Two days later, George boarded the steam train bound for Backlund alongside his parents.
Jack and Chris Barton wore the unmistakable expressions of people standing at the threshold of a new life.
And they had every reason to.
The previous day, a formal letter had arrived from Backlund’s municipal office confirming Jack’s transfer, detailing his new role, responsibilities, and salary.
On paper, it was supposed to be a lateral move.
In reality, it wasn’t.
Backlund’s administration had cited Jack’s strong performance record and quietly promoted him by one grade. Overnight, he went from a low-ranking civil clerk to a mid-level official with real authority.
Less fieldwork.
More office ti.
Several tis the pay.
For soone who had spent most of his life in a small city, it was a staggering leap.
On top of that, both of their old houses had sold above expected value.
They now had enough capital to buy property in the capital.
From obscure town life to owning a ho in Backlund.
Hope barely covered it.
The train thundered through the countryside from dawn until dusk.
When they finally arrived, the sheer scale of Backlund made Tingen feel like a provincial village by comparison.
Millions of residents.
Endless rows of buildings.
Factories belching pale yellow haze into the sky.
The air was thick.
Visibility poor.
But the city radiated power, wealth, and ambition.
Chris held George close as they moved through the crowd.
George casually snapped his fingers inside his blanket.
A man who had been reaching for Jack’s pocket suddenly yelped as smoke erupted from his trousers.
No one noticed the source.
They reached the station exit.
"Jack! Over here!"
A well-dressed elderly man with neatly combed hair waved enthusiastically.
"Uncle Hyde," Jack said, stepping forward. "Thank you for coming personally."
Hyde laughed and hugged him.
"Your father was my closest friend. You used to sit on my shoulders as a boy. Don’t stand on ceremony with ."
Hyde was a senior steward for an earl’s household and a forr colleague of Jack’s late father.
Thanks to his connections, he had already arranged temporary lodging for the Barton family.
A carriage waited outside.
They rode through wide boulevards and into a quieter residential district.
The rented house was modest but comfortable.
A stepping stone.
Over the following days, Hyde helped them begin searching for a permanent residence, as well as interviewing potential household staff.
With Jack’s current inco, even after buying a ho, hiring a small staff would not be a burden.
Five days later, Wednesday arrived.
Under Hyde’s guidance, the Bartons secured a two-story villa on Pessfield Street in the North District.
It had over a dozen rooms, a stable, servant quarters, and a small garden.
Old furniture.
Solid structure.
The listed price had been thirty thousand pounds.
Well beyond their budget.
They were preparing to walk away when the owner suddenly dropped the price to ten thousand, claiming urgent need to sell.
Jack and Chris thought they’d witnessed a miracle.
George knew better.
The villa sat less than a hundred ters from Saint Samuel Cathedral.
Soone had nudged the scales.
A gesture of goodwill.
And a reminder that eyes were nearby.
Life in Backlund settled into a rhythm.
Each morning, a carriage took Jack to the municipal building.
Because his promotion had been authorized directly from above, his colleagues treated him with cautious respect.
His work progressed smoothly.
Chris spent her days exploring the neighborhood with George, building social ties and preparing for their first proper social gathering as a capital family.
George continued his private research.
He also discreetly assisted both the Church of the Night and the Church of Storms in stabilizing several low-ranking corrupted individuals.
Wednesday afternoon, three o’clock.
The Tarot gathering convened.
Justice successfully obtained the formula she needed from Sun.
Hanged Man provided updated intelligence on the pirate Zellingus.
Zellingus had entered Backlund under orders.
He would lie low, then engineer a massacre designed to shake the city.
In return, he would receive an item capable of propelling him into a far higher tier of power.
After discussion, it was decided:
Justice would track Zellingus’ movents.
Once his location was confird, George would handle the execution.
After the eting, George reviewed the newly acquired pages of Emperor Roselle’s diary.
Several entries contained information of genuine value.
Another small step forward.
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