Chapter 712: Chapter 487: Small Skilled Hand for Getting Rich (Part 1)_1

In the manor, the afternoon sun shone through the window onto the carpet. Each tiny fuzz on the carpet was clearly visible. Shoes stepped on the edge of the carpet, and Butler Merkel, dressed in a shirt, leaned forward, reaching across the table to remove the globe from the shelf.

The globe hadn't been used in a while, a layer of dust had settled on its surface. Merkel took out a cloth and gently wiped the surface of the globe. At that moment, he heard footsteps behind him, and upon turning around, he found Shiller had walked in.

"Good afternoon, sir... oh, what's that?" Merkel greeted routinely at first, then with a hint of confusion, he looked at the item Shiller was carrying.

"Yesterday, Victor and I went to an antique shop in the West District and found something interesting," Shiller said, swinging the object in his hand, making a clattering noise.

It was a wooden frame with many small wooden beads. Shiller shook it, and Merkel immediately recognized it. "Is this... an abacus? Why would you be interested in something like this?"

"An abacus, an ancient computation tool. I prefer it to a calculator. The sound of the colliding abacus beads is far more pleasant than the synthesized electronic noise of a calculator," Shiller explained.

As he spoke, Shiller sat behind the table, fiddling with the abacus, squinting at the wall clock. Merkel stepped aside, ensuring his view wouldn't be obstructed by Shiller's sightline.

However, Shiller just glanced at the clock before lowering his head to play with the wooden abacus.

It was clear that the abacus was an antique, but fortunately, the patina on the wood made it smoother to the touch. Shiller rested his head on one hand while his other ceaselessly manipulated the beads.

After observing for a while, Merkel noticed that Shiller wasn't merely fiddling with the abacus indiscriminately. It seemed as though he was genuinely calculating something, his hands never ceasing their movements, words silently passing his lips.

Merkel found that his employer was becoming increasingly eccentric. Beyond the changes in his habits and lifestyle, there was also his shift in personal interests. Previously, he had treasured the globe, yet one day, he had cast it aside. Instead, a staff, once barely utilized, was now frequently in his grasp, its top-end paint worn away from use.

That day, he somehow managed to acquire an abacus, seeming to have learned bead arithmetic and intending to use this ancient method of calculation.

"Sir, if the matters you're calculating are significant, I could fetch a calculator for you. I'm not questioning your abilities in bead arithmetic, but a single mistake in numerical matters often leads to one hundred others. Should you make an error, it may take a significant portion of your time to correct..." Merkel suggested.

"It's okay, it's not an important matter." Shiller continued to manipulate the abacus, making it clatter. "I'm just practicing bead arithmetic in preparation for the possible incoming peak of calculations..."

"Peak of calculations?" Merkel was confused. Just as Shiller looked at the clock again, the doorbell rang.

Merkel, somewhat startled, listened for a moment before quickly walking to the door and peeking downstairs. "I thought we didn't have any appointments today?" he said.

"Indeed. Because the person who arrived doesn't understand the concept of making appointments," Shiller replied.

Merkel put the globe down and walked downstairs. There, he found a figure lazily leaning against the door. He didn't even need to get closer to know that, apart from Constantine, there would be no one else.

"Good morning, Merkel. Is Shiller in?" Constantine didn't act like a guest and walked right in, leaving Butler Merkel to follow him.

"Mr. Constantine, you must make an appointment over the phone first. Only then would I know if Mr. Shiller has time today. If you don't make an appointment and Shiller happens to be busy, wouldn't you have made a wasted trip?" Merkel chided.

"Enough!" Constantine waved his hand dismissively. "What could he possibly be busy with? Eating, sleeping, polishing that damn umbrella of his. He only works four hours a day. He spends the remaining twenty hours shut in his study, researching conspiracies..."

"You'd better not say that." Merkel followed after Constantine, but the latter walked with long strides. He crossed the courtyard, climbed the staircase and quickly arrived at Shiller's study.

Shiller was still sitting behind the desk, fiddling with the abacus. When Constantine walked in, Shiller didn't even lift his eyes, merely pointing to the chair across from him.

Constantine flipped the hem of his coat and sat down. Shiller gave Merkel a glance. Merkel first pulled the curtain, then shut the door and stood in front of the table.

Constantine looked at him and said, "Next, we need to have some private discussions..."

Merkel gestured for him to proceed and stood still. Constantine stared at him, clicked his tongue, and said, "My conversation with your boss may involve confidential information. Don't you think you should..."

"Sir, as an English gentleman, you should know that a butler does not 'exist' in this manor. At any given time," Merkel countered proudly.

With a sigh of resignation, Constantine turned to Shiller, who was still nonchalant, fiddling with his abacus. When Constantine glanced back at Merkel, he was met with a perfectly polite British smile.

"Alright, let's get down to the matter of my payment now," Constantine demanded, finger tapping on the table.

