I Found You

Steam erupted, and gray mist shot straight into the sky.

The air was filled with a damp, pungent scent of coal ash.

Clack, clack.

Several metal boxes on the street corner unfolded, their internal gears rotating on their own, speeding up and slowing down sporadically.

A section of the railway track began to move slowly, switching from one line to another.

The next moment, the ground shook, and a train roared past.

Although this was already part of the industrial gray mist zone, it was not far from the Lynch Detective Agency in the River Valley District, only a fifteen minute walk away.

7:50 PM, four hours and ten minutes remaining.

Covering his nose and mouth, Lynch strode across the tracks through the acrid coal smoke, skirted past several speeding carriages, and crossed the bluestone pavement to appear outside the door of Lattis Kitchen.

The streets of the industrial district were not exactly bustling, and people were sparse, but the entrance to Lattis Kitchen was crowded with carriages, and at least ten pairs of well dressed men and women stood under the gas lamps outside the eaves.

At this very moment, Lynch realized for the first time that he was truly in another world.

He rolled up his sleeve to check his arm; it remained withered and seemed to have spread slightly toward his elbow.

He was not sure if it was an illusion, but the pressure on his chest felt increasingly heavy.

Time waits for no one.

Under the angry glares of the people in line, Lynch squeezed directly into the restaurant entrance.

A waiter in a red vest immediately came up to greet him.

“Apologies, sir, we are already full, you...” The waiter looked at Lynch with confusion. “Sir, you were just here this evening, right? I am sorry, but your previous table is already occupied; you will need to join the queue again.”

Phew, at least that memory was not wrong; this was a very good start.

Lynch’s heart, which had been hanging in suspense, dropped, and his expression relaxed significantly.

Looking inside, under the bright lights of the hall, dozens of thick wooden tables were scattered about, already filled with well dressed gentlemen and ladies. At his previous seat, a gentleman in formal attire seemed to sense his gaze, lifted his top hat, which was embroidered with a blue L family crest, and nodded toward him in greeting.

Who is that?

He immediately found the answer in his memory: Mr. Randall, a very stingy capitalist. Lynch had taken on several commissions from him, and he always found various ways to take advantage, yet he had never been late with the commission fees. He was an extremely annoying but high quality client.

Too lazy to deal with him, Lynch merely lifted his top hat and bowed slightly, then withdrew his gaze and said to the waiter: “It seems you remember me?”

“Of course, you spent four shillings and even gave me a one shilling tip.”

I must have been crazy.

Lynch frowned slightly. One shilling was equivalent to the purchasing power of sixty yuan in his previous life. In his memory, he was just a down and out detective who never tipped when he went out. Yet today, he had actually spent four shillings and given a large tip.

He gave a soft grunt and asked nonchalantly: “Since your memory is so good, do you remember where I came from?”

“This... uh, sorry, sir, I really do not know. I do not usually pay special attention to you before you come in.”

“Then how did I arrive? Walking or by carriage, did you notice?”

“Walking, sir, I remember that quite clearly.”

Lynch nodded thoughtfully, and before he could say anything else, he heard the waiter continue:

“Because before you came in, you were saying goodbye to a friend outside. I looked at the time, and there were no carriages passing by the entrance.”

Hm? A friend?

Lynch’s heartbeat quickened, his palms grew damp, and he asked with full anticipation: “Do you remember what that person looked like?”

“Sorry, I did not see clearly; I only glanced at him.”

Lynch’s heart sank, but he immediately heard the waiter think for a moment and add:

“But I do remember that his nose was noticeably red.”

“Hiss, I understand, thank you.”

Lynch patted the waiter on the shoulder in excitement and pulled out his money bag, preparing to give him another... penny tip. However, when he opened the bag, he froze.

In his memory, the original Lynch’s assets—six pounds and fifteen shillings—were gone.

There were only three shillings and six pence left in the bag.

How did I spend it? I have absolutely no impression of it.

Lynch realized that this probably also belonged to the memories associated with that statue.

Fine, not only do you want me dead, but you also took all my assets, leaving me no way out.

It is not just about my life now; even for these six pounds and fifteen shillings, I have to drag you out and kill you.

Keep your neck clean and wait for me.

