Several days after the incident, Silas was once again summoned to Dunn's office.
"Lanevus swindled over ten thousand pounds.
If it weren't for you, many citizens of Tingen would have gone bankrupt overnight," Dunn said, sliding ten 10-pound notes across the desk.
"Although a small portion of the cash hasn't been recovered, the victims still wanted to express their gratitude.
They pooled together a total of 100 pounds and asked that it be given to you."
Silas accepted the bills, counted out five, and returned them to Dunn. "Captain, I need a favor. Please give this money to the family of the guard who died."
Thanks to Old Neil's property and his regular salary, he wasn't short on cash lately, so he might as well be generous and show some respect for the unfortunate guard who'd lost his life.
Dunn studied Silas for a long moment before taking back the notes. "Understood."
He suddenly let out a low, bitter laugh. "Ha, it's truly ironic. I told you Tingen was safe, that we only got a few cases a month.
Yet you've barely been on the job a few days and you've already encountered multiple Beyonder incidents in a row."
Silas felt equally speechless. Was he some kind of innate magnet for evil gods?
He'd only just arrived in this world, yet he kept getting tangled up with followers of various evil deities.
"Clearly, for self-preservation, you should learn close combat.
If you'd known hand-to-hand fighting back then, things wouldn't have been nearly so dangerous," Dunn said. "Klein happens to be receiving training right now. You can just go with him."
"Yes, Captain."
Silas also urgently wanted to get stronger, so he nodded immediately at the suggestion.
"Anything else?"
After they'd finished talking, he didn't get up, but continued to ask.
"Mm."
Dunn rubbed his temples and thought for a moment. "Our Tingen team has a tradition.
New members must complete a mission independently to earn the squad's recognition.
Given that you essentially completed this incident on your own, and your contribution was significant, I'll count it as your independent mission. I'm sure the others won't object."
So there was supposed to be a solo mission, but now I don't have to do it, right?
Silas nodded thoughtfully.
But he still didn't move, remaining seated and watching Dunn, as if silently asking, "Anything else?"
Seeing this, Dunn couldn't help but smile wryly. "There's really nothing else."
***
"Instructor Gawain used to be a knight. His personality is rather strict. Don't try to challenge him. Just do what he asks."
That afternoon, on the way to the combat instructor's residence, Klein offered this advice. He'd started training a few weeks before Silas and had already gotten familiar with the instructor's temperament and personality.
"What if he gives me a hard time?"
"He won't make it hard on you. Instructor Gawain is just very strict."
Klein seemed to recall something, his face breaking into a smile. "Oh, right. Tonight there's a welcome party for you. Remember to eat plenty."
Due to the pursuit of Lanevus, the banquet originally scheduled for Friday has been moved to tonight.
The dinner would be held at Old Will's Restaurant, where they usually ordered meals, with expenses covered by the squad's communal funds.
It's just a meal. Is that really something to be so happy about?
Silas glanced at Klein with a sense of unease, then nodded.
Soon they arrived at their destination: a two-story building in the outskirts of the North District.
The house's exterior wasn't particularly attractive. The garden and lawn hadn't been tended to in ages; weeds grew thick and wild.
They pushed open the rusted iron gate, walked along the path wide enough for two people side by side to the front door, and entered.
A tall man stood with his back to them, staring at an empty fireplace.
Hearing the door open, Gawain turned around. He first glanced at Klein, then looked toward Silas.
"Who's he?"
He was quite old, with white hair at his temples and very pronounced lines around his mouth, though his eyes remained sharp and alert.
Under his gaze, Silas felt the crisis of being stared down by an old lion.
"Instructor, this is Silas Londor, our new colleague," Klein explained. "I hope you can, according to our contract, teach him combat skills just as you've taught me."
Gawain looked Silas up and down for a while, then snorted coldly. "He's even skinnier than you!"
What's wrong with being skinny? You can't exactly expect a mental patient to work out, can you?
Silas thought to himself, but met the man's gaze openly and confidently.
After sizing up Silas, Gawain suddenly asked him, "If I were to suddenly attack you right now, intending to kill you, how would you respond?"
"Shoot you."
Silas answered immediately.
"Assume you don't have a gun."
Gawain frowned.
"Run straight for the street while yelling for help."
"You can't leave the house! Assume it's just the two of us in this room, and you must engage me in combat!"
Gawain said, clearly irritated.
"Then I definitely can't beat you," Silas said frankly.
"I could only try to keep my distance, use a long weapon to keep you tied up, and target your weak points first... like your groin, your eyes, and so on.
If I really can't win and you're actually going to kill me, I might open the gas valve, let the gas fill the room, then light a match and take us both out.
I already checked, your gas valve's an old model. Easy to open."
He laid out his plan matter-of-factly. Klein's expression shifted from casual curiosity to gradually growing astonishment.
Gawain stared at him coldly. After a long moment, he let out a contemptuous laugh.
"Nothing but dirty tricks. Hmph. Still, your willingness to fight the enemy to the death... that's barely acceptable."
"So I can stay, right?"
Silas asked.
Then he saw Gawain point toward the other side of the living room. "There are practice knight uniforms over there.
Change into one, then do the most basic strength training. Your colleague will show you what to do. Understand?!"
Gawain suddenly raised his voice, barking with extreme authority.
"Yes, sir!"
The two of them instinctively straightened their backs and answered loudly in unison.
And so, for the next three hours, under Klein's guidance, Silas became intimately acquainted with dumbbells and jump ropes.
***
That night, at Old Will's Restaurant.
Except for the team member guarding the Chanis Gate, all members of the Blackthorn Security Company were present, including clerical staff and Nighthawks alike.
Tempting delicacies were artfully arranged on plates, covering the entire table. Everyone's place was heaping full.
Unfortunately, Silas had no appetite. For three solid hours that afternoon, he'd endured high-intensity training.
Fatigue and exhaustion filled his body. Just looking at the food, just smelling its aroma, made him want to vomit.
Only now did he realize what Klein's meaningful smile had really meant.
"Come, let us welcome our newest official member, Silas Londor!
He's just joined the team, yet he's already made a great contribution to our Tingen Nighthawk squad. Let's thank him together. Cheers!"
"Clink!"
All the glasses came together, producing a pleasant sound.