Chapter 106: Chapter 110: What a Coincidence
Plunder City-State, in the antique shop of the Lower City District, Duncan held a copy of the City-State Weekly behind the counter, seemingly reading the newspaper content casually.
Suddenly, he blinked twice, his previously unfocused gaze sharpening as he glanced at the newspaper in his hand and nonchalantly turned it upside down.
The front page headline detailed a recent major event in the city—the esteed Bishop Valentin of the Deep Sea Church would soon preside over a massive prayer event, during which bells and steam whistles from over ten churches across the city would sound to summon the power of the Storm Goddess to bless the city.
As a prelude to this prayer event, Governor Dante Wayne had congratulated the cathedral last night and presented a gift…
Printed on the front page was the image of the City-State’s governor—a middle-aged man with a stern expression, grey hair, tall and thin figure, and most notably, a frightening scar on his face, with a prosthetic eye replacing the original.
Clearly, these were the remnants of so deadly accident.
Duncan’s gaze slowly swept over the newspaper, but his mind envisioned the face of the young judge nad “Fenna”—who similarly had a scar near her eye, though it did not affect her vision but was quite conspicuous.
He recalled the intelligence he had recently gathered:
Governor Dante Wayne of the City-State was Judge Fenna’s uncle, and both had scars from the sa incident. It had happened eleven years ago near the Cross District in an area known as the “Sixth Street,” where a factory leak and a Heretics’ riot occurred. Dante Wayne and Fenna Wayne were injured by the mob, leaving them with permanent scars, which had now made them staunch supporters of the Deep Sea Church and active combatants against heretic activities in the City-State…
This information was no secret in the City-State, found in both official records and common rumors. Anyone in the Lower City District could easily hear about these events.
Yet again, eleven years ago, and the “factory leak” in the Sixth Street…
Duncan silently turned to the next page of the newspaper, pondering and connecting various clues he had gathered recently.
Sun Shard, Nina’s mories of a great fire, Nina’s recent nightmares, the accidents that befell Judge Fenna and Governor Dante, and the girl nad “Sherry,” seemingly investigating the truth, of unknown origins… All these elents revolved around the “factory leak” incident on Sixth Street eleven years ago. Currently, the Sun Cultists were stirring in the city again, their “Sun God” a blazing entity, akin to an Evil God.
That entity was still crying out for help.
Duncan wasn’t yet ready to deal with this Sun God, but he worried about the naless fire brewing in the shadows touching Nina.
He had released a pigeon early in the morning to gather clues about the heretics in the City-State, and it was still out there roaming. Nina was upstairs packing her books, soon to head for school, as the streets outside the shop gradually buzzed to life, the sound of carriages and pedestrians flowing in through the door, bringing fresh vitality and vigor.
Suddenly light footsteps ca from the stairs, the old wooden floorboards creaking softly. Nina hurried into Duncan’s line of sight, her book bag in one hand and a loaf of bread for lunch in the other, “Uncle! I’m off to school!”
“Slow down, don’t trip. There’s still plenty of ti,” Duncan looked helplessly at her, then rembered sothing, “Right, isn’t today your trip to the museum?”
“Yes! I made plans with a classmate!” Nina turned back with a radiant smile, “I won’t co back for lunch. I’ll go straight to the museum with my classmate. You’ll have to fix sothing to eat yourself.”
“Got it, got it,” Duncan smiled and waved his hands, then repeated his caution, “Slow down. Watch for cars on the road…”
“Alright, alright, goodbye, Uncle!”
With her cheerful shout and brisk footsteps, accompanied by the doorbell tinkling, Nina’s figure vanished from Duncan’s sight.
She crossed the street in front of the antique shop and sprinted into the morning light of Plunder.
As Duncan watched Nina leave, he rembered the previous “ho visit” and what Mr. Morris had told him:
Nina had few friends at school, and most classmates didn’t interact much with her.
