Trafford's Trading Club

Chapter 1273: The Young Knight

“What? She didn’t check in?!”

On the satellite video call, Peter Chen was drenched in cold sweat, not daring to meet the camera. By rights, a man in his mid-thirties shouldn’t be afraid of a girl barely in her twenties.

But the woman on the other end of the call was a witch who would fire the Foggy City branch president on a whim. He couldn’t afford not to be careful.

“Miss Ying, strictly speaking, it’s just that the lady you mentioned didn’t go to the room we arranged. She stayed in Young Master Qiu’s suite instead…”

“What?! You even let her get to the hotel? Didn’t I tell you to create a ‘traffic jam’ first?!”

Peter Chen wiped his sweat with a handkerchief. “Miss… that lady got into the car with Young Master Qiu. We couldn’t block it…”

“Incompetent!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Peter Chen panicked even more, fearing that his position in operations was coming to an end.

Unexpectedly, Miss Ying on the other side of the globe let out a breath and waved her hand. “Forget it. You worked hard today too. Take half a day off next week as compensation.”

Peter Chen froze. He hadn’t expected to mess things up and still get half a day off. He was instantly overjoyed. “Thank you, Miss Ying!”“Hmph. If you’d handled it properly, I was planning to approve a full week of paid leave. Now it’s gone, and you won’t get another chance.”

“Th-thank you, Miss Ying.” He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry—though his expression leaned more toward misery.

When the video call ended, Miss Ying leaned back hard in her chair, which creaked as if about to break, and muttered, “Hard to tell… but it really is the Song family’s genes.”

Whether it was that despicable uncle Song Haoran or her respected grandfather, neither had ever shied away from women. Growing up in a family that built its fortune in the shadows, she was long used to it.

But aside from her late grandmother, her grandfather had never intended to legitimize any woman by his side. As for Song Haoran, he had no intention of marrying at all…

Why am I even thinking about this???

…

…

Foggy City. On a rare sunny afternoon, a well-maintained Beetle slowly stopped in front of an old five-story building by the Thames.

Two well-dressed, elegant men stepped out. One was older, about thirty-five, sharp and capable.

The other was clearly much younger, just past twenty—blond, youthful, brimming with energy—holding a long object wrapped in brown cloth.

At the top of the steps, in front of the building, a Black man in a black trench coat with an eyepatch over his left eye was already waiting.

The older gentleman smiled slightly and greeted him. “Nick, you really should change the style of that eyepatch.”

The one-eyed Black man—Nick—clearly wasn’t talkative. With his remaining eye staring straight ahead, he said calmly, “Gareth, the male and female owners of this house are out at the moment. You have at most thirty minutes to exorcise the evil spirit from the woman of this house.”

“Only thirty minutes?” The spirited young man beside the middle-aged gentleman was taken aback.

Nick said slowly, “Because I’ll need at least fifteen minutes to clean up afterward. And I can’t guarantee the owners won’t return early.”

“OK.” Gareth lightly patted Nick on the shoulder. “Relax, my friend. I’ll finish before time’s up… Really, you don’t want to switch to a new eyepatch? You always remind me of that guy in the movies.”

Nick directly opened the door behind him.

Gareth shrugged, smiled, and led the young man inside. Only after they entered did Nick close the door.

The Knights of the Round Table—one of the oldest organizations passed down across the British Isles. Since its founding, it had guarded the peace of this land, from ancient wars to modern exorcisms.

Today, it had all but faded from human sight. Only a handful of people still knew the organization existed and continued to operate.

“Gareth of the Twelve Knights actually brought a newcomer on a mission this time… Looks like it’s time again for the trials to fill the vacant seat.”

Leaning against the door, Nick thought silently. Every five years, a group of outstanding young people came from across the country to compete for the inheritance of the name 【Ector】, one of the Twelve Knights’ titles that had remained vacant to this day.

…

“Klein, do you know how evil spirits are born?”

On the wooden staircase, the man who had abandoned his original name and now bore the title Gareth suddenly turned back and asked.

The young man named Klein hurriedly replied, “All hatred, jealousy, and malice—if a person can’t find peace after death—can remain as malignant intent. By constantly devouring other evil thoughts, it grows and eventually becomes an evil spirit. And if left unchecked, an evil spirit will keep consuming human lives until it becomes a terrifying fiend.”

“Well said. You’ve memorized the books well.” Gareth smiled slightly. “But there are some things the books don’t teach.”

“What are they?” Klein asked eagerly.

Looking toward the end of the corridor, Gareth said casually, “If humans willingly fall into depravity, they can also become evil spirits… Hmm, here it is.”

Gareth stopped by the railing at the end of the corridor, his gaze fixed on one of its posts. “Did you bring the manifestation powder, Klein?”

“Yes!”

Klein quickly took out a box about the size of a compact mirror, opened it carefully, and sprinkled some greenish powder onto the post.

A blood-red, sinister circular formation—seemingly still dripping blood—etched with a pentagram slowly emerged.

Klein was astonished. “Mr. Gareth… is this a magic circle?”

“Strictly speaking, it’s a type of witchcraft ritual—commonly used by a branch of the Aegean witches.” Gareth explained carefully, like a teacher. “That branch specializes in potions and mental witchcraft, and is one of the few that doesn’t forbid contact with humans.”

“Then could the woman of this house be from an Aegean witch branch?”

“Not necessarily,” Gareth said. “She may have simply obtained one of their scattered handwritten grimoires and, through mistaken or improper study, gone down the wrong path. The witchcraft of that branch is mainly for healing—unlike this, which is filled with malevolent energy.”

