Death Train

Moon Reynard... or rather, Kestrel, watched the detective before him with keen interest. There were many legends surrounding this man, though he had not expected to encounter him today.

A mysterious detective who arrived in Old Dunling six years ago, he had single-handedly orchestrated the horrific Red River Massacre to secure the support of Shrike in the city.

Kestrel could be considered a participant of sorts, and he knew that case well. At the time, various factions were rising in the Lower District, nobles were colluding with gangs, and Shrike's position was crumbling; he no longer had the capacity to control these thugs. To reclaim his dominance over the Lower District, Shrike gave Lorenzo his first mission.

Investigate evidence of the gangs' and nobles' crimes. With proof in hand, the military would march into the Lower District, reshuffling everything and liquidating the nobles who sought to control the area.

In return, Shrike would grant Lorenzo, this outsider, a new life: a completely legal identity, a dream job, and a brand-new existence.

Lorenzo eventually succeeded, though he did so in a way that defied everyone's imagination.

He found those people, used torture to make them confess everything, and then killed them. By the time Shrike arrived, floating corpses littered the Thames. The murky river water turned dark red, and as one scream followed another, name after name was added to the list.

"Sigh, honestly, Old Dunling really isn't a great place. You only see a sunny day once every few hundred years; it's enough to ruin anyone's mood."

Lorenzo had become talkative. He stared at the pitch-black darkness outside the window, his fingers compulsively plucking petals from the flower box and crushing them, leaving a faint, fresh scent on his hands.

"Indeed, but the west is much better. Even if it's for work, you might as well treat it like a vacation."

Kestrel replied with a smile.

He had expected Lorenzo Holmes to be a cold-blooded killer, but after spending this much time together, his preconceived notions had been shattered. Still, he did not let his guard down; everyone knew how to wear a mask.

"Well, I'm going to the restroom."

With that, Kestrel signaled to Lorenzo and headed toward the carriage behind them. The moment he turned away, the smile vanished from his face, replaced by a cold, icy expression.

This mission was of vital importance. To ensure the weapons from Berhans were not discovered by any curious passengers, Kestrel had boarded the train first to guard the cargo. He simply hadn't expected to run into Lorenzo here.

According to Shrike's dictated account from his hospital bed, it was Lorenzo who had abducted Eve Phoenix. While it was unclear how he had escaped the Underground Palace, it was obvious that this mysterious detective was involved with the demons.

The Purification Agency maintained a hardline stance against such individuals. Under normal procedures, knights armed with sophisticated weaponry would have knocked on Lorenzo's door the day after the Underground Palace collapsed. However, due to Lorenzo's track record from the Red River Massacre and a shortage of high-ranking knights, his arrest had been delayed.

Now that this troublemaker had arrived on the Radiance, Kestrel wasn't sure what he intended to do, but for the sake of caution, he decided to notify Shrike.

He pushed through heavy iron doors and passed the cargo crates ahead. Even the train conductors had not noticed that an extra carriage had been added to the very front of their train.

Behind thick steel plates stood heavily armed soldiers carrying weapons provided by the Mechanical Institute—they were nothing more than cold, killing machines.

A radio station sat in the center of the carriage, stocked with all manner of supplies. It was less of a carriage and more of a mobile command post. Soldiers stood guard at the far end, and beyond them lay the forbidden door, where the weapons from Berhans lay in silent slumber.

"Tell Shrike to prepare himself. We have some unwelcome guests."

With that, Kestrel took a revolver from the weapon rack and concealed it beneath his coat. Maintaining goodwill was only possible if one held a weapon in hand; one could never be too vigilant against a man who could crawl out of the Underground Palace without a trace.

Thinking this, Kestrel prepared to return to his seat, but suddenly, thunderous gunfire erupted from the back of the train.

A few minutes earlier.

Watching Kestrel depart, Lorenzo looked out the window in boredom. There was nothing to see outside but a thick, impenetrable blackness. His gaze drifted back into the carriage, and he began to size up the passengers.

Lorenzo had been a layman when he first entered the detective business. He remembered reading in a book that the best way to cultivate the "deductive method" was to observe passersby, using their attire and demeanor to judge their profession, history, and so on.

At first, this training had been difficult for Lorenzo because his eyes were always drawn to the young girls on the street, which usually resulted in him being chased by patrolmen...

Well, enough about those unpleasant things. Lorenzo's gaze fell on a nearby passenger, and he began to appraise him.

He looked like an ordinary middle-aged man in a gray, washed-out coat, carrying a heavy suitcase. Like Kestrel, he appeared to be just another unlucky middle-aged man on a business trip, his head resting against the seat back, drifting into sleep.

