A month had passed since that terrifying storm, and after being stalled for several days, the massive machinery of Old Dunling rumbled back to life. The furnaces were rekindled, the factory machines propelled the assembly lines, and the scorching steam and gray smoke rose into the sky once more. Everything was just as usual, nothing had changed.
After a month, people still occasionally ntioned that storm, with the radio broadcasting so bizarre tales spawned from it, like the rainstorm creature and such. However, people would just smile at each other; there were no creatures in this world, it was all just people’s imaginations.
In the eyes of the citizens, it was just an unusual storm. They knew nothing of the secret war that happened under the downpour.
The world remained the sa, harmonious and beautiful, with everyone playing their fixed roles, doing what belonged to them. So were eager to live, while others hurried to die.
The central train station of Old Dunling was bustling with people, warm light filtering through the do, bathing the place in a golden hue, like a glorious palace.
No one knew how long such clear weather would last, but bathed in this precious sunlight, everyone wore smiles on their faces.
Mrs. Van Rudd slowly sat down on the bench by the platform with her luggage. She glanced at her watch; there was still so ti before her train arrived.
She didn’t look well, her face devoid of color as if she had endured sothing exhausting, draining all her energy.
Just like she once told Lorenzo, she had set her eyes on a small town far from Old Dunling, where she planned to spend her remaining years with her savings. It would be a wonderful ti, a place sparsely populated and perpetually sunny.
Mrs. Van Rudd thought of the wonderful things, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t smile, nor did she have much to look forward to anymore.
"Well, I’ll see you off here."
A voice sounded from the other side. Bola, carrying the remaining luggage, walked up to Mrs. Van Rudd. He didn’t sit down, as if he was in a hurry to leave.
"Yes, thank you, Bola? I rember that’s your na, right?" Mrs. Van Rudd looked at Bola and asked.
Mrs. Van Rudd knew Bola, but they weren’t close. He was there for Lorenzo, and if it weren’t for Lorenzo, Bola wouldn’t have co here at all.
"Yes."
"I rember appearance matters a lot in your line of work, I’ve morized your look. You won’t encounter any misfortune, will you?" Mrs. Van Rudd joked.
"How could it be? After all, as the ’landlord’, you’ve helped a lot, and after today we’ll probably never et again. Maybe you’ll be dead in a few years."
Seven years ago, to deal with the foreigner Lorenzo, Bola simply dumped him on Mrs. Van Rudd, not expecting so many things to happen afterward, completely beyond imagination.
"Oh? Really? I thought there’s no such thing as ’retirent’ in your line of work." Mrs. Van Rudd said, surprised.
Mrs. Van Rudd knew nothing of the inside story; she didn’t even know about the existence of demons. In her eyes, Bola was a gang leader in the Lower City District, managing so thugs, while Lorenzo claid to be a detective, but was most likely an assassin serving the dark.
Most people might be terrified, but as a forr aerial cavalry, Mrs. Van Rudd didn’t care about these things; she rather found it interesting.
"I just didn’t expect you to see off in person, considering you are... a gang leader?"
"More or less." Bola replied.
"Was it Lorenzo’s request? Or his will or sothing? This guy’s disappearances never lasted more than half a month. Even if it did, he would leave a note in advance... I was just joking, but that guy seriously thought I’d throw his stuff away."
Mrs. Van Rudd said, sowhat nostalgically. It was just a joking threat, but Lorenzo took it seriously, always leaving a note and a month’s rent whenever he went on a long "business trip."
"But this ti, he didn’t leave a note, nor did he pay the rent. He’s been missing for a month. Is he dead? It would make sense; after working in your line of work for so long, to have survived this long, he’s already considered lucky, right?"
Mrs. Van Rudd, looking as if she had seen through everything, figured that as an assassin, Lorenzo eventually failed in one of his operations, getting pierced by a stray bullet and dying like a wild dog on the roadside.
This guess wasn’t exactly accurate, but when thinking about it, it wasn’t that far off either.
"I’m not sure, maybe he’s dead, or maybe he’s not. After all, we haven’t found his body yet." Bola replied.
"Did it happen during that storm?"
"Yes."
"That’s really awful. Maybe his body got washed away by the river and is now feeding fish sowhere at the seabed. That rain was really heavy."
Although it was a serious matter, the two of them talked about it quite leisurely.
"What about Hig?"
Mrs. Van Rudd asked again.
Bola fell silent, rembering Lorenzo’s roommate and the apprehension operation that happened in front of 121A Cork Street at that ti.
According to Black Mountain Hospital’s records, Hig had been corrupted, and in the subsequent body recovery, the cleaners confird the identity of the body, Hig had been transford into a demon.
Looking at Mrs. Van Rudd’s aged face, the usually indifferent Bola suddenly hesitated.
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