May 17, 1399, Morning.
The morning sun failed to disperse the fog that carried a charred scent. The sky was a hazy gray; Rhine City spent at least a third of the year in this kind of smog.
Only a few vendors had set up their carts in Charles Square. Occasionally, pedestrians passed through, but one could see groups of young men and women waiting by the roadside, preparing to head to the factories in the gray fog zone to start their shifts.
Clang, clang. Several packhorses with bells around their necks snorted as they rushed out of the morning mist. The carts behind them were piled high with mountains of coal. Cinder fell all along the path, drawing a few ragged street urchins to pick it up as they followed.
So, this is what Charles Square is like in the morning.
Lynch yawned and closed the window; he was still a bit sleepy.
After the officer left yesterday, Lynch had stayed in his apartment, repeatedly practicing the two new abilities he had mastered. During this time, he even experimented with stimulating his individual authority to reinforce himself, until his energy was completely exhausted and his head felt like it was splitting.
He hadn't developed any new abilities, of course, but the practice yielded good results.
Although he still needed to practice mastering the timing for actual combat, at least he could now ensure that whenever he wanted to use them, he could trigger them in time. This counted as a significant improvement.
With his mind preoccupied with the case of Donnie and Maya—or more accurately, the Shadow Alliance lurking behind the case—Lynch couldn't fall back asleep after being woken up by the bells of the coal carts, so he simply climbed out of bed and prepared to go out.
He expected to be running around all day, so Lynch didn't wear formal attire. He changed into a simple linen shirt and a thin jacket, topped with a flat cap. Looking in the mirror, he decided that, aside from being too handsome, he looked like a common young man from the lower levels of Lande.
The first floor was very quiet.
After Maggie and her daughter, Martha, returned to their room last night, the gas lamp had stayed on all night; Lynch didn't even know when it had gone out. Fortunately, the room had remained peaceful, and assuming nothing bad had happened, he didn't disturb their conversation. It was thanks to the pound of white bread he had brought back as a gift that they hadn't gone hungry, though the texture of unheated white bread in this era was… hard to describe.
Having beaten their daughter yesterday, he felt he should show some gesture today. Lynch looked at the empty dining table and simply ran to the bakery he had visited in the square the day before, spending eight pennies on a pound of freshly baked bread and a large block of butter.
His heart ached a little, but he treated it as comforting a patient, even if the patient was a result of his own actions.
Lynch left the breakfast in the dining room, then wrapped up a few slices of bread and headed out.
He had decided: for the sake of the three-penny butter, he would walk to the Scarecrow Club.
In truth, he planned to increase his exercise starting today to strengthen his physical fitness. Otherwise, mysteries and monsters wouldn't care if he was a frail detective; he couldn't keep holding Officer Natalie back.
And so, forty minutes later, a sweating Lynch appeared at the train station.
It was already past eight in the morning. People were gradually increasing near the station. Whistles blew and machines roared; the city was waking up from its slumber.
Lynch dodged the horse manure on the main road that hadn't been swept up yet, crossed the station square, and bought a cup of coffee at a stall. With his cane in one hand and coffee and bread in the other, he swayed his way into the Scarecrow Club.
The muscular security guard he had seen two days ago was still guarding the entrance. He glanced at Lynch, perhaps remembering him, and for some reason, he grinned when he saw the bags and cup in Lynch's hands, waving him directly into the club.
There was basically no one to be seen in the small building, and the bar was closed tight. Lynch looked around for a moment and walked straight toward the stairs.
Third floor, dormitories.
Officer Natalie lived here, and they had agreed yesterday that he would find her before noon today.
Only yesterday did Lynch learn that the benefits of the Watchers were actually this good.
Free staff dormitories, free work meals, and a monthly salary of ten pounds. No wonder that group of people was always drinking and gambling on lizards downstairs; they were just rich and idle. This kind of decadent life was the root of all evil and must be fiercely condemned.
The third floor was a straight corridor with apartments distributed on the left and right. The environment was indeed good; they didn't mistreat these warriors who sold their lives.
There were already quite a few people active on this floor. As soon as Lynch came up, he saw an acquaintance—the kind soul who had bought him a beer the other day.
The kind-hearted middle-aged man was standing in the corridor cleaning his pipe. He was startled when he saw Lynch, then showed a strange smile and pointed to the room next door: "304. Be careful."
How did he know where I was going? And his smile was truly lewd; there was no telling what was going through his mind.
Besides, what did "be careful" mean?
Before he could think too much, he was already in front of door 304 and raised his hand to knock.
However, there was no response from inside. Lynch knocked five or six times with no answer, and he was just starting to suspect that no one was home when he heard heavy footsteps. The door was pulled open violently, and a roar shook his eardrums.
