Fantasy Writers 1860

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Dorian wasted no time and went straight back to the company headquarters with the store clerk to sign a contract in duplicate, pay the first month's rent and two weeks' deposit, and even had it notarized.

I went back to the small apartment I had rented before, said goodbye to Mrs. Michelle one last time, and paid off the remaining rent.

For some reason, Mrs. Michelle seemed completely unsurprised by her departure, as if she had known this day would come.

What a day it was to spend money like water.

However, Dorian was not worried at all, because he would have plenty of royalties in the future.

Although he hasn't started writing yet, he has already naturally included the future royalties in his current savings.

Dorian stood in front of the house holding a bunch of brass keys, his heart suddenly filled with mixed emotions.

"I never imagined that this would be the first time I'd own a house, even if it's just rented..."

Dorian carried the briefcase in his left hand, looked down at the bunch of brass keys in his right hand, then looked up at the sky, as if gazing at something in the infinite distance.

"Dad, Mom, if only you were still here..."

They are both my parents in my past life and my parents in this life.

Even in this world, I am all alone.

Although Dorian still has many relatives, both near and far, in his hometown in the countryside, they don't visit each other frequently. In this emotionally charged moment, he didn't think of them at all.

"Click"

With a crisp click, Dorian turned the key, pressed the doorknob, and went up the stairs to the study on the second floor, placing the suitcase he was carrying flat on the table.

Upon opening the box, inside was a brand-new typewriter, its metal surface gleaming.

"I finally remembered to buy the typewriter... Wait, I forgot to calculate the cost of the typewriter... If I include that..." Dorian suddenly started rummaging through all his pockets.

"Uh, looking at it this way... how come I'm penniless again?" He looked at the few copper coins he had managed to find after searching all over his body.

……

"Breaking news! Breaking news! An explosion occurred at the Mayfair Theater yesterday, killing a prominent activist in the subhuman liberation movement! Breaking news! Breaking news!"

Newsboys waved their newspapers and called out as they walked the streets. Although they were selling different newspapers, it was clear that all the newspapers were making this the headline today.

Dorian stepped off the public carriage and walked to the office of "Our Cats and Dogs" magazine, amidst the clamor of hawkers along the way, politely declining many newspaper boys' offers of help.

What a joke! Who has spare money to buy newspapers these days?

I've already carefully planned out the money I have left. If there's any extra expense, I won't be able to make it until Editor-in-Chief Clancy mails me my manuscript fee.

Upon arriving near the magazine office, Dorian spotted the familiar postal carriage again, still parked in front of the magazine office, with the same fierce coachman ordering the poor catgirl to unload the letters.

As Dorian walked to the door, the coachman, seeing Dorian, tactfully lowered his arm, which had been raised high, and gently ruffled Lenora's messy hair.

He even smiled at Dorian.

This guy is quite service-oriented. Knowing that his customers can't stand being beaten or scolded by demi-humans, he changed his behavior without any psychological burden.

Dorian ignored them and pushed open the door, walking straight in.

For a fleeting moment, Dorian wondered whether he should save the demi-human girl.

But the next second, his reason rejected the idea.

He can save one demi-human, but can he save all the demi-humans in the world?

Moreover, in Dorian's memory, a demi-human like her who still has a decent job is not the most miserable kind.

When poor, one should cultivate one's own virtue; when successful, one should benefit all under heaven. Dorian believed he had not yet reached the point where he could benefit all under heaven, so he would for now focus on cultivating his own virtue.

He sighed, glanced back, and saw the coachman's ugly smile, while Lenora's head was lowered, her expression unreadable.

Dorian slowly closed the door.

The coachman's expression changed, his smile vanished instantly, and he turned to face Lenora: "Why can't you be more careful! These are just letters, but the packages behind contain porcelain imported from Shun Kingdom! If you break or damage it, I'm telling you, it'll be your..."

The coachman's reprimand came to an abrupt end.

Because he heard the door open again.

He instantly put on that ugly smile, his face full of fat squeezing together to form distinct wrinkles.

A handsome young woman wearing a tall silk hat and a formal dress appeared behind the door.

"Sir, could you please go over there and buy me a newspaper, the Morning Star?" Lily slipped a few one-as coins into the driver's hand. "The rest is for the errand fee."

The rickshaw driver took the coin, a fawning smile on his face, and happily ran to the street corner to find the newsboy.

All that remained in Lily's mind was that demi-human girl.

"Your name is Lenora, right?" Lily asked first.

When Lenora heard her name called, she suddenly looked up, her bright eyes filled with surprise and...confusion.

"Go to 33 Hastings Trail and find Mr. Noah Reed. Tell him that Ms. Lily sent you. Give him this, and he will provide you with help and shelter," Lily said calmly.

Lenora took the envelope from Lily and nodded, seemingly understanding.

……

As usual, Dorian arrived at the secret office area of ​​the Academy of Arts and Sciences, only to find a strange guest there.

He was slightly overweight, with a broad, square face and a neatly trimmed mustache. He wore a dark navy blue tweed overcoat, over a white linen shirt and a dark gray vest, with a dark red silk tie at the collar. He wore dark wool trousers, the cuffs tucked into shiny black leather boots, the boot shafts still bearing a few barely noticeable specks of mud.

"Who is this person? How did he get to come here?" Dorian asked his colleague quietly after sitting down at his workstation.

"Reid Ulrich Wagner, the Detective Inspector of Scotland Yard, has been working with our Creative Publishing Institute for a long time and has helped us solve many cases related to fantasy books."

"Now, whenever Scotland Yard discovers cases suspected to be related to the Book of Illusions, they all ask us to work together... Could yesterday's theater bombing be related to the Book of Illusions?"

"Very likely," Dorian absentmindedly agreed.

Inspector Lesder seemed to notice Dorian's gaze. His sharp eyes shifted from the officials from the Academy of Arts and Sciences who were talking, scanned the office, and finally settled on Dorian.

He nodded slightly, as if to greet them, then turned back to continue his low conversation with the official.

"Detective Reed, you can go in now. The Dean is waiting for you." An unnamed official from the Cultural Affairs Bureau pushed open the door to the room with a sign that read "Deputy Dean's Office."