Volume One: Chosen by the Gods

Chapter One: Wayne Baker Detective Agency

March 13, 1938 AD.

Kingdom of Windsor, London City.

The departing winter brings little warmth to this city. People hurry along the streets, the effects of the Great Depression still linger, and the shadow of war could fall at any moment. This city is not a happy one.

East District of London City, Bellick Street, Wayne Baker Detective Agency.

Two and a half stories, with a basement, facing the street—in the not-so-affluent East District, it barely counts as a source of happiness.

But that happiness belongs to the landlord, and has nothing to do with Wayne Baker. If he doesn’t pay the rent soon, he’ll have to find his joy in the sewers.

On the first floor office, Wayne Baker smiled at his client. Two investigation reports lay on the desk in front of him.

“Dr. Leonard Clark, regarding your two commissions, I have one good news and one bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”

“I’ve been unlucky lately, so let’s start with the good news.”

Leonard Clark shrugged. He was a middle-aged man mercilessly harvested by time—his once-thick hair now gifted to the young, while the greasiness the young didn’t want was given to him.

As a doctor, he couldn’t even grow a beard in protest.

“The good news is, the used car you had your eye on has been confirmed as a wreck. You can take this investigation report and use it to bargain down the price.”

Wayne Baker handed over the first report. According to the appraisal, it came with a forty-year-old soul ring attached. Night driving is not recommended; the previous owner might grab the steering wheel.

“That hardly counts as good news. It was supposed to be a gift for my child, now I’ll have to look for another one.”

Leonard Clark said helplessly, “Now tell me the bad news. I hope I can handle it.”

“The bad news is, your wife does indeed have a lover outside…”

At this, Leonard Clark interrupted directly: “Who is it, that brainless dockworker, or that damn failed art student?”

“To be precise, both.”

“……”

Both? What does that mean?

Leonard Clark looked utterly confused, completely thrown by this simple word.

Seeing the customer’s bewilderment, Wayne Baker patiently explained, “In the past week, Mrs. Leonard Clark met with the dockworker three times, and the failed art student three times as well. Each time, she met the art student first, then went to see—”

“That’s enough, no need to say more. Give me the report, I’ll read it myself.”

Leonard Clark interrupted again, picked up the report and began to read. The documentation was clear and well-organized, detailing times and locations, with photos attached, making it very convincing.

After a moment, Leonard Clark sighed. He didn’t fly into a rage; after a brief flash of anger, he calmed down.

“Wayne Baker, your reports are all accurate, but there’s one thing you got wrong.”

“Which part?”

“This is actually the good news.”

“Hmm, you’re right. How about some more coffee?”

“Of course.”

Dr. Leonard Clark cheerfully paid the follow-up commission, treating coffee like alcohol, and continued to complain to Wayne Baker about his unfortunate marriage.

Perhaps because he’d already been paid, Leonard Clark was no longer his client. Wayne Baker had no intention of listening to his grievances, and bluntly interrupted him, instead pitching other services offered by the detective agency.

For example, marital and family disputes.

“Didn’t you already investigate that?”

“I did, but this one is about you.”

Wayne Baker took a third investigation report from his desk drawer, containing evidence of Dr. Leonard Clark’s ambiguous affair with a certain nurse.

Sweat beaded on Leonard Clark’s forehead. He picked up his coffee with trembling hands to hide his panic. The documentation was clear and well-organized, detailing times and locations, with photos attached, making it very convincing.

“Hey, Wayne Baker, how can you treat your clients like this?”

“Don’t misunderstand. This commission came from your wife. To be honest, she’s much more generous than you.”

“Damn it, that’s my money.”

Leonard Clark roared. As a social elite, he quickly caught on and probed, “She hasn’t seen this report yet, has she?”

“Dr. Leonard Clark, my professional ethics require me to keep client information confidential. I’m afraid I can’t answer that.” Wayne Baker refused him sternly.

“Give me the report, I’ll pay double.”

“……”

“Triple!”

“Heh.”

“Five times, five times should be enough. With that much money, I could hire a professional killer at the docks.”

“Deal.”

“Damn it, you’re a disgrace to the detective profession.”

Leonard Clark paid and took the report, cursing as he left the agency, vowing to hire Wayne Baker again next time he needed an investigation.

Why? Because this guy really gets things done.

The key is, as long as you pay, he gets the job done with great efficiency. In the bureaucratic and sluggish Windsor, this is a rare and admirable quality.

Wayne Baker counted the bills, and only when the office was empty did he say, “Dr. Leonard Clark, I forgot to remind you—since your wife didn’t get what she wanted from me, she definitely won’t let it go. She’ll hire another detective to investigate. Good luck.”