"Who is it? Can't a person get any sleep—"
The roar stopped abruptly. The two stared at each other blankly through the doorway.
Lynch saw the officer as he had never seen her before.
Her hair was a tangled mess, there were still sleep lines on her face, and she was wearing plaid cotton pajamas. She was holding a fluffy pillow in her arms, standing barefoot on the wooden floor, looking at him with sleepy eyes.
However, her dazed gaze was gradually clearing, and her squinting eyes widened rapidly. The officer suddenly let out a scream, and the pillow was swung with a whistling sound, slamming directly into Lynch's face. It forced him to stagger back two steps.
The officer turned and ran as soon as she threw it, rushing into the inner bedroom and slamming the door, leaving Lynch standing there with the pillow on his head.
To hell with "be careful." Would it kill you to be clear? Does it anger the gods to speak plainly?
Lynch turned his head sharply and glared at the middle-aged man next door. The man was already covering his mouth, laughing so hard he was squatting on the ground. Seeing Lynch glare at him, he immediately clutched his stomach and fled back into his apartment, locking the door, followed by the sound of him laughing and pounding on his own door.
I take back my earlier assessment. You aren't kind at all.
Fortunately, the coffee hadn't spilled. Lynch sullenly walked into 304 to set down the breakfast, picked up the pillow, held it in his arms, and then sat down on the sofa in the living room.
The environment was indeed great, even more spacious than apartment 221, with a sofa, a fireplace, and a large liquor cabinet filled with various red wines.
There was even a large, half-human-sized doll on the sofa. Lynch habitually set the pillow down and hugged the doll.
Lynch felt that today's trip was worthwhile. This serious and conservative woman actually had a side like this—not only did she sleep in, but she also liked hugging this thing. She was truly so girlish. Hahaha, and the scent on it was… no, I am not a pervert.
Just as he was undergoing a brutal internal psychological struggle, the bedroom door sounded. The officer had already changed into her daily men's formal wear and stepped out. When she saw her doll in Lynch's arms, she immediately blushed, snatched it away, threw it into the bedroom, and locked the door. Only then did she stride back angrily, swung the pillow at Lynch's head a few more times, and then picked up the bread on the coffee table and took a bite, as if she were venting by biting off a piece of Lynch's flesh.
"Bastard, why did you come so early? Didn't we say before noon?"
"Isn't this before noon?" Lynch handed her the coffee and explained with a smile, "I just felt a bit uneasy. It's better to go to Donnie's house sooner."
"The key is that the people from the Hall of Order are still investigating. I don't even know where his house is." Officer Natalie gulped down some coffee and asked in confusion, "What are you uneasy about?"
"I'm uneasy about the Rangers' actions. The more I thought about it last night, the stranger it seemed. They shouldn't have appeared."
"That's normal. Donnie died, he died in Bessie's shop, and it was a bit eerie. The Rangers are also mystery hunters; they certainly have the right to participate in the investigation."
"But they shouldn't have made things difficult for us by snatching the evidence away. They shouldn't have known we were going. Theoretically, after we destroyed the Thorn Flower the night before last, our investigation was over. The true culprit stopped at the Railway Workers' Union; that's the conclusion the city hall released to the public. We have no reason to continue following up."
Officer Natalie frowned, and her expression turned serious.
"Everyone should believe the case is closed, but they acted as if they knew we were going ahead of time, snatching everything away first. This is very unreasonable."
"Indeed, the Rangers targeting the Watchers is routine, but they shouldn't be able to act like this."
"That's why I'm worried someone is inciting them from behind, and this person knows the Railway Workers' Union is not the true culprit. We are very likely to continue investigating the true culprit."
"Only the true culprit could be sure that what we found was not the true culprit." The officer sighed, "So you're worried that Speaker Grant is provoking their jealousy?"
"Actually, whether he provokes them or not is unimportant. I'm worried that if someone is inciting them from behind, will they continue to create obstacles for us?" Lynch smiled bitterly, "You also used the police from the Hall of Order to investigate Donnie's residence. These actions probably couldn't be hidden from the Rangers. After all, they are a local Rhine organization and have a closer relationship with the police than you do. The police don't even need to offend you; they just need to notify the Rangers first to ruin our investigation."
"Hiss, they are all under the city hall, so they are definitely closer than us." The officer stuffed the bread into her mouth without any regard for her image, drank the coffee in one gulp, and hurriedly put on her top hat and picked up her sword, "We can't afford not to be prepared. We'd better go take a look first."
"But we still don't know where it is?"
"They already found the street name: Fox Lane. There are at least three hundred households living there, several thousand people. It's not easy to find."
"Hmm? That place…"
"That's right, it's not far from Villa Avenue. We can't let them get there first. Let's go."
"No, I mean I've been there. A red-nosed man took me there. It's a very interesting place."
Rate on N.U.
