"This station is Inner London. The tro will be stopped for fifteen minutes. All passengers, please disembark in an orderly fashion..."
The soothing female voice on the intercom announced the stop. Baron grabbed his briefcase and blended into the crowd as he disembarked.
The scene that had unfolded in the carriage just monts ago still lingered in his mind.
Five robbers were taken down by one of the Battle Nuns in a single instant. It happened so fast that Baron didn’t even get a clear look at the Nun’s face, only managing to see she was using a three-foot-long Japanese Sword.
But the flash of her blade seed to be thirty feet long!
Lawrence hadn’t lied to him. Once you crossed paths with these so-called Law Enforcers, victory was impossible.
The only thing to do was run—an endless escape.
Fortunately, it seed Baron wasn’t on their high-priority wanted list yet. Perhaps that was partly because he was already afflicted with the Ti Death Judgnt.
After all, a death row inmate already sentenced and destined to perish on the run wasn’t worth them going to such great lengths.
The thought of the Ti Death Judgnt depressed Baron for a mont, but he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind.
’No matter what, I have to survive. Survive by any ans necessary.’
’I’ve already died once. I definitely don’t want to go through that a second ti.’
Baron was about to follow the crowd off the platform when a hand stopped him.
"Sir, your ticket."
It was the train conductor from earlier. Even after the whole ordeal with the robbers, he still rembered that Baron hadn’t presented a ticket.
The conductor stared silently at Baron. A few people nearby noticed the scene and paused to watch.
’If your security checks were this thorough, the robbers would have never gotten on board... Of course, I suppose I wouldn’t have either.’
Baron emotionlessly pulled the ticket from his coat.
He had pilfered it.
After looking at the ticket, the conductor breathed a sigh of relief. The suspicion in his eyes gradually dissipated, and he bowed slightly.
"My apologies, sir. Checking tickets is a fundantal duty of every Dragon tro crew mber. I hope I haven’t inconvenienced you."
Baron waved his hand to show he didn’t mind and was about to leave when soone jogged over and whispered in the conductor’s ear.
A sudden, baseless sense of foreboding washed over Baron. He turned and walked away.
Sure enough, in the next mont, the conductor’s expression changed from humble to grave, and then to solemn.
He quickly stepped forward to block Baron’s path. "Sir, please wait a mont."
"Is there sothing else?"
’Don’t tell I’ve been found out.’
Baron’s heart tightened, but he made a show of looking at his watch, indicating that he was in a hurry.
The conductor gave a polite smile. "Sir, the broadcast reported six robbers, but we only found five in our carriage..."
His gaze fell on Baron’s briefcase.
Baron imdiately understood. They thought he was an accomplice.
"We’d like to inspect your briefcase," the conductor said.
"Infringing upon a citizen’s freedom and right to privacy is not permitted by the Law," Baron said coolly.
He pushed up his black-frad glasses. "Are you unaware of the new Old Inheritance Bill published by the Prole Court?"
The conductor was stunned. He was not.
’Of course he isn’t,’ Baron thought. ’I just made it up.’
Baron pressed his advantage, his voice low. "As far as I know, the Dragon tro is a private enterprise. I doubt you have any law enforcent authority over passengers, do you?"
"But..." the conductor started to say.
"You don’t trust ? Or is it that you don’t trust my status as a Bloodless?"
Seeing that many passengers were now watching, Baron proactively revealed his status, steering public opinion to his favor.
"Or are you saying you suspect my briefcase contains the banknotes stolen by those robbers? And all because I was slow to pull out my ticket on the train, and just so happen to be a Bloodless?"
Baron held his briefcase up to the onlookers and said calmly, "If re suspicion is enough to force a man to pour out his guts just to prove his innocence, then I suppose Jesus must have been an Egyptian."
"Why?"
The conductor asked woodenly, overwheld by Baron’s confident air.
"Because they turned him into a Mummy, you idiot!"
Soone shouted from the crowd, followed by a burst of jeering laughter.
The conductor’s face flushed beet red.
Baron spread his hands towards the conductor. "Sir, you have your job, and I have my rights."
"If you insist on looking, then let’s leave it to Destiny. Destiny is the fairest judge of all."
As he spoke, he casually fiddled with the combination lock on the briefcase.
CLICK.
The briefcase sprang open, and two ornately patterned shotguns fell to the ground.
Baron: "..."
The conductor: "..."
The onlookers: "..."
’So this was the choice that was supposed to turn my luck around? So great luck I’ve stumbled into!’
Baron recalled what Lawrence had told him, and a flood of emotions washed over him.
He didn’t forget to act, however. He quickly bent down and scooped up the two shotguns. Drawing on experience gleaned from watching countless short-form videos, he checked the safeties and loaded them. He shoved one gun into his pocket, took a large stride forward, and pressed the muzzle of the other against the temple of his new hostage.
’A very faint scent of incense... a soft build... I didn’t notice before. Is this a woman?’
His gaze shifted downward. A Twin Rose hairclip.
It was the young girl from the carriage who had identified him as a Bloodless.
’Great. I’ve taken an acquaintance hostage.’
Facing the n in black who were rapidly surrounding him, he clicked off the shotgun’s safety and, as if he had rehearsed it many tis in his mory, shouted:
"Let go! Or I’ll kill her!"
...
「1987, November 17, 5:04 a.m.」
「Inner London, Ro Street.」
The buildings and atmosphere were both gloomy and gray. Pedestrians on the street were as sparse as morning stars. There were only a few early-rising stalls selling newspapers, croissants, and coffee, with an occasional flower girl or hawker passing by and shouting their wares.
The biggest difference from the Outer Side was that, among the hawkers they passed, there were occasionally Dwarves.
Having escaped from the tro, Baron leaned against a phone booth on the roadside. Hiding his face with a newspaper, he watched the Knights in Armor astride their patrol lions disappear into the distance.
Once he confird no one was following him, he walked straight up to a little girl selling flowers.
"Sir, would you like a bouquet of blue roses from Yafurheim? The Forest Elves love to drink the dew that gathers on them in the morning. Only seventy pence," Julis said in a crisp, clear voice.
"What price do you usually get the flowers for?"
"Fifty pence a bouquet, sir. We have to get up early to get them... They’re all fresh..." Julis, thinking Baron found the price too high, said hurriedly.
"I’ll help you sell your flowers. I can sell them all within an hour. How about a ten-pound service fee?" Baron stated his purpose directly.
Julis: "?"
Before Julis could react, Baron picked up a pen from the flower stall and, under the original "One bouquet 70 pence" sign, he added, "Flower buyback: 160 pence for two bouquets."
Julis was about to say sothing, but Baron pulled open his trench coat, revealing the handle of his gun to the little girl.
Julis pouted but ultimately didn’t cry.
...
"Little girl, two bouquets of roses."
"That will be 140 pence."
"Now I’m selling them to you."
"Here is 1 pound and 60 pence." Julis handed over the money, looking aggrieved.
The Jewish gentleman who had bought the flowers looked at the coins in his hand. His eyes darted about, and he stroked his beard. "How many flowers do you have left at your stall?"
"There are 50 bouquets left, sir."
The Jewish gentleman counted out seven five-pound notes from his pocket. With a grand wave of his hand, he declared, "I’ll take them all."
Looking at the two baskets of blue, white, and red roses, the Jewish gentleman smiled. "Now, I’m selling them all to you."
"We’re not buying, thank you."
Baron, who had been pretending to be a passerby, folded his newspaper, snatched the money from the stall, and ran off, pulling Julis by the hand.
The Jewish gentleman was left dumbfounded.
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