Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 16 Victor's Arrangements

Dinner ended on the surface without any apparent calm.

Green helped Aunt Sylvia clear the dishes into the kitchen, while Sura wiped the table. Just as he was about to take the opportunity to go upstairs to avoid possible further questioning, Uncle Victor's voice came from the living room.

"Green, come here for a second."

Green paused, nodded slightly at the look Aunt Sylvia gave him, and turned to walk towards the living room.

Victor had already sat back down on the old sofa, no longer reading the newspaper, but looking at Green, tapping his fingers on his knee.

"sit."

Green sat down in the chair opposite him and waited.

"You're not young anymore," Victor said bluntly. "It's not sustainable to keep taking on these unstable jobs."

Green didn't respond; he knew this was just an opening.

"I asked around for you, and the Port Authority's clerical department needs someone temporarily to organize and archive old shipping manifests and trade records. The work is tedious and the salary isn't high, but it's stable and a respectable job. You can report for duty tomorrow."

This was completely unexpected by Green.

Trapped at the bottom of the bureaucratic system, dealing with moldy paper every day, this was not the life he wanted.

"Uncle, I..."

Victor raised his hand to interrupt him, "Green, you need a decent income and a respectable identity, not only for yourself, but also for Sura, and for the family's...respectability."

He emphasized the word "decent" a little.

Green instantly understood his uncle's meaning. On the one hand, he was planning for him in his own way to prevent him from "disappearing" again or getting involved in danger.

On the other hand, the fact that an unemployed nephew was living in the house for an extended period was itself a problem that needed to be addressed for Victor Hayes, who was concerned about his public image.

Green swallowed his refusal.

I probably won't be able to go back to the firm anytime soon. I definitely need a new identity and income, and besides, I can't stop giving my aunt money for food every month...

Green pondered for a moment and suddenly realized that Uncle Victor's suggestion was a good idea.

Seeing Green remain silent, Victor assumed he was still hesitant and brought up another topic:

"Also, your mother's good friend, Mrs. Hannah of the Winston family, has some dealings with our family and has always been very concerned about you. When I met her the other day, she mentioned a distant niece, about your age, who teaches at St. Margaret's College. She's a quiet and well-mannered young lady. I think you two might want to get to know her."

A teacher with a gentle personality, she was practically the ideal niece-in-law in her uncle's eyes, and most importantly, the Winston family was an aristocratic family, though they had declined.

A blind date? Green instantly felt a surge of pressure.

"Uncle, I... don't have the means to consider these things right now."

"It's precisely because you don't have one that you need to consider it even more. Settle down and build a career first. A stable job and a suitable marriage will help you settle down more quickly. This isn't urgent; you can think about your job first."

The conversation ended there. Victor picked up the newspaper again, indicating that the conversation was over.

Green stood up. "Thank you, Uncle. I'll think about the job."

He turned and went upstairs, his steps slightly heavy.

My uncle's arrangement was well-intentioned, even though it wasn't what I wanted. A boring temporary job, an arranged blind date—these are all rules of normal society.

However, accumulating capital takes time.

I went into the second-floor washroom, turned on the brass faucet, and splashed water on my face, trying to dispel the fatigue from dinner and the oppressive feeling from that conversation.

He looked up at the water-stained mirror on the wall.

The young man in the mirror was in his early twenties, with short black hair glistening with water droplets. His facial features were well-defined, though not particularly rugged; his fair skin and calm eyes exuded a sense of detachment that seemed incongruous with his age.

"Capital..." he pondered the word.

To escape a predetermined fate, one needs to prove that they have independent and sufficient abilities.

It's not just about making money, but also about power, connections, information... everything that allows him to control his life.

He couldn't return to his work at the firm anytime soon, and it was best to avoid using the old channels to prevent the Scarlet Cult from finding him. He needed a new, more discreet, and faster route.

A proper job is a good choice. Perhaps by using his position in the Port Authority's Clerk's Office, he could gain access to files and information that are difficult for ordinary people to access.

The port of Le Borreira handles massive amounts of cargo and secrets every day. Could there be something that can be traded hidden in those archived old shipping manifests?

Or, by processing those trade records, to find out the secrets and loopholes of certain merchants?

His thoughts were gradually becoming clearer, but he knew that the actual implementation would be fraught with difficulties. He needed a catalyst, and he also needed a more careful plan.

Just as he was lost in his thoughts, there was an rude knock on the bathroom door.

Green frowned and raised his voice: "Someone's there!"

The response from outside the door became more urgent, the knocking almost venting, followed by Emily's impatient voice:

"Green! How much longer are you going to stay in there? Did you fall in? Should I get you a spoon to scoop you out?"

Her voice was full of resentment, clearly an excuse to vent the anger she had suffered at his hands.

Green knew that Emily wasn't inherently bad; she just often couldn't control her tongue, spoke without restraint, and liked to tease Sula.

He stood up and straightened his collar.

He opened the door, and there stood Emily, arms crossed, glaring at him angrily.

"It's so slow!" she complained, turning sideways to squeeze in.

Green did not argue with her, but as she passed by, he spoke calmly in a low voice, "If you don't change your temper, no nobleman will want to be with you."

"Hey! You—"

Emily's furious voice was blocked by the heavy wooden door.

Green didn't turn around and went straight to her room. She could imagine Emily stamping her feet in frustration.

Back in his cramped bedroom, he locked the door behind him. He changed into clean pajamas, and only when his body touched the soft bed did he feel an indescribable weariness.

Green stared at the mottled patterns on the ceiling, his eyelids growing heavier and his thoughts becoming hazy. Several days of mental exhaustion had reached their peak; now, fatigue washed over him like a tide, trapping him on his single bed.

He eventually gave up resisting and let himself sink into the dream.

In his dream, he sat in an elegant café, the air filled with the rich aroma of coffee beans and the warmth of desserts.

Sunlight streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, casting bright spots of light on the smooth tabletop.

Across from me sat a young woman, her face somewhat indistinct, but her manners were elegant and graceful, and her voice gentle and pleasant.

They seemed to be talking, in a pleasant and relaxed manner, about books, music, and interesting anecdotes from some corner of the city...

There was no scrutinizing gaze from her uncle, no pressure to survive, no lurking dangers, only a relaxing, 'normal' atmosphere recognized by social rules.

This feeling... isn't bad.

......

"Sizzle—sizzle—!"

A sharp, piercing sound, like something scraping against glass.

Green jumped out of bed. "What is that?!"

Moonlight streamed through the window. The piercing sound continued, sounding very impatient, coming from outside.

On the windowsill, a jet-black cat was scratching at the glass with its front paws, its eyes filled with frustration.

Green instantly snapped awake and finally remembered what he had vaguely forgotten before falling asleep: he had forgotten Lillian's instructions.

Leave the window open tonight.

But he felt a sense of familiarity when he looked at the black cat outside the window. He didn't have time to think about it, and guessed that it was Lillian who had sent a message.

Green quickly pushed open the window latch, and the window was opened a crack. The black cat suddenly darted in and landed lightly.

However, the moment its four claws touched the ground, a strange change occurred.