The Radiance

Although night had fallen, the place was still dazzlingly bright. Hundreds upon thousands of electric lights glittered beneath the dome of steel and concrete like a field of stars, while glass walls several meters long divided the vast space with breathtaking precision.

It was a marvel of human industry, an industrial wonder known as Old Dunling Central Station. The heart of the city's transportation network, it sent hundreds of railway lines radiating outward to every corner of Old Dunling. Huge clouds of steam billowed from within, then condensed on the surrounding steel, leaving the air damp and cold.

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the platform, still dressed in his usual attire: a black deerstalker and a dark overcoat, with a white lining beneath. The chain of his pocket watch peeked from his pocket.

He looked like an utterly ordinary traveler, as if he were on his way to meet a friend. He even held a brown box in his arms, one corner slightly open to reveal a cluster of brightly colored flowers.

Sitting on a bench nearby, Lorenzo lowered his head and checked the time on his pocket watch. He stood amid the crowd like a statue.

He remained that way for a long time, until a melodious whistle sounded.

The steel behemoth came slowly toward them, exhaling endless clouds of steam. It dragged more than twenty carriages behind it, cold droplets of condensation clinging to its steel body like a giant serpent slithering across the earth.

A bronze lion stood atop the heavy engine. White lettering had been painted on its rusted side—the train's name.

The Radiance was a steam locomotive built decades ago to commemorate the victory in the Glorious War. Most of its kind had been retired over the years, and Lorenzo hadn't expected to see one still running today.

It was also part of the Midgard Serpent system, connecting the whole world. For just a few silver coins, you could reach almost anywhere on the globe. That was the power of technology.

Distance was no longer a reason to hold anyone back. There was even a train running tonight to the mysterious town of Ende, and Lorenzo had arrived just in time to catch it.

"Sir, would you like—"

"No need."

The porter saw Lorenzo approaching and tried to take his luggage, but Lorenzo refused before he could even touch it.

Lorenzo's icy demeanor left the porter at a loss, but he dealt with countless passengers every day. The brief exchange barely registered.

Lorenzo boarded and headed straight for his seat, stopping at a window. He set his suitcase by his feet. He moved carefully, but anyone could tell how heavy it was when it hit the floor. It was packed with weapons for hunting Fiends.

Lorenzo had never said so outright, but in truth, he was a retired Fiend hunter. Just as he'd told Sabo, becoming a priest was a prerequisite for becoming a Temple Knight, and the elite among the Temple Knights went on to become Fiend hunters.

The Fiends had all been wiped out, and Lorenzo had enjoyed six years of retirement. But now those bastards were back, and that crossed his line. Whatever the interests at stake, he had to find out why the damned things had returned.

The train's final stop was a city in the west. Large deposits of minerals had been discovered there, and development had begun in recent years, though it was still limited and had attracted little attention.

That wasn't Lorenzo's destination. According to the information he'd found on the station map, the mysterious town of Ende was also connected by rail. The line had been completed about three months ago, but it wasn't open to the public. He would have to get off near the town and walk the rest of the way.

But... a small town that had nearly been forgotten had a direct railway line? What had it done to deserve that?

Lorenzo immediately caught the scent of a conspiracy. The truth was just as he'd suspected: about a year ago, an anonymous benefactor had donated money to build the line. The reason was unknown, but after everything Lorenzo had experienced, the picture was now crystal clear.

It had all been planned in advance.

This railway was an escape route built specifically for the Sacred Coffin. Sabo's food supplies had probably been transported there along the same line.

"What a pain..."

Lorenzo's head throbbed. No one would go to so much trouble just to transport food once, and no one knew what those "supplies" really were.

Judging by the railway's capacity and the time it had been in operation, they'd transported far more than he'd estimated.

For a moment, the mood turned grim. He felt like he was marching to his death, all alone.

But Lorenzo didn't care. This crossed his line. He had to see for himself, no matter what.

As he was thinking this, someone appeared in front of him and sat across from him with a smile.

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

The man was about Lorenzo's age, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. His clothes were ordinary, his features unremarkable, and his manner no less so. Everything about him was plain, yet somehow that made him stand out.

He was too ordinary. Painfully ordinary.

"Yeah. It's been a long time since I last went to see him."

Lorenzo answered casually, but his gaze fell on the box. It was full of flowers, their intoxicating fragrance soothing.

The classic gift box from a street-corner flower shop. When you couldn't think of what to give someone, you could never go wrong with one of these.

"May your friendship last. That's nice."

"Yeah, it feels nice. What about you? The west is pretty backward. Aside from tourists, most people don't want to go there."

The man considered Lorenzo's question. A trace of worry crossed his face, and he sighed.

"I don't want to go either, but work's sending me."

"Work's sending you? Let me guess..."

Lorenzo narrowed his eyes and studied the man, using what little detective's skill he had to figure out who he was.

If it was work, then the only job in the west that came to mind was mining. But the man was neat, and his fingers were clean, without a trace of coal-mine work. Though his manner was utterly unremarkable, there was a faint, odd smell about him. It smelled like machine oil.

"Mechanic? Apart from mining, that's about the only work out west. I'm guessing some machine broke down and they sent you to fix it."

He'd hit the nail on the head. The man perked up at once and looked at Lorenzo with curiosity. He'd only meant to pass the long journey with a little conversation, but he hadn't expected to meet someone interesting.

"How did you guess?"

"My roommate's a mechanic. He smells like machine oil too, and his hands are covered in calluses. He has to be ready to go at a moment's notice. The factory machines break down all the time, and when they're short-staffed, he has to rush back to fix them no matter where he is."

Honestly, with a little more fatigue and a pair of dark circles under his eyes, this man could have been a perfect copy of Lorenzo's roommate. Seeing him made Lorenzo feel oddly at home.

"I haven't seen him in almost half a month. For all I know, he's drowned in the factory."

"Well... I don't know what to say."

The man gave an awkward laugh and scratched his head. He wasn't too happy with the cursed job either.

"So what do you do for work?" The man was curious about Lorenzo.

"Hmm..."

Lorenzo fell silent for a moment, then said, "A detective. A second-rate detective."

He didn't intend to go into the details of his work. Whether it was catching cheating spouses or working for Shrike, it was all best kept in the dark. And there was no way he could talk about fighting Fiends.

"A detective?"

The word seemed to strike a nerve. This time, the man truly looked Lorenzo over, his gaze darting back and forth. The hidden details slowly aligned with someone he remembered.

"Then may I ask your name?"

As if to make absolutely sure, the man held out his hand, pretending he simply wanted to make a new friend.

Lorenzo took it naturally, then gave him a bright smile.

"Lorenzo Holmes."

Hearing the detective's name, the man paused, but he hid his reaction well and kept smiling as if nothing were amiss.

"Moon Naredo."

Looking at the detective whom Arthur and Shrike hated enough to tear limb from limb, Kestrel gave his name.