Chapter 58: Pollo Mapple's "First Arrival"!

At noon, Old Tom drove his own carriage into the kingdom's capital, Hessatins.

Old Tom wasn’t a full-time coachman; he was an innkeeper.

Late last night, a gentleman carrying a wicker suitcase knocked on his inn’s door, chose the best room in the inn, and even gave him a tip of 1 gold coin.

This left a strong impression on Old Tom.

He was firmly convinced that this was a true gentleman.

After all, what else could you call someone who spoke gently and tipped generously?

So, when the gentleman offered 5 gold coins for him to double as a coachman to Hessatins, Old Tom agreed without hesitation.

Besides, his wife and two sons could manage the inn without him.

And 5 gold coins were not a small amount for Old Tom.

An ordinary person might not earn that much in a week of hard work.

Especially for a round trip that would only take a day, it was more than worth it.

So, Old Tom eagerly asked the gentleman as he stepped off the carriage,

“Mr. Mapple, do you have any further instructions?”

As he spoke, Old Tom took down the wicker suitcase for the gentleman.

“You’ve already done more than enough,”

“The rest I can handle myself.”

“Thank you again for your help.”

Goethe took the suitcase with a smile and waved his hand before turning to head toward a nearby carriage rental shop—"Simerick Private Carriage Rentals," the sign read, with smaller text in an inconspicuous spot stating: Specializing in Carriage Rentals for 30 Years.

Watching the gentleman’s figure disappear into the shop, Old Tom couldn’t help but sigh.

“A gentleman like Mr. Mapple naturally deserves a carriage that matches his status. My carriage is really too shabby.”

Old Tom looked at his rather simple carriage with a clear understanding of its limitations.

But the innkeeper wasn’t discouraged.

He was quite pleased.

The fare Goethe paid was enough for him to buy something for his wife and sons. Last year when they were in Hessatins, his wife had been eyeing a particular hat for quite a while.

His eldest son had spent a long time staring at a poetry collection.

He would buy both for them.

As for his youngest son?

A couple of candies would be the perfect treat.

And for himself?

He didn’t need anything—his family’s happiness was his greatest joy.

With these thoughts, the innkeeper drove his carriage toward the market.

Life is full of ups and downs.

But it also has its little surprises.

They are the gifts of fate.

Making life’s hardships a little less long and dark.

At least, there’s a bit of sweetness.

Goethe was eating the snacks prepared by the carriage shop owner, finding the pudding in his hand quite sweet. When Goethe clearly stated that he wanted to rent the best carriage and coachman for a month and mentioned that he hadn’t had lunch yet, the shop owner immediately served afternoon tea.

“Mr. Mapple, is this your first time in Hessatins?”

The shop owner inquired.

“Yes, I’ve been traveling in other countries until now.”

“Recently, I hit a creative block, so I decided to come to Hessatins for inspiration.”

Goethe responded with the prepared answer.

“Then you’ve definitely come to the right place!”

“Hessatins is the best country!”

The shop owner said proudly.

“Yes, at least before, I had to be extremely cautious, making a large detour and passing through many deserted areas just to avoid bandits—it’s something I won’t soon forget.”

Goethe nodded, speaking in a calm tone.

Immediately, the shop owner became embarrassed.

“Cough, cough, well, some of the surrounding areas are unavoidable, but within Hessatins, it’s absolutely saf…”

“Extra! Extra!”

“Special edition!”

“Murder at ‘Saints’ Hospital!”

The sudden shout of the newsboy cut off the shop owner’s words.

He looked even more embarrassed as he turned to Goethe.

“Sometimes, unexpected things happen, right?”

He said, winking at Goethe.

“Of course!”

“But I hope our business won’t have any unexpected surprises—I’d like you to recommend a reliable agent. I need a butler, a maid, and a house that’s secure enough.”

Goethe smiled as he spoke.

However, he emphasized the word "secure."

“Absolutely secure, no problem.”

“And the price?”

The shop owner asked.

"As long as it’s reasonable."

Following that character, Goethe crafted the identity of a travel writer who valued quality of life, possessed a modest fortune, but wasn’t someone to be easily fooled.

"Leave it to me."

"And about the butler..."

"No need for a butler!"

"I find it hard to trust an outsider in my household... no need for a butler. I'll hire one later if necessary."

Before the carriage owner could finish speaking, Goethe interrupted him.

Goethe hesitated, then quickly changed the subject.

The carriage owner seemed to ponder this.

Afterward, the carriage owner brought Goethe some refreshments and personally went to handle those trivial matters.

The carriage owner had only seen such caution regarding a butler among the old aristocracy.

Aristocracy!

Even a declining noble family was worthy of respect.

This tradition, preserved in Hessetings for hundreds of years, had not changed despite the rise of new nobility in the last decade or so.

It was deeply ingrained, like a dying tree.

Its leaves appeared yellow, but its roots were still strong, even though they were infested with pests.

Goethe watched the carriage owner’s retreating figure and smiled faintly.

From the owner’s newly changed attitude, it seemed his portrayal had been successful.

At the very least, the refreshments were better now than before.

The tea was sweet and sour, likely a lemon tea with honey added.

The dessert was sweeter, a whole piece of cake without cream but with added nuts, making the texture more complex—Goethe liked it a lot. By the time the carriage owner returned with an agent, Goethe had already finished the entire cake.

"Mr. Marple, this is the best agent I know!"

"He has the finest connections in all of Hessetings!"

The carriage owner introduced him.

Of course, such words were an exaggeration.

If the agent truly had such connections, he wouldn’t have shown up so easily.

But Goethe didn’t point that out.

"Poirot Marple."

Goethe introduced himself.

"Hunter. You can call me Hunter."

"Do you have any specific requirements for the male or female servants?"

"As for the house, I dare say you'll be absolutely satisfied!"

Hunter was a short, young man, but he appeared somewhat chubby. When he bowed, his seemingly well-fitted suit instantly became full of wrinkles, especially around the buttons, which looked ready to pop off.

"A normal male servant will do."

"As for the maid... it would be best if she can cook."

Goethe stated his requirements.

"Understood!"

"Shall we go see your house first?"

Hunter asked with a beaming smile.

"Sure."

Goethe nodded.

Then, he boarded the recently rented carriage.

It was pulled by two tall horses, with a well-dressed coachman. The carriage itself was black with gilded edges, exuding an air of understated luxury. Inside, there was a liquor cabinet, a food cabinet, and a small bookshelf adorned with a green potted plant on one side of the door.

It was far superior to Old Tom’s carriage in every way.

Naturally, the price reflected that. Including the coachman, the rental cost was 7 gold crowns per day, with service from 8 AM to 10 PM daily. If other arrangements were needed, they had to be made in advance. There was no need to worry about the coachman’s meals or lodging. If any of the carriage's interior items were damaged, they would need to be paid for, with a 10 gold crown deposit required.

After signing the contract, the rental period began that day.

The carriage was steady and fast.

The coachman demonstrated his skill.

Until a figure suddenly dashed out from a nearby alley.

The coachman barely managed to rein in the horses and angrily shouted at the person who had run out.

"Idiot!"

But the next moment, the coachman’s voice jumped an octave.

"What are you doing?!"

The person who had rushed out of the alley, after picking himself up from the ground, headed straight for the carriage with a dagger in hand. The coachman grabbed the whip beside him.

But before the coachman could bring down the whip, the man raised his hands.

Because—

A revolver had emerged from the carriage window, pointing directly at him.

*(End of Chapter)*