Chapter 224: That Man

Chapter 224: That Man

Turning sideways to avoid a drunkard charging wildly through the crowd, Emlyn frowned and flicked his clothes, continuing to squeeze toward the bar counter.

Throughout that process, he seemed to do nothing, yet the surrounding drinkers always failed to touch him. Whether in speed, agility, balance, or bodily coordination, he had reached a rather terrifying level.

At last, Emlyn arrived at the bar counter. He bent a finger and knocked against the wood.

“Where is Ian?”

The bartender glanced at him and said nothing, continuing to lower his head and wipe a glass.

“…” Emlyn froze in place. He felt that he must have done something wrong and had therefore failed to receive the expected answer. This made him somewhat embarrassed and angry. He very much wanted to reach forward and yank the bartender out.

However, he believed that would be unbefitting of a gentleman, so he forcibly restrained his emotions. He looked left and right and discovered that everyone was drinking.

After thinking for a moment, Emlyn tentatively said, “A glass of Aurmir red wine.”

The bartender’s glass-wiping hand stopped. He lifted his head and looked at the handsome man before him with black hair and red eyes, his gaze strange.

“We don’t have that.”

That was one of the world’s finest red wines, and its price was astonishing!

Emlyn was not stupid. From the other party’s gaze, he realized he had ordered a drink he should not have ordered. After carefully recalling, he said, “A Southville beer.”

“Five pence.” The bartender finally set down both glass and rag.

Emlyn directly took out a one-soli note.

“Keep the change.”

“Thank you.” The bartender pointed to the left. “Ian is in Card Room No. 1.”

A smile immediately appeared on Emlyn’s face. He was both pleased and proud that he had solved a real problem. He did not take the Southville beer and directly turned, walking toward Card Room No. 1.

Knock, knock, knock! He politely knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a slightly youthful voice sounded from inside.

Emlyn adjusted his collar and pushed open the door, only to find the scene inside somewhat different from what he had expected.

In his mind, since this was a card room, there should certainly have been a group of people around a long table playing games like Texas poker. Who would have known there were indeed seven or eight people, yet no cards at all? Before each participant lay a sheet of white paper covered with some kind of messy record. Apart from those, only fountain pens and many-sided dice sat on the table.

Emlyn instinctively cast his gaze toward the youngest person inside. It was a clean-looking older boy who also had bright-red eyes and looked only fifteen or sixteen.

“Ian?” Emlyn asked in confirmation.

Ian nodded with a smile.

“Yes. Sir, what can I do for you? Or would you like to join our game?”

“Game?” Emlyn instinctively asked back.

Ian chuckled.

“Yes, a game. I don’t like playing cards, nor do I like billiards, but since I spend every day here, I need to find something to do. I found inspiration in Emperor Roselle’s biography. That is, organizing people to sit together and attempt adventures on paper.

“In this game, as long as you follow the rules, you can become anyone: a doctor, an adventurer who likes eating vegetables, a private detective who always carries a wrench and pipe, or an archaeologist fond of sudden flights of fancy. Then you all travel together to an ancient castle, search for stories hidden in history, and fight all kinds of monsters.”

“That sounds a little interesting.” Emlyn inexplicably felt that this kind of game suited him rather well.

“Haha, would you like to join? This time, we’ve become involved in a conspiracy and are about to face a powerful ancient vampire. He appears to have a handsome face, but beneath his skin are pus-filled blisters scorched by boiling blood,” Ian warmly invited him.

Sanguine, thank you! Emlyn’s cheek twitched almost imperceptibly. He said directly, “I have a matter I wish to commission you for.”

“All right… Let’s go to the room next door.” Ian picked up his bowler hat and old satchel, then stood.

Next door was a billiards room, and no one was inside. The older boy, his movements skillful and bearing experienced, closed the door and inspected the room once before looking toward Emlyn.

“Sir, I don’t know you. Who introduced you here?”

Emlyn slightly lifted his chin and said with a smile, “Sherlock Moriarty.”

The moment his voice fell, he suddenly glanced left and right and lifted a hand to pinch his nose.

“So it was Detective Moriarty.” Ian visibly let out a breath of relief. “Then I can be at ease. By the way, didn’t he go to Desi Bay for vacation? When did he return?”

Emlyn lowered his right hand, his expression unchanged.

“He has not returned. I went to the place he rented to look for him.

“To be honest, a normal vacation should have ended in mid-to-late January, and it is already April.”

“Could something have happened to him?” Ian asked worriedly.

Emlyn thought about the abilities and mysteries Sherlock Moriarty had displayed, then shook his head.

“Perhaps he merely became involved in a complicated case.”

Ian said no more on that topic. Instead, he asked, “How should I address you? And what is your commission?”

“You may call me Mr. White.” Emlyn took out paper resembling wanted notices. “Help me find these five people.”

