Lucian opened a red gate at the end of the fog barrier surrounding the Black Index headquarters, and behind the illusory door lay Brasshall Road, a hub of business headquarters.
Upon leaving the door, the first thing awaiting him was an oddly bright red mailbox, which required a coin to open the door leading back to the Black Index.
At first glance, Lucian found it magical in nature. But now that he understood certain things about the hidden world of Librarians and Unreads, he could not help but wonder if this thing was also an Unread.
‘I hope it's just a dumb, oddly coloured mailbox and not someone controlling the door.’
He harboured a small hope, though deep inside he knew it might very well be the truth.
“Should we move on now?”
A patient voice drew Lucian’s attention. Beside the mailbox stood a lady with delicate features and an extremely professional expression, waiting for him. Of course, it was Miss Ruby, the Underpage from the morning.
‘Ah, you again.’ Lucian frowned slightly upon seeing her.
After the conversation with Seraphine, she had suggested that Lucian should live in a rental apartment, which would grant him freedom of movement. Lucian had wanted that from the start, so he accepted her offer almost as soon as the words left Seraphine’s mouth.
And now it was time to settle into a new house, and a new life.
Noticing the lady still waiting, Lucian smiled politely.
“Were you able to secure a good apartment?”
Ruby nodded without expression or any desire to elaborate, if that brief motion could even be called an answer.
Leaving the door behind, Lucian bent to pick up a new briefcase prepared for him, so as not to give his new landlord any suspicious ideas. Then he noticed something odd behind him.
The door that had served as the entrance to the Black Index headquarters had been replaced by an office. There was even a name board: “Blackwell Appraisal House.”
“...” Lucian fell momentarily silent.
‘Do these people realise this office door has been used as an entrance to some bizarre dimension?’
Noticing his silence, Ruby shook her head.
“This business is the public face the Black Index uses to conceal its operations. It also gives us an excuse to employ people like you and provide you with a separate identity in society. In fact, the residence is also registered under the company name and assigned to you as its employee,” she explained.
‘I see. That makes sense. And I suppose it is easier to conceal things behind the pretext of investigating valuable artifacts if matters spiral out of control.’
Lucian nodded in understanding.
Brasshall Road was one of the major business hubs, so it was easy for them to find a carriage. The only downside was that such areas offered only horse drawn carriages.
After boarding, Ruby informed the coachman of their destination: Morland Street, Unit 7.
Inside the carriage, Miss Ruby sat elegantly. If Lucian had not previously seen her poking Mr. Tigerman’s nose with a twig, he would have considered her a perfect attendant.
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Now, however, his gaze searched for any trace of mischief behind her polite mask. Fortunately, he found none.
The carriage soon arrived at Morland Street, an area lined with decently sized houses for the upper middle class, society neatly divided by wealth.
It stopped before a respectable two-storey building of moderate size, his new home, at least for the next few years.
Lucian stepped out of the carriage, but Ruby remained seated. She handed him a wallet filled with cash and a piece of paper describing a script of all the lies he was to tell the landlord.
In large cities like Rivengate, it was common for tenants to fail to pay their rent, as most newcomers came from various regions seeking work in a city known for fulfilling dreams.
Thus, most landlords required three months’ advance payment, rent at the beginning of each month, and conducted a personal interview as well.
Of course, Lucian knew none of these details. Everything had been written on the paper Ruby had given him.
He sighed, picked up his briefcase, and walked toward the main door.
He rang the doorbell, and a maid answered. Among the upper middle class, employing household staff was quite common. Not only did it signify status, but in cities where earning money was becoming increasingly difficult, many young women were grateful to accept positions that provided lodging, meals, and additional income.
The young maid bowed deeply before asking the reason for his visit.
“I believe the company must have informed you in advance of my arrival. I am here to rent an apartment.”
The maid nodded and escorted him to a separate sitting area near the entrance for visiting guests. After offering him a glass of water, she left to inform the owners.
Moments later, a couple approached him, following the maid.
The man had a clean-shaven face, slight wrinkles around his eyes, and wore a three-piece suit with a long hat. The lady, on the other hand, wore a designer dress, her makeup carefully applied to conceal the signs of age.
Their attire might have seemed excessive for their own home, but in societies such as these, appearance mattered just as much as wealth, perhaps even more.
Lucian stood upon seeing them approach and greeted them.
“Mr. Gray, I was indeed informed of your arrival. But I must say, I did not expect you to be so young and already possess such a well-paying job,” said the lady, Madam Marianne Everly, after accepting his greeting.
“Yes, I agree. You are indeed too young for the position of an accountant,” Mr. Julian Everly added.
“Ah, you are too kind. I was simply fortunate to have my skills recognised early,” Lucian replied smoothly, having been trained in various disciplines and thus able to speak without appearing arrogant.
Of course, his new identity was Lucian Gray, a young man from Siba Harbour whose talent in accounting had been recognised, earning him an offer from Blackwell Appraisal House, a vast business that began as an item appraisal shop and grew into one of the city’s largest auction houses.
A perfect disguise for the Black Index to continue its secret operations beneath the surface while maintaining steady funding.
“You must be a valuable employee. They even paid three months’ rent on your behalf,” Madam Everly said with a polite smile, covering her face modestly.
The conversation then shifted to Mr. Everly’s interest in the details of Lucian’s supposed work, which Lucian answered with sufficient knowledge and common sense.
In the end, they happily accepted him as their tenant. After all, a company’s guarantee was more reassuring than that of an ordinary family.
The maid then guided him to his apartment.
It was located on the second floor, accessible by a separate staircase distinct from the main house.
The apartment was small by Lucian’s standards, but far larger than the one he had inhabited during the three years inside the illusion.
He found himself in quiet inner conflict over whether he liked it or not. Eventually, he gave up and accepted what stood before him.
After the maid left, he closed the door and unpacked his clothes from the briefcase — all provided by the Black Index, including two spare sets.
He first took a bath in the attached bathroom and changed into trousers and a white shirt.
He studied himself in the mirror. Dark circles lingered beneath his pale face, black hair still dripping with water.
At that moment, various emotions stirred within him. So much had happened in the past few days.
Just days ago, he had been living inside an illusion, frustrated by his life and that persistent dream. Then he was chased by an Unread, saved by undercover members of the Black Index, awakened his Codex, regained his past memories, killed six Librarians, and even hunted an Unread.
He sighed. Then, in a soft murmur, he said,
“I am home now, Prologue.”
With that, he raised his left hand, and his Codex appeared above it.
Its pages turned on their own before stopping at the only page filled with writing.
“Chapter 1: A Song of Love and Sorrow.”
