"You really know how to get me into trouble."
That evening in the southern suburbs of Tobesk, in the Duchess's manor, Miss Galina said to Shard, who was sitting on the sofa, as she held a teacup.
At this moment, Shard had just returned from Huntington City. The murder at the White King Club had ended with Miss Marsha being arrested, the tobacco merchant and university lecturer taken away, and the dead Earl disgraced. Nevertheless, Shard visited Mr. Benhart's manor as agreed.
Holding a cat, Shard thanked Tifa, who was pouring tea, with a troubled expression on his face:
"I don't know how I ran into her. Now that I think about it, rashly interacting with a lucky relic certainly wasn't a good idea. I feel that ever since I walked out of that wine cellar, Fate has been steering me into that inexplicable mess, leading me to meet Miss Sylvia. Is this good luck or misfortune?"
"Meow!"
The cat meowed, dissatisfied with the slowing pace of Shard's petting.