Ian accepted the papers and looked through them carefully for a while.

“Twenty pounds for one valid clue. One hundred and fifty pounds for a confirmed location. Is that acceptable?”

“No problem.” Emlyn felt this price was simply too cheap.

Compared to this, the price he had offered at the Tarot Gathering seemed far too exaggerated.

Ian folded the papers and asked one final question.

“Mr. White, if there are clues, where should I find you?”

“Harvest Church in the South Bridge District.” Emlyn had long since prepared the answer.

Hearing that, Ian studied him in surprise for a few seconds.

“You are a believer of the Earth Mother? That’s very rare in Backlund.”

“No!” Emlyn firmly shook his head. “I only volunteer there.”

Without waiting for Ian to speak, he asked first, “Who did you inherit your red eyes from?”

The moment he saw Ian, he had wanted to ask that question. In ancient times, red eyes were the signature trait of the Sanguine. However, during the Fourth Epoch, humans and Sanguine had once lived together for a long period, all as residents of the empire. Thus, widespread unions occurred and produced many descendants. Red-eyed “mixed-bloods” gradually increased and were inherited generation after generation, becoming one of the uncommon human eye colors.

Simply put, every red-eyed human had a Sanguine ancestor.

Ian answered somewhat blankly, “My father… Further up, I don’t know. I was a street child.”

Looks like he isn’t the type still connected to the Sanguine… Slightly disappointed, Emlyn paid twenty pounds as an advance, then turned and left the billiards room.

After he had gone far away, Ian did not immediately return to the card room. Instead, he closed the door again and spoke toward the empty air.

“Detective Moriarty still hasn’t returned to Backlund. I’m a little worried about him.”

In the empty air of the billiards room, a figure suddenly appeared. Her face was pale, her features delicate. She wore a small black soft hat and a matching Gothic-style court dress. It was Sharron the Wraith.

“He is doing very well,” Sharron answered without any emotional fluctuation. Her figure then became illusory and disappeared.

“You say that every time. Are you and Detective Moriarty in constant correspondence or something…” Ian murmured softly. He casually picked up the newspapers placed in the corner of the billiards room.

On top was the Tasok Times, and beneath it was a copy of Maritime News. The latter had originally focused on reporting conditions in Loen’s different colonies and events happening at sea. However, because under current technological conditions, sea news that reached Backlund was already severely outdated and of little use to those who needed it, sales were poor, and the paper grew worse and worse.

Later, at the suggestion of its new editor-in-chief, the newspaper’s style changed. It added many rumors from the sea, as well as various strange deeds involving pirates and adventurers. It began to seem more like a compilation of stories than a newspaper.

Unexpectedly, this style proved rather popular. In particular, content involving ghosts, specters, sea monsters, and treasure became the first choice in bars for the few literate people to boast about to the illiterate majority. After all, although it looked very fake, it was interesting enough.

Ian casually flipped through the newspapers and found nothing requiring attention. Only one report in Maritime News left a deep impression on him:

“According to reports, on the evening of March 25, the fleet of the Undying King attacked a vessel returning from East Balam to Feysac, plundering all cargo and wealth. Slaughterer Gilchies, true to his epithet, completed a bloody ‘funeral’…”

These pirates really are arrogant… Ian shook his head, put down the newspaper, and returned to the card room to continue his game.

Outside the bar, Emlyn boarded a carriage and leaned against the carriage wall, watching the streetlamps slowly retreat.

He pinched his nose again and silently muttered, “A Wraith?

“This arms dealer Ian really does have channels… Not bad!”

Emlyn then closed his eyes, having even greater expectations for his commission.

…

Sunlight streamed through the window, painting the captain’s cabin gold.

Edwina sat in her chair, holding a book. Looking toward the person opposite her, she said, “So you also believe that the three great empires—Solomon, Tudor, and Trunsoest—once coexisted?”

“That is precisely the necessary precondition for the War of the Four Emperors,” Klein replied simply.

In his hand was The Book of Three Worlds, which had once belonged to a member of the Life School and later fallen into Vice Admiral Iceberg’s hands. It described the material world, the spirit world, and the world of absolute reason. It also contained supplementary material on charmcraft, including quite a few advanced points. Klein’s focus today was studying that part, hoping to find a better way to use the Sea God Scepter and that Worm of Time.

Klein had actually discovered that the books Vice Admiral Iceberg collected were all unsystematic ancient documents of various kinds. This did not match the traits of someone backed by the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom. Therefore, he guessed that inside the Church of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom, orthodox and systematic mysticism knowledge was forbidden from being revealed to those outside the Church.

Edwina was just about to ask another question when she suddenly discovered that the Golden Dream’s speed was gradually slowing. She raised her head and looked out the window. After a few glances, she spoke in a cool voice:

“We’ve arrived at Bayam.”