Midgard Serpent

Old Dunling was huge—enormous.

As Inverwig's capital, Old Dunling had been slowly expanding throughout Inverwig's history. When steam power emerged, that expansion reached its peak.

Its built-up area had reached a staggering scale, occupying the central part of Inverwig Island. Yet the first drawback brought by such a vast city was the enormous cost of transportation.

For an East District resident to travel to a factory in the West District for work, walking alone would take half a day. Ordinary citizens simply could not afford steam cars, much less the damned expense of keeping a horse and riding it to work.

To solve this problem, the Mechanical Institute had begun a new round of renovations in Old Dunling more than a decade ago. They opened underground tunnels and built trains that could cross the entirety of Old Dunling. They called them subways, like shrunken underground trains. Above ground, rails embedded into the streets covered the city, and steam trams called Iron Snake ran across them.

With Old Dunling as its testing ground, this transportation system had spread across the nation after proving successful. In recent years, they had also attempted to incorporate Zeppelins into this massive network. The skies, too, would bear the footprints of Inverwig's people.

Midgard Serpent.

The Mechanical Institute's engineers had named this transportation system after the great serpent of Norse mythology. This beautiful and bountiful world was the Midgard of those myths. Then, anyone who paid a modest price could become part of this worldly serpent, traveling through an ever-shrinking world surrounded by machinery and steam.

Victoria Central Hospital counted as a well-known stop as well. A Steam Tram passed by every dozen or so minutes, and Lorenzo happened to catch one this time.

"Sorry, my friend!"

The doors opened, and Lorenzo carried that dangerously imposing Shotgun straight toward the driver's cabin.

After driving away the innocent passengers, he tossed the driver off the Steam Tram without much resistance. Then Iron Snake spewed steam, gradually accelerated along the rails, and shot forward.

When had law-abiding Old Dunling citizens ever seen anything like this? Even Press was a little dumbfounded.

This was Old Dunling, the heart of Inverwig. At every moment, at least three Zeppelins patrolled the skies on standby. Above them stood fully armed Sky Cavalry clad in red cloaks, a formidable line of defense for Old Dunling's order and safety. When an emergency occurred, all you would see was one of those enormous things blotting out the sky. Then, beneath its shadow, red-clad soldiers would slide down ropes from above and blow your head apart with a single shot.

First there had been a steam-pipeline explosion and fire, then a gunfight, and now the hijacking of a Steam Tram. Though no one yet knew what exactly was happening, those troublemakers would certainly be caught and locked away until they died.

This was a major event in Press's career. Only after the fact did he grab his gun and run toward the Steam Tram, but then he spotted a figure hanging from its rear.

Press's heart immediately skipped half a beat.

"This... has to count as a third-class merit award, right?"

Despite the fierce wind roaring past her ears, the girl still looked utterly unconcerned as she kept muttering to herself.

Eve clung desperately to a handle on the Steam Tram. At the very last moment before it started moving, she had finally managed to catch up.

This unlucky girl had yet to realize just how dangerous her situation was. Her mind was filled entirely with the next day's Queen's Daily: New Suaran Hall officer cracks major case on her first day, receives third-class merit, invited to Platinum Palace to meet the Queen, rises to the pinnacle of life and becomes an Old Dunling police inspector—that sort of ridiculous nonsense.

The thought of reaching the pinnacle of her life before thirty was truly unbearably dull.

Lorenzo, atop Iron Snake, did not share Eve's sense of dullness. Right now, he was feeling fantastic.

The whistle blared continuously, like the grim reaper rushing to kill someone. Pedestrians scattered out of the way.

Lorenzo was a studious man. His room was piled high with books, and he knew a little about everything, including Steam Trams. Though he did not understand their exact operation in detail, the controls looked simple enough that he figured he could manage the basics.

He had to catch up with those people. They were the only clue in this cloud of mystery.

Soon, the group entered Lorenzo's sight. Old Dunling's roads were crowded, and horses were doomed to move slowly unless you were a mounted police officer blowing a whistle all the way—or an Iron Snake like Lorenzo's that had no regard for life. Between the law and their lives, even the most ill-tempered citizens were happy to make way.

He jammed something against the control lever, grabbed the steel edge, and flipped directly onto the roof.

The people at the Mechanical Institute might have been a little insane, but their work was rigorous. Steam Trams had been part of the Midgard Serpent system for many years, and they had reliable emergency measures. Under emergency braking, they could come to a rapid halt.

His gaze traveled along the barrel and settled on the "suspects" not far away. Lorenzo did not need to catch them all. He only needed the slowest one.

He pulled the trigger, and thunder erupted.

The bullet tore through a horse's leg. The poor animal fell with its rider and slid several meters across the ground. Lorenzo thought he had succeeded, but another gunshot rang out, and the suspect on the ground was shot dead.

No survivors.

Only then did Lorenzo truly realize how troublesome this situation was. He was not facing a simple group of thugs. Ordinary thugs did not possess such unwavering resolve. There had to be someone among them acting as insurance, responsible for killing anyone who fell behind and guarding the secret of the Silver Fish to the death.

This was not something those Lower District street punks could pull off. Lorenzo had reached a deadlock, but the way to break it was simple: kill until only one remained.

Human resolve could be steadfast, but it could also be fragile. Lorenzo was betting on whether, once he caught the person acting as insurance, that person would have the courage to put the gun barrel in his own mouth.

One ahead and one behind, a rare chase unfolded through Old Dunling.