Finally, Shiller stopped playing with the abacus. He opened a drawer of his desk and took out a file. He handed it to Constantine and said, "This is the account details. Take a look and tell me if there are any problems."

Constantine accepted the file. After a glance at the first page, he froze. He pointed at a line of text and said: "Reimbursing Unit... the Green Lantern Corps? What does this mean?"

Shiller replied without even glancing upwards, "Exactly what it says."

"So, you're saying that my salary comes from the Green Lantern Corps?"

"No, I pay your salary. However, I request reimbursement from the Green Lantern Corps. Don't forget, I am one of the Green Lanterns. The costs of any strategic actions I undertake should be paid by the Green Lantern Corps Headquarters," Shiller clarified.

Constantine's jaw dropped, he said, "So, you're telling me that it's part of your strategic plan to entangle the first batch of Green Lanterns, herd them into the central roundabout when the second batch arrives, and then launch a surprise attack on Deputy Carol, and you plan on getting the Green Lantern Corps Headquarters to reimburse you for the costs of this plan?"

"Correct, I was already a member of the Green Lantern Corps before this plan was implemented. I was a legitimate Green Lantern, and the rules in the ring state that the Green Lantern Corps would pay for all expenses incurred in the course of maintaining law and order in one's responsible sector. Any problem with that?"

"You..." Constantine unusually found himself at a loss for words. He thought hard, even the muscles on his face straining in thought. After pondering for a long while, he finally blurted out a question:

"Don't you feel like a jerk?"

"Keep on reading," Shiller continued to focus on his calculations.

Constantine silenced the myriad of thoughts racing through his mind, lowered his head again, scanning the account statement. He mumbled to himself as he read, "Attendance fee...travel expenses...time charge...Are all these calculated based on the energy of the Green Lantern Ring? It seems fine, attendance fee costs the energy of 20 Green Lantern Rings? Acceptable..."

"Wait!" Constantine suddenly cried out.

"Damage to 380,000 magical tools??? One, ten, hundred, thousand, ten thousand...380,000??!!"

Constantine stretched out his fingers to count, then he looked up at Shiller and said, "You just made this up, right?"

Shiller also looked up at him, staring straight into his eyes. Constantine suddenly hesitated and asked, "… Right?"

Shiller looked at him without saying anything. Constantine closed his eyes, massaged the bridge of his nose, put down the statement, and then looked at Shiller, "I believed you had a basic understanding of magic."

"On the entire Earth...oh, no, according to their definition, in its sector, the total number of items called magic tools probably wouldn't exceed 38."

"I've said it before, magic comes with a price, a hefty one. You can't hire a devil to forge a divine artifact for free. Even the most ordinary enchanted weapon might cost you your soul..."

"Even those magicians who have their own mage towers in the rift space, owning a real magic tool would be a great accomplishment, while wandering mages like me don't have a single one."

Shiller just stared at him silently. After a while, Constantine finally capitulated, "Alright, I have one or two, but I've kept them hidden."

Shiller kept staring, and Constantine sighed with frustration, "Five, just five, including the pots, pans, and utensils for making magic pigments..."

Shiller raised his eyebrows, and Constantine looked back. Finally, Constantine raised his arms in surrender, "OK! OK! I probably have about 600 hidden away..."

"But you have to understand, my situation is special. I'm good at making friends, whether in Heaven or Hell, I have plenty of good friends. They heard about my relocation and were happy to help. Some even do business with me, just like you, so I receive some remuneration..."

"But, most magicians in this world don't even have a handy weapon. Regardless, 380,000 is an exaggerated figure!"

"Who are you?" Shiller suddenly asked this question.

"Who am I? I'm Constantine. Who else could I be?"

"No, I mean your title."

"Oh, I have a title called Hell Detective. But I've told you before, I'm not a detective. The emphasis on Hell Detective is hell."

"What about your reputation?"

Constantine gave Shiller a 'you're asking just to tease me' look, Shiller said, "That's right, it's terrible."

"A fresh, green lantern named Shiller Rodriguez just began his career facing the hellish difficulty of Gotham City, but with righteousness in his heart, he formulated a series of plans aiming to save this place."

"At the beginning of this plan, he drew about half of the total energy from the Lantern Furnace. But he realized that it still wasn't enough to make a notable difference. Therefore, he had no choice but to draw checks against an overdrawn account, employing numerous capable celebrities, including you, Constantine."

"And because of your bad reputation, it's pretty normal for you to ask for quite a sum, right?"

"But how could they agree to such an apparent extortion?"

"But if they don't agree, you've got a reason to rob, right? After all, you're a jerk."

"I..." Constantine got choked up. He said, "I admit I'm a jerk, but I'm not THAT bad. Often times, I do honor contracts. You're tarnishing my professional reputation, you..."

"One-tenth more if we succeed."

"Two-tenths!"

"Deal."

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