Chapter 66: A Midnight Fright

Chapter 66: A Midnight Fright

“Why would the confidential document I am escorting mention Utopia?”

“What is special about this place?”

“…”

One thought after another flashed through Wendel’s mind. His ears seemed to echo with a buzzing sound.

At that moment, he felt as though he had just relaxed after overusing his brain, as if he were about to fall ill.

Wendel swiftly forced himself to calm down. He carefully reviewed all his experiences since arriving in Utopia and discovered that no detail of anything had been problematic. Every single thing could have happened in ordinary daily life.

The only thing that left him a little uneasy was that his own arrival was too much of a coincidence.

Storms forcing steam trains to stop temporarily were common. But the station where the train had stopped being related to the confidential document in his hands was absolutely not something coincidence could explain.

With a solemn expression, Wendel stared at the confidential document on the table, hesitating over whether he should open it and read carefully.

Perhaps it only mentions “Utopia” in passing, and my actions would seriously violate internal discipline. Or perhaps this is a report written after some intelligence operative secretly investigated “Utopia,” and the contents inside will to some extent decide whether I live or die… After struggling for a while, Wendel glanced at the deep darkness outside the window and reached toward the document.

Only by staying alive can I consider whether I will be disciplined!

Having made his decision, Wendel swiftly opened the outer envelope and began reading the typed document inside.

As he read, his hands trembled slightly. He felt a chill run down his back, one even the burning coal stove could not save him from.

No matter how it was interpreted, the confidential report in his hands showed that there was a problem with Utopia. There was a problem with the entire town.

Perhaps this was not a town that existed in the real world!

Wendel’s mouth and tongue became dry. He seemed to hear Death dragging a scythe, slowly approaching him step by step.

Instinctively, he was about to stand up. Yet in the end, he controlled himself and did not blindly make an intense reaction.

That was because he felt that, in the darkness outside the window, in the rooms upstairs, and in the corridor by the door, pair after pair of eyes were watching him.

What should I do? Until now, nothing abnormal has happened… This means that if I know nothing, I may be able to safely greet daybreak… A great deal of material I’ve read shows that rashly revealing that one has already learned there is something strange about the surrounding environment will only cause danger to break out ahead of time… But I also can’t do nothing and entrust my fate to luck… Wendel recalled all kinds of dangers he had previously experienced and swiftly made a decision.

He would return to the steam train immediately and distance himself from Utopia to a certain extent.

The place had at least mostly normal people, while everywhere inside the city was dangerous.

Of course, Wendel could not simply rush back like that. He had to make himself appear normal enough, as if he were leaving the inn in the middle of the night and returning to the steam train station for some other reason.

Amid his surging thoughts, Wendel put away the confidential report, stood steadily, put on his coat, and wore his top hat.

Then, holding his suitcase in one hand and his umbrella in the other, he calmly walked to the door and turned the handle.

At that moment, the corridor was dim. Only several gas wall lamps on each side emitted insufficiently bright light, adding a hint of human presence to an environment so quiet that one could hear a sewing needle fall to the floor.

When Wendel stepped into the corridor, the wooden floor underfoot gave a faint creak. In the incomparably cold and silent night, that sound was so obvious, spreading very far, very far.

Frowning slightly, Wendel pretended everything was normal and walked forward, approaching the stairs at the middle of the corridor.

He walked without the slightest caution or concealment, completely unlike someone sneaking around.

Seeing the stairs come closer and closer, Wendel suddenly heard a creaking sound behind him.

“Sir, where are you going?” A somewhat halting male voice then entered Wendel’s ears.

Wendel’s body instantly stiffened. He slowly turned around and saw the wooden door to the “service room” open. A waiter had walked out and stood in the shadows at the doorway.

He quickly piled up a smile and said in a calm tone,

“I left an important item on the steam train. I’m afraid someone might take it, so I have no choice but to return now.”

At this point, he lowered his voice and complained,

“A murder happened in the inn. I don’t want to stay here any longer. I can’t sleep at all.”

“I am very sorry.” The waiter bent slightly and answered.

“I will not publicize this matter.” Wendel nodded in promise as he stopped lingering and turned back toward the stairs.

Perhaps because the light at night was dim, he walked very carefully and cautiously, each step as though he were moving along the edge of a cliff.

One step. Two steps. Three steps… Wendel, who had remained alert to the waiter behind him all along, finally returned to the first floor.

At that moment, there was no one in the inn’s lobby. Every object hid in darkness, its blurred outline illuminated by the faint light outside. They seemed like monsters waiting to devour humans.

Wendel looked straight ahead, passed through the deep, sunken lobby, and reached the entrance.

Just as he pushed open the door and went out, he suddenly heard a rustling sound behind him. It was like a rat moving, yet also as though someone were approaching lightly.

