The Dark Side of Old Dunling

The black Steam Tram moved silently through the gray-mist-shrouded city. This was when the fog was thickest at night in Old Dunling, and visibility was no more than ten meters. The Ghost Tram had chosen this very hour to depart. It made no sound as it followed the tracks along the secluded roads, deftly avoiding every patrol of mounted police. Along the way, it stopped and started, picking up many mysterious passengers. They sat in lavish carriages, each seat isolated from the others by soundproof compartments.

Eve stared out the window. There was nothing but darkness. This was an iron box cut off from everything, and the enclosed space made her anxious.

"Where exactly are you taking me?"

Eve was starting to regret this. The detective before her wasn't trustworthy—at least, not entirely. She should have been more wary of him.

They were in a compartment inside the carriage. Lorenzo sat opposite Eve, looking entirely at ease as he spoke unhurriedly.

"To Sabo's ball."

As he spoke, Lorenzo took out a mask and handed it to Eve.

"Sabo mainly deals in smuggling. He has a group of Viking pirates he works with in the northern waters. They do the raiding and bring the goods to Raindona Port, then Sabo fences them."

"They're all goods that can't be sold in the open. Ordinary people can't afford them, but the upper-class nobles can. So he holds a ball regularly. It's called a ball, but it's really a marketplace—a deal where money changes hands for goods."

Listening to Lorenzo, Eve felt a little calmer.

"The threshold for attending this ball is high. I had to pull some strings just to get a ticket."

"That coin?"

Eve had been struck by that coin. In the heart of a country, she'd come across currency she'd never seen before. She couldn't help being wary.

"Right. They usually call it a Butcher Coin. It's minted by Shrike Bird, the master of the Lower District. It bears his image."

Lorenzo explained the complexities of the Lower District to Eve.

Wherever people gathered, rules and class divisions emerged—even in the chaotic, filthy Lower District.

"To rule a region, all you need to do is unify its currency. Everyone knows that coins and banknotes bearing a lion are accepted internationally. But in the Lower District, coins bearing Shrike Bird's image are the standard. Every Butcher Coin can be used to pay for things directly, and in the black market, you can exchange them for any currency."

"You can think of the entire Lower District as one giant casino, and the Butcher Coins in your hand are your chips."

As he spoke, Lorenzo took out a few more and handed them to Eve. They felt heavy in her hand. She couldn't tell what precious metal they were made from.

"Sabo is very cautious. His business is wildly profitable, and everyone wants to take his place. Normally, he stays holed up in a heavily guarded bunker, but he'll attend the ball this time. It's our only chance to approach him directly."

"He won't let anyone know where the ball is being held. Whenever there's a ball, a postman delivers letters to the nobles, telling them which station to go to. Then they set out at midnight."

As he spoke, Lorenzo put on his mask. It was made of brass, with a few gears set into the edges as decoration.

"So we don't know where we're going either?"

Eve put on her mask as well. Feathers lined its edge, making it look like some keen-eyed bird. She looked out the window. It was still pitch-black, with nothing to see.

"That's right."

Lorenzo nodded.

"Though Sabo is a Viking, he's never reckless. If anything, he's overly cautious."

In Eve's mind, Vikings were a bunch of brutes. They believed it was an honor to die on the battlefield, and that Valkyrie would carry their souls back to Valhalla, where they would join the gods and their ancestors in an endless feast. That faith had been strong in the benighted age several hundred years ago, when those fearless Vikings had once marched right up to the gates of Old Dunling.

But times had changed. Under the unrelenting barrage of artillery, all faith wavered. When war airships laden with ammunition swept across the kingdom's skies, everything from the old era was swept into the grave.

"How do you know all this?"

Eve asked suddenly. Her blue-green eyes stared at Lorenzo from behind her mask. Beneath that brass mask was a mysterious identity.

"You're a detective, yet you have Butcher Coins and know all these secrets. How did you manage that?"

Eve had reason to suspect Lorenzo might be a traitor. From the very beginning, he'd acted like a mob boss. He seemed more like some wanted ringleader than a detective.

She couldn't help but stay on her guard. Lorenzo had his weapon on him now, so she was at a complete disadvantage.

