Just before the door opened, the maid almost desperately rushed to the window and then curled up behind the curtains.
Immediately afterward, she felt as though she had run into a wall.
More precisely, it was a breathing, warm, and even clothed wall.
The maid's pupils contracted sharply. Then she awkwardly raised her head.
A figure dressed in black and wearing a white mask was looking down at her.
The maid instinctively wanted to scream.
But before she could, a hand rose and covered her mouth.
Russell extended his other hand and raised his index finger in front of the mask's lips.
——Shhh.
The maid was startled at first, but then nodded.
Russell withdrew his hand and took the opportunity to observe her.
Young, early twenties, with a faint trace of childishness remaining on her cheeks.
Her apron pocket was bulging, with the tips of several cigars protruding.
The silver flask in her hand was exquisitely made—clearly belonging to the master.
She's a repeat offender.
He defined her in his mind.
"First time?"
He asked in a whisper only the two of them could hear.
The maid was momentarily at a loss for words before realizing what he was asking.
She hesitated for about half a second, then shook her head.
She nodded again.
Seeing this, Russell smiled.
This is interesting.
The footsteps outside the door had already entered the study.
The maid's body began to tremble. Unconsciously, she tugged at Russell's sleeve.
Seeing this, Russell raised one eyebrow.
He reached out and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. The pressure was light but sufficient to stop the trembling.
The maid instinctively turned toward Russell, but Russell did not look at her. He simply kept his hand on her shoulder. The meaning was clear.
Don't move.
Perhaps out of survival instinct, she actually understood what it meant. Her body tensed, pressing against the wall, and she remained completely still.
Just then, footsteps sounded again. Judging by the sound, they were pacing back and forth inside the study.
Each step was rhythmically spaced, neither too loud nor too soft—kept at a level that wouldn't disturb anyone.
Russell listened to the voice and judged the person's direction of movement, roughly confirming the newcomer's identity.
It must be the housekeeper coming for a routine inspection.
Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, then started moving again—this time toward the window.
They drew closer and closer, becoming clearer.
The maid, who had only just begun to calm down, felt her heart start pounding violently again. She unconsciously let go of Russell's clothes and closed her eyes.
Russell did not move an inch.
With just a little thought, the sound of malice points being deducted echoed in his mind.
Perfect timing. Let's try out the new store item.
[Private Message Messenger - Purchased, Malice -200]
[Effect: Plays a short voice message (within 5 seconds) in the target's ear. Tone, volume, and direction can be freely adjusted]
[Note: Tone selection must be done after the user has actually listened to the tone.]
The moment the item was purchased, Russell did not hesitate for even an instant and immediately used it.
He peered through the gap in the curtains, located the butler, and played the recorded voice in his ear.
"Someone's coming!"
The butler heard Douglas's voice—clearly drunk and slightly slurred.
The sound came from a distance, as though Douglas were calling someone outside the study.
"Where is he?! Where did he go?!"
The butler stopped.
"I'm coming right now, Young Master!"
He replied, turned around, left the study, and closed the door behind him.
The footsteps receded.
The study gradually returned to silence.
The maid suddenly opened her eyes, gasping for breath, her chest heaving violently as though she had just been pulled from water.
Russell removed his hand from her shoulder.
"Hah… hah…" She panted, looking at Russell.
"…"
Russell lifted the edge of the curtain slightly and glanced around the study.
No one was there.
He looked away and gazed down at the still-panting maid.
"Are you… Mr. Moriarty?"
The maid asked.
Russell neither confirmed nor denied it. Instead, he asked,
"For personal use?"
Hearing this, the maid was slightly surprised but quickly understood what he meant.
"No, no, I stole it to sell…" she said.
"Belgravia district? Who would even buy something like this around here?"
"I hid it in my luggage… I plan to sell it when I go back home. A single pot can fetch a decent amount of money."
The maid said, looking somewhat embarrassed.
Hearing this, Russell couldn't help but smile.
"You… won't tell anyone, right?"
The maid looked up at him with a worried expression.
"My little theft…"
Russell looked at her.
That youthful face, eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope, and the tips of several cigars protruding from her apron pocket.
"I won't."
He said, "In any case, you'll probably have to change jobs in a few days."
The maid's eyes lit up for an instant, then froze.
"Change jobs?"
She repeated Russell's words, then suddenly realized something.
Russell ignored the other's gaze, turned around, deftly opened a drawer, took out the cigar box, and handed it to her.
"Since this is the last dance anyway, why not do something big?"
"A… ah?"
The maid stared blankly at the cigar box carved from nanmu wood in her hands.
This is…
"Alright, stop standing there. Let's go."
Russell said this and walked toward the window.
"Should I… should I also go out through the window?"
The maid tightly gripped the items in her hands and couldn't help but ask.
Hearing this, Russell stopped and turned to face her.
"So, how do you usually leave after stealing?"
"When no one's around… through the front entrance."
"…The fact that you haven't been discovered means the Douglas family's security system is a bit sloppy."
"No, it's not that… Sometimes I have to hide until dawn."
The maid said, looking somewhat embarrassed.
"Is it that complicated? Then why did you steal in the first place?"
Russell asked. "How bad can the salary and benefits be here?"
The maid paused for a moment. The panicked expression on her face faded somewhat, replaced by an indescribable look.
She lowered her head, gazing at the heavy cigar box in her hands, unconsciously tracing the exquisite embossed patterns on the lid with her fingers.
"My younger brother."
She said, her voice much softer than before.
He worked at a textile factory in the East End. Last month, he got two fingers caught in a machine accident.
The factory paid him five shillings in compensation and then kicked him out.
Russell remained silent.
"He can't do heavy labor now, and he can't find anything else either."
The maid looked up at him.
"I want to gather money for his medicine, and then find him some simple work.
Otherwise, he'll have to work as a porter at the docks. His arms can't handle that kind of heavy labor."
A small crackling sound came from the fireplace. Sparks flew onto the hearth but quickly extinguished.
"How long has it been?"
Russell asked.
"What?"
"How long have you been doing this?"
The maid pursed her lips, as though calculating something—or hesitating whether to tell the truth.
"About half a year."
She finally spoke.
"At first, the meals provided by the factory were never enough, so I just stole food to bring back for my brother to eat better. But... I never thought about stealing money.
Until last month, when that incident happened, I had no other choice. I really needed the money, and those so-called gentlemen didn't seem to care much about losing things, so I gathered my courage…"
She looked down at the wine flask in her hand, then at the cigar box.
"I know this is theft, and I know what will happen if I'm caught. I'll be taken to the police station, thrown in prison, and when I get out, my life will be over."
She looked up at Russell's white mask and the unreadable eyes behind it.
"But… I can't do anything. He's my only family."
Russell looked at her.
"Could you tell me your name?"
"Agnes."
The maid said, "Agnes Calvert."
"Agnes." Russell nodded. "And your brother's name?"
"Tom. Tom Calvert."
"Tom Calvert, East End resident, textile factory accident, five shillings compensation."
Russell repeated. "Understood."
Agnes blinked.
"Understood… So, what happens next?"
"Next," Russell walked to the window and opened it. Night wind blew in, fluttering his black trench coat.
"In a few days, a gentleman in a gray overcoat will come to the East End looking for your brother.
You don't need to know his name. Just have your brother tell him the name and address of the textile factory, and the name of the site supervisor for that month."
Agnes was stunned.
"What are you going to do?"
"Didn't I already say?"
Russell turned around. Moonlight streamed in through the window.
"Something big."