At first glance, the inner district sounds small. In reality, it was anything but. Sure, it might have been a hundred tis smaller than the outer district, but its sheer size was still nothing to scoff at.
FWOOSH!
Buildings blurred past as we took the train toward the inner district’s machinery sector. We could have just teleported there, but we weren’t in any hurry.
Besides... what’s the fun in teleporting everywhere and rushing a date?
"It’s been a while since I rode a train."
Evelina sat sipping tea, gazing out the window as more buildings slid by, along with a few billboards advertising so ridiculous beauty concoctions.
We’d reserved the VIP car at the very front of the train, closest to the conductor. It was expensive, but we had more than enough money for it to barely make a dent. Besides, we hadn’t chosen it just for the luxury.
Being as close to the conductor as possible ant that if anything went wrong, we could imdiately take control of the train. And if we couldn’t, well... the VIP cars had multiple exit routes we could use.
"It’s not like we’ve had much use for them."
"It’s a nice change of pace." Evelina set down her teacup. "So, what kind of unit did you have in mind? Sothing top of the line, or sothing more average?"
"A mix of both, preferably—top of the line for an elite unit and average models for the general force. Even if they’re not all elite, just knowing we have an elite unit should be enough to discourage dissent."
"Makes sense. Let’s just hope their prices are as good as back in Eryndor."
"I wouldn’t count on that," I chuckled. "I an, most stuff here has to be imported. It could be a lot more expensive."
"We’ll see."
*** Machinery Sector
The mont we stepped off the train, the air felt different.
It was louder here—way louder than I expected.
Not the chaotic noise of the outer district, but sothing more controlled and steady—chanical, almost rhythmic. The low hum of engines, the hiss of steam valves, the sharp clank of tal on tal. Even the ground under our feet felt different, solid and heavy, reinforced with tal plates instead of cobblestone.
Workshops lined the streets in every direction, their signs glowing faintly with enchanted lettering. So had rotating models of chanical limbs on display; others posted full humanoid constructs out front, standing there like silent salesn.
Compared to the rest of the city, this place actually felt... advanced.
And like it charged for every breath you took.
"Welco to the part of the city that basically prints money," I muttered.
Evelina took it all in with a single sweep of her gaze, already sizing everything up.
"Not quite," she said. "This is the part that sucks it dry."
Yeah, fair.
A group of workers pushed a half-assembled automaton past us, its exposed fra clicking with every step. Even unfinished, it gave off enough presence that people instinctively stepped out of its way.
"Not bad," I said. "If their regular models look like that, we might’ve picked the right place."
"Don’t get too excited yet," Evelina said. "Looks can lie."
We headed deeper into the district, earning the occasional glance. Not because we were so rare sight—well, maybe a little—but mostly because we looked way too clean for this part of town.
This wasn’t where nobles ca to stroll.
This was where the people who built things for nobles spent their lives.
"You two new here?"
A man in a sharp blue suit walked up to us, his hair and even his eyes the exact sa shade. There was sothing about him that tugged at my mory.
[Photographic mory]
Oh. Right.
Benedict Troy.
He wasn’t a character from the novel—just soone I’d seen and heard about all over town. His face popped up in newspapers, got dropped in passing conversations, that kind of thing.
Head of the Troy Conglorate. One of the partners behind the sa aircraft Evelina and I flew on—the one that got shot down.
That alone told he had money. A lot of it. And judging by the way Evelina’s expression shifted, she knew exactly who he was too.
"Lord Benedict, what brings you to this corner of the world?"
The man—Benedict—blinked, clearly thrown off by hearing his na. Then his eyes gave a tiny chanical click as they adjusted, the pupils narrowing and refocusing.
They were... chanical.
He seed to finally get a proper look at us—well, at Evelina, more than .
"L-Lady D’Arclight!"
Benedict snapped straight, then dropped to one knee in front of her. That was new. I definitely hadn’t seen or read about this anywhere.
"I ca here to move so of our production sowhere cheaper," he said quickly. "Now that my company’s helping supply the imperial family, I can’t keep working on your and your father’s projects without drawing attention."
So he was basically a pawn.
"Well, looks like we’re in luck, Cael," Evelina said. "We just found our provider."
"Cael!? You an that Cael!?"
Benedict’s gaze snapped to , though he stayed kneeling.
"I can’t believe it... Lady D’Arclight, your genius truly knows no bounds..."
Yeah. Creepy devotion. Good to know I’m not the only weirdo in her faction.
"To not only have , but to even have the son of a marquis and the new rumored prodigy by your side, you truly are—"
SNAP.
Evelina cut him off before he could finish. The mont he compared himself to , her expression twisted into pure contempt. The nerve he hit must’ve been deep.
Like... really deep.
She didn’t even hesitate. She just stepped forward and slapped him as hard as she could the instant the words left his mouth.
"Don’t compare yourself to him. A re pawn is nothing compared to the one beside ."
"O-Of course, Lady D’Arclight."
Benedict lowered his head. But... creepily, he didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. If anything, he enjoyed it.
He was smiling.
...I like him.
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