfortable outfit, and left the house.

It had been nearly a week since her arrival in this world, and Angel was still not used to women's clothing. She chose loose-fitting clothes that were easy to move in, rather than the dresses commonly worn by women of this era.

Even such a simple outfit took half an hour to put on. Women's preparations before going out were too troublesome, but going to work disheveled and unkempt was unacceptable... Angel grumbled inwardly as she hurried towards the carriage station at the corner of the street.

Fortunately, the carriage arrived quickly. She boarded, paid 4 pence, and found a seat in the corner.

The rush hour had already passed, and there weren't many passengers on the tram. A middle-aged man reading a newspaper across from her glanced up briefly when she sat down, then lowered his head, only to peek at her again from the corner of his eye.

"Wait, wait a moment!" A shout came from outside the tram, accompanied by the sound of running leather shoes. A man rushed into the tram.

"Zotlan Street, thank you." The man who caught the carriage were a tailcoat and a silk top hat, as if he were going to a ball. He fished out some coins from his pocket, handed them to the staff member at the front window of the carriage, then let out a long breath and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

Wearing so much on such a hot day, he certainly prioritized style over comfort...

Wait, this person looks familiar?

Upon closer inspection, Angel realized it was the Nighthawk newcomer she had met at the door yesterday morning when she was "escorted" back to the Black Thorns Security Company. His name was Klein, wasn't it?

It seemed he had already rented a house on Daffodil Street and moved to this neighborhood.

Klein also noticed Angel sitting in the corner. He stood at the entrance for a moment before deciding to sit down next to her.

"Hello."

Seeing Klein sit down beside her, Angel took the initiative to greet him. He clearly recognized her, and since they would be colleagues in the future, it was necessary to establish a good relationship.

"Hello." Klein replied, looking a bit uneasy after sitting down next to Angel. "I saw you on Daffodil Street yesterday. Your name is..."

"Angel Granger. You're Klein Moretti, right? Um... the new recruit at Black Thorns Security Company?"

Angel's friendly attitude made him relax a bit, and they continued to chat. Although some topics related to the Beyonder world were not convenient to discuss on a public tram, she still managed to learn quite a bit about Klein's situation.

Klein Moretti was a history graduate from Khoy University, with an older brother and a younger sister—probably the two she had seen with him yesterday. He had been involved in a Beyonder incident last week, being the sole survivor of a "mass suicide case," and was subsequently recruited into the Nighthawks as an administrative staff member.

Angel recalled Leonard mentioning "a newcomer like you" yesterday. So this was who he meant?

Surely not all the Nighthawk members were recruited this way?

As they chatted, they arrived at Zotlan Street.

Klein said goodbye and got off the tram. He stood at the roadside, adjusted his top hat, and took a deep breath, only to find that Angel had also alighted.

"Miss Granger, you're getting off here too. Could it be...?" Klein raised an eyebrow, asking in surprise.

"That's right, I'm also going to Black Thorns Security Company. We're heading the same way."

Angel answered with a smile, deciding not to reveal the mystery just yet.

The two walked one after another into the reception room on the second floor of the security company. The reception room, which had looked like a battlefield last night, had been cleaned up. The blood-stained carpet had been removed, revealing the wooden floor underneath. Only one intact sofa remained, surrounded by a few mismatched chairs forming a semicircle, with a low round table in the center serving as a tea table. The reception desk, being irreplaceable, had to stay, with two bullet holes still visible on its outer face.

A brown-haired girl was sitting behind the reception desk, fiddling with a coffee pot. The rich aroma of coffee filled the entire room. The sound of the door opening made her look up at the two newcomers.

"Good morning, Klein. And this is...?" She first greeted Klein, then looked at Angel with a puzzled expression.

"Angel Granger. Captain Dunn should have mentioned me."

The girl's eyes widened: "It's you... Yes, the captain said you'd be coming today. He's waiting for you in his office."

She put down the coffee pot, came out from behind the reception desk, led the two around a partition into a corridor, and stopped at the door of one of the three offices.

"Knock knock—" She knocked on the office door and said, "Captain, I've brought the two people you mentioned."

A deep voice came from inside: "Come in."

The girl didn't enter herself but made a "please" gesture. Angel glanced at Klein, saw him step back politely to clear the way, and entered the office first.

