Lucky Coin

Eve looked at the coin before her. She had never seen such currency before and did not know if it belonged to a specific nation or was merely a commemorative piece. Her expression was somewhat flustered, but she quickly calmed down, her eyes sharp as sword blades.

The blood of the Phoenix family flowed through her veins, serving as a pillar for her spirit. Eve knew clearly that she could not show fear; she was destined to appear in that Hall of Honor. As the Duchess of the Phoenix, this was not yet the end.

"Is this alright?"

Eve picked up the coin and asked Lorenzo. This was a gamble between him and Sabo, and her current role was akin to that of a dealer.

Lorenzo nodded, then spoke to Sabo.

"No psychological warfare, no cheating, no tricks that could overstep the bounds. This is pure luck. I like it."

"That is excellent."

Sabo also nodded, clearly pleased that Lorenzo had agreed to such an absurd wager.

"One side is a shield, the other is a battle-axe."

"I choose the shield," Lorenzo said directly, not looking at Eve as he kept his gaze fixed on Sabo.

"This coin must be quite old. I recall this currency has already been abandoned."

"Indeed. It was issued by the Viking Kingdom of Nobido over a decade ago. You know how the Vikings rose to power through piracy; they had all sorts of currency. This was the first to unify the internal Viking economy, but it is rarely seen on the market now. Most are in the hands of collectors."

Sabo spoke with a hint of nostalgia. As he spoke, Eve tossed the coin into the air. It danced and ascended, shimmering like a silver sprite under the lights.

"It must hold some significance for you, doesn't it? Missing your homeland? You don't look like a collector, so you wouldn't have kept it for this long, right?"

This was the very definition of being moved by an object, much like how soldiers retired from the battlefield would periodically gaze at their medals of honor.

"I don't miss that frozen wasteland at all. Being born in that hellhole was a mistake. I kept it only because it was the first thing I ever won at a gambling table. I lost my first finger for it; it is my lucky coin."

Sabo rubbed his left hand as he spoke. Where his little finger should have been, there was only an empty space and a scar left behind by an improperly treated wound.

"I had four fingers back then. I beat that bastard, but he was a coward, so I killed him. I believe that was the first time I ever killed anyone. The feeling of holding one's fate in one's own hands is truly wonderful."

His words carried a sense of excitement; this deformed man's history was far more legendary than one might imagine.

The coin fell, and the girl quickly caught it with her hand before pressing it down onto the table. This should have been a game for children, yet it felt incredibly heavy now.

"Reveal it."

Hearing Lorenzo's words, Eve slowly lifted her hand. A battle-axe lay on the surface. Lorenzo had lost.

"Who exactly are you?"

Sabo rubbed his scar, his gaze filled with yearning, as if this were truly what he wanted to know.

"Lorenzo Holmes, a detective."

Lorenzo answered directly, but Sabo shook his head vigorously, clearly unsatisfied with the response.

"What I want to know is your identity before you came to Old Dunling. Who are you, really?"

Like Shrike, he was filled with curiosity about the mysterious detective's past.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Lorenzo said, "A priest."

Even Eve, standing to the side, was bewildered. It was likely that no one could ever associate this insane bastard with a noble priest.

"A priest? A priest of the Gospel Church?"

The priesthood was not a rare profession. A hundred years ago, the masters of the world were the Holy Gospel Papal State. They relied on their doctrines to dispatch countless priests to various nations, secretly controlling them in the name of faith. However, with the rise of steam technology, so-called faith plummeted to the bottom; muskets and airships freed everyone from the shackles of belief.

Sabo laughed as he spoke, not pressing the matter further, and continued, "This time, I bet on the battle-axe."

Eve tossed the coin. It rose into the air and fell. Neither of them looked at the spinning coin; they stared fixedly at each other, their tones peaceful, yet the tension between them remained as taut as a drawn bowstring. Once again, the battle-axe faced up. Sabo had won again.

"Why did you come to Old Dunling?"

"Because this is Old Dunling. The city with the world's most advanced technology, the City of Hope, the City of Steam. The roaring, churning machines have cast the old era aside forever."

"People in Florence all say this is a good place. Compared to ethereal faith, gold is hidden everywhere here; opportunity and wealth are everywhere. It is open to everyone, and as long as you come here, you will have a new life."

Lorenzo spoke indifferently, as calm as if he were telling a story that had nothing to do with him.

"True enough. The Church's power is waning. To consolidate their rule, those kings relied on muskets to destroy one church after another. It is not a hundred years ago anymore, when you priests could live comfortably for a lifetime just by relying on donations."

