*Chapter 65: Lunch...?*

At dawn, Goethe stretched his body as he stood up after completing another writing task. He picked up the freshly completed manuscript and quickly scanned it. Satisfied that he hadn’t missed any typos, he headed downstairs with the draft in hand. Just because he couldn't find any mistakes didn't mean others wouldn't. After learning that Maria was literate, Goethe had entrusted her with the secondary proofreading task.

The butler, ever diligent, followed closely behind Goethe until he was certain there were no further instructions. Only then did he return to his quarters to rest.

Breakfast consisted of fried eggs, toast, salad, and milk. And then there was a bowl of…

Soup.

Dark, murky, and filled with the scent of herbs.

This was Maria’s special "blood-replenishing soup."

Three days ago, after Goethe returned to 11 Kimmel Street in the morning, the major newspapers in Hessetins had printed an extra edition covering the incident at the Summer Club. They also rehashed the earlier story of his brave resistance against extortion.

In short, Goethe's objective was achieved.

The series of events had made him a hot topic in Hessetins.

In this era, what could earn someone fame more quickly than being featured in the newspaper?

Naturally, being featured in the newspaper repeatedly!

Especially when the ongoing coverage highlighted contradictions, Goethe was bound to attract even more attention.

Of course, Goethe had done his best not to make himself unlikeable!

That’s why he chose the Summer Club.

And not…

A bank.

Although the reputation meter didn’t specify whether it was positive or negative, Goethe opted for a positive approach to more safely and smoothly connect with "extraordinary beings." In fact, when he first saw the reputation meter, Goethe had considered doing something grand. But he ultimately decided against it.

Firstly, it went against his moral principles.

Secondly, if this "secret realm" had an organization similar to the "Keepers," he likely wouldn't survive.

Thanks to his careful groundwork, everything had unfolded as Goethe had anticipated, including some newspapers pointing out his difficulty in shedding the negative habits of the aristocracy.

Far from being angered by such criticisms, Goethe, having been seasoned by the media back home, was quite pleased.

He knew well that the key to staying relevant was not fearing criticism but rather being ignored.

As a result, he planned to discuss with his editor how to "gently" rebut those accusations.

Ideally, he wanted the criticism to persist for a good ten days or so.

Of course, not everything went according to plan.

For instance…

Maria’s "blood-replenishing soup."

Bitter, difficult to swallow, it sapped all enjoyment from the meal.

Especially since Maria served it at every meal.

"Maria, I’m already fully recovered!" Goethe reminded her again after pinching his nose and downing the so-called "blood-replenishing soup."

"Yes, Master," the maid replied almost automatically, her attention entirely focused on proofreading the manuscript.

Undoubtedly, if there was lunch, the "blood-replenishing soup" would reappear.

"Maybe I should go out for lunch?" Goethe mused.

Maria, meanwhile, spent half an hour painstakingly going through the manuscript, reading it word by word.

"Master, there are 17 typos in total, mainly where Mr. Holmes refers to several suspects. It should be 'he,' not 'it'..." Maria pointed out the errors meticulously before taking up her pen to make corrections.

After helping Goethe with proofreading, Maria had earned the right to make changes. Once the corrections were completed, she handed the manuscript back to Goethe.

"Please review it again."

"Also..."

"These are invitations from the surrounding neighbors. Among them, Mrs. Wood is a very respected person on Kimmel Street. Her afternoon teas and parties are highly anticipated—her husband, Mr. Wood, owns two textile factories, a sugar refinery, and a transportation fleet."

The maid carefully presented a stack of invitations.

"Hmm, when is this invitation from Mrs. Wood?" Goethe asked.

"This Saturday evening, starting at six."

"Alright, I will attend."

Goethe nodded. Since he was living on Kimmel Street under the identity of Poirot. Marple, participating in certain activities was essential. Only by doing so could he truly integrate into the environment.

Goethe was well aware of this.

"I will inform Mrs. Wood's maid."

"Since you’ve decided to attend the party, you should pick a small gift."

"Based on the previous party standards, the value should be around 20-30 coins."

"Would you like me to prepare it for you?"

Maria was evidently a competent maid, attentive to every detail.

Naturally, Goethe didn’t refuse.

However, this didn't dissuade Goethe from his intention to go out for a meal.

"I need to visit the newspaper office; there are some things I need to discuss with the editor."

"I won’t be back for lunch."

"As for dinner..."

"Most likely, I won’t be back for that either."

As Goethe spoke, he grabbed the manuscript and his coat, heading out.

"Rick, to the Hesstings Daily office."

After getting into the carriage, Goethe gave a direct order.

"Yes, sir."

The coachman flicked the reins, and the carriage immediately set off.

The meeting with the editor was naturally pleasant—no editor dislikes an author who submits manuscripts ahead of time.

So, when Goethe requested to have a gentle communication with those who criticized him, it was not refused.

"In fact, Poirot, even if you hadn’t asked, we would still have communicated with those guys."

"Your 'Adventures in the Wild' is very popular now, with a unique style and content never seen before. You know, before you, for a long time, most adventure stories were about farm cattle theft, battles with thieves and bandits; the best ones were about techniques for hiding cattle, and that’s about it!"

"Now your novel has emerged, and it’s like creating a whole new genre!"

"Witcher Holmes and his guide, Dr. Watson, are simply amazing!"

The editor, Merry, said.

"So, those guys came with malicious intent?"

Goethe keenly noticed the underlying meaning in Merry’s words.

"Of course!"

"Jealousy is a cardinal sin!"

Merry nodded affirmatively.

"Is that so?"

"Then I’ll leave it to you. Please inform me if there are any results!"

Goethe said as he took his leave from his editor.

This situation was still within Goethe's expectations.

As Merry had mentioned, jealousy is a cardinal sin.

He just hoped that those people would abide by the rules and not cross the line.

Otherwise...

He would choose to resolve the issue in his own way.

Then, Goethe shook his head, pushing these bothersome thoughts out of his mind. Now, there was only one thing left in his head: a sumptuous lunch without 'blood-replenishing soup.'

"Rick, take me to the highest-rated restaurant nearby."

"Yes, sir."

The carriage moved forward once more.

Soon, they arrived at the destination.

After inviting Rick, who politely declined, Goethe wasted no time and hurriedly jogged over, pushed open the restaurant door, and walked straight in.

But at that moment, a scream rang out—

"Ahhh!"

"The chef is dead!"

(End of Chapter)