Grant Screw Factory

In truth, Lynch couldn't even describe what he was looking at in those drawings.

It was a doodle drawn with charcoal on scrap paper.

Most of the paper had been smeared with a large patch of black, from which a faint outline could be discerned.

With black lines upon a black background, it was difficult to make out the details. At first, Lynch had only seen a vague, indistinct blur, so he hadn't felt any disturbance—only confusion as to what the child had drawn.

Yet as he looked closer, a sudden flash of insight struck him. He gradually began to understand the meaning behind those lines, and with it, what the doodle actually depicted.

Surrounding the center was a cluster of lines representing human figures, gathered around a grotesque, twisted shadow in the middle. The shadow resembled a shapeshifting mass of black flesh, its edges sprouting irregular, elongated lines that reached like countless tentacles toward the human figures—specifically, toward their heads.

It was a simple doodle, but thinking about it sent a deep chill down his spine. The moment Lynch comprehended the imagery, a psychic shock violently struck him. This time, it wasn't nausea, but an intense palpitation born of pure terror.

His heart pounded wildly, his limbs went weak, his muscles trembled uncontrollably, and even breathing became a struggle.

This is just a psychic shock. I'm not truly afraid; this is only the natural effect of a mystery image. I have to hold out. My willpower is enough to resist it.

He gritted his teeth and held on.

A few seconds later, the fear indeed began to recede. Looking at the image still stirred bouts of unease in his chest, but it was no longer as terrifying as before.

‘Neighbor, I’m not mistaken, am I? This is just like seeing that ghoul photograph?’

【Yes. This is the shock from the mystery image itself, not the effect of mystery documents.】

‘Which means what she drew is something that truly possesses mystery, rather than a simple doodle?’

【Yes. No matter how eerie a doodle is, it will not induce a psychic shock. Only when the depicted image possesses mystery can it do so.】

‘Damn it. So that means this scene likely really happened, and it holds mystery?’

Lady Luna offered no further reply, but she had once mentioned that if Lynch were to make a grave misjudgment, she would still give him a warning.

Lynch pressed no further. He swiftly flipped through the remaining doodles in his hands, asking as he flipped, “Do any of you understand what this is?”

“No, it’s just children’s scribbles, isn’t it?” Seeing Lynch’s grave expression, Mrs. Sterling rubbed her hands nervously against her apron. “Is there something wrong with these drawings?”

“It's nothing. I couldn't make sense of them either, so I was just asking. I'll be taking these drawings with me today to study them properly when I get back.”

As he spoke, Lynch finished going through all the doodles. The contents were largely the same: groups of human figures surrounding a mass of shadow. While the exact symbolism required closer study, judging from the current clues, little Janet had most likely suffered a psychic shock from understanding what she saw, resulting in abnormal mental symptoms before eventually falling unconscious.

Just what had the child witnessed? Lynch pondered, turning the doodles over out of habit. The back of the scrap paper was printed with quite a bit of text, but crookedly scrawled in charcoal between the lines was a single sentence, written on every single sheet.

Where did they all go?

Hiss, the creepiness was even greater than he had imagined. A shred of hesitation welled up in Lynch's mind.

Even if he needed contact with mystery to deepen his understanding of Authority, was it truly necessary to dive right into such a high-risk mysterious event from the very start?

Just because it was connected to the Grant Screw Factory?

Yet looking at the old woman nervously wringing her hands, and then at the little heads poking in from outside with hopeful expressions, Lynch's heart softened.

For a mysterious event that hadn't yet erupted, finding the Watchers would hardly get it any serious attention, and among civilians, no private detective would be willing to risk their life for a few shillings.

Forget it. He had already agreed, so he might as well help them out. Who knew, he might not even be able to be of much help anyway.

Now that his mind was made up, Lynch stopped second-guessing himself, taking out his detective notebook to swiftly draw up a plan.

He intended to find the origin of the doodles and figure out what little Janet had encountered. This matter had to be handled as quickly as possible; the little girl had already shown clear signs of progressive weakness that was deteriorating rapidly. Lynch even doubted whether she could hold out until tomorrow. If the girl died, his investigation would become meaningless.

As for the direction of the investigation, the doodles showed subtle differences, including the number of human figures. Lynch deduced that this likely meant it wasn't a single occurrence, but something that took place over multiple occasions or across several days. A considerable number of people were involved as well. The only places where so many people gathered regularly and where the little girl had frequent contact were either the school or the factory. However, the school had too many people—with so many loose lips, keeping secrets would be difficult—whereas the factory workshops were relatively closed off, making it a much better match.

Therefore, Lynch decided to scout the factory first, and if that led nowhere, he would check the school.

If he managed to find the source afterward and it truly turned out to be a mysterious event beyond his ability to resolve, he would immediately seek help from Officer Natalie. Joining forces should be enough to resolve most straightforward incidents.

Time waited for no one. Lynch immediately put his plan into action, quickly returning to Charles Square, hailing an available hired carriage, and heading straight for the Grant Screw Factory.

Unlike his previous investigations, such a densely populated public area was unlikely to have major safety issues, so Lynch felt relatively at ease. Even so, he placed all his weapons in the most accessible positions.

The gray fog zone was the second largest district in Rhine City, an urban area developed only in recent decades. It was famous for its perpetual billows of black smoke and continuous streams of coal carts. Factory after factory stood side by side, and the pungent stench of coal smoke never dispersed. It was said that whenever it rained, the precipitation turned heavily corrosive, leading experts to split into the divine retribution faction and the climate change faction, constantly arguing in the newspapers.

The closer one got to the King District and Valley District, the denser the gray fog zone's factories became, as transportation was more convenient. Thus, in just half an hour, Lynch arrived outside the premises of the Grant Screw Factory.

In this age of steel and steam, screws were in high demand with extensive sales channels, so the factory complex was sprawling. Looking from afar, there were at least a dozen massive factory workshops, each with smokestacks billowing thick black smoke, while the tremendous roar of machinery echoed incessantly from within.

A tall barbed wire fence enclosed the factory perimeter, with burly security guards patrolling back and forth inside. However, this level of security posed little challenge to Lynch. He simply stood under a streetlamp outside the wire fence pretending to wait for someone for a few minutes, then used a coal cart to slip out of the guards' sight and easily followed it into the factory grounds.

Lynch had estimated the night before that maintaining a continuous state of lurking had a maximum limit of around thirty minutes. However, occasions requiring uninterrupted lurking were rare; turning it on and off naturally multiplied its duration. As such, he was not stingy about using the ability. Upon entering, he left the coal cart's cover and stood in a patch of shadow, gazing across the entire factory grounds.

His only impression was that it was utterly lifeless.

The workers here all wore matching coarse cloth overalls, and they were quite numerous—dozens were scurrying back and forth between the workshops alone. Yet observing from a distance, Lynch noticed that many workers appeared completely numb, their eyes glazed over as they mechanically repeated monotonous tasks. Even when called upon by nearby coworkers, they took a long time to react, sluggish to an unsettling degree.

It was as if he were looking at a crowd of lifeless walking corpses.

Could the silent film Modern Times actually be real?

Lynch shook his head, clearing the stray thoughts from his mind. Now was not the time for such musings; he had real business to attend to after sneaking in.

To figure out what had happened to little Janet, he first had to find where she worked. Lynch hadn't anticipated running into an issue here, but now he realized the factory was far larger than imagined—there were over a dozen workshop buildings, likely divided into even finer sections inside, and hundreds of workers.

Finding the specific spot in such a massive place was no easy task. Watching the workers coming and going, Lynch found himself in a bit of a quandary.