Sabo found it somewhat laughable, as if Lorenzo were merely a gold-digger who had come for the name of Old Dunling.

"I truly never expected that an executioner like you was once a priest. Are you not afraid of divine retribution?"

Countless people had died in the Red River Massacre, and the cruelty of the methods was enough to chill even a butcher's heart—and all of this had come from the hands of the detective who was once a priest.

"If divine retribution truly existed, I fear this place would have already been reduced to a sea of fire by thunderbolts."

The band had long since stopped playing. They, too, had inhaled the hallucinogens, their faces twisted as they clung to one another in a bizarre dance. The same was true on the dance floor; people were tearing at their clothes and skin, dozens of bloody wounds appearing on their fair bodies. Like beasts, they let out meaningless roars and low moans. Human civilization had been thoroughly abandoned.

"Perhaps the gods are simply waiting to settle the score after we die? You go first this time."

"Still the shield."

"Why choose the shield again? You have already lost twice." Sabo was puzzled.

"You've won twice, so your luck is running lower than mine. The Goddess of Luck doesn't play favorites; now, she'll let me win it back." He was full of confidence.

Eve revealed her hand, and it seemed that just as Lorenzo had said, this time it was the shield—he had won.

"What exactly is that cargo?"

This was what Lorenzo needed to know most at this moment. That mysterious cargo was the reason for everything that had happened tonight.

"The Sacred Coffin. It's said that those people dug it out of a shipwreck in the Ice Sea. Many have already died for the sake of this thing."

"The Sacred Coffin? What kind of thing is that?"

Lorenzo had never heard of such a thing; even in theology, there was no such term.

"I don't know either."

Sabo said candidly, "It's like a pronoun, much like the deities in the Gospel Church. Do you truly know what they are? Are they people, objects, or something else entirely? Like the Holy Grail in doctrine, it is merely a pronoun, representing something that cannot be spoken of."

"Humanity cannot describe such things, so they have no choice but to honor them with sacred and noble names."

As if something had been triggered, Lorenzo sensed a trace of strangeness.

The coin was tossed into the air once more, spinning before it fell.

"Shield or axe."

This time it was Eve who asked, as neither of them had spoken first.

"Shield."

Sabo said suddenly; this time, he chose Lorenzo's shield.

The coin was revealed, and just as Lorenzo had said, the Goddess of Luck did not favor anyone—it was the axe, and Lorenzo had won again.

However, this time Lorenzo did not rush to ask a question; instead, he picked up his pocket watch to check the time.

"Do you have somewhere to be?"

It was the middle of the night. Even if there were matters to attend to, they would wait until dawn, and there was still a long time before daybreak. Sabo was somewhat curious about what Lorenzo was waiting for.

"Indeed, so this will be my final question."

"Leaving right after winning isn't a very good habit." Sabo's gaze turned cold. This was the greatest taboo at a gambling table—winning and running. While gamblers weren't exactly good people, this was considered the behavior of a petty scoundrel among them.

"Please understand, it's a matter of necessity."

As Lorenzo spoke, he stood up and walked to the edge of the high platform. The vantage point was excellent, taking everything in at a glance. The initial opulence was gone; below in the hall lay wretched bodies. The hallucinogens had completely paralyzed their nerves, and now they didn't even have the strength to stand, lying on the carpet with eyes full of chaos.

The high-and-mighty nobles were like lowly beggars, stripped of their glory and dignity, like pathetic livestock in a pen.

"How do you usually handle these people?"

"Does this count as a question for the bet?"

"Of course not, I'm just curious... You'll satisfy this bit of curiosity for me, won't you?"

As he spoke, Lorenzo flashed a friendly smile at Sabo, as if he were truly just curious.

"It's simple. They go back to where they came from. We send our guests to luxury hotels in the Inner District. They wake up in soft, clean beds after shedding their fatigue, with the beautiful world of Old Dunling right outside, and everything from last night seems like nothing more than a dream."

"A beautiful ending, isn't it?"

"Sounds pretty good."

Lorenzo nodded in approval, then asked his final question.

"What about those people? The crew of the Silver Fish—they were the ones who transported the Sacred Coffin, and there were also the people who blocked me that day. Where are they all?"

This was Lorenzo's last question. He hoped to get an answer, and just like before, Sabo didn't hide a thing, being so candid that Lorenzo almost thought he was one of his own.

"They're all dead, or if they aren't, they might as well be."

Sabo said bluntly.

"All dead?"

Lorenzo found it hard to believe, and then, as if realizing something, his pupils constricted. He asked:

"Did you kill them?"