Afterward, he danced with Lina and continued to chat with people. After the Mayor and his entourage reappeared, Wayne followed Mr. Basque of the Beaton Family to meet some businessmen and council members. Father Tyrrell even inquired about the current progress of the Detective Agency.

After the ball, Wayne's self-imposed “small goal” was largely accomplished. He had basically confirmed the gang situation in the Dock Area and also generally understood City Hall's attitude towards it.

In fact, the Richmond City Hall's overall resources were no less than those of many wealthy individuals.

Unfortunately, they had a budget for expenditures, and the city government level didn't have that many important officials who required special protection, so don't even think about security commissions and similar matters. For those, one still had to find rich people.

In the carriage on the way back, Lina still had some complaints about Father Tyrrell's unexpected attendance. “If I had known that old man would secretly bring so many people to the ball, I wouldn't have come. It wasn't even convenient for me to wander around a bit midway; I didn't even get a clear sense of the environment.”

Wayne was already tired of complaining about Lina’s occupational habit and teased, “Then didn’t you and Inessa get all dressed up so beautifully today for nothing?”

“No, it wasn't for nothing. We really brought prestige to the Detective Agency today. Many ladies came to subtly inquire about the Detective Agency’s income, thinking we must be particularly capable.”

Lina only became a little energized when talking about these things. “And many officials’ wives are actually easier to get along with. At least when they look at jewelry, they still appreciate the design and craftsmanship. But there are also types similar to some wealthy wives, who only ask about the price and popularity of even perfume, completely lacking their own aesthetic sense.”

Inessa was as calm as ever. “Actually, many of them also have their own interests. One lady likes music; I think her explanations are more profound than those of teachers in the academy. She even wanted to talk about literature with me, but unfortunately, I don't know much about that.”

“No, when you talked about Windsor's history, I thought she listened quite intently.”

Lina slightly retorted, and then the topic shifted back to Wayne. “There was a young lady who seemed particularly interested in you and asked a lot about the Detective Agency. Do you want to find an opportunity to get to know her?”

Wayne had already guessed who it might be and directly stated the answer, “Is it Miss Harley? I talked to her at the ball and even signed my name for her.”

“Hmph.” Lina pouted, “But why didn’t I notice that?”

Inessa, however, remembered very clearly: “You were fixated on the tiara Mrs. Kate was wearing then, asking who the designer was. And then you even compared the prices of the jewelry on each other.”

“It seems like something like that happened…” Lina recalled briefly, “She was just trying to show off back then, she didn't understand jewelry at all. She didn't win the price comparison either, you see how she didn't dare to speak afterward.”

“But she eventually said she had even more valuable jewelry at home, so she'll probably come looking for you next time we meet.”

“I’m not afraid of her. We still have that ruby necklace worth several thousand pounds, and we can borrow from Miss Olivia. But jewelry is actually not as lovely as gold coins; it's useless except for showing off. Once my grand hotel opens, I’ll even deliberately wear glass jewelry, since some wives won't be able to tell the difference anyway.”

…

Late at night,

A glass marble, taken from a paper wrapper, was shot into the second-floor window of James Damody's residence.

First, there was a “clang” sound inside the house, then the bouncing “tap, tap, tap, tap,” and finally, a series of faint rolling sounds.

A floating translucent phantom, accompanied by illusory wails and screeches, rose from the marble. It looked somewhat like a banshee with disheveled hair from a horror story, with a twisted and ferocious face.

After glancing at the window glass, Harley Quinn was quite satisfied with the random form she had taken this time, thinking it was perfect for teaching a lesson to a gangster.

She held no ill will towards the criminal acts of gangsters, but she detested “tasteless” people and things.

Criminals with taste should either be undetectable or should brazenly flaunt their recklessness, and not hide away only to be discovered.

Mr. Wayne has already investigated you, so as a criminal, how can you not openly confess and submit to the law? The story shouldn't be like this.

The phantom's existence was limited, and the noise hadn't attracted anyone, so the “banshee” could only float and actively search.

Discovering that the room door was actually closed, and the phantom's power was very weak, unable to even turn the doorknob, the “banshee” let out a ferocious, illusory shriek—this was a normal phenomenon that occurred when using “abilities,” which could indirectly reflect her mood, but the specific form of expression was not controlled by Harley Quinn—and then could only obediently float outside the window to “take a detour.”

As a meticulous lady with a tax officer father who liked to bring work home, Harley Quinn was no stranger to the addresses of some “well-known figures” in Richmond, and she also knew where to hire children who needed pocket money to deliver her energized items.

However, she actually didn't know her target for tonight, and she only heard about his crimes from her father in the carriage on the way home—her father's original main idea was actually, “That Wayne just investigated the Cathedral assassination case, and now he's pursuing the Dock Area gangs. He's too likely to attract retaliation. You need to keep your distance from such a person.”

It was just a phantom, and each time it appeared, it was a different form that she couldn't decide herself, so Harley Quinn didn't have to worry about retaliation.

So she chose to be the “tasteful great detective” herself, teaching a lesson to criminals who were unwilling to surrender.

…

In his sleep, James Damody felt a slight itch on his face.

He groggily scratched twice, then realized the cause of the itch was not on himself.

Then he opened his eyes and instantly woke up with a start:

“Ahhhhhhh—”

A ferocious face, like a vengeful ghost, witch, or demon, suddenly appeared before him.

Accompanied by what seemed like auditory hallucinations, yet also screams filling his ears, he seemed to vaguely hear a single word, like a murmur, which sounded like “reporter.”

He instinctively threw a punch, feeling as if he had hit cotton, no, something far softer than cotton.

At the same time, he scrambled off the bed, fumbling to open the bedside table drawer, grabbing his gun, and firing a volley at the ghostly figure:

“Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang!”

Bullets passed through the ghost, sparking on the wall behind, while the ghost rapidly approached with a series of chilling, sinister laughs.

A pair of sharp claws encircled him from both sides, quickly reaching for his neck—

James Damody only felt his vision go black, and then almost simultaneously with the phantom's disappearance, his bedroom door, which had been pushed open by his dozing subordinate, swung open.

The subordinate, holding a lever-action rifle, found no enemy in the room, only James Damody lying on the floor, his pants already wet.

Meanwhile, on the other side of Richmond City,

Harley Quinn, lying in bed, removed the mask from her face after the phantom's energy was completely depleted and it had successfully scared the target unconscious.

With her arms wrapped around herself, her body curled into a fetal position, she whispered, “Pain…”