Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Leaving the house and stepping onto the main street, he truly entered this world. In contrast to the city's noise, Shard, as he merged into it, seemed as inconspicuous as a droplet entering the sea.

He spoke rarely, simply heading towards his destination, the "Nightingale Club." Along the way, he walked and listened, learning about this world, the city, and everything around him.

Simply put, this world resembled the Steam Revolution of the 19th century, only the steam industry here was far more prosperous than in the past, seemingly advancing along the path of steam without any detour.

While harmful black smoke spewed from factory chimneys, various strange inventions were being created, and the economy soared with the growth of productivity.

Just as Shard had guessed, the city he was now in was the capital of the Northern Kingdom, Draleon Kingdom, in Tobesk City. It was the jewel of the northern part of the continent, a convergence point of human civilization, and the essence of the era.

A big city had the appearance of a big city, though constrained by the shackles of the era. Leaving the main streets and entering alleys, one inevitably encountered piles of feces and garbage, but the features of a big city still impressed themselves upon Shard within an hour's brief journey.

Fortunately, the "Nightingale Club" was not far from the city center. If he had to cross the entire city, Shard might not have reached it by midnight. The crucial point was that Shard had no money for a carriage ride.

Along this journey, he also gained more information about this world from a bystander's perspective. The most important piece was knowing the monetary system, which was at least in this Kingdom, divided into Gold Pounds, shillings, and pence, with 1 pound equal to 20 shillings and 1 shilling equal to 12 pence.

Of course, these denominations sounded very similar to British currency, not by coincidence, but because Shard had translated three different currencies from the language of Otherworld into familiar terms, as the method of conversion was quite similar.

Unfortunately, the fact was that the banknote Shard found, marked with the number "10," was worth 10 pence. As per the current purchasing power, this was not even enough to pay for a carriage ride from his own doorstep to the club entrance.

But if he was frugal, using 10 pence to compete with the children and housewives of the slums at a bakery about to close at dusk for the cheapest breadcrumbs, he could ensure he wouldn't starve for three days.

"At least it's a time of peace. Our own Draleon Kingdom, being one of the largest human kingdoms, has occasional friction with the powerful United Kingdom of Carsonrick to the south, but relatively speaking, this is an era of peace and development, an era of progress... I'm quite lucky."

Shard was good at comforting himself.

The world was temporarily peaceful. The Draleon Kingdom in the north of the Old Continent and the United Kingdom of Carsonrick occupying the south nearly divided the world. A full-scale war had ended decades ago, and although undercurrents still flowed, there was at least a façade of peace.

Club culture seemed to be a special culture of this era. From the investigation report, Shard knew that Lady Lassoya, the person being investigated, visited the "Nightingale Club" every weekend and stayed there for at least three hours.

The report from Hamilton Detective speculated that this was the place where Lady Lassoya and Mr. Lawrence had their secret rendezvous. Whenever Lady Lassoya appeared in the club, Mr. Lawrence was sure to enter as well.

This was a private club with membership access, and since Shard had no entry permission, he walked towards Valente Walkway after turning at the street corner, and according to what was recorded in the investigation report, stationed himself opposite the club in front of the news agency to observe.

That was the news agency of the "Tobesk City Evening Post," rumored to have shares owned by the Royal Family. Saturdays were the busiest days for the news agency as it was the usual day for the King's speech and the Council's reports.

The entrance to the news agency would gather a crowd at this time, waiting for new information to be disseminated. Professional journalists had of course already set out, while those who remained at the news agency's door were people hoping for a stroke of luck.

Shard planned to blend in with them. Although it was already midday, Lady Lassoya typically did not appear at the club in the morning. So, if lucky, he could quickly spot the target.

As long as he could record the lady's time of appearance and departure, the report would be considered complete.

Finishing this task so effortlessly gave Shard a sense of unreality. But after all, Hamilton had nearly completed everything, so this was indeed one of the "inheritances" left by that deceased gentleman.

Shard held one of Mr. Hamilton's inheritances, a pocket watch in his hand, so when he stood by the mailbox outside the news agency, pretending to wait for someone while extensively observing the club entrance across the street, he finally saw the target appear and immediately compared it repeatedly with the black-and-white photo clipped in the report.

He confirmed and recorded 1:23, the time when Lady Lassoya appeared.

The lady was fashionably dressed, with lace trim on her skirt and gem-studded hair accessories that clearly were expensive. She arrived directly at the club entrance by carriage, holding a fabric umbrella even though the weather was overcast.

She appeared to be about thirty years old, of average height but well-rounded in figure. Although her face was heavily powdered, she was clearly a beautiful woman.

