Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 21 The Work of the Port Authority

The wooden planks of the stairs creaked slightly.

Green walked down the steps, and the warm light and aroma of food from the restaurant wafted towards him.

Aunt Sylvia was placing a pot of hot milk on the table when she looked up, saw him, and asked with concern:

"Green, are you feeling unwell? Why are you taking so long? Your breakfast is almost cold."

"He's perfectly fine."

Emily had changed out of her pajamas and was now wearing a light-colored dress.

She was gracefully spreading a thick layer of honey and raspberry jam evenly on a piece of toast with a silver knife.

Emily didn't even look up; she just slightly pursed her lips, then raised her chin, put the spread-on bread into her mouth, and chewed it slowly, behaving like a well-mannered young lady.

Green sneered inwardly.

Although Emily was the same age as him, her ability to change her expression and disguise herself was unparalleled.

Green shook his head at Aunt Sylvia, pulled out a chair and sat down:

"It's nothing, Auntie. I probably just didn't sleep well last night."

Uncle Victor sat in the head seat, with half a copy of the Oberhafen Morning Post in front of him and a fork in his hand, cutting a piece of ham.

He looked up from the newspaper, first glancing at Green, then sweeping his gaze across at Emily, who was sitting upright opposite him.

He seemed to sense the subtle atmosphere in the air, but ultimately asked nothing. He simply put a slice of ham in his mouth and continued reading his newspaper.

In his view, it's normal for children to be noisy and disruptive; what's important is the daily municipal news.

Sula quietly pushed the bread in front of her, which was already coated with honey and baked until golden brown and crispy, towards Green, and whispered:

"Brother, eat this. It's freshly applied and smells especially good."

Green smiled at her. "Thank you, Sula."

Breakfast proceeded in an atmosphere that appeared calm on the surface but was actually rife with hidden agendas. The only sounds were the light clinking of cutlery against plates and the occasional chewing.

The silence was broken when Uncle Victor wiped his mouth with a napkin, folded it, and placed it aside.

He looked at Green and asked, "How's your consideration of the job I mentioned yesterday? It's a temporary job at the Port Authority's Clerk's Office, but it's stable and a legitimate job. Once you're settled, you can work your way up and there's still a chance you can become a permanent employee."

Everyone at the table immediately turned their attention to Green.

Sylvia looked on expectantly, Sula was a little nervous, while Emily stopped spreading jam, pricked up her ears, and had a hint of anticipation in her eyes.

She remembered that Green had once said that his dream was to become a great detective. If Green refused or made excuses to decline, she might have a chance to say something to her father.

Green put down his milk glass, met Uncle Victor's gaze, and calmly nodded: "Okay, Uncle. I'm willing to give it a try. Thank you for your trouble in arranging this."

This straightforward answer caused Emily's jam-spreading knife to accidentally make a slight, grating sound on the plate, which she quickly covered up with a cough.

Aunt Sylvia visibly relaxed, a relieved smile spreading across her face.

Sula blinked, happy that her brother had a "proper job".

Victor showed a hint of satisfaction and nodded:

"Yes, it's good that you've figured it out. Young man, the most important thing is to be down-to-earth. Investigators are ultimately unstable."

He paused, then pulled a folded note from his pocket and pushed it in front of Green. "Go to the Port Authority building in a bit and report to Henry Burns, the head of administration. Just say I sent you; I've already spoken to him. He'll arrange what you need to do."

"Okay, Uncle." Green took the note and carefully put it away.

"Do a good job," Uncle Victor said in a deep voice.

After he finished speaking, he stood up, and Aunt Sylvia hurriedly got up to help him pick up his coat and top hat.

After getting dressed, he accepted the black cane that Sylvia handed him; it was more of a respectable accessory than a necessity.

Victor paused at the doorway, his gaze sweeping over the dining table, before adding, "Although he's just an administrative supervisor on the surface, he's a very powerful man. Don't be late."

Green nodded. "I understand, Uncle."

Victor nodded slightly, turned around and pushed open the door.

Aunt Sylvia breathed a soft sigh of relief, turned around, and began to quickly clear the table, muttering to herself:

"Emily, your art class is at 9:30, right? Stop dawdling. Sura, have you checked your bag? Green, hurry up too, it's your first day at work, you need to make a good impression on your supervisor..."

Emily gracefully put down her napkin, stood up, and as she passed Green, her chin was still tilted back, but her eyes quickly swept over his face before she swayed her skirt and went upstairs to change.

Sula whispered to Green, "Good luck, brother."

Green finished the rest of the milk in his glass, got up and put the chair back in its place, and helped his aunt take a few plates into the kitchen.

After returning to his room, he changed into a more formal dark coat, checked the small bag he had hidden close to his body and the "Apprentice's Secret Medicine," and put the note his uncle had given him into his pocket.

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Oberhafen

港务局

Administrative Office

A middle-aged man was frowning at a document, his fingers unconsciously tapping lightly on the table, his lips moving as if he were muttering something.

The header of the document faintly shows the words "Warehouse No. 7" and "Abnormal Loss".

The middle-aged man's thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

He paused, quickly stuffed the document into the bottom of a stack of ordinary ship registration forms, and then straightened his back.

"Please come in." He cleared his throat.

The door opened with a click.

A young man wearing a dark, old coat and standing upright stood at the door.

His gaze swept across the room, finally settling on the middle-aged man behind the desk.

"Excuse me, are you Manager Henry?" Green asked, holding the note in his hand.

"I am Henry Burns."

The middle-aged man nodded. "May I ask what's the matter?"

"Sorry to disturb your work. Inspector Victor asked me to come and report to you." Green stepped forward and handed over the note.

Henry glanced at the handwriting and signature, then looked up at Green, a look of realization dawning on his face.

"Introduced by Mr. Hayes? Green Morris?"

"Yes, supervisor."

"Okay. Sit down."

Henry pointed to the old-looking wooden chair across the table.

After Green sat down, Henry leaned back in his chair, clasped his hands together, seemingly assessing the young man introduced by the inspector.

"The Port Authority sounds like a respectable place."

He spoke calmly, "But in reality, the work is very specific and tedious. Especially here..."

Henry paused, then shook his head, seemingly somewhat helpless.

"My main responsibility is handling a backlog of historical archives that require patience and physical exertion. You know, the clerical office... well, it's all young female staff."

"They are better at handling existing documents that require meticulousness and communication, the kind of work that involves rummaging through piles of old papers, moving heavy objects, and dealing with dusty conditions..."

Although Henry didn't finish his sentence, his meaning was already quite clear.

There are jobs under my supervision that are more suitable for girls, and these dirty and tiring jobs naturally need to be done by "more suitable" people.

As it happened, the young and strong temporary worker that Victor introduced filled the position.

"Your specific work location is in the large room next to the underground warehouse in that separate two-story building behind the main building. People usually call it the 'old archives storage area'."