It was already twelve thirty in the afternoon on June 5th. After seeing off Sister Nightingale, who had come for a follow up, Lynch enjoyed a refreshing bath. Surrounded by the three ladies of varying ages, he finished a lunch meticulously prepared by Mrs. Maggie before finally leaving the apartment with Officer Natalie to board a hired carriage.
The destination: the Scarecrow Club.
It was not that he did not want to rest for a few more days, but the news the officer brought made Lynch feel unable to sit still.
That stack of photos of the murdered reporter Donnie was filled with mysteries. Even though they were clearly dangerous, they seemed to exude a strange allure that made Lynch unable to resist wanting to peek behind the curtain.
For this reason, Lynch had asked Maya, but Maya did not see much of an issue with the photos, which was why she asked Donnie to help find someone else to look at them. However, judging by the timeline, by the time the photos were taken and reviewed, she had already formed a connection with Zur Baha Sahr and Mordiggian. She had already stepped one foot out of the human realm, so her perspective held little reference value.
This was not just curiosity getting the better of him, or at least not entirely.
Because these photos were likely related to the secrets of the railway project, the next breakthrough in the investigation of the entire railway project might just lie within this stack of photos.
In both his past and present life, Lynch never liked owing favors. Once he had accepted someone's payment, he could not sleep soundly until he completed the commission. Therefore, Lynch had been dwelling on this matter. Now that there was finally a discovery, he feared that any further delay would introduce new variables. So, dragging his injured leg, he hurried with Officer Natalie toward the Scarecrow Club.
After all, in the world of mystery, nothing that happens is worth being surprised by.
“Mr. Klin only sent word through someone a short while ago. Even if something truly happened, it wouldn't be this fast. Besides, he is an expert in deciphering mystery documents; he wouldn't...”
“Stop, I know. Don't keep saying these dangerous things; it's too terrifying.”
Lynch broke into a cold sweat. He scrambled off the carriage in a panic, and only upon seeing the Scarecrow Club in front of him did he finally heave a sigh of relief, testing his ability to walk a few steps without the support of his cane.
Being able to walk normally on his own two legs again made Lynch feel quite gratified.
Although his two legs were uneven in size and his gait was limping, the long lost freedom made Lynch so excited he nearly skipped and ran, until his legs gave out and his body tumbled into Officer Natalie's arms... Wait, wait, wait, don't grab my collar, you're going to choke me.
With his bold ideas suppressed, Lynch had no choice but to switch back to a normal walk. Well, his recovery was actually quite good. If he paid attention to rehabilitation over the next few days, he would be back to normal soon.
Having not seen it for many days, the Scarecrow Club remained the same. There were few people around at noon, with only a few familiar faces gathered around the lizard box, including the bearded Truen, who was obsessed with licking his own boots. A group of people did not know what they were studying, whispering and discussing from time to time, looking exactly like the fanatical lottery players back home studying the numbers on the wall at a ticket booth.
“Hey, Natalie, and that Lynch guy.” The bearded Truen spotted the two of them at a glance. “Didn't you break your leg? How come you're running over here to drink so soon? You aren't planning to throw your leg away and have one last indulgence, are you? Hahaha, that would be just like us.”
“It healed fast because I was treated by the saint, Sister Nightingale. Eight consecutive personal treatments. Envious, aren't you?” Lynch ignored the idiot and winked at the woman in men's clothing behind the bar. “Good afternoon, beautiful Linda. Add a beer for everyone here, it's on me.”
As he spoke, he lined up nine shillings on the bar counter.
Although his liquid assets were running low, money that needed to be spent had to be spent properly. These people had been willing to mobilize in the middle of the night to risk their lives against hillmen to save him, even if it was largely out of respect for Officer Natalie and they hadn't actually helped. Lynch still kept this favor in his heart.
