Radiance

Although night had fallen, the place remained incredibly bright. Hundreds of electric lights flickered beneath the dome of steel and concrete like shimmering stars, while transparent glass walls several meters high perfectly partitioned this vast, empty space.

This was a miracle of human industry, an industrial creation known as the Central Station of Old Dunling. It served as the transportation heart of Old Dunling, with hundreds of railways extending outward from this core to every corner of the territory. Massive amounts of steam surged from within, eventually condensing on the surrounding steel, leaving the air damp and cold.

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the platform, still wearing his standard attire: a black deerstalker hat and a pitch-black overcoat, with a white shirt underneath and the iron chain of a pocket watch peeking from his pocket.

He looked like an ordinary traveler, as if he were on his way to meet a friend. He cradled a brown box in his arms, one corner slightly ajar to reveal vibrant flowers inside.

Sitting on a bench nearby, Lorenzo lowered his head to check the time on his pocket watch, standing out among the crowd like a statue.

He remained this way for a long time, until the melodious sound of a steam whistle echoed through the air.

The steel creation exhaled endless steam as it slowly approached, dragging over twenty carriages behind it. Cold dew condensed on its metal frame, making it look like a giant python gliding across the earth.

A bronze lion statue stood atop the heavy locomotive, and white lettering was painted on the rusted body—the name of the train.

The Radiance was a steam train built decades ago to commemorate the victory of the Glorious War. As time passed, most of them had been retired, and Lorenzo had not expected to see one today.

It was also part of the Midgard Serpent system, connecting the entire world. For just a few silver coins, one could travel anywhere in the world at will; such was the power of technology.

Distance was no longer a reason to limit one's progress. Even for the mysterious town of Ende, which Lorenzo intended to visit, there was a train tonight, and he had caught it just in time.

"Does sir need..."

"No need."

The conductor, seeing Lorenzo approach, tried to help with his luggage, but Lorenzo refused before the man could even touch it.

Lorenzo's icy demeanor left the conductor at a loss, but he saw countless passengers every day, so he didn't take this small episode to heart.

Walking into the carriage, Lorenzo headed straight for his seat. He stopped at a window seat and placed his suitcase by his feet. Although his movements were gentle, anyone could feel the weight of the case when it landed. It was filled with monster-hunting weapons.

Though Lorenzo never mentioned it directly, he was actually a retired monster hunter. Just as he had told Sabo back then, becoming a priest was a prerequisite for becoming a Temple Knight, and the elite among the Temple Knights would go on to become monster hunters.

Even though the monsters were supposed to be extinct and he had enjoyed six years of retirement, these creatures had returned. This was Lorenzo's bottom line; regardless of any conflicts of interest, he had to find out why these damned things had reappeared.

The final destination of this train was a city in the west. Because large quantities of minerals had been discovered there, the area had been under development in recent years, though the scale was small and had not yet attracted much attention.

That was not Lorenzo's target. According to information he gathered from the station map, the mysterious town of Ende was also connected by rail. Construction had been completed about three months ago, but the line was not open to the public; he would have to disembark as he neared the town and continue on foot.

However... a nearly forgotten small town with a direct railway? How could it possibly deserve such a thing!

Lorenzo caught the scent of a conspiracy in an instant, and the truth was just as he had suspected: about a year ago, an anonymous philanthropist had donated funds to build this railway. The purpose was unclear, but given what Lorenzo was experiencing now, everything was crystal clear.

This was all premeditated.

It was an escape route built specifically for the flight of the Sacred Coffin. Presumably, the "food" Sabo had mentioned was also transported there via this railway.

"What a nuisance..."

Lorenzo felt a headache coming on. Going to such great lengths meant it couldn't just be for a single delivery of food, and no one knew what that "food" actually was.

Judging by the transport capacity and the timeline of the railway, the amount of material being moved there was likely far greater than he had estimated.

For a moment, the atmosphere felt somewhat tragic, as if he were heading into the underworld all by himself.

But Lorenzo didn't care about that. This was his bottom line, and he had to go see for himself, no matter what.

Just as he was thinking this, another person appeared before him. The man sat opposite Lorenzo with a smile on his face.

"Good evening, sir. Are you on your way to see a friend?"

The man was about the same age as Lorenzo, perhaps twenty-four or twenty-five. He wore ordinary clothes, had an ordinary appearance, and his temperament was as ordinary as could be. Everything about him was so plain, yet when gathered together, it felt incredibly abrupt.

He was too ordinary—so ordinary that it was eye-catching.

"Yes, it's been a long time since I last visited him."

Lorenzo answered casually, his gaze falling on the box, which was filled with flowers. Their intoxicating fragrance was soothing.

It was a classic gift box from a street florist; when someone really couldn't think of what to give, buying a flower box was never a wrong choice.

"Long-lasting friendship, that's quite nice."

"Indeed, it feels quite nice. What about you? The west is very underdeveloped; apart from tourism, not many people want to go there."

Faced with Lorenzo's question, the man thought for a moment, a look of slight distress appearing on his face before he sighed.

"I don't want to go either, but work requires it."

"Work requires it? Let me guess..."

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes, observing the man carefully and analyzing his identity with his limited detective skills.

If it were work, the only jobs in the west worth mentioning were mining. But the man was neat, his fingers were clean, and there was no trace of him having worked in a coal mine. Although his overall temperament was mediocre, there was a faint, strange odor—it smelled like machine oil.

"A mechanic? Aside from mining, the west only has those mechanics. I suppose some machine broke down and you were sent to fix it."

It was a bullseye. The man perked up, looking at Lorenzo with a hint of curiosity. He had intended to use this small talk to pass the long journey, but he hadn't expected to meet someone so interesting.

"How did you guess?"

"Because my roommate is a mechanic. He has that same smell of machine oil on him, his hands are covered in calluses, and he's always on call. The factory machines break down often, and when they're short-handed, he's just like you—he has to rush back to fix them no matter where he is."

Honestly, with the man's haggard look and dark circles under his eyes, he was practically a carbon copy of Lorenzo's roommate. Seeing him like this, he felt a sense of familiarity.

"I haven't seen him for nearly half a month; I'm afraid he might have drowned in the factory."

"It's really... I don't know what to say..."

The man gave a dry laugh and scratched his head; he was just as miserable about this godforsaken job as anyone else.

"So, what kind of work do you do?" The man was filled with curiosity toward Lorenzo.

"Hmm..."

Lorenzo fell into deep thought before he spoke.

"A detective. A second-rate detective."

As for the specific nature of his business, Lorenzo had no intention of elaborating. After all, whether it was catching cheating spouses or serving Shrike, none of it was meant for the light of day—and as for the deeper matters of battling demons, those were even less fit to be spoken of.

"A detective?"

The word seemed to strike a nerve in the man. This time, he truly looked at Lorenzo properly, his gaze sweeping back and forth as the hidden features he had been concealing gradually overlapped with someone from his memory.

"May I ask what to call you?"

As if to make a final confirmation, the man extended his hand, feigning the gesture of making a new friend.

Lorenzo reached out naturally to shake it, a bright, hearty smile pulling at his face.

"Lorenzo Holmes."

Hearing the detective's name, the man froze, though he hid his emotions well. He maintained his smile, appearing no different than usual.

"Moon Naredo."

Looking at the detective whom both Arthur and Shrike hated enough to want to tear limb from limb, Kestrel spoke his own name.