Lorenzo fell silent for a few seconds at Eve's question, then smiled frankly.

"What if I told you I've got a ridiculously powerful friend who told me all this? Would you believe me?"

No one would have guessed that the esteemed Shrike would become Lorenzo's backer. The gap between them was simply too vast: one was an emperor in the darkness, while the other was an unknown detective.

"Whether I answer or not, you're going to have doubts about me, aren't you? We're allies only because it benefits us. That's the strongest kind of alliance, and also the most fragile. When our interests diverge, we'll become enemies."

Lorenzo spoke calmly, with a rationality that seemed almost inhuman.

"Eve, the Lower District is a giant casino. You could even say that life itself is a gamble. Other than yourself and the cards in your hand, there's nothing you can control."

His gray-blue eyes fixed on her, his voice steady and strong.

"The first bet is whether I'm worth trusting. What do you say? If you think I'm trustworthy, we carry on. If you don't, there's still time to leave."

Lorenzo raised one finger and said,

Eve fell silent, torn.

She was the princess of the Phoenix family. As Lorenzo had said, she was highborn. If he had ulterior motives, she'd be a lamb on its way to the wolves. But if she failed to achieve anything, her father would surely find a way to transfer her out of Suaran Hall.

Safety on one side, her dream on the other. Eve made her choice without a moment's hesitation.

"If you dare lie to me, I swear I'll kill you."

The girl spoke fiercely, then leaned back in her seat and waited for them to reach the ball.

She really was a stubborn one. If not for her upbringing, Eve might have made a fine police detective.

Lorenzo said nothing more. So far, everything tonight had gone smoothly—almost too smoothly. Ever since the girl had accepted his invitation, he'd known she wouldn't let the matter rest. After all, she was a child of the Phoenix family.

Only a phoenix could rise from the ashes, not a barnyard chicken.

The carriage rocked gently. Faint conversation came from the compartments around them, then everything fell silent.

At last, a servant knocked on the door and informed them they had arrived.

According to Lorenzo's script, the two of them would be a couple tonight. Eve didn't understand why they couldn't be a lady and her male companion, but amid the strange atmosphere around them, she said nothing and let Lorenzo lead her away.

White steam rose slowly, warming the air.

The small platform was already crowded with people, most dressed in finery and wearing different masks. They were tonight's buyers at the ball. Since they were masked, no one could recognize anyone else. But even if they did, they would keep quiet. This ball was like a beautiful dream. Once they woke, nothing about it should be remembered.

The lights were dim. Eve could see only gray fog and darkness all around her. She knew she was in the Lower District, but not exactly where.

She looked up at the sky. The familiar shadow still moved among the clouds, which eased her mind a little.

"If you don't understand something, keep quiet. Tonight, we're a newly joined couple. Sabo will be wary of newcomers, so don't give us away."

Eve nodded without speaking. Just then, a servant came out, bowed, and led the guests toward the ball.

The road wound and twisted, lit only by dim lamps. There was nothing else along the way. Armed men followed at the rear of the procession to stop anyone from leaving.

As they walked, Eve suddenly caught a strange smell. Then more lights began to appear.

A red carpet had been laid out beneath their feet, but in the faint light, the area around them looked like a ruin. The scattered glimmers came from candles. Behind their feeble glow were rows of old, gaunt faces, like the dead drawn to light.

Lorenzo tightened his grip on her. Then Eve saw more. A rancid smell drifted through the darkness, as if something were slowly flowing nearby. Faint, whimpering cries reached them.

The tightly shut doors opened.

It was like the gates of heaven. Blinding light poured from the doors ahead. The scent of wine and the sound of singing filled the air. Coins clinked together with an intoxicating jingle. Lazy moans rose all around, along with an atmosphere of restless excitement. The guests gasped, then hurried toward that heavenly paradise, fervent as devout believers.

Mead and cheese, wealth and beauty—the forbidden pleasures that could satisfy anyone, if only they were willing to give themselves up for them.

"Lorenzo... what is this?"

Eve stood before the doors, stunned as if her very soul had been struck. Lorenzo, however, made no move to comfort her. Instead, he whispered in her ear,

"Welcome to the dark side of Old Dunling, Miss Eve Phoenix."