Lucky Southern Cross

This was Mr. Franklin's third visit to commission him. Just as before, the task was to forcibly remove Little Franklin, who was addicted to Rhodes Cards, from that illegally operating nighttime club.

Mr. Franklin had completely had enough. He planned to sell his property, quit his job, abandon the thirty years of hard work he and his wife had put into this northern capital, leave wealthy, prosperous Tobesk, and move his entire family to Artek City in the west of the kingdom, known as the "City of Art." Mr. Franklin's older brother had lived in that city for many years and could help the family find new work.

Of course, more importantly, it would keep Little Franklin away from those bad friends, away from Rhodes Cards and the gambling tables.

"After bringing him back this time, I'll lock him up at home. Once I've finished dealing with the move next month, I'll take him straight onto the Steam Train. So, Hamilton Detective, can you get my son out of that club?"

The client confirmed.

All Shade had to do was immediately head to the club and persuade Little Franklin to leave with him. The accountant offered 13 shillings and 3 pence, a little over half a pound. For an accountant with an annual income of around 70 pounds, that was roughly half a week's wages.

The fee included the club's admission charge and an extra allowance for traveling at night. Compared to the job of finding Little Mia, this commission was not even worth "half a cat," but after considering it, Shade was willing to accept it.

Not long ago, he had seen records concerning the Franklin family among the previous detective's commissions. They described how the detective had persuaded Little Franklin to leave with him.

"A simple job. Nothing can go wrong."

The orange cat stayed home. Worried that Little Mia might be scared, Shade painfully left the Gas Lamp on before heading out. Mr. Franklin went home to await news, while Shade chose to take a carriage because the destination was far away.

Tobesk City's hired carriage fares followed different rules depending on where passengers boarded and where they were going. Within the central area around Yodel Palace, trips under two miles within a four-mile radius cost 1 shilling, with an additional 5 pence for every mile thereafter. Long-distance travel outside the Central District was somewhat cheaper per mile.

Shade's destination this time was in what was commonly considered the Lower District, namely the North District. Including the extra tip for the Coachman due to nighttime travel, he paid a total of 3 shillings when he got down at a dim alley entrance.

Fortunately, the Franklin home was also in the North District, so there would be no need to take another carriage after finding Little Franklin.

At the same time, the expensive cost of hiring a carriage made Shade realize just how vast the gap between rich and poor was in this complicated, prosperous Steam Epoch. And how many challenges he, as someone at the bottom of society, would have to face.

The city night was quiet, but Shade, now a Ring Arcanist, sensed a terrifying feeling in the silent darkness, like staring into an abyss. Tobesk, the largest city in the north, hid no small number of secrets and unknowns within it, along with strange things lurking in alley shadows and apartment corners. Fortunately, Shade encountered none of them tonight.

This world is more dangerous than I imagined.

The club called Lucky Southern Cross had its main entrance on Glass Mountain Avenue. But anyone wishing to enter its casino had to use the back entrance in the alley.

Following the records left behind by the previous detective, Shade entered the alley and circled through the darkness for half a lap before spotting the rusty silver-gray iron door. A Wild Cat suddenly leaped down from the wall during the trip, startling the detective and making him curse his own "timidity."

After carefully knocking on the iron door three times in succession, he waited a full half minute before a tall, bearded man in a black overcoat and leather boots warily opened it from within.

"This isn't a place for young people."

The man glanced at the young detective and reached out to shove him, only to find that he could not move him. Even as a First Ring Arcanist, Shade's physical abilities had been greatly enhanced.

"Are the rules here always this barbaric?"

Shade displayed a Rhodes Card, the Silver Moon 13. It was one from the deck he had picked up on the roof of the pet boarding center that morning. Then he said:

"I'm here to see Mr. Rod, over a matter on the table."

He then produced three one-pence coins as the entrance fee.

"I thought you were... here for the first time?"

The bearded man glanced at the card and confirmed that the password was correct.

"Someone I know referred me."

Shade answered in a low voice. The bearded man studied him again before stepping aside and allowing Shade into the club's back corridor, lit by dim yellow Gas Lamps.

The detective immediately raised his trench coat collar to cover half his face. After cautiously checking both sides of the alley, he entered.

"It may be an illegal casino, but there's no need to act like that."

The bearded man muttered behind Shade.

The corridor was quite dark, and the air was filled with the nauseating mixed smell of sweat, alcohol, and tobacco. Less than ten steps in, doors appeared on both sides of the corridor. All of them stood slightly ajar, allowing harsh light from the rooms to spill into the hall. Chaotic shouting and the sound of hands slapping tabletops could be heard within.

Shade did not enter any of the rooms. He continued forward cautiously and secretly used Blood Echo to inspect his surroundings. He found no obvious bloodstains, which meant that at least no more serious illegal activities were taking place here.

"Not a combat spell, but it's strangely useful."

The corridor led to the club's eastern hall, where the lighting was much brighter. Dozens of broad four-legged wooden tables covered with cloth were arranged throughout the hall. Well-dressed gentlemen, drunks fresh from taverns, workers off duty for the evening, and all kinds of people crowded around them, waving banknotes in their hands and eagerly watching the gambling games on the still somewhat dim tabletops.

Lucky Southern Cross Club had three floors, and only guests of sufficient status could enter the upstairs casino. Little Franklin clearly could only hang around on the 1st Floor. Last time, Sparrow Hamilton Detective had found the young man drunk out of his mind and lying in a corner of the eastern hall.

There were simply too many people. Shade had only heard Mr. Franklin describe Little Franklin's clothes and appearance, so he did not find the young man immediately.

Holding a 1-shilling banknote, he quickly blended into the crowded hall. He stopped by different tables, constantly observing whether the person he sought was present, but he would never throw his money onto a gambling table. The carriage fare had already pained him enough, and Mr. Franklin would not reimburse unnecessary expenses incurred during the investigation.

Within half an hour, he had more or less examined the entire eastern hall, yet he still had not found his target. Instead, while pretending to study the betting at a table, he overheard gamblers chatting about something interesting that had happened here an hour earlier.

A young man with small eyes and a freckled face, wearing a gray hat and a sailor's shirt, had been taken to the 2nd Floor to be forced to "repay his debts" after owing too much money at the gambling tables.

Shade did not know what "repaying debts" meant, but he doubted it was anything good. He knew he had found Little Franklin's trail, and that the young man was in a very bad situation.

Entering the club's 2nd Floor required showing at least 10 pounds in cash and having someone familiar introduce you. Shade had neither money nor acquaintances, but he had to go upstairs. It was not time to give up yet; after all, this was his First Time handling an official commission.

After waiting for a while, a group of dozens of drunkards soon staggered out of a room on one side of the corridor and headed together toward the 2nd Floor.

What an opportunity!

Shade sidestepped with several people near the stairwell, but when the drunkards passed, he immediately supported one of those toward the back. Enduring the smell of alcohol on him, Shade helped the man along and blended into the crowd. The detective finally reached the 2nd Floor.

"Making money really is never easy."

Compared to the noisy environment on the 1st Floor, the 2nd Floor was noticeably quieter and decorated with greater elegance. Even at night, this place was still a drinking club rather than a casino.

PS: Speaking of which, three of the five Ring Arcanists in the group have now had their professions revealed: Detective (Shade), psychologist (Bill Schneider), and writer and part-time journalist (Dorothy Louisa). You can try guessing the professions of the remaining two. Here's a hint: they are both professions that can easily cause trouble, so the following story will be more interesting. (Laugh)