Lenburg, Azshara. Nexus District, Victoria Street. 4:20 p.m.
On the ground floor of Wayne Enterprises, where activity was usually minimal and a quiet silence prevailed.
Usually, not much happened on a day-to-day basis.
With only a few workers moving documents between the first and second floors and the occasional client coming in on business.
But since Friday, the situation had been turned completely upside down.
The ground floor looked more like a race track with workers constantly running back and forth. They almost tripped over one another as they carried various documents to their respective offices.
Most of those documents were going to a single office where the building's head accountant was located.
Arthur Beaumont was wearing reading glasses. His usual elegant white mustache was slightly disheveled. The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up, and he was urgently reviewing a thick stack of papers that tallied today's earnings.
"The tickets for the rest of the month are gone…" With a slight grimace, Arthur turned the paper in his hands. His eyes quickly scanned the purchases section.
'The sums are correct again...' The heavy gaze of the man in his late fifties wavered for a moment as he put down the papers.
His attention turned to the desk next to his, where a young man with curly brown hair and green eyes was sitting.
Saul was writing at a ridiculous speed, spending less than 15 seconds on one document before moving on to the next. Thick stacks of papers filled his desk, but they were shrinking faster than they could accumulate.
Next to him was Eleanor, watching what he was doing with tight lips. Like Arthur, his normally slicked-back hair was disheveled. A light layer of sweat covered his forehead.
With one of the documents reviewed by Saul in his hand, Eleanor and Arthur's eyes met.
"Any problems?" Arthur asked, to which the younger man shook his head.
"Everything is correct, again. The earnings match…" Whispering dazedly, Eleanor looked at Saul. He really looked at him.
The accountant copied his action and looked at the boy with complicated emotions.
While his lenburg still needed work, the same could not be said for his ability to calculate.
"Where did Mr. Wayne find someone like this? From a laboratory?" Eleanor whispered, still not believing what he was seeing, his coworker nodding in agreement.
To call the boy a math genius would be an insult. The speed at which he completed calculations was practically inhuman. In his time teaching the boy how to work here and the tests he took, Saul had never been wrong when it came to numbers.
No matter how difficult or complicated, with just one glance, the boy was already writing down the correct answer.
Noticing this talent, Eleanor decided to test the boy a little in the financial area. That was four days ago.
'Is he even human?' The same thought crossed both men's minds.
If someone had told them they were looking at a human computer, they would have believed it without question.
That made much more sense than what they were seeing now!
"The kid stays here" Arthur's voice was heavy, leaving no room for discussion.
He had worked here for more than 20 years. Just by looking at something, he already knew how long it would take him to complete the job. His experience told him that just one of these thick papers would force him to work overtime just to review it!
If he wanted to complete it, he would need at least two days. But at that rate, the work would pile up before he could react.
'If this is the mess that one theater generates, I don't want to imagine the hell that 10 will cause. By Wisdom, imagine 20? Saul will make that more bearable.' Silently, Arthur adjusted his thick white mustache.
He had to make the boy stay with him at all costs.
"Actually, Mr. Wayne had already told me that Saul would be joining you," Eleanor replied with a sigh, wiping his forehead with a tissue.
Saul's stay was only temporary. The boy would always end up in the financial sector, no matter what. At first, he was against it.
How could they entrust the responsibility of finances to someone who was not only a minor but also did not speak the local language?
Eleanor knew Arthur. While they weren't exactly friends, they had been co-workers for several years. That's why he knew that if the older man heard what the boss wanted to do, he wouldn't allow it.
Of course, that was before.
Now, the same man who would not have hesitated to kick the boy out if he dared to touch a document was asking him to stay and help out with the work.
Arthur's fingers stopped arranging his mustache for a second before continuing, a little slower than before. "That... That's good to hear."
Pausing for a moment, he added, visibly pleased, "Mr Wayne has an eye for talent."
Eleanor simply nodded. His attention returned to Saul, who had already finished the pile of documents on his left and was now starting on the right.
Meanwhile, in Harvey Wayne's office.
Vivian Langley clutched a pocket watch tightly in her right hand, the muscles in her arm bulging, as well as multiple veins rising up her neck. Her square glasses were slightly fogged up, but even so, her downcast eyes sent a clear message of death.
Barely holding back her fury, the Barbarian raised her chin and spoke hoarsely, "What are you doing here, you noodle piece of shit?"
"It's a pleasure to see you again, Miss Vivian." Cordis laughed somewhat uncomfortably, taking two steps to the side.
The lawyer's gaze shot to the side. "What does this mean, Mr K?"
Harvey Wayne was sitting at his desk, his hands folded in front of his face. Next to him was Abigail Rhodes, the white-haired woman with blue-gray eyes who observed everything with a critical eye.
But Vivian's gaze was not focused on them, but on the tall man in front of her.
Wearing a white jacket and with his long black hair hanging loose, her real boss stood, looking the same as he had on Friday when he rescued her.
"You'll be working together, so I wanted to make sure there were no accidents," Adryan sighed a little, his bored scarlet gaze focusing on the musician. "Although I must admit I'm surprised. I didn't think you'd actually come, Mr Cordis.
"You saved me from having to drag you here"
"Ha... ha..." Uncomfortable, Cordis focused his attention on the window. He suddenly found the rain outside interesting.
This was the best way to avoid trouble at the moment. If he tried to say "I'm sorry" again, Vivian would most certainly attack him. She was just a tempo away from becoming violent, a really small one.
Knowing this, he shut up like a good boy.
Faced with this attitude, Vivian snorted and, with heavy steps, almost threw the documents on her fake boss's desk. Snorting ungraciously, the Barbarian turned around and walked to the door.
