CHAPTER 41: ISABELLA

Wayne had probably studied himself into a stupor. The relentless combination of theoretical learning and meditation had drained him of his energy. If asked to recall the three sizes of the three magical girls, he wouldn’t be able to rattle them out without thinking like usual. It would’ve taken him 0.25 seconds!

Outside of attending to his basic needs, he spent every waking moment cramming. To catch up with the geniuses, he even cut back on sleep, maintaining only the bare minimum rest required and going back to grinding as soon as he opened his eyes.

He trained so hard that even his memories of the magical girls had become blurry. It was no surprise that he did not remember Hood.

Is it someone’s wife?

Come to think of it, the Windsor Royal Navy did have an active battleship called HMS Hood.

He returned to the manor house. Hood had already hung up, but Veryl had noted down his number. Wayne dialed back, and the call quickly got through. It seemed that Hood had been waiting by the phone the entire time.

“What’s the matter, Hood?”

“Mr. Wayne, Wesley disappeared. I discovered that I’m being followed. To avoid causing you trouble, I didn’t visit you in person...”

Hood’s voice was hoarse, barely concealing his exhaustion. He forced himself to explain his investigation into the Geocentrisum Sect and informed Wayne where he had hidden his report, hoping Wayne would send someone to deliver it back to Londan.

With Hood being tailed, he couldn’t get the report out of Enrod himself. Although he wanted to contact the official intelligence agency that had commissioned Wesley, Wesley’s disappearance made it impossible to contact the liaison. As for the police chief... Better not drag more people into this mess.

Wayne was a different case. In Hood’s eyes, he was a member of the Lando family and a formidable figure keeping a low profile. He and Wesley believed Wayne to be the heir who would take over the family and had been educated for it, given his keen observational skills and exceptional deductive abilities, combined with his modest and reliable demeanor.

Hood was convinced that Wayne had extensive connections in Londan, mingling with fellow members of the upper class and befriending powerful officials. Entrusting him to deliver the intelligence would ensure immediate contact with their client.

Wayne had no idea about Hood’s baseless assumptions. Aside from his name, he shared absolutely nothing in common with high society.

He was curious about the report and eager to glimpse the truth behind the Lord of the Void. After a moment’s consideration, he agreed to deliver the report to Londan. He also warned Hood to find a hiding place and wait patiently for someone from Londan to arrive, staying out of sight in the meantime.

Hood disagreed. He stated his willingness to draw attention away from Wayne while also searching for the missing Wesley in case the young detective had met an untimely demise. With that, Hood hung up. He didn’t answer when Wayne dialed back..

“How admirable. He’s already showing traits of a legendary investigator...”

He raised an eyebrow and asked Veryl to have someone retrieve the hidden report—make sure to choose a smart one who knew how to shake a tail. He would offer help as long as it didn’t harm his interests. The manor was a safe haven, perfect for training. He didn’t want to bring trouble to his doorstep.

Veryl bowed and backed away, dispatching one of the four maids to retrieve the report by car.

The manor house held many cherished memories, and Mr. Lando valued the place highly. Not only had he appointed the trusted Veryl as butler, but he had also assigned four exceptionally skilled maids to serve as guards. They came from military backgrounds and each possessed unique talents.

Thirty minutes later, the maid returned with the report, nodding to Veryl to confirm that she wasn’t followed. Veryl first opened the file to make sure there was no trap before handing it to Wayne.

Such professionalism!

Wayne loved the flawless butler. After taking the document, he skimmed through it briefly, then he dialed Silvia with a frown. She wasn’t in, and it was her assistant who answered the call. Her assistant promised to contact Silvia as soon as possible.

There wasn’t anything he could do about it. Smartphones had not been invented in this era, so contacting people usually took time.

He sat by the phone and read through the report again. The Geocentrism Sect was indeed not a legitimate religious group. They had been luring in followers for ulterior motives, and to attract more people to join them, they even gave away free eggs to promote themselves.

It was a practical gift that would please anyone. Who didn’t love free eggs?

According to Hood and Wesley’s investigation, the Geocentrism Sect’s headquarters were located in Enrod, right across the town hall. The sect’s leadership enjoyed numerous privileges and very likely had the town’s key officials in their pockets.

Recently, the Geocentrism Sect claimed to have discovered a tunnel leading to the underground world. They invited Professor Vincent, a geologist, and his team for the exploration mission, hoping to use the professor’s influence for publicity.

Unexpectedly, the professor turned out to be trouble and was poisoned by his own student.

