Old Dunling, a miraculous city of wonder, steel and machinery, wealth and power. Every word used to describe it can ignite the most primal desires in people, yet so many are blinded by these desires, never contemplating the cost of it all, or the people at the base of the pyramid.
Fortunately, the winter chill had not yet departed, and the cold air was not overly putrid, but even so, Lorenzo couldn’t help but frown.
Dead fish floated on the river’s surface, and various filths were casually discarded there, where germs and death brewed.
Hundreds of years ago, the Black Death swept across the Western world, with people dying incessantly. The high mortality rate drove everyone to the brink of madness, even affecting the rule of the Evangelical Church. Under endless death, people no longer believed in that elusive God, and their staunch faith began to waver.
It was a dark era, but at the end of darkness, there is always light.
The progression of history moved slowly forward. Amidst the shadow of death, order collapsed; people no longer held devout beliefs. Instead of austere asceticism, they chose to seize the mont. Thus, among corpses and bones, the brilliance of human arts rose from decaying carcasses, accumulating over the not-so-distant years to erupt as the Renaissance.
With such a tragic history preceding it, when the chanical Institute began Old Dunling’s overall design, they incorporated sanitary facilities within the Furnace Pillars, where water flowed with filth, undergoing several purification processes and boiler combustion, returning to the earth as mist.
Of course, sotis they’d pour hundreds of tons of disinfectant into the Furnace Pillars; in the dead of night, the vaporized gas purifies the entire city... and naturally, a bit of sothing else could also be added, like an alchemical potion to accelerate pollution degradation.
It’s like a self-sustaining ecosystem, except this system is built from steel and flas. From the look of many years of operation, it’s not too bad.
"It slls awful," Lorenzo said.
Though the chanical Institute did their best, the water quality here was still worrying before going through the purification of the Furnace Pillars. Luckily, they wouldn’t stay long; they’d rush out through the westward sea outlet and rge back into the ocean.
"Welco to the lower strata of society, Mr. Lorenzo Hols," Pres said earnestly.
People busied themselves unloading at the docks; despite their efforts, they could not earn much in a day. This was also the fate of most stowaways; without legitimate status, they could only work illicitly, earning a ager wage, ultimately hiding in the chaotic Lower City District.
This is the living state for most people in Old Dunling—not much splendor or affluence; everyone is just a small cog in the machine.
"Get used to it, Lorenzo," Pres said, thinking this guy who had road the Lower City District for so long would have been used to it by now.
The two moved forward on the dock. After the stowaways were found, the cargo ship was impounded and had not left the port.
"Let’s see if there’s any clue on the ship... though regardless of any clue, we might eventually have to head to the Lower City District..."
Pres said nothing more.
The Lower City District was a chaotic place, but amidst the chaos, it had its own order. Generally, once stowaways reached there, Pres was more concerned about their personal safety; there was no need for the police to bother catching them, as they’d leave on their own once they could no longer endure the Lower City District.
Actually, this case didn’t need investigating at all; the two were simply using it as an excuse to have fun and slack off.
But Lorenzo’s mind was entirely different from what Pres thought; he was extrely wary of anything related to Florence... or rather, the Evangelical Church.
According to Arthur’s information, the Pope was trying to form an alliance with Ingwig, and a new Order had already been established. But the problem was that the Revelation had been taken by Lawrence. Where would the Evangelical Church acquire new Secret Blood from?
All of this remained shrouded in heavy mist. While Lorenzo had dispelled quite a bit, he still hadn’t uncovered the truth.
After Lawrence’s death, the Purification chanism was fully mobilized. Seemingly calm on the surface, Ingwig was already on high alert. Starting from Old Dunling, they were comprehensively searching for traces of demons, trying to find the Revelation taken by Lawrence.
Yet, in the end, they found nothing, as if the Revelation was rely a lie.
Lorenzo knew the crisis had not been resolved; it was rely postponed.
"Is it here?" Lorenzo stopped and asked, looking at the nearby cargo ship.
Pres checked the file and, based on the records, said, "Yes, this is the place."
The two nodded. After Pres showed his badge, the guard let them in.
According to the captain, he didn’t know there were people on his ship. It was a cargo ship, and beyond where the sailors lived, there were few places for anyone to rest. He couldn’t figure out how those stowaways endured to reach Old Dunling in such inhospitable conditions.
"We should have brought the captain along," Lorenzo said. The containers stacked like a maze.
"He’s in detention," Pres said, holding the file and leading the way.
They reached the lower level of the cargo ship, where hay filled the wooden crates, seemingly containing fragile items.
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