"If you have nothing else to say, then I'm leaving!"
BAM!
The slam of the door shook the office and generated a slight draft.
Cordis D. pressed his lips together. His yellow eyes moved from the office entrance to the tallest occupant of the room, who had one hand in his pocket in a relaxed posture.
Those red eyes of his returned his gaze leisurely. As before, the man's strings made no sound. They just hung there dead.
Ignoring the awkwardness of it, the musician smiled slightly.
"I didn't think we'd see each other again so soon, Mr K."
"I told you, didn't I? You shouldn't be surprised." Tilting his head to the left, Adryan looked at the men, no, the reflection in front of him, uninterested.
The shadows under his feet darkened and condensed into a black puddle. From this small puddle, several notebooks emerged and floated on invisible threads to the dark-skinned man.
With a raised eyebrow, Cordis took the notebooks and opened one with a blue cover. "What is this?"
"Your work"
As those words reached his ears, Cordis read the first page of the book he had opened and froze.
Bambi Tracklist...
1. Main Title (Love is a Song)
2. Sleepy Morning in the Woods/The Young Prince/Learning to Walk...
15. Fire/Reunion/Finale
Next to the song titles, there was a crude note on how they should sound, as well as the lyrics for each one. While some songs were complete, the vast majority had only a few paragraphs written with a note saying "TO BE COMPLETED."
Understanding what this meant, his head shot up toward K, who was looking at him with a smile.
"You have seven days to finish all the music scores from those notes," the tall man practically sang, the gleam in those piercing eyes sharpening.
That wasn't a request; it was an order.
'...' Cordis turned his attention back to the books in his hands, noticing that there were 10 of them. Each one was a different color.
Seeing the musician suddenly turn pale, Adryan laughed a little, "You're a Composer, aren't you? This shouldn't be a problem for you."
"Mr K, even for us to make this many songs in such a short time is too much," Cordis mumbled, horrified.
"And? I haven't punished you for your maneuver on Friday yet. This is that punishment." Expressionless, the black-haired man took his hand out of his pocket and turned away, "Don't sleep if you have to. I don't care."
Turning his head slightly until only one red eye was visible, he repeated in a cold voice, "You have seven days"
Before Cordis could say anything in protest, the shadows beneath K boiled and quickly enveloped him, then sank into the ground and disappeared.
"I recommend you start now, Mr Cordis." Harvey Wayne spoke calmly as he reviewed the documents Vivian had brought, which contained the contract for the rent of 15 more theaters.
"...Understood," Cordis could only sigh. Closing the blue notebook and placing it with the others, he bowed slightly and left the office, heading for his study.
A few hours later. Ground floor of Astope Quarter.
In front of one of Azshara's most popular apartment buildings, a carriage with a visible WW mark stopped.
From it stepped a man with high cheekbones and combed-back black hair. Behind him stepped a woman with white hair and thick white robes, followed by a young maid with brown eyes.
They entered the building with calm steps. The man and the white-haired woman led the way, with the maid a few steps behind.
Arriving at the desk with a familiar worker in her mid-30s, Harvey Wayne spoke politely.
"I hired a maid to help keep my apartment tidy. I hope giving her a copy of the key won't be a problem."
At those words, the young maid clasped her hands in front of her stomach and squeezed them discreetly, a blush spreading across her ears.
The only daughter and heir of a nobleman of the New Party of the Loen Kingdom... Reduced to serving as a maid for a simple entrepreneur.
'This is the worst!!!' Hazel Match screamed in her head, filled with embarrassment.
When they told her she would be in disguise, she never thought it would be like this!
....
Somewhere in the Sonya Sea. Blue Avenger.
Alger Wilson stood with his back to his desk, on which two bags of gold pounds rested. But the pirate's gaze was not on these bags but on the wall beside him, where a nautical map hung.
In various parts of it, several islands were marked and connected by threads of different colors.
These were the stops, as well as the routes his target had taken in the last few days since he had purchased the artifact.
Carefully analyzing the routes, Alger took into account the weather conditions at the time as well as who he was dealing with. His eyes moved to the side of the map, where a wanted poster hung from a pin.
BloodHound Chris. 6,500 GOLD POUNDS
Alger took the wanted poster and looked deeply at the face on it.
A man with horribly messy hair, even on paper, eyes showing white on all four sides, and a bloody smile. Whoever made the poster put a lot of detail into the teeth, making it easy to see how sharp the fangs were.
'An aspiring Vice Admiral under the wing of Admiral of Blood Senor... Among the eight ships under his command, Bloodhound Chris is one of the most notable for his bloody methods, using the crews of the ships he boards as sacrifices for rituals to the Primordial Moon...' Recalling the information shared by the Church of the Lord of Storms, Alger understood why this pirate had sought an artifact with such specific qualities.
'It is likely that, due to his constant rituals to the Primordial Moon, the curse on his path intensified, and he needs an artifact to keep it at bay. It wouldn't be the first time something similar happened to Beyonders from the Prisoner Pathway. Rituals to Evil Gods, even when performed with the correct preparations and safety measures, always corrupt the participants. Especially those who perform them, as they form a mystical connection when praying in languages that move nature.
'Even with the help of that artifact. He's only had it for four days. The aftermath can't be dealt with so quickly...'
Understanding all this, remembering the weather of the last few days, and guided by his experiences acting as a Seafarer, Alger took a pin and marked an island in the south.
That was where his target was hiding.
Checking his compass and calculating his location with just a quick glance, the captain of the Blue Avenger left his room and headed for the helm.
The island was three days away with this wind, but if he used the currents, that time would easily be reduced to two days.