The two detectives posed as believers and infiltrated the group, even reaching the entrance to the underground tunnel. Security was tight there, preventing them from advancing further, so they only marked the location in their report.

The next day, Wesley suddenly went missing, and Hood realized that he was being followed. With excellent counter-surveillance skills, he evaded his pursuers and managed to hide the report. Afterward, he contacted Wayne in an attempt to reach the Londan intelligence agency.

He hadn’t reached out to any other agencies because this was a secret commission, and seeking help elsewhere would most likely be met with inaction. Moreover, even if his request wasn’t ignored, Windsor was known for its administrative inefficiency. By the time the intelligence agency finally received the message, both he and Wesley would be long dead, their bodies decomposing.

The report didn’t reveal much detail but emphasized an event five days later. The Geocentrism Sect had organized a collective pilgrimage for their members at the entrance of the underground tunnel.

Hood found the gathering highly suspicious, and Wayne agreed, already picturing rivers of blood in his head as he anxiously awaited Silvia’s call.

He found a promotional pamphlet published by the sect in the report. The cover featured a hollow Earth with a simple illustration of the underground world. Wayne’s eyebrow twitched. He flipped through the pamphlet and found nothing about the Lord of the Void, but he sensed something nefarious while reading.

It wasn’t magic, but hypnotic commands formed by text and graphics. Prolonged reading of the publication would interfere with a person’s rational judgment.

“Definitely a cult...”

Half an hour later, the phone rang. It was his master. His anxious heart finally settled.

It was a common trope that one’s teammates would drop the ball for various reasons at the eleventh hour. He didn’t want that to happen to him.

“Master, do you know about the Geocentrism Sect and the Lord of the Void?”

“What nonsense is that? Wayne, are you secretly worshipping other deities behind my back?”

On the other end of the line, Silvia sounded heartbroken like someone whose prized horse had been stolen.

Wayne didn’t waste his time playing along. He quickly explained the situation, and Silvia immediately warned him in alert, “Don’t act rashly. This is bigger than it seems, definitely not a simple cult. I’ll arrange for someone to investigate immediately. You just have to serve as the contact. Let them deal with everything.”

He nodded. This was exactly the outcome he wanted.

After hanging up, he glanced at the pamphlet again and asked Veryl to strengthen the manor’s defenses, expelling any strangers at first notice. Veryl nodded and summoned the four maids to give them instructions. Immediately, two sniper rifles were set up on the manor’s rooftop, and the other two maids armed themselves to the teeth in the armory, draped in cartridge belts and handling two machine guns like they weighed nothing.

...This is overkill, thought Wayne. I only told you to watch out for approaching strangers.

The heavy firepower gave him a great sense of security, allowing him to continue his training in peace. When evening arrived, the phone in the manor rang again. A cold voice informed him that she was outside the house and would he please tell the snipers to stand down and avoid friendly fire?

Wayne told Veryl to invite their guest in. The visitor was a woman, but unlike what her frosty, elegant voice would suggest, she had quite a plump figure—no, she was severely obese.

She had fair skin and blonde hair with blue eyes, someone who would clearly be stunning if not for her weight. Unfortunately, her obesity ruined her image. She looked round from every angle, resembling a sphere no matter how one looked at her. Wayne didn’t even have the words to describe her.

Although it was wrong to judge someone by their appearance, had his master not dialed the wrong number?

“Isabella.”

“Wayne.”

He took her fingertips according to etiquette and said courteously, “Thank you for coming all the way from Londan, Ms. Isabella. The journey must have been tiring. Please have a seat and rest for a moment.”

“Just call me Isabella. And I came from Palis, the Republic of Franc, on the High Reverend’s order.”

Wayne was stunned speechless. Why would Silvia have called someone from Franc? Ah, perhaps his master faced exclusion as a newcomer in Londan.

Isabella was cold and disliked small talk, getting to the point in the bluntest way possible. He soon found that they had nothing in common. Checking the time, he invited her to the dining room.

She had likely not eaten since she had rushed here on such short notice. Fortunately, Veryl had prepared extra food for their guest.

At the table, Wayne witnessed what true gluttony looked like. Even when he was cursed, he couldn’t eat like Isabella. She licked the plates cleaner than dogs would. The butler had prepared extra food, but not nearly enough.

Is she really a mage? He couldn’t contain his curiosity. “If I may ask, are you under some curse, Miss?”

Isabella picked the rice grains off her face and put them in her mouth. “No, this is my magic!”