The further Cyril went, the quieter his surroundings beca.
The city was a densely populated place. No matter where you go, sounds of life will always follow. But here, silence stopped being a rare thing. The buildings gradually beca shorter, although less well-kept as well.
There were fewer people on the streets, and they were more reserved as well.
Eventually the apartnt buildings stopped showing up, replaced by small grey boxes that surely couldn't keep that many people.
It was sowhat different from the ant-hill-like districts Cyril had been in before. His surroundings were run-down, yet strangely serene at the sa ti. It evoked in him a peculiar feeling.
"What a shithole."
Rhamn winced as they walked past an overflowing trashcan. Her red eyes gained more disgust with each new house they saw.
"I am so tired of being in the slums. Why are we always here lately? Can't our target be in the city center, in so luxurious club maybe?"
Stop whining. This is nothing.
Cyril slowly explored the new area, following the route he morized ahead of ti. Sotis he would ask Morpho if they were still following Alvin and would get a positive answer every ti.
The red butterfly on his shoulder refused to fly, apprehensive about their environnt. Tigris lowered his head each ti a disheveled stranger walked past. At least Atheris didn't seem too bothered, happily coiled around his neck.
Finally, after walking for close to an hour, Cyril reached his destination.
An opening appeared in front of him, surrounded by small grey boxes. At its center stood a bigger grey box with a courtyard adjacent to it.
The courtyard was surrounded by a short wall, and he could easily see inside of it. It was a playground.
However, it was completely empty. No kids were present in the sandpit, and no one rode the seesaw or sat in the swings.
The main building's grey walls were drawn over with different colors, depicting abstract shapes that might be animals in theory.
The building was old and just as run-down as the ones around it. Its windows were broken, and the wooden door was in a poor state.
Cyril focused on his hearing as best he could, but he heard no sounds coming from the inside. It was strangely quiet.
"Suspicious! Kids are chaotic creatures. There is no way they would be this quiet!"
Right. Is Alvin inside?
Morpho briefly fluttered her wings.
"He is…"
Cyril tried to look through the broken windows of the building, yet he saw no one.
He didn't hurry inside. Instead, he walked around the building, trying to stay out of sight of anyone on the street.
He contemplated a way to get inside.
"Through the door? You can jump over the wall if you find that more fun."
I think I'll use the door.
Suddenly, as Cyril was walking around, soone ca out from one of the buildings surrounding the orphanage.
A hunched middle-aged man with a disheveled appearance slowly waddled over to Cyril, clearly heading for him specifically.
"...?"
Cyril focused on the man's face, confusion in his gaze.
"I know that face! He was one of the servants in your family's ho in the city center. I heard his na is Alan."
He must be one of the people Ophelia placed here.
Enlightened, Cyril took a few steps, eting the servant undercover.
"Alan," he whispered before the man could open his mouth, "how is the situation?"
Hearing his na, the servant froze, his eyes widening. He clearly didn't expect Cyril to know his na.
He quickly looked around them, finding no one around to listen in, and composed himself.
"Young Master, your eyesight is impressive. You saw through my disguise at a glance," Alan whispered with genuine awe.
The look in his eyes beca sowhat warr than before, but perhaps Cyril was seeing things.
"...So did anything happen during this ti?"
"My apologies! I will report now!"
...
They entered a nearby alley, where the servant stood upright, fully invoking proper etiquette.
Alan professionally listed all he managed to discover during this ti of observation.
Which was nothing.
"I am sorry, Young Master. We can't yet figure out if there's anything wrong with this place. It's clean in all the papers we found thus far."
"I see."
"The only thing to note is that the orphanage suddenly beca silent after a male child ran out from the inside holding flowers."
Flowers? Doesn't tell anything.
"Did the church arrive already?"
"Not yet, Young Master."
Cyril crossed his arms in contemplation, staring from the alley they were in in the direction of the orphanage.
At this mont a kid ran towards the doors of the orphanage, casually entering with no concern for the shoddy state of the wooden door.
"That's the sa child from before, Young Master." Alan pointed towards the child, who no longer held any flowers.
"I see."
Still doesn't tell anything.
…I have to investigate myself.
Having made up his mind, Cyril nodded.
"Stay here. I'll go inside," he said to the servant.
"…Are you sure, Young Master? If that place is suspicious and sothing happens-"
"I told you to stay. Don't worry about ," Cyril flatly replied, already walking out of the alley.
Alan opened his mouth but then closed it. A bead of sweat rolled down his forehead.
"As you wish, Young Master," he finally uttered, bowing at Cyril's back.
"Feels nice when you have servants."
Don't get distracted.
Cyril walked towards the entrance, not caring to hide anymore.
Maybe Morpho can discover sothing inside. A room hidden behind a spell, perhaps?
The butterfly on his shoulder eagerly twitched her antennae.
Without any worry, as casually as opening a door to his dorm, Cyril pulled the orphanage's shoddy door open and entered.
Inside was a small waiting area, similar to a lobby.
Only one person sat on the bench, wistfully staring into the ceiling. It was a boy of about twelve years old, judging by his looks.
The mont the boy noticed him, he widened his eyes, sitting up straight.
"Eh?! Who are you, mister?" the boy exclaid, scanning Cyril's blond hair and clearly expensive uniform.
The kid's gaze quickly beca wary.
Before answering, Cyril contemplated. It would be beneficial to get so information about this place. What better source than one of the kids here?
For that, I need to lower his vigilance.
"...I am a trainee knight. I received reports about this place, so now I am here to see if there's anything wrong," Cyril said without even blinking.
Technically a student from a magical academy could be considered a trainee knight, and he did receive reports about this place, just from a personal maid.
He didn't lie, and it's not his problem if an impressionable kid misunderstood him to be soone he wasn't. This should make it easier to gather information.
People would not lie to a representative of the law, right?
"Wrong? There is nothing wrong with this place..."
Contrary to Cyril's expectations, the kid imdiately beca more wary.
He no longer fidgeted in his seat, his legs tightening as if ready to run at any second. His eyes no longer were casually wandering about Cyril's face but instead were fixedly staring slightly to the side.
Within them even a bit of fear shone through.
"...?"
The kid's eyes now practically exuded, 'I don't talk to strangers, and especially not guards!'
Why is he like this?
Cyril blankly stared at the kid's tense face, feeling helpless.
Shouldn't kids feel excited when near a guard? Shouldn't they stare at one with awe? Don't all kids want to grow up to be a knight?
"Unless they have sothing to hide!"
Rhamn pointed at the tense kid, on her face a victorious smugness as if a detective discovering a clue.
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