The moment Lynch opened his eyes, he felt a little disoriented.
Outside the window, the sky was already bright, and the street corner was a cacophony of human voices and horse whinnies.
He pinched his arm and kicked his leg, only then confirming that he wasn't dreaming.
He had truly transmigrated, now in a mysterious world akin to the Victorian era.
Checking his pocket watch, it was already noon; he had slept straight through.
It seemed that his last use of The Passion of the Blazing Lady had placed a huge burden on his body.
Time to get up. He had to hurry; he had an appointment with Officer Natalie, and then he needed to find a new place to live.
After quickly washing up, he rummaged through the cupboard and found a piece of dry bread. Although hard enough to be a weapon, at least it was white bread at five pennies a pound, not black bread at three pennies a pound with at least half its ingredients unknown.
It shouldn't kill me, right?
With a grimace and his eyes closed, he soaked the hard-to-swallow dry bread in water and forced it down.
Aside from his teeth, he barely felt like he had eaten anything.
Never mind. During these difficult times, he'd just consider it an experience of medieval noble life.
He had to get back to a normal life as soon as possible.
Lynch changed into his only formal suit in front of the mirror and picked up his cheap, old cane. “Alright, Travel Companion, let's go. I'll continue to show you this new world.”
【Alright, Awakened.】
The gentle voice, as always, fell silent after speaking, but Lynch suddenly felt a hundred times more energetic. He pulled out his chair and strode out of the apartment.
He almost collided with someone standing at the door.
Who's that?
It was a thin, gaunt middle-aged man in a formal suit with a rat-like mustache. Lynch found him somewhat familiar. After a quick comparison with his memories, his expression became rather strange.
Mr. Wilson Natch, also known as his landlord.
Lynch immediately glanced at the window behind him.
It's only the second floor. Jumping out the window shouldn't break my legs, right?
“Lynch Levive, what’s going on? I heard you brought the police to my doorstep, and this door! Are you trying to tear down the building? Fix it quickly later.”
“It’s nothing, nothing. Just a good citizen assisting the Hall of Order with an investigation. The problem’s already solved.” Lynch nodded with an awkward smile, then nervously asked, “Mr. Wilson, you’re here today to…”
“To collect the rent, of course! Did you expect me to wait until I had to chase you for it?” Wilson’s tone was rather high-pitched.
“Today? Isn’t it tomorrow?” Lynch glanced at the window again.
“Hmph, you’re so stingy every month. Would paying a day early kill you? You always drag it out until the last day, no wonder no one comes to your shabby agency. I’m telling you, tomorrow, even if you’re short by one penny, it won’t do. Otherwise, don’t blame me when I throw all your belongings out.”
The man’s cutting remarks, almost tangible, spewed from his rat-like mustache, making Lynch’s lips twitch and a vein throb in his forehead. He desperately wanted to kick the man out.
Never mind. He had already decided to move anyway.
“Oh, by the way, I have a letter for you today. Someone slipped it into my mailbox last night.”
It was an ordinary envelope with Lynch’s name on it, no stamp, clearly placed in the mailbox rather than mailed.
Could it be that one of my previous clients sent me my payment?
Forgetting his anger, Lynch took the envelope, shook a fist at Wilson’s retreating back, and quickly opened it.
No money.
Lynch sighed in distress, took out the letter inside, read it once, and his expression darkened.
Mr. Lynch Levive:
Thank you for your splendid performance last night.
As a reward, please enjoy your last month of life to the fullest.
In a month, I look forward to meeting you again in the Flicker's Hall.
There was no signature, just a sinister smiley face.
Lynch frowned, holding the letter up to the light. After all, he wasn't a real professional detective, and he couldn't discern anything from the paper.
He folded the letter, pursed his lips, and put it in his pocket. His previously good mood was now clouded with gloom.
A provocation?
Is he just bored?
If he's not bored, then doing something so foolish must have a purpose, one I don't know yet.
It doesn't matter. I still have a month; I can think about it slowly.
Lynch gave a cold smile, put the envelope away, then took a deep breath and left the apartment, his interest renewed.
The address on Barley Street was not close. Walking there would take at least an hour and be physically exhausting. After much hesitation, Lynch painfully made his decision.
He would walk.
After all, even the cheapest public carriage, one that carried twenty passengers, cost three pennies for a five-kilometer journey.
As for the other two types of hired carriages, they were even more expensive.
A closed hired carriage, seating four, had a starting fare of twelve pennies (one shilling) for three kilometers, and then two pennies per kilometer. An open-top hired carriage, seating two, had a starting fare of only eight pennies, and one penny per kilometer.
He couldn't even bear to pay for a public carriage, let alone a hired one.
Lynch gritted his teeth. Walk it is. I'll just consider it a tour of Rhine City for my Travel Companion.
In fact, this was Lynch's first time experiencing this novel world from a daytime perspective.
Breathing air mixed with a faint smell of coal smoke, walking among gentlemen and ladies in formal wear, Lynch felt himself gradually integrating into this bizarre new world.
This place was, at most, at an 18th-century level, with steam engines only recently entering people's lives.
Farmlands were diminishing, factories belching black smoke were multiplying, carriages laden with coal and whale oil often passed through the streets, and steam trains filled with goods constantly traversed the city.