Then the next, and the next...

As he continued his observations, Lorenzo realized there were no women or children in the entire carriage, not even any elderly people. It was almost entirely filled with corporate drones like Kestrel.

Lorenzo stood up. He felt something was wrong. This route was, to some extent, a tourist line, yet it was filled with workers heading to their jobs. No women, no children—this was very wrong.

He kept his expression neutral. For safety's sake, he picked up his suitcase and flower box and walked casually through the carriage. He pushed through the heavy iron doors; whether it was the conductors or others, there was an indescribable feeling in the air. Outside the windows, the darkness was absolute, as if the train had unknowingly driven into an abyss.

Suddenly, he seemed to spot something and sat down in the corner of another carriage.

"So, why are you here?"

Those connected to the darkness were also connected to each other. Like beacons in the night, they would always see one another. Even though the girl before him had disguised herself beyond recognition, the scent of her Secret Blood was unmistakable to Lorenzo.

"Because I have a commission I want to give you."

She looked up. Eve's fair face was smeared with dirty coal dust, and her bright eyes were filled with terror.

After escaping Phoenix Manor by train, Eve had followed the address on the business card to find Lorenzo's home, but it was Mrs. Vanrude who had opened the door. By then, Lorenzo had already departed for the Central Station. Eve had run with all her might, only catching the Radiance at the very last moment.

"...What happened?"

The look in the girl's eyes forced Lorenzo to become serious.

"I saw them... those demons."

Eve finally uttered the word "demon." Under constant pressure, she was forced to confront the creations of this nightmare.

"They were right beside me. They stared at me and said they had found me..."

Her voice trembled. Ever since she fled Phoenix Manor, this had been a flight for her life. The darkness had never been so terrifying; it seemed as if demons were lurking everywhere, watching her.

"Found you? Is this what you call Spirit Sight? It's just a degree of hallucination. It won't affect reality. Just think of it as a nightmare you're having while awake."

Because he frequently consumed Mandrake Herb, Lorenzo was all too familiar with such things, and he offered her words of comfort.

To a certain extent, Lorenzo was actually trying to find a way to send Eve away. The end of this journey was the mysterious Sacred Coffin; ordinary people who came into contact with it would only be eroded into demons. And for someone like Eve, who possessed Secret Blood, once she was fully eroded, she would become a demon far more dangerous than the common kind.

Although she had killed many teammates before, Eve was still so young; there was no need for her to go to this godforsaken place.

"No, unlike a hallucination, it can actually see me."

Eve said anxiously. Her mouth hung slightly open as if she wanted to say something, but because the thing was so indescribable, she racked her brains, unable to figure out how to explain it.

"It's like... like... two worlds overlapping!"

Eve shouted.

"Didn't you say it yourself? As they deepen, they can see us. I'm certain that monster saw me!"

Eve poured everything she had into her explanation, while the darkness chased her, attempting to swallow her like a flickering flame.

An ominous and eerie power shrouded everything. The monsters had many ways to spread their corruption; it could be said that anything capable of carrying "information" could become a medium for them.

A beam of light that could be described.

A painting depicting the image of a monster.

A book written about fighting them.

Or perhaps, a girl who had been discovered by a monster and was speaking of it out of fear.

"I've been... discovered..."

Seeming to have exhausted all her strength, Eve said this last part with terror and exhaustion.

Then, as the circuits burned, the electric lights in the carriage flickered out one by one. Twisted, eerie shadows slowly rose from the dark corners. For this brief moment, the world of nightmares overlapped with reality, grinding its claws and teeth with a frenzied, malicious intent.

Eve whipped out the revolver known as Death Knell and pointed the muzzle into the nameless darkness. She was terrified and furious, but it was all too dark—so dark that she couldn't see a thing.

"Ah... what a pain."

In the darkness, surrounded by a pack of wolves, the man spoke with a sense of helplessness, sounding like a corporate slave who had worked for days and was suddenly called in for overtime just as he was about to go home and rest.

A warm hand gently stroked Eve's head, as if to comfort her. Immediately after, the girl caught the scent of a crisp, cool floral fragrance, and soft petals began to fall like snow in the darkness, dancing in chaotic swirls.

Delicate petals clung to the Winchester. Smelling the fragrance mixed with gunpowder, the Flower Box dropped heavily to the ground like a funeral rite. More petals fell in its wake, and a blinding flash of fire erupted from the muzzle, illuminating the surrounding darkness and the hideous, twisted faces of the passengers.