The suspects began changing direction. Continuing forward would take them into the Inner District, where patrol officers were everywhere. Their goal was the Lower District. Once they reached that chaotic place, even if Suaran Hall intervened, it would not be able to drag them out. It was a tumor growing on Old Dunling—ripping it off by force would only leave both sides wounded. That was why that bastard Shrike could be so arrogant and still live for so long.

He had to intercept them before they reached the Lower District. Otherwise, once they got there, Lorenzo might not even be able to protect himself.

Come on, use that clever brain of yours. Your morals may be second-rate, but your mind is first-rate!

He desperately recalled everything that might be useful. Countless lines formed a map of Old Dunling in his mind. Across it, the blue line representing Lorenzo chased the red line, while the red line was about to reach its destination—the Lower District.

The blue line continued extending, but at the next intersection, it shattered into countless branches that filled every street in Old Dunling. They came from every direction, surrounding and intercepting the red line.

Finally, just as the red line was about to reach its destination, a blue line blocked its path.

Thanks to the Old Dunling Steam Tram route map hanging in the driver's cabin, Lorenzo had found the only route.

Eve used all her strength to finally climb into the Steam Tram carriage. Back during police academy training, her instructor had said that Eve was an excellent detective, except that her stamina was not particularly good. But things were different now. Transportation was everywhere, and detectives no longer had to run themselves half to death just to chase someone.

If she ever saw her instructor again, Eve would definitely have a proper talk with him about this issue. Of course, first she had to make this damned Steam Tram stop.

"Stop it!"

Eve raised her pistol at Lorenzo in the driver's cabin. The distance between them was not great. Despite the machine's deafening roar, her voice still carried clearly.

But Lorenzo did not stop. Instead, he turned back with a friendly expression.

"I'm not your enemy, Detective. They are."

Eve knew Lorenzo meant the people fleeing ahead, but she remained wary and refused to lower her gun.

"I'm a detective. A private detective."

"A detective carrying a Shotgun?"

"Most of my colleagues carry guns. Mine is simply a little unusual. You can think of me as part of the minority."

"Do you know how much trouble you've caused? I even have the authority to shoot you dead right now!"

Eve was bluffing with that last sentence. In truth, she was not entirely sure when she was supposed to fire her weapon. She probably needed Press to lead her through a few real operations first.

"This much commotion? You could call it my personal style. Rather than standing still and pretending to ponder deeply, I'm more of a man of action."

Lorenzo was skilled at attaching labels to himself. A tiny label could make people imagine a great deal. That was something his cheap instructor at the Royal Academy of Arts had taught him.

Without giving Eve time to think, Lorenzo swiftly changed the subject.

"Detective, did you know this thing can actually go faster?"

He pointed to the steel creation beneath their feet, looking perfectly composed as if he had not noticed the gun aimed at him.

"Every technology in human history begins with military use before gradually reaching civilian life. Take the Zeppelins being prepared for the Midgard Serpent system in recent years. They were originally military airships. Ground artillery could never reach their altitude. Under the cover of clouds, they could deploy troops and launch air raids."

"Even Midgard Serpent itself began as a military system. Its purpose was that, with a single order from the Queen, we could plunge the continent across the sea into artillery fire. Wherever railways reached, steam trains could send Inverwig's soldiers to the battlefield at any time. The Steam Tram beneath our feet is the same. It was born during Old Dunling's worst days of public disorder."

Lorenzo rested a hand on the control lever and slowly stood. He had left the Shotgun on the console, and to prove to Eve that he posed no threat, he deliberately raised his other empty hand.

"This thing called Iron Snake really was once an iron serpent. Its seats were filled with fully armed soldiers, and its exterior was covered in solid armor. Even gunfire would leave nothing more than dents. The Zeppelins overhead handled command. Wherever there was a riot, Iron Snake would go. The armor would rise as one, gun barrels would extend from the gaps, and then they would pull the triggers."

Back then, Inverwig had only just become the world leader in steam technology. Spies and agents from every nation were everywhere, and Old Dunling was in complete turmoil.

Lorenzo swallowed, then said,

"What I'm saying is, this thing has far more power than its specifications claim. It still uses the Watt Type III steam engine from all those years ago. Decades ago, it could carry a carriage full of soldiers and several tons of armor while running like the wind, yet now it can barely move with a few citizens aboard."

"The engineers got lazy. They restricted its output. Under its civilian disguise, it is still a bloodstained weapon. But if you understand even a little mechanics and the structure of a Steam Tram, those restrictions are easy to bypass."

Eve sensed that something was wrong. Clearly, the intuition she had always relied on had not abandoned her this time. The moment Lorenzo finished speaking, he yanked the control lever down with all his strength, while Eve instinctively pulled the trigger.

The bullet left the chamber, and the Steam Tram began swaying violently as if it were about to fall apart. The tremendous impact flung Eve aside and smashed her heavily against the iron wall. Then, with the sound of shattering glass, endless wind poured inside.

Why?

Eve struggled to raise her head. That damned detective stood steadily in the driver's cabin. Her bullet had missed, only shattering the windshield.

She did not understand where the sudden disturbance had come from, but then she felt it. The entire carriage was shaking violently. This Steam Tram called Iron Snake had broken free from its original limits. Its speed continued to climb, until at last it reached the glorious performance it once possessed.

As if answering Eve's question, Lorenzo pointed to her side amid the violent jolting. Several cloth bags hung from the iron wall there.

Steam Tram commutes could last a long time, so to help passengers pass those tedious hours, the bags were usually stuffed with that day's newspapers and other boring books.

For convenience during maintenance, the engineers placed Steam Tram manuals and publicly available blueprints inside as well. It was meant to educate the public, but apparently Lorenzo was the only person who ever bothered to read those dull books. Today, that had finally paid off.