Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

When they arrived at the club, it was already two in the afternoon, and now it was approaching dusk. In the misty haze, the carriage slowly set off. Shard was thinking about his spending and repayment plans, while Miss Beyas was probably pondering the rewards she would gain after reporting important information.

Thus, the two of them sat opposite each other in the carriage, though their conversation was sporadic.

Whenever they touched on certain sensitive topics, such as the earthquake in Lakeside Manor and the southern part of Tobesk, or the operation of the Detective Agency, Shard would immediately bring up the other's "honorary officer" status, forcing Miss Beyas to actively come up with new topics.

The detective, in a good mood, even planned to take Mia out for a big dinner tonight. He had never had so much money since coming to this world, and although he knew he needed to save, it was okay to celebrate occasionally.

"But I must not forget tomorrow night's 'receiving goods' task."

Shard thought to himself as he looked out of the carriage window. As he had recently memorized the map of Tobesk, he knew the major street they were passing was called Hammerhead Street.

From the way the streets were named, it was clear this was not a main street of the city; in fact, it bordered the slums of the Tobesk Eastern District, and even the coachmen were reluctant to travel this route at night.

The characteristics of the Steam Age were displayed right in front of Shard through the tiny window, the air tinged with a scent of scorching reminding him of this civilization's features.

On the relatively narrow street, metal pipes climbed the walls on either side. Shops along the street drew branches from these pipes into their buildings, while apartment buildings directly requested steam and gas from the main underground pipes.

Barefoot children played on the sidewalks, and disheveled beggars lay carelessly on straw mats against the wall, their wooden bowls empty.

An occasional middle-aged gentleman, clutching his nose and wearing a look of disgust, hurried past on the edge of the street. The coachman's shouting reminded people ahead to move aside, and the rhythmic sound of horse hooves hitting the uneven ground was particularly resonant.

Although the impact of this scene was not as shocking as when Shard first stepped out of his house and saw the era, it still gave him a different feeling.

"I've noticed you've been watching those children on the street,"

said Miss Beyas, who was utterly bored during the carriage ride. She pressed her hands against her skirt, sitting in a very ladylike manner.

"I just sometimes think that some people are born without having to worry about hunger, while others have to spend their entire lives..."

"Escaping hunger?"

asked Miss Beyas, but Shard's gaze did not move from the window:

"The poor can't escape these things in their lifetimes. They can only use their lives to free the next generation or even the one after that from hunger."

Miss Beyas did not expect Shard to say such things. She wasn't sure how to respond, but she understood his meaning:

"Detective, instead of thinking about these things, it might be better to do some practical work. For instance, I participate in the charity work of the Sun Church every week. That's how I can help these children." Explore stories on empire

"But you can help one or two, maybe even dozens. What about the rest of the children?"

"But we are only mortals, not deities. We can only do what we are capable of doing."

Miss Beyas evidently had her own opinion on this matter:

"If the goal is too distant, it might be better to focus on what's right in front of us. Even if we can't reach that far-off goal in our lifetime, at least we are moving forward and inspiring others to move forward as well. In time, someone will reach the end. Detective, what is that look?"

Shard looked at her, somewhat surprised:

"Nothing, I just didn't expect to hear such an answer from a young lady. It's a remarkable way of thinking."

Perhaps this is the chosen one Miss Annette was looking for, someone worthy to stand before that final door. If Shard had merely respected her due to her identity before, he now genuinely admired her ideas.

An Outlander who had seen so much could understand this truth, yet this young girl from a relatively ignorant world had such an awareness before even reaching eighteen.

"Is that so? These are just my own thoughts, nothing special... Detective, your insights are quite remarkable as well."

Such praise made Miss Beyas somewhat embarrassed.

Though this era seemed prosperous, society needed change. The beauty of the Steam Age, whether back home or here, was built on certain foundations.

Being more experienced and knowledgeable, the Foreigner of course wouldn't share his own thoughts, as that would only lead to others regarding him strangely.

Miss Beyas' ideas were actually quite good, but in this world of mystery and the supernatural, while the power of mortals might be insufficient, the power of deities might just be enough.

After the carriage left Hammerhead Street, it continued westward. On this boring Wednesday evening in summer, under a hazy mist, it seemed as if even the city was about to fall asleep.

Perhaps it was having experienced too much at the Lucky Southern Cross Club, Shard was feeling sleepy during the silent moments of their conversation. Miss Beyas opposite him seemed to feel the same, and unknowingly, both drifted off to sleep.

In his dream, Shard once again stood under the starry sky on a rice path looking up at the silver moon, thinking about being in the "Creator of Innocence"'s illusionary realm where the night sky had only one moon. Just as he was about to express his thoughts in his dream, the voice that echoed beside him made him wake up:

"There is danger."

The "other self" of a Circle Sorcerer is the price of touching the mystic; another voice in their head is a mark that distinguishes them from ordinary people. This "other self" does not need to sleep, and it's difficult to define exactly what their existence is like, but most theories suggest it's another facet of the soul.

Nevertheless, Circle Sorcers need not worry about unexpected happenings in their sleep, for they always have "another pair of eyes" keeping watch.

Though the whispering in Shard's head was odd, it still possessed all the functions it should have. Therefore, when a warning of danger appeared in his ear and the soul's Ring of Fate began to turn, Shard shook off the strange drowsiness.

"Ha, I knew this outing was bound to encounter trouble!" he muttered.

Far from being surprised, he actually felt somewhat pleased that his suspicions had been confirmed.

Opening his eyes, he was still sitting in the carriage, except that Miss Beyas was gone, leaving only her lady's handbag on the seat. The four-wheeled carriage had stopped moving, and from the half-open window looking out, it seemed to be parked in a secluded alley. The dim light of dusk barely illuminated the narrow alley, and the pungent smell almost made him cry out.

Shard hadn't been asleep for very long.

"What happened?" he asked.

"You and your companion were affected by sorcery; about 10 seconds ago, she was taken away."

"What's going on now?"Nôv(el)B\\jnn

The murmuring voice didn't respond, but instead, voices from outside the window did. It was a conversation between two men:

"They entered the club's room and conducted the search, right?"

The voice was gruff and strong, the accent clearly not local.

"Yes, I saw it with my Arcane Technique. The one in the car is an ordinary detective, this woman is a Circle Sorcerer from the True God Church; I saw her when I was at Lakeside Manor helping the Silver-Eyed One leave,"

This voice had a local accent, and it seemed to be the coachman's.