“Oh… Mr. Gareth, you’re truly learned,” Klein said respectfully. He was Gareth’s knight-servant—a position that itself required passing layers of trials. He cherished the opportunity deeply and had even been recommended by Gareth to participate in the upcoming inheritance trial for 【Ector】.

Gareth shook his head and smiled. “It’s not that I’m learned. I’ve just suffered enough in the past. As for the Aegean witches, it was an elder who told me about them.”

“To be your elder, Mr. Gareth, he must have been a righteous, kind, and powerful great knight,” Klein said with longing.

“Powerful, yes. Perhaps kind as well… but righteous, not necessarily.” Gareth shook his head. “That elder was stripped of his knightly title twenty years ago.”

“How could that be?!” Klein was utterly shocked—more shocked than when he’d discovered the witchcraft on the post. To be stripped of one’s title by the Order—what kind of grave crime would that be?

“If you had a daughter who fell in love with a vampire…” Gareth sighed softly. He seemed about to say more, but his gaze suddenly sharpened, keen as an eagle’s.

Klein sensed the change instantly, but it was too late to react. Gareth’s arm moved at an unimaginable speed—faster than the limits of the human body.

Something was cut apart by Gareth’s swing and fell onto the floor… It was something like sludge, like a viscous living creature. Once it was severed and hit the ground, it immediately lost all vitality and instantly turned into a pile of black powder.

“Klein.” Gareth suddenly stepped aside and said offhandedly, “This mission is yours. I haven’t checked your progress in today’s swordsmanship lesson yet.”

Knowing this was Mr. Gareth testing him, Klein hesitated for a brief moment, then resolutely nodded… and untied the brown cloth wrapped around the long object in his hands.

It was a one-handed cruciform longsword.

Klein took a deep breath and slowly advanced down the corridor toward the room at the far end. He had already experienced several real battles, but always as support at the side—this was the first time he would face it alone. Of course, such combat would come sooner or later; he just hadn’t expected it to be this soon.

I must not disappoint Mr. Gareth… Klein steadied his resolve.

“Go, Klein! You’re amazing, Klein! Go, Klein!!”

Behind him, the elegant Sir Gareth suddenly put on a fake nose he’d pulled out from who knows where, planted his hands on his hips, lifted his legs, and started jumping around doing a cheerleading dance.

“Mr. Gareth, you are one of the Twelve Knights of the Round Table, the great Gareth! Please stop this indecent behavior!! You’re distracting me!”

“Ah, I finally found a new color of fake nose…” Gareth sighed in disappointment, then very softly added, “Go, Klein… Go~~”

Klein let out a heavy sigh. There was no doubt he truly respected his knight… if only not for this occasionally off-the-rails personality, he might have been perfect.

Pulling himself together, the young apprentice knight approached the room at the end of the corridor again. A chilling cold began to seep into his body bit by bit, but his well-trained physique was still able to resist it.

Suddenly, the door to the room at the end of the corridor burst open, and an even colder current of air blasted out—astonishingly strong.

At the same time, waves of terrifying, shrill laughter rang out.

Klein pressed forward against the wind, channeling the sword power forged through ancient training methods into the steel blade in his hand. The slender cruciform sword suddenly emitted a faint cyan glow, splitting the gale apart.

With a loud shout, Klein raised his sword high and charged into the room—immediately followed by the sounds of smashing and crashing.

Moments later, a figure rolled out of the room. Klein’s left eye was already swollen and red.

He quickly got back to his feet, raised the cross sword again, shouted, and charged back in… rolled out, stood up, raised the sword, charged again… rolled out, stood up, raised the sword.

At some point, Gareth had acquired a cup of coffee in his hand. Oh, and he’d also noticed an old-fashioned vinyl record player placed in the corridor.

“Oh, the taste of this homeowner is quite nice. I like it.”

He pulled out a record, placed it on the turntable, and set the needle down—it was a waltz, The Blue Danube.

“Hah!” “Ha!” “Yah!”

Those diligent, unyielding shouts filled with fighting spirit intertwined wonderfully with the notes of the dance music in the corridor… Gareth sat down and began reading today’s newspaper.

“Oh, brave Klein, please make sure to hold out until I finish reading this article.”

“I’ll do my best!!!! Ha!!!”

“Good boy.”

…

…

“Cherries?”

Instead of using the hotel’s afternoon tea, Miss Maid had prepared a light fruit platter for her master.

“Yes. This hotel is quite nice—there’s even an indoor organic farm downstairs, so I went and picked some,” You Ye said softly.

Even the stems had been removed, leaving the cherries looking like sparkling red gemstones.

The upper suites of this hotel were fully equipped. Outside on the terrace, there was even a fairly large open-air swimming pool. Boss Luo was currently reclining on a lounge chair on the terrace, leisurely reading an English book.

He picked up a cherry from the plate and tasted it, then asked curiously, “By the way, when we came up earlier, I didn’t seem to see the thirteenth floor… Is it always like this?”

“In the West, people are rather superstitious about the number thirteen,” Miss Maid said softly as she sat beside him. “Many older buildings simply remove the thirteenth floor, though it’s rarer in modern times.”

Boss Luo looked out at the River Thames and smiled. “A missing thirteenth floor… I wonder if something interesting might happen.”

“If the master wants it to, then it naturally will,” Miss Maid said, hitting the truth dead on.

Luo Qiu paused, then shook his head with a wry smile. “I’d like a couple of quiet days.”

As he spoke, he picked up a cherry and brought it to the maid’s lips, feeding her.

Miss Maid brushed her hair aside, lowered her head, gently opened her lips, and slowly bit down.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

(End of Chapter)