Gun of Ashes

”What’s going on?”

Lorenzo asked curiously, it seemed Mrs. Van Rudd was waiting for his return.

”You have a temporary assignment.”

A voice came from the other side, Lorenzo turned sharply, he hadn’t realized there was someone sitting by the door.

”Selyu?”

Lorenzo exclaimed.

The girl nodded, wrapped in a thick coat on the sofa, a corner of her pure white dress peeked out, decorated with exquisite lace and patterns. She seemed unaccustomed to high heels, having taken them off, and placed the white heels on the other side of the sofa.

”...So what is it all about?”

Lorenzo took a deep breath, his voice tinged with helplessness and exhaustion, akin to working all day only to come home and be faced with an even bigger trouble.

”You have an hour to prepare yourself; I hope you won’t disgrace the Stuart family.”

An elderly but heavy voice came from behind Lorenzo; it was Yawei.

The old butler wore a look of disdain, a familiar expression Lorenzo thought he’d seen somewhere before... Oh, yes! It was Duke Phoenix, sharing the same expression and hostility.

”Wait, what’s going on?”

Rarely did Yawei not greet Lorenzo by pointing a gun at his head, yet from his expression, it seemed Lorenzo was in even bigger trouble.

Lorenzo’s mind raced, he seemed to have missed something, his gaze returned to Selyu, whose cold demeanor had changed slightly. Her face had a touch of color... wait, it wasn’t a natural flush; she’d put on makeup.

Her loose light gold hair was tied up, adorned with exquisite jewelry, pearls, and silver chains, like a platter of precious metals.

The hapless detective seemed to have realized something, but before he could speak, Yawei provided the answer.

”I hope the outfit fits you, and even if it doesn’t, I hope you bear with it.”

Saying this, Yawei tossed over a set of clothes, looking respectful, but his demeanor implied no goodwill.

It was an evening gown, its smooth texture and intricate craftsmanship equivalent to several months’ rent.

”But...”

Lorenzo had never witnessed such a scene; he was briefly speechless, but soon more attendants entered from behind the door, fussing over Lorenzo’s attire. Their professionalism showed as they remained unfazed even when encountering the Winchester beneath his coat.

More attendants pressed Lorenzo into a chair, combing the hair flattened by his deerstalker hat, spraying skincare products onto his weathered face, hoping to rejuvenate his appearance somewhat.

Selyu didn’t say much, merely wore a cold smile, which Lorenzo knew was her habitual expression, but now looked like cold mockery.

”Mr. Holmes, if there were other options, I honestly wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

Seeing Lorenzo encircled, Yawei calmly began to speak.

Other options? Considering Selyu’s odd smile, Lorenzo guessed he was the sole candidate on the list.

”So what exactly do you want to do?”

Strange perfume lingered on Lorenzo, its intoxicating scent affecting him—he really disliked it as it distracted him.

”It’s a party, I need a dance partner.”

Selyu spoke leisurely then, resting her face on her hand, watching everything with interest.

Lorenzo in such a state was rare; she’d seen many sides of him during their reckless times, but never like this.

”So you don’t think consulting me about my opinion is necessary?”

The attendant tightened Lorenzo’s belt, surprisingly, this detective had gained a few pounds over time.

”So Mr. Holmes, what do you think?”

Yawei asked.

Lorenzo turned his head and rolled his eyes, the large-caliber Revolver pressed against his head; these people hadn’t intended to consult him.

”Ah...”

After pondering for a moment, Lorenzo nodded in reluctant acquiescence.

Yawei then clapped his hands and loudly asserted,

”Hurry up, you have one hour to dress this stray dog into someone presentable.”

Hence, the attendants intensified the work, applying expensive cosmetics to Lorenzo’s face, weathered by Old Dunling’s biting winds.

The truth was, Lorenzo was still quite young; due to Secret Blood, the constitution of all Demon Hunters was enhanced, this enhancement extending life expectancy; theoretically, a Demon Hunter could live over two hundred years, though few met peaceful ends due to battles with Demons.

Countless brushes swept across his face, and the mirror reflected a stray dog, shaven of its dirty fur, revealing its rugged features.

Staring at his youthful reflection, Lorenzo suddenly remembered he was still in prime youth.

Lorenzo grew up an orphan, unaware of his exact age, but after being adopted by the Church, life milestones were set for him; adoption became his birthday, age determined by doctors’ estimates.

Lorenzo, along with other orphans, was honed as Demon Hunters from the start—in essence, weapons. Weapons weren’t supposed to think independently, so initially, Lorenzo had no name, only a series of numbers. After Secret Blood transplantation at seventeen, he gained something akin to a name, or rather a codename.

Piecing the timeline backward, Lorenzo realized eight years had passed since his Secret Blood implantation, meaning he was now twenty-five.

For a moment, he felt both sentimental and regretful as he gazed at himself in the mirror.

Since becoming a Demon Hunter, normal life had vanished for Lorenzo; pondering this, a sense of melancholy emerged, yet Lorenzo fiercely pushed these thoughts aside, deciding not to dwell on unhappy matters—no need to be at odds with oneself.

”So why me?”

Lorenzo asked; encircled by attendants, talking to himself.

”No suitable candidates; this is a regular gathering of aristocrats, with an underlying purpose of family alliance, influencing my coming-of-age ceremony.”

Selyu’s voice came through the gaps in the attendants.

”But you still have a month, right?”

”Yes, but I will go to the Platinum Palace to inherit the title then, and these people wish to forge relations in advance.”

Lorenzo seemed to conjecture something.

”Is the dinner you skipped the same kind?”

Selyu didn’t respond, but Lorenzo imagined she’d nod coldly.

”Miss Selyu represents the entire Stuart group, and we do not wish to support any side in aristocratic disputes, preferring neutrality... at least temporarily, approaching any faction’s aristocracy would cause others to be wary, possibly hostile. Thus, the ideal approach is maintaining distance from everyone.”

Yawei’s voice leisurely sounded, seemingly suggesting intrigues were silently brewing among the aristocrats.

”But there’ll always be someone with ulterior motives trying to approach, so...”

”Why not simply find a scapegoat to attract attention?”

Lorenzo cursed, comprehending the situation.

No matter whom Selyu partnered with symbolized Stuart’s stance; even sitting to eat fruit drew suitors. Instead of doing so, it’s better to complicate matters by bringing a non-aristocrat into the scene; a non-aristocrat signified no stance, at most suggesting Selyu’s sociability.

What cunning calculations! Lorenzo could already foresee the eyes wishing to tear him apart.

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