The back of Wendel’s head went numb, but he still held back the impulse to break into a run. Acting normal, he raised his head and glanced at the sky where the rain had already stopped.

Then he inhaled the cold, crisp air, identified his direction, and headed toward the steam train station.

His pace gradually quickened, making him appear as if he were somewhat afraid of the night and could not wait for this short journey to end.

As he walked, Wendel noticed a sign out of the corner of his eye:

“Utopia Telegraph Office.”

Telegraph office… Perhaps I can try sneaking in and send urgent telegrams separately to headquarters in Backlund and the Eskosen military base. Then I can expect rescue from demigods… If I really am trapped here and cannot leave, this is my only way to save myself… As this thought flashed through Wendel’s mind, he unobtrusively walked a few steps diagonally and arrived at the door of the Utopia Telegraph Office.

He did not hurry to search for a place where he could sneak inside. Instead, he concentrated and listened for movement inside.

He soon heard intermittent, rather heavy breathing.

That made Wendel sometimes feel that there was no one inside at all, and sometimes think there was more than one person.

Suddenly, the breathing stopped completely.

At that instant, every hair on Wendel’s body stood on end.

His intuition told him that behind the telegraph office’s door, a figure was quietly standing there!

Without hesitation, Wendel immediately abandoned the idea of sending a telegram, passed the main door, and continued forward.

During the rest of the journey, even a gust of wind made Wendel tremble with fear, afraid he would encounter some unknown danger.

Just like that, time flowed by little by little in Wendel’s torment. Finally, he returned outside the steam train station and saw that its gates were tightly closed, making it impossible to enter.

This did not trouble Wendel. He first handed the umbrella to his left hand, which was carrying the suitcase, then circled to the side, found a section of wall, pressed his palm against it, and rose into the air, easily vaulting over.

After his feet landed steadily on the ground, Wendel breathed out slightly and walked unhurriedly toward the platform ahead.

Just then, behind him came a nearly inaudible footstep.

“What are you doing here?” A low, hoarse voice sounded immediately afterward.

Wendel’s toes clenched, and cold sweat sprang out across his back.

He did not hesitate. While preparing at every moment to act, he made his slightly stiff body turn bit by bit toward the rear.

The first thing that entered his eyes was a classical glass lantern. Only then did he see the station worker from earlier.

Wendel exhaled and said with considerable complaint,

“On a night like this, in an environment like this, you should not appear in that manner.

“As a gentleman, one should try to avoid frightening others.”

“I am not a gentleman,” the station worker answered, not very friendly.

Wendel casually pointed to one corner of the platform.

“I’m going to the washroom.”

He had already observed the platform’s environment and layout.

“Then why did you come here?” the worker asked.

“I got lost,” Wendel answered concisely.

Then he ignored the other party and walked step by step toward the platform washroom.

Behind him, the station worker silently watched without speaking.

This gave Wendel tremendous psychological pressure, but he maintained his gait very well.

Inside the washroom, under the light of a gas wall lamp, Wendel spent nearly a minute relieving the tightness of his body before he finally managed to urinate.

Returning to the steam train and looking at passengers leaning against different positions in the carriage as they slept, Wendel finally recovered a little sense of security.

Over the next several hours, he did not sleep. He focused entirely on guarding against accidents.

Just as Wendel’s perception of time’s flow grew sluggish, the sky brightened little by little, driving away the darkness.

During the next two hours, the passengers who had gone to Utopia returned one after another. Some had bought a bottle of the local famous red wine; others looked haggard, as though they had not yet sobered from a hangover or had been beaten.

Wendel remained deeply wary of them, but he could not discover any abnormalities from the details.

Woo!

Finally, the whistle sounded. The steam train turned heavily and slowly from stillness into motion.

Amid the clattering echoes, the train left Utopia Station.

After that, they experienced another darkening of the sky, but fortunately, no storm descended. The sun soon pierced the clouds and illuminated the earth.

For Wendel, everything was so normal. From the moment he had arrived in Utopia last night until now, it had all been normal—if that confidential report were not hidden in his clothes, he would certainly not believe there was anything wrong with Utopia.

When the steam train arrived at the next station, one familiar to everyone, Wendel finally relaxed. Pain throbbed through his head in wave after wave, giving him the feeling that he had exhausted too much energy.

At that moment, he swiftly reviewed his experience in Utopia.

During that review, Wendel suddenly sat upright.

Last night, when he had used the washroom as an excuse, he had been holding a suitcase and an umbrella. He had not looked at all like a passenger who had temporarily come down from the steam train.

Yet the station worker had failed to notice that—or rather, had already noticed, but for some unknown purpose, had chosen not to expose him!