“Hahaha, you're boasting again. You got away with it last time, but I don't believe you this time. What kind of status does Lady Nightingale hold? Even if Duke Vane were sick, she wouldn't show up in person. How could you possibly get her to treat you personally, let alone eight times? Hahahaha, last time was just a joke, you don't really think you're Emperor Rudolph II, do you? If you really can get the old lady to treat you personally, see this glass lizard tank? I'll eat the lizard on the spot. One treatment, one lizard.”
“Extra! Extra!” Just as the bearded Truen was laughing, a loud cry from a newsboy drifted in from outside the window. “The saint, Lady Nightingale, traveled to the Lynch Levive Agency at Charles Square in the Crown District this morning to comfort the detective who was injured in a previous commission, fully displaying the compassionate heart of the Lord of Suffering.”
The shouting brought the noise in the bar to an abrupt halt. The group of people fell into a strange, stunned silence, listening to the newsboy's voice gradually fade into the distance, their gazes shifting repeatedly between the lizard box and Truen's face.
“Emperor Rudolph II?” Lynch arched his eyebrows toward the lizard tank, his soft voice exceptionally clear in the silence.
Truen's face instantly flushed deep red. He hung his head in silence for a moment, then suddenly spun around and lunged toward the glass tank holding the lizards.
“Stop it, you lunatics! These are gambling pieces!” Linda, the woman in men's clothing, let out a roar.
“Damn you, Truen, what are you trying to do to these precious lizards? Put them down!”
“You were muttering about stewing them yesterday when you lost! I saw it coming, stop!”
Boom, bang, crash.
In an instant, chaos erupted in the bar. Wine glasses and plates flew through the air. The sounds of shattering and raucous laughter merged into one, especially as a group of people surrounded the culprit who was trying to destroy the gambling pieces and kicked him hard. The wails filled the bar with a joyous atmosphere.
“Klin came up looking for you two a moment ago, seems like something's up.” Amidst the clamor, another bartender in men's clothing dodged a flying wine glass, crouched behind the bar, and poked his head out. “Said for you to head down to see him as soon as you arrived.”
“Hmm? So urgent? Did he find an important clue?”
Lynch and Officer Natalie, who were just about to join in and kick the culprit a few times for fun, stopped and exchanged a look of surprise. An inexplicable sense of unease welled up in their hearts. The two no longer delayed; they greeted the hunters in the midst of the chaos and hurried toward the basement.
The staircase cut off the noise from outside. The underground space remained as deep and silent as ever. The heavy door to the archives was wide open, revealing the bright space within.
What's going on? It couldn't have actually gone wrong, could it?
Their footsteps paused. Officer Natalie tugged at Lynch's wrist, pulling him behind her. Lynch also tightened his grip on his cane. One in front of the other, they quickly approached the archives.
“You're here? Come in, I'm in the office.”
Klin's voice suddenly rang out. Although it gave the two of them, who were already on high alert, a start, their suspended hearts finally settled.
A false alarm. Scaring themselves for nothing.
Lynch laughed at himself and followed the officer into Mr. Klin's office.
Mr. Klin was sitting behind his desk, wrapped in a robe. His face was pale, his spirit exhausted, and even his voice was quite weak. He pushed a metal box toward them: “It's finally been deciphered. I need to rest for a good while. The contents are for you, they are all inside. Take a look yourselves.”
“Thank you very much.”
The breathing of both Lynch and the officer slowed for a beat. They carefully took the metal box. The clue they had racked their brains to find had finally reached the moment for the mystery to be revealed, yet the two of them had a feeling of not daring to open the lid.
To use a phrase from home, it was like feeling timid as one approached one's hometown.
They looked at each other. Lynch gritted his teeth and violently flipped open the lid.
The moment he saw what was inside the box, Lynch felt his blood vessels contract and his eyes twitch. There were no photos in the box, only a thick pile of paper ash.
Paper ash in the shape of photos.
The two looked up in astonishment toward Klin behind the desk, only to see him smile at them with a look of exhaustion as he shoved a revolver into his own mouth.
Immediately, he pulled the trigger.
Bang.
Rate on N.U.
