Chapter 68: “Monster”

Chapter Sixty-Eight“Monster”

At dusk, the setting sun stretched the shadows of carriages and horses until they were long and thin across the road.

Having already explained things to Benson and Melissa, Klein had dinner at Blackthorn Security Company. Now he was riding a public carriage together with Old Neil toward the docks district.

He wore his original cheap formal suit, because he was worried that in a place like this, conflict might easily break out. If his carefully tended tailcoat were damaged, it would not merely hurt his heart—it would hurt his wallet.

When the sunlight took on a burning hue, the carriage stopped.

Old Neil, still dressed in that classical black robe and matching round-brimmed felt hat, walked toward the Dragon Bar across the slanted street, utterly unconcerned with other people’s gazes.

Even though the bar was still some distance away, even though its heavy door remained firmly closed, Klein could still hear waves of shouting from within, each louder than the last. They seemed to be cheering for some “hero.”

As he approached, he suddenly felt something. He turned his head toward the warehouse opposite the bar and saw, concealed on the rooftop, a burly man dressed in uniform.

The man carried a huge gray-white mechanical box on his back and held in his hands a thick, complicated rifle.

Between the gray-white metal box and the rifle of the same color, obvious pipes connected the two.

“A high-pressure steam rifle?”

Klein murmured in astonishment. Turning to Old Neil, he said, “This bar can actually get its hands on a weapon like that?”

That was a military-controlled item!

Although extracted phlogiston was used, the high-pressure steam backpack was still astonishing in both size and weight. Only a true iron-blooded soldier could carry such a thing. Bullets driven by that power reached extremely high velocities and possessed terrifying destructive force. With proper aiming, it was almost equal to an inferior sniper rifle.

“What?”

Old Neil narrowed his eyes and looked over. He too appeared puzzled.

“Something happened here?”

Something happened?

Klein looked around and indeed discovered several other men carrying repeating rifles, searching for something.

“What happened?” Old Neil asked, approaching the bar and questioning the burly man standing guard outside.

The burly man clearly recognized Old Neil. The muscles on his face twitched as he gave a bitter smile.

“The bar was nearly torn apart just now.

“They say some wanted fellow came to buy materials. Someone recognized him, and then things turned into this… My Lord, what exactly did he do? How dangerous is he, that they need to treat him like this? When I saw those guns, my legs went soft—softer than after fooling around with red-haired Sunny for an entire night!”

He did not know who the wanted man truly was, nor did he know that the people who came here to buy materials included Beyonders.

“A wanted fellow? Do you know his name?” Old Neil asked with interest.

“Called—called Tris?” the burly man answered, not especially certain.

Tris the Instigator?

Klein nodded in sudden understanding.

Tris had not previously known that Joyce Meyer had begun suspecting him. He had come openly to the underground market to purchase materials, only to be recognized by an informant from the Machinery Hivemind, the Mandated Punishers, or the Nighthawks, leading to an intense conflict.

“Was he caught?” Klein asked, tapping the ground lightly with his silver-inlaid black cane.

Judging from the situation around them, it seemed he had not been.

The burly man shook his head slightly and pointed with his chin toward the roof of the warehouse across the street.

“He rushed out before those terrifying fellows arrived. Whew. I have never seen anyone run faster than him!”

In truth, you still have not seen what an Assassin can really do. Otherwise you would be taken somewhere unspeakable for re-education…

Klein silently muttered to himself.

“Is the…