"Daly left Tingen early this morning," Dunn Smith, sitting behind a solid wood desk, said abruptly after Angel closed the door.

Angel was taken aback, not expecting Dunn to first discuss matters unrelated to work.

"I thought she would rest for a few more days."

"Her visit to Tingen was under other pretexts, and she stayed two extra days because of Mrs. Sharon's case. This was already pushing it. I'll have to write a report to explain this matter."

Dunn's gray eyes held a hint of amusement, clearly not bothered by these tedious affairs. "She spoke highly of you, saying that if I hadn't already recruited you into the Tingen team, she would have taken you away."

"Perhaps I should have gone back to Empat Port with her. She might have offered me full pay."

"Ahem... It's all regulations, not something I can change. You can ask the other newcomer, Mr. Klein Moretti standing outside. He joined even earlier than you, and he's still a non-official member."

As he spoke, he took out two copies of a contract from the drawer.

Angel took the contract and sat down in the chair opposite Dunn, carefully reading it through. The contract terms were few, covering signing date, salary, benefits, obligations, etc., mostly what Dunn had told her when inviting her to join last night. The only addition was a clause stating that "approval from the Church is required to become an official member."

At first glance, there were no unreasonable terms, except for the confidentiality clause, which was very strict, even allowing for direct judgment and punishment by the Church without the need for a lawsuit in case of violation.

However, considering the special nature of the Nighthawks, Angel could understand this caution.

She signed her name at the end of the contract and pressed her fingerprint. Dunn stamped both copies of the contract, returning one to Angel, thus finalizing the agreement.

"Well then, welcome to the Nighthawks, Miss Angel Granger." After putting away the contract, Dunn stood up and extended his right hand across the desk.

Angel smiled slightly, also standing up and shaking his hand.

"Thank you, Captain Dunn Smith."

After the handshake, they both sat down again, but Dunn's next words caught Angel off guard.

"Your first task is to hand over a batch of those bullets you used in yesterday's battle. What were they called again?"

Dunn shifted to a more comfortable position in his chair as he spoke.

Although puzzled, Angel quickly replied, "They're called 'Storm Convergence' and 'Phantasm Phosphorescence.' I used them all up yesterday and need to make more. Are they to be handed over to the higher-ups?"

"That's right. I have to submit the battle report next week. How many bullets can you make this week?"

Neither of them specified who "the higher-ups" were.

Angel made a rough estimate. She could produce about 5 bullets per hour, but based on her previous experience, her spirituality would be depleted after making 20 at most. If she concentrated on making them once a day, she could produce around 100 "Storm Convergence" bullets in a week.

"Phantasm Phosphorescence" was more complex to craft, with the bottleneck being not spirituality but the inability to maintain focus for long periods. She estimated she could only make 10 per day.

"If materials are sufficient, I should be able to make 100 'Storm Convergence' bullets with enhanced attack power, and at most 10 of the other type," she answered honestly. This involved an assessment of her combat ability and value, and as a newly hired employee, Angel didn't want to lie.

Dunn nodded with satisfaction, took out a stack of paper slips from the drawer, scribbled on one with the steel pen on the desk, tore it off, and handed it to Angel.

"Later, give this slip to Miss Rozanne, who's on duty today. Have her take you to Old Neil to get the materials you need. Just hand over 80 bullets to me next Monday. You can decide the ratio yourself, but there should be both types."

They only need the finished product, not the formula or manufacturing process?

Angel suppressed her doubts and accepted the slip with Dunn's flamboyant signature.

"There's an alchemy room in the basement, usually used by Old Neil. You can use it as needed. If you're missing any equipment, report to him, and we'll get it as soon as possible," Dunn instructed carefully. "Of course, you can also make them in your own alchemy room at home. I just need to see the results next week."

It seems they thoroughly searched my house the night before last... Well, I did enter the dream in the basement, so I probably couldn't hide it from Dunn with his "Nightmare" ability.

"I think I'll make them at home. I'm used to my own equipment."

After careful consideration, Angel decided to produce the required bullets at her own home rather than in the Nighthawks' headquarters alchemy room.

"Then go ahead and get started. Please ask Mr. Klein Moretti to come in," Dunn nodded, signaling his approval.