As the second largest city in the Kingdom of Lande, Rhine City, with a population of a million, covered nearly a thousand square kilometers including its suburbs. Following the custom left over from the lord era three hundred years ago, the city was divided into twelve districts.
The Valley District, where Lynch's apartment was located, was a commercially developed area, with all sorts of shops visible everywhere, showcasing the freedom and exuberance of this era.
As his pace quickened, the noise and bustle of the commercial district faded. Lynch passed through the central Crown District and entered the Grand Cross District, where train tracks were ubiquitous.
The train station was built in this district, where trains from all directions converged, making the Grand Cross District exceptionally lively.
Wiping the sweat mixed with soot from his forehead, Lynch stopped at the large square not far from the train station.
My feet hurt.
With a shriek of a whistle, a steam locomotive, trailing black smoke and white mist, burst out of the station like a ferocious steel monster, roaring into the distance.
Strong laborers carried boxes of goods, weaving through the crowd. Hurrying passengers dragged suitcases down the street. Cart vendors occasionally called out, and scrawny newsboys ran along the street, waving rolls of newspapers.
“Newspaper, get your newspaper! Police raided a cultist hideout last night, nine cultists dead on the spot!”
“Newspaper, get your newspaper! Bester Mountain Tunnel construction to begin soon, hillmen secretly planning a protest to stop it!”
“Extra, extra! The Kingdom has acquired its first airship! Princess Sophia of the Rose family will visit various cities by airship…”
Lynch was momentarily stunned. The extraordinary powers of this new world might be quite distant, but the breath of everyday life had quietly arrived beside him.
Especially the sneaky lady in men’s clothes on the street.
On a sunny afternoon, holding a warm cup of coffee, waiting in a long queue for a few fragrant honey biscuits, squeezing through the bustling crowd, secretly glancing around on the way, quickly taking a bite of a biscuit when no one was looking, then a sip of hot coffee—such a life was simply...
“So Officer Natalie also sneaks out to buy snacks during work, huh?” Lynch caught up in a few steps.
With a rustle, a paper bag of biscuits slipped from her hand. Fortunately, Lynch was quick and caught it in time. The sweet aroma of honey wafted up, whetting his appetite. No wonder this woman would even slack off work to queue for them.
Lynch looked up, just about to hand the paper bag over, when he saw the lady in front of him blush deeply, her head practically steaming like a locomotive. She stammered, flustered, “I-I-I-I-I didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“Th-th-that was, right, I have a friend, I was getting it for him. It-it-it wasn’t for me.”
“Oh, I understand, I understand. ‘I have a friend,’ right? I get it, I also have… Ow.”
The blushing officer stopped Lynch’s teasing in the most effective way possible, stomping on his foot, snatching the biscuits back, and stuffing them into her trench coat pocket. She cleared her throat, trying to cool her flushed cheeks, and said with feigned seriousness, “You’re earlier than I expected. I thought you’d drag your decision out until tonight.”
“I was planning to ask you to help me sell the ring and find a cheaper place earlier, but before I left, the landlord delivered a letter. It was deliberately sent to his mailbox to avoid being traced.” For the sake of his life, Lynch tried to shake off the image of a little mouse stealing biscuits. “It appears to be a letter of provocation from Randall’s master.”
“Hm? You’re moving?” Officer Natalie nodded. “Never mind that for now. Come with me. We can talk inside. The club is just across the street.”
In an unassuming corner across the square stood a three-story building.
It was a very ordinary Victorian-style building, with intricate pipes snaking up its exterior walls. It was clearly an old structure, at least fifty years old, from before the era of gas lamps and steam power, which explained the retrofitted exposed pipes.
A rather ugly scarecrow pattern sign hung at the building’s entrance. The main door was closed, but mysterious individuals in trench coats and top hats, with collars turned up to obscure their faces, frequently entered and exited.
Upon entering, a corridor stretched left and right, and directly ahead was a large hall with an open door.
The hall was set up as a bar, quite spacious, with at least thirty or forty sets of tables and chairs scattered about, and a circular bar in the center.
Although it was still afternoon, there were already forty or fifty patrons in the bar, mostly gentlemen in formal wear, as this world had not yet reached an era where women filled bars.
However, to Lynch’s surprise, the atmosphere among these gentlemen was quite intense. Most were gathered around the bar, agitated, shouting loudly, their attitudes confrontational, as if a bloody battle could erupt at any moment.
Lynch glanced at Officer Natalie beside him, but she seemed perfectly calm and composed as she led him towards the bar.
The bar had a distinct 18th-century style. What was different was a hemispherical glass dome in the center of the bar counter, brightly lit, clearly showing miniature rockeries and similar decorations inside.
Above, a large blackboard hung, displaying detailed tables filled with various numbers. It looked quite professional, making Lynch think he had entered a primitive stock exchange.
Upon closer inspection, the people by the bar weren’t arguing. They were waving banknotes, desperately handing them towards the bar, while two elegantly dressed bartenders, disguised as men, skillfully took the money, and the other, even more skillfully, wrote a string of numbers on the blackboard.
Is it really an early stock exchange? But it doesn’t quite look like one.
As Lynch pondered this, he noticed something move in the corner of his eye, inside the glass dome.
What was that?
Rate on N.U.
