11:55 PM.
At this mont, there are five minutes remaining until midnight. The bustling of the Inner City District begins to wind down, pedestrians on the street are few, and mounted police officers patrol along specific routes, whistling with iron whistles and carrying rifles.
Although the bustle is fading, singing still echoes between the buildings, and the intoxicating aroma of alcohol sweetens the air. Thick white fog slowly rises, this steam cos from underground; but unlike in the Outer City District where it’s discharged crudely, it silently flows through gaps in the ground, enveloping everything below.
Eve rarely sees the Inner City District at midnight; she usually would be nestled in her soft bed by now, not wandering around with a crazy detective.
Looking beside her, Lorenzo seed to be waiting for sothing, continually glancing at the ti on his pocket watch.
Since they left the restaurant, Lorenzo had been like this. The great detective kept checking the ti and looking around as if searching for sothing, not saying a word, leaving Eve to simply follow him.
The mist covered everything. From the Zeppelin Airship above, it looked like a white ocean below, with spires and clock towers rising from the grey fog, illuminated like fireflies by electric lights.
"We’re here."
Suddenly, Lorenzo said this, guiding Eve to stand by the roadside.
"Here?"
Eve didn’t quite understand. They were at a tram stand, but according to the titable, the last train had stopped running two hours earlier.
Around them was just hazy grey fog; the heated steam ward the evening breeze, brushing against Eve’s cheeks, the warmth feeling like a monster’s breath hiding in the mist.
The girl instinctively held her dress tightly; beneath it weren’t shapely thighs but rather a series of dangerous weapons.
"Yes, here."
Lorenzo spoke softly, his gaze fixed beyond the mist.
"The steam tram of Old Dunling has always been at a loss; passenger fares are not enough to cover the costs, it’s supported by taxes from big tycoons. To alleviate this situation, the steam trams are also rented out.
The view shifted to beneath the platform, where the tallic tracks glead. But under Lorenzo’s gaze, the shine began to tremble.
"You, as an aristocrat, should be familiar with this. Companies lease or sell compartnts privately, and when needing to travel, they call upon the trams. Your Phoenix family is stronger, and you directly have a train.
Aristocrats typically decorate compartnts lavishly, like small palaces. When hosting a party, this moving palace stops in front of guests’ doors, waiting as attendants bow and salute."
Lorenzo spoke of things Eve wouldn’t know.
"There are other uses, such as a certain Count taking his lover into the compartnt, embraced tightly; the compartnt is completely isolated from the driver. The driver would have no idea what happens behind them; they’d continue along Old Dunling’s tracks until the Count requested to return ho."
Eve frowned slightly, showing an expression of disgust.
"How do you know this?"
"Because the Count’s wife is my client. You might not believe it, but I’m quite favored by wealthy won."
Lorenzo said gleefully.
Since his first mistress case, that wife introduced Lorenzo to more troubled noblewon. They greatly appreciated his blunt yet reassuring thods, and for a ti, a detective dubbed "Mistress Slayer" circulated within high society.
That Count’s case was the pinnacle of Lorenzo’s career in catching mistresses. The employer knew her husband’s misdeeds but could never catch him, so she hired Lorenzo, who tracked the Count for a long ti and discovered he had purchased a compartnt as a moving palace.
Finally, Lorenzo provided a location to the client, where he orchestrated a tram derailnt accident.
"You wouldn’t believe the expressions on their faces when those two were thrown naked from the compartnt!"
Seeing Lorenzo’s excited deanor, Eve’s face darkened; it’s no longer just a matter of his nasty character.
"Why didn’t you continue doing that then?"
"Doing that often ruins one’s reputation, inevitably leading to trouble."
Lorenzo appeared noble, but the real reason was the Count underwent three months of psychological therapy; after all, standing naked before a crowd was ntally overwhelming. Upon recovering, the first thing he did was seek revenge on Lorenzo, forcing Lorenzo to hide in Bola for nearly a month.
Lorenzo’s nonsense lightened the mood a bit, slightly pushing back the damp chill.
"Do you have space in there?"
Pointing under Eve’s skirt, Lorenzo suddenly asked, completely unaware of the impropriety.
"What... what do you want to do?"
Eve’s cheeks flushed; this detective truly was neurotic, with no predicting what he’d do next.
Lorenzo produced a silver revolver from sowhere, its ammo chamber engraved with ghostly figures, heavy and loaded with bullets.
"I need you to help hide it. Sabo, despite being a crude Viking, has learned so etiquette from Old Dunling’s culture. At his party, he’ll completely search n, even if a blade is hidden in their buttocks crease. But he won’t disrespect won."
Handing the revolver to Eve, Lorenzo stood beside her. With clothes tidied, the main event awaited; he needed to be serious.
Eve didn’t quite understand, but obediently she tied the revolver around her sash; beneath the long dress were tight-fitting clothes, ready for Eve to rip away the dress for combat.
With dagger and gun, Eve was never just an ordinary noble girl; as a child of the Phoenix family, while other aristocrats were born with silver spoons, Eve was born biting bullets.
The Phoenix family rose from the ruins of the Radiant War like a phoenix. Even as the phoenix princess, Eve still bore the pungent sulfur sll, a mark etched in her blood.
"Ti’s up."
Lorenzo suddenly said; Eve still didn’t understand what was happening. Since leaving the restaurant with Lorenzo, she hadn’t grasped the situation, yet soon the clock struck.
It was a long, serene chi from the tallest building in the Inner City District. After its resonance, the low echo wandered through the streets, like ghosts not willing to fade away.
A strange sensation surged in Eve’s heart; suddenly, she felt afraid.
The cold invaded her thin long dress, icy as ghostly claws brushing her waist.
Sohow the street had only her and Lorenzo left; distant hoofbeats softly approached, the vigilant night watch, yet shrouded by dense mist Eve saw nothing, only streetlights scattered into large halos like monster eyes glowing behind the grey fog.
An icy breeze brushed Eve’s face.
Turning back, Eve felt nearly suffocated.
A pitch-black steam tram now stood before the platform, its arrival cloaked by thick mist, silent, without illumination; only fresh steam heated the surroundings, like a ghost from afar.
This was an hour when no steam trams should run, yet here was this eerie vehicle stopping right in front of her, without a number or signs, even its windshield was jet black; Eve couldn’t even be certain if anyone was inside.
"Hold my hand; tonight’s script has us play a couple."
Lorenzo’s voice ca from beside her; he raised his arm, inviting Eve.
A couple?
Eve imdiately wanted to draw her gun and shoot the damned detective. Under these circumstances, her nerves were tense, but the suddenly opened tram door interrupted her thoughts.
An attendant dressed in black, upon seeing Lorenzo, nodded slightly. Lorenzo skillfully handed him two coins.
Rather than a lion, the coins were engraved with a Shrike holding a thorn, almost like a pass. The attendant stepped aside, clearing their way onto the tram; inside, it was pitch-black, nothing visible, appearing as if leading into an endless abyss.
"Lor—"
Eve wanted to say sothing else, but unease kept gnawing at her. She always trusted her intuition, yet at this mont Lorenzo gave her no chance to speak, smiling as he took her hand to board the steam tram.
The steam tram began moving slowly, silently disappearing into the grey mist, as if it never appeared at all.
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