Fuming inwardly, Lynch patted the waiter’s shoulder again and took the opportunity to tuck the money bag away, turning and leaving under the waiter’s strange gaze.

The original Lynch’s memory had already reminded him who that person was.

‘Drunken Peter’, an antique information peddler and one of his informants.

Excluding the small possibility of a chance encounter, since they parted ways at the restaurant entrance this afternoon, the most likely scenario was that he had obtained the statue with him that afternoon.

If it had been a private trade for the statue with him, it could have been done at the office. If they had been outside to maintain secrecy, they should have chosen to hide their tracks and sever their connection, not walk together to a restaurant afterward.

Therefore, it was highly likely that he had gone somewhere with him to get the statue. As long as he found this person, he would know what happened that afternoon.

As for where he was now...

Lynch quickly flipped through his notebook. Although some pages were very bizarre, the earlier records were normal.

Long ago, he had recorded information about this informant.

Most nights, he would spend the night at the ‘Mole Club’.

What kind of place was that?

Lynch’s curiosity was quickly extinguished, or rather, completely ignited.

It was less than a kilometer away from Lattis Kitchen.

Around 8:00 PM, with four hours remaining on the countdown, Lynch followed the dim gas street lamps in the mist, treading on the damp steam permeating from the gutters by the roadside, and approached a common two story building.

The exterior had a stylish decor, and a subtle, ambiguous glow leaked from the narrow windows. The only special thing was the thick door on the steps at the entrance, which had a peephole.

“Who are you looking for?” a voice asked from inside the peephole.

“Countess Marianne.”

“Someone is already there.”

“I know, it is Simon; we had an appointment.”

Simon was the name of ‘Drunken Peter’.

“Huh? Playing it that big?”

For some reason, the voice inside became a bit more terrified, and then with a clatter, the door opened.

A dark figure waved his hand: “Hurry in, room 18 on the first floor. Do not wander around; if you disturb other guests, I will break your legs.”

Turning up his collar and lowering his top hat, Lynch silently slipped into the club.

As soon as he entered, a bizarre odor rushed toward him. It was an air mixed with tobacco, perfume, alcohol, and a distinct fishy scent.

Lynch had already guessed what kind of place this was.

A pink service establishment, no doubt about it.

The hallway was dark and deep, with over a dozen wooden doors painted pink on both sides. They looked quite sturdy, and each door had a nameplate with titles like Countess XX or Princess XX. A few doors were left ajar, revealing the pink gas lamps inside and the most eye catching draped solid wood beds, along with those gorgeous figures dressed as noble ladies.

Lynch had no intention of looking closely; he went straight into the long hallway and found number 18 next to the stairs at the end.

He pushed open the pink door, paused for a second, and then closed it again.

He checked the number and nameplate on the door, and with no other choice, he pushed open the door to number 18 again.

He was met with a heavily made up... brawny man sitting on the bed.

Damn you, Drunken Peter.

“Countess Marianne?”

The brawny man nodded coquettishly: “I have a guest, darling. You can wait until tomorrow daytime to come back.”

Lynch’s expression became quite colorful. He took a deep breath: “Where is Simon?”

“Oh, looking for him? He said he was going to the washroom, but he has not come back yet. It has already been ten minutes.”

Hm? The washroom? Does the room not have one?

Lynch frowned. He could not have run off, could he? Why would he run?

With his life at stake, Lynch could not care about manners. He slammed the door and turned to head toward the depths of the club. After taking only two steps, he bumped into a waiter in a black vest.

“Sir, do not wander around. Are you lost?”

“Marianne asked me to help her find Simon, saying he has been in the washroom for ten minutes, and she suspects he might have passed out drunk.”

Hearing the name Marianne, the waiter did not doubt him: “Who is Simon?”

“A guy with a red nose.”

“Oh, him. He did not go to the washroom. I just saw him go downstairs. It looks like he went to the basement.”

“The basement? What is there?”

“The steam engine room.”

In this world, most large buildings had steam engine rooms to provide power to some of the equipment in the building.

What was this guy doing there?

Lynch was even more puzzled: “He could not have gotten drunk and walked into the wrong place, could he? Come with me and take a look.”

“Go yourself. Just go down the stairs, and do not touch the boiler.”

Unable to ask more, Lynch turned and chased after him.

