Chapter 194 | The Crimson Moon Returns

Massive gas jets spouted roaring flames, casting an orange glow across the first-floor ballroom through translucent glass lampshades.

Tailcoat-clad musicians blissfully drew their bows, weaving soft, gentle music that floated through the hall, elegant and melodious.

Dozens of guests gradually gathered in the ballroom—adorned in luxurious attire, exchanging pleasantries with gentle smiles, wrapped in fine fragrances, glistening jewels, and shimmering gowns.

This was the scene that greeted Lynch as he stepped into the ballroom: a smiling crowd gathered in small groups, chatting softly in what seemed like a picture of peace, comfort, and harmonious delight.

Peaceful? Right, so all those hidden daggers stabbed into my back just now were just hallucinations, were they?

Lynch sneered internally. Straightening his back, he adjusted his cuffs and walked into the ballroom, leaning lightly on his cane.

At least he hadn't become the center of attention the moment he crossed the threshold like before. Lynch began to relax slightly, but before he could even exhale, he heard someone call his name.

Again?

Tensing up once more, he looked toward the voice and saw an unfamiliar middle-aged gentleman holding a glass, smiling warmly as he raised a toast in his direction.

“Mr. Detective, I am Baron Duron from the Municipal Finance Department. A pleasure, an absolute pleasure. You are the star of tonight's event. If there is ever an opportunity for cooperation in the future, I will certainly pay you a visit.”

Saying this, he produced an exquisite gold-embossed business card and handed it over.

Hiss... this actually worked.

At this point, Lynch was in absolute awe of Miss Valente. That morning, she had specifically taken him to print a stack of business cards. They weren't the plain, stark white primitive cards he used to carry, but beautifully crafted ones adorned with elegant artistic fonts.

It was worth emphasizing that the design fee alone was three Lande pounds for a hundred cards.

Another thing even more worth emphasizing: settled monthly, paid by the Valente family.

Who was she looking down on? Facing such a blow to his dignity, Lynch had naturally accepted it with open arms. He had even wanted to ask for another hundred, but considering the girl might take him seriously, he ultimately dropped the idea.

He hadn't thought he would actually get to use them, yet reality proved that virtually every preparation she made came in handy.

As expected of the scion of a millennium-old noble family. Her nose for schemes, her grasp of human hearts, and her foresight regarding the situation made even a transmigrator who had watched countless shows feel inferior.

“Mr. Levive.”

Having just sent Baron Duron on his way, a woman's call came from behind him. Turning around, he saw a young lady in her twenties gazing at him with big, watery eyes.

“Your performance today was truly magnificent—it was simply captivating. My family is hosting a reception in a couple of days; you simply must grace us with your presence.”

With that, her sultry, enticing eyes shot Lynch an intense look before she lifted her skirts and turned away, leaving a soft, giggling laugh trailing behind her.

Who is she? Is something wrong with her?

“Haha, that is Viscountess Gwen, a rather famous noblewoman in Rhine City.”

Behind him, another unfamiliar middle-aged gentleman handed over a business card, kindly introducing her.

“Quite a few talented young men have fallen at her feet, and by all accounts, they were thoroughly entranced. Hahaha, if you work hard enough, perhaps you might get close to her as well.”

Holy crap, is she the legendary noble town bike?

Thanks, but no thanks. I'm definitely not blessed enough for that.

Maintaining a polite yet awkward smile, he sent the sleazy old man packing, only for another business card to be handed over from the side.

This time, it was three young ladies, each wearing a look of admiration. “Mr. Detective, we heard that you solved so many major cases for His Excellency the Governor this month! The three of us are holding a ball in five days. You simply must come—we want to hear all about your glorious deeds!”

By now, Lynch was numb. He rigidly exchanged business cards with the guests leaning in to curry favor. Only now did he realize that his glorious image was gradually taking root; the hidden daggers he had endured earlier hadn't been borne in vain. However, whether he could succeed completely depended on the main course coming up. If he couldn't pass that hurdle, the higher he climbed now, the harder he would fall later.

“Mr. Detective.”

Who is it this time? Lynch had developed a conditioned reflex. By the time he turned around, a formulaic smile was already plastered on his face, but his expression quickly softened into a long exhale of relief.

It was Director Hoffman of the Hall of Order, walking up to him alongside two inspectors.

Lynch tipped his top hat with a wry smile, speaking half-jokingly, “Your Excellencies, we've worked together after all. Even if we aren't exactly friends, I don't believe I've ever offended the Hall of Order. Is there really any need to set me up like this?”

