Inside the office.
George Adler took out a locked iron box from the bottommost drawer of his desk.
"The key," Charlotte said, concise and to the point.
George fished a small, delicate key from his pocket and handed it over.
Charlotte took the key and deftly opened the iron box.
Inside, a thick, leather-bound registry book lay quietly.
"Wouldn't it have been better to just take it out earlier?" Russell remarked from the side. "You insisted on making things so complicated."
George Adler's face flushed red, yet he didn't dare to retort even a single word. He could only stand off to the side like a student who had done something wrong, head bowed.
Charlotte paid no attention to the exchange between the two of them. She picked up the registry book and flipped through it rapidly.
Her reading speed was extremely fast, taking in ten lines at a glance, her fingers sliding swiftly across the yellowed pages, producing a "rustle, rustle" sound.
After a moment, she turned to the page for Section A-3 and her movements came to a halt.
"Twenty-seven clients in total." She glanced over the list, then closed the registry book and tossed it back to George.
"Help me pull up all the files on these twenty-seven people.
Including their names, ages, occupations, home addresses, marital status, as well as all their commercial transaction records over the past year.
You have one hour. I want it packed up to take away.
And if you can't manage it..."
She paused, then looked toward Russell, who, catching her meaning, picked up the telephone.
"I wouldn't mind helping you call in some people to lend a hand."
"I guarantee the task will be done, madam!" George said hastily.
One hour later.
Twenty-seven thick photocopied files had been organized.
Charlotte casually picked one up, flipped through it, and then put it back in place.
"Load these onto the carriage."
"Al... alright."
George nodded, then, forcing a smile, lifted the rather hefty box of files and carried it all the way to the doorway.
"Is... is there anything else, you two?"
"No—"
"Yes, of course there is."
Russell cut off Charlotte's words, then, under the other man's curious gaze, took out another envelope.
"I'm here to deposit money, do you still remember, Mr. George?"
"Of course... of course I remember." George nodded.
"Since you remember, then what are you still standing here for?" Russell asked.
"Or is my cash going to deposit itself into the bank?"
George looked at the thick wad of banknotes in Russell's hand and squeezed out a smile uglier than a grimace.
"I'll take care of it for you right away."
"Then I'll trouble you with it," Russell said, handing over the envelope as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "And remember to be quick about it, we're in a hurry."
Charlotte watched from the side, saying nothing, but a trace of amusement flickered in those gray-blue eyes.
George Adler took the wad of banknotes, not daring to be the slightest bit negligent, and personally led Russell to the VIP counter, processing his deposit at the fastest possible speed.
"There you are, sir." After stamping the final seal, George respectfully handed the deposit slip to Russell.
"Your transaction has been completed."
"Not bad efficiency," Russell said, putting away the deposit slip and nodding with satisfaction.
"If I could enjoy this kind of service every time I came, perhaps I'd consider depositing all my money here."
The corner of George's mouth twitched, and he could only keep up the smiling face.
"You're welcome anytime, sir."
The carriage slowly pulled away from Lloyds Bank.
Inside the cabin, Charlotte was leaning against the soft cushion, holding a file she had randomly pulled from that box, leisurely flipping through it.
Russell, meanwhile, sat across from her, also holding a file, idly turning the pages.
"You seem to really enjoy watching other people squirm," Charlotte said without turning her head.
"Same to you." Russell shrugged. "Just say whether it felt satisfying or not."
Charlotte didn't refute it; she merely let out a faint snort through her nose, which counted as tacit agreement.
"Come to think of it," Russell cast his gaze toward the file in her hands.
"Starting to read already? I thought you'd wait until we got back to deal with it all at once."
"Idle hands are idle hands either way," Charlotte turned a page. "Might as well make use of these scraps of time and see if anything unexpected turns up."
"So, any findings?"
"Not for the moment," Charlotte shook her head, casually tossing that file aside and picking up another.
"These people are all just merchants who do fairly large business, or nobles.
As for their résumés... the sort that can be written into something like this generally doesn't carry much reference value."
"Or perhaps The Professor just picked some poor unlucky devil at random from among these people?" Russell speculated.
"It's possible," Charlotte nodded, "but not very likely."
"Why?"
"Intuition."
Russell was momentarily at a loss for words. "I thought you'd give me a set of rigorous logical deductions."
"Sometimes, intuition is more reliable than logic."
Charlotte set down the file in her hand and rubbed her somewhat sore eyes.
"Especially when facing an opponent who likewise doesn't play by the rules."
She paused, turning her gaze out the window, watching the street scenery rapidly receding, and sank into deep thought.
"The Professor's target must hold some special significance.
Or rather, whatever is inside that safe is of vital importance to him.
Otherwise, after vanishing without a trace for a year, he wouldn't risk exposure to plan an operation like this."
"So aren't we basically fishing a needle out of the ocean right now?" Russell spread his hands.
"Twenty-seven people—who knows which one is the real target."
"That's precisely why we need to screen them," Charlotte withdrew her gaze, looking once more toward that box of files.
"The workload may be large, but it's not impossible to finish.
As long as we can find the one hidden, unique anomaly among them, all the problems will resolve themselves."
"Then good luck with that." Russell leaned back against the cushion. "At least while I'm off at school, you'll have something to keep yourself busy.
And by the way, I have no desire to waste my time on this."
"I wasn't counting on you, cat boy," Charlotte shot back.
"Can you even tell which information in there is useful and which is useless? If I had you do the data tabulation, you'd probably record even meaningless data like gender right along with everything else."
"So... why do you call me that?" Russell asked, puzzled.
At his words, Charlotte raised an eyebrow, lifting her gaze from the files to rest on Russell's face.
"You don't know?"
She countered, looking somewhat surprised.
"I rather wish I did know," Russell said. "What do I have to do with cats?"
"Now that, I wouldn't know," Charlotte shrugged, then started to laugh.
"If you don't know, then never mind."
"Hey, don't be like that, Charlotte." Russell rolled his eyes.
"At least tell me what's going on, won't you?"
"It's a secret~"
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