Rhine Train Station

May 19, 1399, 6:00 AM.

Lynch got up early and ran out of Apartment 221, dressed lightly.

The commission to take little Martha out had to wait until the morning, and he could not afford to disrupt his well-planned strengthening routine.

"Paper, get your paper! The Grant Screw Factory has been hit by a malicious attack from unidentified individuals. Several managers are dead, but the Hall of Order has acted decisively to resolve the crisis and restore normal production as quickly as possible."

The city had already awakened, and there were many people coming and going on the streets. Newsboys waved their fresh papers and began sprinting across the city. At Charles Square, Mrs. Scott's bread cart had not yet appeared, but Lynch was in no hurry. He carried his cane and jogged slowly to the police club next to the Hall of Order, finding the instructor he had booked the day before.

The club was primarily established for the police officers of the Hall of Order. To facilitate training before their shifts, it opened earlier than private clubs, with instructors on duty by seven. The fee of one shilling per hour was not cheap, but in Lynch's view, it was better than losing his life due to insufficient combat ability. This was money that absolutely had to be spent.

Upon beginning professional instruction, Lynch realized his previous ideas were all wrong. What he had been doing was just swinging a stick around wildly; it could not be considered combat at all.

In fact, in this country of gentlemen, Lande, the popularity of the cane had long ago led to the development of a complete system of cane fighting. It was a complex mechanical combat technique that integrated short sticks, rapiers, daggers, hooks, and even whips. Although Lynch did not know why a bizarre weapon like a whip was included, he accepted the instructor's training plan in its entirety, based on the principle that one can never have too many skills.

However, the moment he picked up his own cane, he was mocked by the instructor.

He was holding the cheapest birch cane. It was too brittle and lacked the necessary resilience for daily use, let alone high intensity combat. The instructor tried desperately to push the fighting canes he was selling on commission, some of which even had daggers concealed inside.

The prices were not cheap. A high quality boxwood fighting cane cost over four pounds, while those with concealed daggers exceeded five pounds. As for the best material, red bird cedar, it carried a sky-high price of eight pounds.

Lynch's assets were enough to buy the cheapest boxwood cane, but he eventually refused.

The instructor was, after all, a common person, and the weapons were intended for commoners. Lynch planned to ask Officer Natalie in a few days if there were any mystery relics like the Judgment of Vigen she carried.

Of course, that would definitely not be cheap. Even ordinary ones were eight pounds, so who knew how much a mystery relic weapon would cost.

Damn it, I've earned quite a bit of money, so why am I still so poor? Is poverty an inevitable fate for those walking the path of immortality?

【It is not the fate of the path of immortality, but it is your fate, Lynch.】

‘Thanks, neighbor. Your joke is very funny. Ha, ha.’

While enduring Lady Luna's stinging reminder, Lynch completed his first training session with the instructor. This was where the timely arrival of Cat's Favor became apparent. His coordination and flexibility shocked the professional instructor, who stated that even professionals with long term training rarely showed such performance. He was nothing like a novice, and training someone like him was truly too easy.

However, when Lynch casually asked if the fee could be halved since it was easy, he was kicked out on the grounds that the lesson had ended.

It was truly unfriendly. There were still thirty seconds left! Lynch felt he must be taking revenge, but as a generous gentleman of Lande, he decided not to haggle with him.

Although he felt physically exhausted from the morning's training and had spent a fair amount of money, his mood was actually quite good. He felt that his ability to save his own life had improved a little more.

When he returned to Charles Square, it was not yet nine o'clock. The familiar scent of bread was already drifting over. Mrs. Scott was standing behind the bread stall greeting customers, and as soon as she saw Lynch, she immediately handed him an envelope containing five shillings.

This caught Lynch a bit off guard. There was no evidence to prove that little Janet had been saved by him, and he had been mentally prepared for the old woman to renege on the debt. He had not expected the old woman to be so sensible; not only did she pay, but she also threw in a loaf of white bread.

Upon learning that little Janet was recovering well and no longer experienced mental confusion, and had even gone to school that morning, Lynch felt completely at ease. He returned home satisfied, holding the hot bread and even secretly tearing off a piece to stuff into his mouth on the way.

He did not know if it was just psychological, but the taste was exceptionally sweet.

Martha in the apartment was already dressed and ready, wearing a slightly worn princess dress. When this brat was not being a brat, she was quite beautiful, with golden hair and blue eyes like a doll, waiting in the dining room with her mother for Lynch to return and take her out.

Lynch was a bit uneasy and repeatedly asked Mrs. Maggie to confirm that it was construction workers coming, not plumbers, before he felt safe enough to take Martha out of the house.

The little thing seemed to have recovered well and was already able to run and jump. Having been cooped up at home for several days to heal, she appeared full of energy, running circles around Lynch and drawing the occasional glance from passersby.

No, don't look at us so warmly. We are enemies, the kind that cannot coexist.

Unfortunately, no one could hear Lynch's inner thoughts, and Lynch could only sigh and wave at little Martha. He had expected that the little girl would be too excited to call back, but to his surprise, the moment he beckoned, the little one ran back on her own, took Lynch's hand out of habit, and walked along beside him with a skip in her step.

Lynch felt a sudden surge of pity. He realized that since her father died, the little one had probably not experienced such a time. His beating had actually beaten a sense of dependence into her.

He sighed secretly. Lynch did not pull away. Holding the little thing's soft hand, he asked intentionally or otherwise, "Do you not have to go to school today?"

The little girl immediately pouted, looking at Lynch with resentment, and huffed, "Hmph, it's all because someone beat me until I couldn't get out of bed. Mom asked for a few days off for me. Today is the last day, and I have to go back to class tomorrow. I really want to rest for a few more days."

"That's easy. I'll beat you again, and then you can have a few more days off."

"I don't want that!" The little girl covered her bottom and circled to Lynch's other side, taking his hand again. "You are the worst person. You are not allowed to hit people at will."

"I won't hit you if you tell me honestly what you are going to the train station for."

"I promised to keep it a secret from everyone. Don't ask. I have to keep my word; I can't tell you." The little girl's expression became nervous. After thinking for a moment, she asked, "Doing this is right, isn't it?"

"Hmm, keeping promises is a virtue. I won't force you to say it. But the train station is huge, where exactly are you going?"

"Right at the station entrance, near the square in front of the station."

The train station located in the Grand Cross District was one of the iconic buildings of Rhine City. It was a long, rectangular building hundreds of meters long, with a two-story building in the middle and wings extending out on both sides.

Dozens of trains came and went every day, with countless passengers and goods passing through.

Shortly after nine in the morning, the station had already begun its daily bustle. Huge steam locomotives pulled long carriages, driving out along the tracks in all directions. Lynch was not surprised by Mrs. Maggie's worry; such an environment was still too dangerous for an eight or nine year old girl, no matter how clever or precocious she was.

However, the little thing knew the way better than Lynch did. She had probably run here by herself many times. She dragged Lynch all the way to the most crowded space at the entrance of the station hall, where several green 'blackboards' were standing.

Hmm? Lynch immediately reacted.

There was no more secretive way to make contact than leaving a message on a public bulletin board in the most crowded environment. However...

He felt little Martha wanting to run over and hurriedly grabbed the little one firmly. He pretended to look around as if nothing was wrong, confirming that no suspicious people were watching him, before taking little Martha to the bulletin board.

The moment he got close, Lynch's heart immediately tensed.

A faint but hard to ignore stench drifted from all around the bulletin board.

The stench of ghoul decay.

Was it left by Maya or the hillmen? Should he let little Martha leave a message?

Lynch was caught in a dilemma for a moment.