“Haha, you jest.” The three police chiefs showed embarrassed smiles. Inspector Bruno awkwardly raised his glass. “We didn't expect Count Lorand to pay so much attention to you either. But this works out well—it gave you a chance to showcase your brilliance, not just to these nobles, but also to Princess Chloe, giving her no excuse to reject your involvement.”

“Did she... want to reject me?”

Lynch frowned, seemingly realizing something.

“Not explicitly, but she was somewhat hesitant. However, after several high-ranking officials from the city hall recommended you—including Chairman Grant and Mayor Howard—Her Highness agreed. Still, since you aren't a public official, and as a foreign princess it isn't convenient for her to frequent the Hall of Order or City Hall, she asked to meet you at an occasion like this. What happened earlier was likely Count Lorand testing you, hahaha.”

A test? If it were just evaluating antiquities, that might count as a test. But adding the trap with the replicas went far beyond a mere test—it was a genuinely lethal trap.

Still... I'm starting to understand.

Lynch connected all the dots. The princess and the Count likely never intended to let him get involved at all. It was only because of certain reasons or certain people that they couldn't refuse outright, leading them to stage this whole charade.

Why? It's not like I lost a gem and came begging to you. You're the ones who need help, so why refuse? And fine, refuse if you want, but I didn't provoke you—what right do you have to try and ruin me completely?

Lynch remained outwardly composed, but anger flared within his chest.

They were far too ruthless, willing to utterly destroy my reputation just to drive me away. Fine. Today, I'll see what kind of game you're playing.

Ding-dong.

Just as Lynch's expression turned somber, a crisp chime echoed, and the grand doors of the ballroom suddenly slid open to both sides.

Six handmaidens entered in single file, ushering in a young lady in magnificent attire.

She was tall, yet young—around fourteen or fifteen. Though a hint of childish innocence remained on her face, her expression already bore an overbearing arrogance.

Dressed in a white princess gown and wearing a jewel-studded crown, she walked into the ballroom with a reserved smile, lifting her skirts to offer a subtle curtsy to the crowd.

“Greetings, Your Highness.”

Young, aggressive, arrogant, willful, self-centered, and conceited.

These were the evaluations Miss Valente had gathered. Seeing her in person, she was indeed pretty and undeniably regal, yet Lynch couldn't bring himself to feel the slightest fondness for her.

Princess Chloe casually waved her hand, ignoring everyone, and walked straight toward Lynch. Lynch couldn't help but frown; he felt that the princess's figure and posture looked somehow familiar.

He felt as though he had seen her somewhere before.

“Are you Detective Lynch Levive?”

Her tone was laced with condescending arrogance. Though such an attitude might be normal for a princess, it still rubbed Lynch the wrong way. Nevertheless, he merely smiled faintly, replying neither humbly nor haughtily, “At your service, Your Highness.”

“At my service? Hehehe... Only people of proper status are qualified to serve the royal family. Do you have that?” Princess Chloe held her head high, letting out a soft scoff. “Setting service aside, if you wish to interact with members of the royal family, who is your sponsor? Is it these two inspectors?”

The main course is here already? So soon?

Lynch's smile darkened, for this was his greatest vulnerability.

According to the rules of noble etiquette in this world, an outsider wishing to enter high society had to be sponsored by two local high-society figures. It served as a form of guarantee, vouching for the newcomer's character, standing, wealth, and influence.

The higher the status of the sponsors, the more respect the newcomer would receive, allowing them access to higher social circles, and vice versa.

Yet Lynch's biggest issue was that, in theory, his only sponsors were two inspectors from the Hall of Order.

Barely acceptable, considering they were public officials. But the two inspectors possessed no titles, no fortune, and no political standing. If they were established as his sponsors, Lynch would truly lack the standing to cooperate with high nobles. Not only now, but because it would solidify the gap in status, no noble would interact with him much in the future simply to preserve their own standing.

Strictly speaking by etiquette, Princess Chloe wasn't wrong. The problem was that, normally, everyone tactfully avoided bringing up such obvious, uncomfortable topics rather than laying them out in the open. Doing so was not only impolite, but completely devoid of noble grace.

However, Her Highness the Princess was notorious for being arrogant, willful, and lacking tact, so her doing this raised no eyebrows. The hall fell dead silent, everyone watching Lynch with amusement, waiting to see the drama unfold.