But even if she had few friends, it seed there were one or two classmates close enough to invite her to the museum, and clearly she was happy about it, a good sign indeed.
He had inquired yesterday, and the classmate going to the museum with Nina was a quiet girl also from the Lower City District; the two had recently beco friends and were on good terms.
Duncan put down the newspaper in his hands.
Nina had already gone to school and would not return in the afternoon, and as it was a weekday, the antique shop was unlikely to see much business.
Staying here to mind the store seed like a waste of ti, and perhaps he could take a stroll in the city and… investigate so matters.
Duncan sensed Ai Yi’s current location in his mind, issued a “continue patrolling” command to the pigeon, then put on his coat, hung the “Temporarily Closed” sign at the door, locked up, and headed to the nearby bus station.
The bus station was crowded, as it was peak ti for people to commute to work and school. Duncan blended into the crowd and ca up to a standing sign next to the station, looking at the route map it displayed.
His gaze fell on one of the routes—the clear print of a location stood out: the Sixth District.
The place ntioned in official records where a “factory leak” had occurred.
Duncan withdrew his gaze, patiently waiting among the crowd. Buses ca and went, and several steam engine-driven buses carried away half of the people on the platform. After a long wait, he finally saw an old bus shake its way from the end of the road, the number on the front of the bus showing that it was the one he was waiting for.
Duncan squeezed onto the bus along with a large group of people.
The old bus was cramd full of passengers hurrying to work, with every seat and aisle filled. Duncan quietly made his way to a spot near the rear door, patiently waiting for the bus to start.
Accompanied by the hoarse effortful roar of the steam engine, the severely overloaded bus started moving. The ticket collector began to struggle his way through the sardine-packed crowd, calling out for people to buy their tickets as he made his way to Duncan. His deep blue uniform was so compressed it was misshapen.
“Sixth District,” Duncan said to the ticket collector with a friendly smile.
The weary ticket collector, disoriented by the jostling, paused at the sound of Duncan’s voice, seemingly baffled, and asked, “Huh? Where are you going to?”
Duncan furrowed his brow, “Sixth District—I saw it on the route map, doesn’t this bus go there?”
The ticket collector stalled again, then looked up hastily at the route map on the side of the carriage, and as if suddenly waking from a dream, he hurriedly nodded, “Oh right, of course it goes there. Not many people go there usually, I almost forgot… Four pence.”
Not many people go to the Sixth District? It had been eleven years since the accident; hadn’t the area around that factory been rebuilt yet?
A flicker of doubt crossed Duncan’s mind, but he purchased a ticket without showing any concern, then watched as the ticket collector struggled back into the crowd like a warrior forging through enemy ranks.
Now, it was just a quiet wait for the bus to reach the station.
But just then, he suddenly felt a gaze nearby.
That gaze was very brief, as if it had accidentally swept over him and then hurriedly moved away. However, Duncan’s senses were exceptionally sharp. Not only did he feel that the gaze was indeed “directed” at him, but he also faintly sensed a flavor of… fear and evasion, which imdiately made him curiously follow his instincts to look back.
In the next second, he saw a small figure among the crowded passengers at the back of the bus, attempting to shrink away.
He saw the figure, and the figure saw him—thus, the latter instantly stopped, standing rigidly in place as if even scared to dodge further.
It was a girl wearing a black skirt, looking about Nina’s age, with a peculiar collar around her neck adorned with a small, delicate bell…
It was Sherry.
Duncan raised an eyebrow, hardly expecting things to align so coincidentally, then slowly made his way through the crowd toward the girl—who by now had completely stiffened, watching Duncan approach with a face full of tension and even so fear, not daring to continue dodging or even to turn her head.
Duncan slowly approached her, smiled, and greeted the girl, “We et again—at this ti, are you going to school?”
Sherry mustered all her courage and managed a smile, although before, in front of Gary, she had bravely declared her intent to leverage influential connections. Now, recognizing how frightening Duncan could be, her smile looked more pained than weeping, “Hello… Hello…”
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