“Spiders… and… the Moon?”
Holding the notebook and photos in her hands, Dorothy murmured to herself in confusion. The entire journal recounted the events in a vague and fragmented manner, making it difficult to understand the full picture—it could only be guessed at.
“I’ve heard of Razor Mountain Range before. It’s a remote mountainous region in the northern part of North Shore County. The terrain there is treacherous, and transportation is inconvenient. Some mountain dwellers, largely unaffected by the Industrial Revolution, still live there. Because of the high cost of development, neither the kingdom’s government nor capitalists are keen on investing in that area.”
“Based on the contents of this journal, a hunter squad from the Serenity Bureau ventured into the Razor Mountains for an investigation, only to uncover some strange occurrences—ruins with moon-related significance and customs and beliefs involving spiders. What kind of secrets are hidden deep in those mountains? …Judging by all this bloodstaining, it seems like things didn’t end well for that squad. The Ulster branch must have realized that something serious was at play, which is why they decided to send this information to the headquarters…”
“And as for that Beyonder named Jim, what was his true motive in trying to prevent the headquarters from obtaining this information? He went so far as to assassinate the branch personnel on the train… It seems there’s quite a significant secret behind all this…”
These thoughts ran through Dorothy’s mind, but she had no intention of solving the mysteries in this journal. Although the events were peculiar, they had little to do with her personally. The Serenity Bureau was already handling the matter, so she had no reason to concern herself with it. Her only task was to find a way to deliver these items to the Serenity Bureau headquarters.
“A notebook and some photos—these aren’t of much use to me, so I might as well return them to the bureau. Hopefully, they’ll reward me, just as Sodod had promised.”
Dorothy thought to herself. To be honest, she was somewhat disappointed that the mysterious cargo only turned out to be some documents and not a powerful mystical artifact. If it had been something truly valuable, she wouldn’t have minded keeping it for herself.
That said, it wasn’t a complete loss. The notebook and photos carried a certain level of cognitive poison, making them equivalent to a mystical book. At the very least, she could absorb some spirituality from them.
“So the nature of the content recorded in this notebook and these photos are associated with Shadow and Chalice? I wonder which parts belong to Shadow and which to Chalice…”
After extracting the spirituality, Dorothy assessed the changes in her spiritual reserves. Since she hadn’t overused Revelation, she didn’t count it. The main concern was Chalice. Between using two Devouring Sigils and overloading her ring, she had spent a total of 3 points of Chalice. After factoring in the spirituality gained from the documents and her remaining reserves, Dorothy’s current spiritual status was:
Looking at her current spiritual reserves, Dorothy couldn’t help but frown.
“Ugh… As expected, without the ‘generous donations’ from the Eucharist, my Chalice reserves are dropping at a visible rate. Chalice and Revelation are my primary sources of spiritual expenditure. If my Chalice drains this fast, it’s going to be a problem… I wonder if there’s any Chalice society in Tivian that can make a ‘donation’ to me…”
With that thought, Dorothy packed everything on the table into her magic box, changed into her sleepwear, and lay down on the bed. Listening to the rumbling and vibrations of the train, she slowly drifted off to sleep.
The night passed quickly. By early morning, passengers on the train were waking up. After finishing breakfast, they waited quietly for another half a day. Finally, the train reached the final stop of its journey—Tivian.
On either side of the train, the once-empty wilderness gradually gave way to towering buildings, growing denser and taller. Looking out through the train windows, one could see brick-and-stone houses flashing past.
Converging with numerous other railway lines, the steam train gradually slowed down as it entered a vast steel-framed dome. Eventually, it came to a stop at the platform.
Waiting on the platform were several police officers and a swarm of reporters from various newspapers. The police were there to take over the now-concluded case on the train, while the journalists were eager to seize the latest headlines.
“A Murder Case on a Train Bound for the Royal Capital”—if they put this headline on tomorrow’s newspaper, it would surely attract a lot of attention.
After the train stopped, the conductor walked up to a private compartment, knocked respectfully on the door, and said, “Mr. Ed, we’ve arrived. The police and journalists are waiting outside regarding the case.”
The conductor knocked but received no response. Frowning, he knocked again, only to be met with continued silence.
Seeing this, the conductor tried turning the compartment’s doorknob. It was unlocked. When he stepped inside, he found the compartment empty—completely clean and neatly arranged, with even the bedding carefully folded.
On the table, there was a note.
The conductor walked over and picked it up. It was left behind by the detective, Ed.
Please forgive my unannounced departure. Do not be puzzled about how I left the train before it stopped—being a detective, I have my ways.
I do not wish to engage too much with the police and journalists, especially the journalists. I have no desire to be surrounded by a flock of noisy turkeys clucking away, interrogating me as if they were inquisitors trying to dig out my every secret.
So, I chose to leave ahead of time. I leave it to the train crew to explain last night’s tragedy to the public. Whether or not you mention me is of no concern—you are more than welcome to take full credit for capturing the culprit. I won’t mind.
I am merely a detective who pursues the truth and upholds justice. Fame is nothing more than an inconvenient byproduct. I sincerely hope that you all receive a generous reward from the police department and the Royal Railway Company.
Inside the compartment, the conductor remained silent for a long time after reading the note. Finally, he let out a deep sigh.
“A detective who seeks only the truth and justice, unconcerned with fame? What a noble man…”
The conductor sighed in admiration. Then, as if making a decision, he tucked the note into his pocket, walked out of the compartment, and headed toward the front of the train, where the crew was gathered.
“Gentlemen, Mr. Ed has already left ahead of us. He is a man of great intellect and noble character—uninterested in fame, unwilling to claim the honor that rightfully belongs to him. Instead, he has chosen to let us take the credit for bringing the criminal to justice.”
As soon as the conductor finished speaking, the train crew reacted with a mix of emotions—some were surprised, some disappointed, and others excited.
Sweeping his gaze over his crew, the conductor’s expression grew solemn. He continued,
“Gentlemen, the company’s rewards are tempting. However, I believe we should follow Mr. Ed’s example—forsake vanity and personal gain in pursuit of a higher moral standard. He is a gentleman, and we, too, should act as gentlemen.”
“I propose that we recount the entire case truthfully to the police and the journalists. Let those reporters record and publish every detail of Ed’s deductions in tomorrow’s newspaper so that more people can read about them.”
“We must not only highlight his intelligence but also emphasize his character. In this age of greed and self-interest, he will be a role model for many.”