Concerned about being noticed and knowing his lack of experience in tailing, Shard averted his gaze soon after confirming the target.

[Observe her ring.]

"What?"

The murmuring voice of a woman in his mind appeared again. Although Shard did not know exactly what she was, he still shifted his gaze towards Lady Lassoya.

At that moment, the doorman of the club was greeting her. As the woman turned around, Shard clearly saw the ring. Strangely, the ring was not set with a gemstone or diamond but looked more like a small pebble.

Of course, since he was observing from across the street and the pedestrians on the street occasionally blocked his view, he was not sure if he had seen correctly. Lady Lassoya quickly entered the club, not giving Shard many opportunities to observe further.

"What does it mean? Why ask me to pay attention to that ring?"

He asked the voice in his mind again, but the murmuring did not respond to his inquiry. This frustrated Shard, but he knew he needed to control his emotions, as he was not a person who got angry easily.

"Sir, what time is it?"

Lost in thought, Shard suddenly heard someone speaking near him. Startled, he thought his actions of blatantly watching the club entrance from across the street had been too conspicuous, but the voice made it clear that someone was asking for the time.

"I'm sorry, I forgot to bring my pocket watch."

A gentleman, around forty years old and looking quite refined and amiable, explained his abrupt inquiry. He was wearing a black silk hat and formal attire suitable for a banquet, including a white shirt. His face was somewhat broad, his chin adorned with a neatly trimmed mustache, and his blue eyes were particularly likable.

The middle-aged man smiled at Shard, and after a moment's hesitation, Shard took out the pocket watch he had just placed in the right pocket of his jacket.

"One thirty."

He said, curious about why the middle-aged man was here, as his attire did not suggest he was a journalist waiting for news, unlike Shard, who was carrying a notebook and dressed accordingly.

As if he had heard Shard's thoughts, the middle-aged gentleman said with a smile:

"Thank you for your time. I have an appointment with the editor-in-chief, and I thought I was going to be late since I didn't bring my pocket watch, but it seems I'm just on time."

He then handed out his business card. Shard politely accepted it and also handed out his own. In reality, it was the late Mr. Hamilton's card, which displayed the address and scope of services of the detective agency without a first name, just "Hamilton Detective."

Since Shard had chosen the surname "Hamilton" for himself, he could use these cards. He was glad there was no registry system here; he didn't even need to forge any identification documents.

The middle-aged man was Bill Schneider, who ran a private psychological clinic. Unlike Shard's still unstable profession, Schneider Psychological Clinic was quite formal, and the income from the clinic was obviously much more than that of a detective like Shard, who relied on inheritance for his first investigation.

Evidence of this was that Shard's card looked considerably cheaper compared to the doctor's, both in terms of the paper used and the quality of printing.

"You can find me here if you need anything."

Mr. Schneider said amiably, pointing to the address of the clinic on the card, located in the Eastern District of Tobesk City:

"My treatment range is quite extensive."

He looked at Shard, and in a moment of confusion, Shard felt a chilling sensation as if he was being seen through by those blue eyes.

"Including schizophrenia."

The psychologist said kindly, proficient in communicating with strangers.

"What?"

Shard was taken aback, but before he could inquire further, Mr. Bill Schneider quickly changed the topic:

"By the way, Detective, have you ever considered taking adult education courses through correspondence?"

"Adult education through correspondence?"

The topic changed so swiftly that Shard couldn't keep up:

"I currently have no plans to study psychology."

He mistook the other party for an enthusiastic alumnus of some psychology college.

After being rejected by Shard, the doctor did not persist:

"That's fine then, goodbye."

The doctor nodded toward the detective, pocketed the detective's card, and then turned and walked towards the courtyard of the newspaper office.

"Correspondence... What did Dr. Schneider specifically mean by calling out schizophrenia?"

Shard stood there, silently pondering, then realized the voice in his mind seemed very much like what one calls "schizophrenia."

"You don't have to laugh in my mind, I admit your laughter is very pleasant and charming, surely you're not a product of my schizophrenia."

Shard spoke to the voice in his mind.

Though certain that his situation involved the mystical and was definitely not schizophrenia, he wasn't sure what the passing psychologist had discerned.

"I just left the house and already encountered someone possibly involved with supernatural powers, bad luck or is the density of transcendent beings in this world greater than I imagined? Or, did the psychologist merely mention it in passing, and I'm overthinking?"

Shard thought to himself, carefully storing Dr. Schneider's business card. Regardless, the current commission took precedence. Now that he knew the psychologist's address, he could visit anytime.

At least from the brief interaction, Dr. Schneider seemed to harbor no hostility. But brief interactions can be deceiving, and Shard still wanted to learn a bit more about this world before engaging deeper with others.

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