Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 48: First Salary

Monday, July 21st 1030.

Abel left his new flat exactly at 9:30 am, arriving at The Society for Natural Philosophy ten minutes before his occult classes with Madam Whitmore began.

Then, he left the Club after midday, reaching the Trust within 12:20 pm. Needless to say, he walked the entire distance, because he loved walking.

He would only hire a carriage if it was absolutely necessary. Other than that, he preferred to walk everywhere.

It had been exactly two weeks since he had transmigrated into this world, and exactly a week since he’d emerged from the Crucible after having passed the First Trial.

The spirit energy in his body had completely assimilated with him at this point. He could feel it—the presence of a mystical energy deep inside of him.

It was like a feeling of becoming whole. It was difficult to put into words, it was an inexplicable feeling.

He stood before the three-story building of the Trust, looking at it with a faint smile.

So, today’s technically my first day here, eh?

He mused to himself, his heart filled with anticipation, his blue eyes gleaming with excitement.

Abel was brimming with self-confidence. Not only because of the fact that he was a Grade 1 Occultist, but because he was in finely tailored garments.

Clothes maketh the man, they say.

He wore a dark frock coat over his attire. Underneath, he wore a crisp white linen shirt beneath a black waistcoat. He paired it with matching trousers and leather boots, and a neatly tied cravat adorned his neck.

The silver pocketwatch rested securely in his waistcoat’s pocket, its chain fastened around a button. He completed the look with a black top hat and a silver-handled cane.

Now, he looked like a proper Albion gentleman!

As he stepped foot inside the main banking hall on the ground floor, he was immediately greeted by the Chief Teller, Alfred Prescott.

"A most pleasant morning to you, sir," he said with a professional smile. After a brief glance at Abel’s attire, he couldn’t help but remark. "Exquisite tailoring, sir. It suits you splendidly."

"Morning, Mr. Prescott," Abel grinned. He tapped the cane on the ground, resting both hands on the handle. "Pretty cool, right?"

"Cool?" Alfred arched an eyebrow.

"I mean, I look marvelous, right?"

Alfred’s smile threatened to break. "Y-Yes, sir. Marvelous, indeed."

"Hehe," Chuckling foolishly, Abel walked past the middle-aged man, climbing the grand staircase to the upper floors. "Later, Mr. Prescott."

"Mr. Bishop!" Alfred suddenly called out to him. "The Treasurer, Mr. Barrett, inquired after you. Please do meet him, when you have the time."

Abel turned around and asked with a raised eyebrow, "Mr. Barrett? Who’s he?"

Alfred stepped forward, saying in a soft voice, "The gentleman responsible for managing the Trust’s finances, as well as the payment of employees—all its employees, sir."

"Oh?" Abel was surprised. He then nodded. "Understood. I’ll meet him on my way up."

"You will find him on the second floor, sir."

"Got it." Abel nodded, then climbed the staircase to the second floor.

He was easily able to find the man’s office, as he was one of the few people to actually have a big office designated to them.

He knocked on the door lightly. "Sir, this is Abel. May I come in?"

"Please, do." An old voice came from the other side.

The youth opened the door and found an bald old man with white hair only on the sides of his head, sitting at the table, and sigining a few documents.

When this old man saw Abel enter, he rose to his feet with a bright smile. "Ah, there you are at last. The newest addition to our Security & Special Operations team."

The man offered a handshake while introducing himself with the same smile, "James Barrett, Treasurer of the Kensington & Blythe Commercial Trust. I oversee the Trust’s Finances—transactions, payrolls, and investments—all managed with the utmost diligence."

Woah! He gives off the vibe of one of those senior-level executives from large corporations back in my previous life, Abel mused to himself.

He firmly shook the man’s hand. "Abel Bishop, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you."

"Come now, Mr. Bishop, have a seat." The old man pointed at the leather couch positioned against the wall.

As the two of them sat down, Abel couldn’t help but ask, "Sir, may I know why you were looking for me?"

James Barrett smiled as he presented the youth with a sealed envelope. "Your first salary from the Trust, Mr. Bishop. I wished to present it to you personally, but alas, I did not find you here last Saturday."

"Huh? Already?" Abel was stunned. "But... I didn’t even work last week."

James chuckled heartily. "Ah, but you did, young man. You were officially inducted into the Trust last Tuesday. And, as per Mr. Kensington’s directive, your weekly salary is to be disbursed every Saturday without exception."

This is the dream job, for real! Abel felt like he could cry tears of joy at that moment. He received the enevelope with both hands.

"Thank you very much, sir!"

"You’re quite welcome, lad." James Barrett smiled. "I wished to take this opportunity to get acquainted with you, as it is very rare for Mr. Kensington to appoint someone to work as the Trust’s security consultant."

He got to his feet and led Abel to the door. "From next week onward, be sure to come to this floor to collect your salary. Simply inform anyone in the payroll department that you are a security consultant from the third floor, and they will see to it."

"Alright, I will." Abel smiled. He shook the man’s hand again. "It was nice meeting you, sir. Have a nice day."

"You as well, lad, you as well." James Barrett laughed heartily, clearly appreciative of the youth’s polite and gentlemanly attitude.

After a brief stop on the second floor, increasing his coffers by 4 sterling and 10 shillings, Abel arrived at the topmost floor of the building in a jolly mood.

The third floor was spacious and there were far fewer people present here compared to the other floors.

There were only three expansive office rooms—including the Chairman’s—on this floor. A large conference room occupied one side of the floor. This was where the board of trustees or directors convened from time to time.

The rest of the floor space was designated to the Security & Special Operations team!

A door from the side suddenly opened, and Hugh Preston, the Commander of the team, stepped out. He waved at the youth who was looking around in confusion.

"Abel, in here!"

The youth turned his head and saw the door to a large partition had opened and the Commander was beckoning to him.

"Come in, lad." Hugh made way for him, allowing him to enter.

The area was expansive with a few open cubicles occupying the walls. There wasn’t any office room here, everything was much more laidback and less-professional comapred to the rest of the building.

"There was no signage on the door, so I was wondering where the security department was," Abel said awkwardly.

"A signboard would rather undermine the point of undercover work, wouldn’t it?" Hugh let out a dry chuckle.

He then gestured toward the coat stand in the corner and instructed, "Hang up your coat, your top hat, or anything else that might impede your movement during training."

"Yes, sir!" Abel’s eyes lit up in excitement.

As he put away his frock coat and top hat, he asked curiously, "Sir, where’s the rest of the team?"

"Henry and Francis are out on daytime patrol. There are four other team members you have yet to meet," Hugh said as he strode toward the metal door on the other side of the partition.

"Two are stationed at the containment site by the docks, while the other two are guarding the one underneath the hospital."

Oh, so there are four other Occultists? Abel thought to himself, following behind the commander.

"And George is waiting for us in the training area," he added.

He opened the door and leaped down, leaving behind his parting words, "Follow me, and be careful."

Abel was stunned at this development.

He quickly opened the metal door and saw a shaft with a sturdy pole at its center. It reminded him of the sliding pole that firemen would use in his previous life.

"How deep does this go?" He exclaimed, gazing at the pole that descended into the darkness.

He took a few deep breaths and said, "Fuck it!"

Then, he jumped, grabbing the pole with both hands and slid down into the unknown.