The steam engine room was an open underground space filled with a pungent smell of burnt material and coal smoke, and a wave of heat rolled toward him.

The massive boiler was right in the center of the engine room, and the fire inside illuminated the basement in a deep red.

However, just as he rounded the front of the boiler, Lynch suddenly stopped.

In the steaming environment, his entire body tensed up as if he had fallen into an ice cellar.

A person was lying in the boiler.

His body was completely inside, with only his head exposed.

The flames were roasting his body, making a sizzling sound.

The body had already turned into charcoal, but the head was still intact. It was staring wide eyed at Lynch, a bizarre smile still on its face, and the red nose was shining brightly in the reflection of the firelight.

“Ugh~~”

The rich scent of roasted meat made Lynch vomit on the spot. His whole body went limp, and as soon as he regained his senses, he immediately scrambled and ran wildly until he reached the club entrance, where he leaned against the cold wall, panting heavily while clutching his chest.

He was dead. ‘Drunken Peter’ was actually dead.

And it looked as if he had stuffed himself into the boiler and burned to death alive.

How could this be? This was even more bizarre than my hanging.

The emotions of terror and fear tightly wrapped around Lynch’s heart. He felt his blood vessels tighten, and even his fingers were trembling slightly.

Confused sounds came from the club behind him; it seemed his actions had attracted attention, and they had found the corpse.

Not wanting to stay and invite trouble, Lynch quickly slipped into the shadows by the roadside, clutching his chest as he slowly regained his ability to think.

One step too late. Ten minutes earlier would have been fine.

He was not even a friend, just a regular informant. All Lynch felt in his heart was deep regret.

Had the clue just broken off like that?

No, I will not give up.

Gritting his teeth, Lynch repeatedly pondered the information he had found. Before he knew it, his chaotic and fearful mind had quickly calmed down.

Are you helping me, Witness?

【You are special, Awakened One. Your will is exceptionally strong and can quickly cast off the influence of fear. This has nothing to do with me.】

Fine, then thank you as well.

Calming down, his thinking became clear. Learning from the habit of analyzing clues he had developed from watching shows in the past, all the information converged in his mind.

I am not actually very familiar with him, so we should not have been doing this kind of thing together. But since we appeared together today, combined with his profession as an antique information peddler, and considering the identity of the statue, it is highly likely that I obtained information about the statue from him, and he took me to acquire it. That is how my money was spent.

So the place where we got the statue is likely related to his profession, that is, a place related to antiques. It must also be a place where transactions can be made safely and legally. Museums and the like do not count; I generally do not engage in illegal activities.

Of course, it could be a private collection, but I should not have taken a large amount of cash to rashly follow a person I do not know well to an unfamiliar private residence. A public place is most likely. Hmm, antique shops are the priority.

There are over a hundred antique shops in Rhine City. Finding them one by one would likely be too late, but I do not have to find them one by one.

I have always been a very poor person and never tipped in the past, especially when I only had three shillings left. Yet, I had given the waiter a one shilling tip and ordered a bottle of fine wine.

It could not have been because I wanted to die then; otherwise, I would have given away all the remaining three shillings. It can only mean that I was about to have a large sum of money, and I was in a very happy mood at the time, which is why I tipped without hesitation.

In such a mood, with someone accompanying me, if the distance were too far, I would not have chosen to walk. No, I should say that even if it were a distance a normal person would choose to walk, I would have chosen a hired carriage. That would fit my mood at the time. After all, now that I have money, I would take a carriage even for ten meters.

But I chose to walk. The most likely reason is that the location was not far from Lattis Kitchen.

His brain worked at high speed, the mystery was unraveled, and it gradually emerged.

He opened the city map tucked into his notebook, found Lattis Kitchen, and pressed his finger on the map, using it as a center to slowly draw a circle outward.

“Using it as the center, with a radius of three hundred meters, then search for public places related to antiques.”

Habitually kissing the moon pendant, Lynch did not even know who he was praying to for protection, as he muttered and expanded his search range on the map circle by circle.

One circle, another circle, and then he suddenly stopped.

He looked up, revealing a somewhat ferocious smile.

“I found you.”

Granville Antique Shop, 4 Bellflower Lane.

8:15 PM, three hours and forty-five minutes remaining.