Mystery: From the Shadow World

Chapter 2 Shelter
On the silent street, a pungent yellowish mist lingered all around. Occasionally, one could see a gas lamp on the street, but none of them was lit. Only the crimson moonlight was pouring down from above.

Philip walked on the road, his body trembling uncontrollably due to the cold, but he did not stop. After all, at this time, there were few carriages in a shabby place like the East District, let alone at this time.

If he didn't leave quickly, he might run into someone familiar. Now his goal was very clear, which was to go to the steam train station and find a safe small city to hide from the limelight.

Extraordinary people are those who make potions from various extraordinary materials and gain special powers by taking them. The member of the Rose School who killed him before was one of them.

They mastered the potion of the "Prisoner" pathway. Philip was once a "madman" of Sequence 8 in this pathway. However, after being killed by the "Werewolf" Tyr of Sequence 7, the Beyonder characteristics that Philip took into his body were exploded as equipment.

Therefore, he could only be considered a half-Sequence Nine prisoner now, and his Beyonder characteristic was naturally sold for money or transferred to the Indulgence Faction.

That thing is much more valuable than the 300 pounds I have on me. I will take revenge sooner or later.
While his thoughts were wandering, Philip estimated the distance he had walked and shook his head. He didn't know how long it would take him to walk through this big city with a population of five million.

Or, find a hotel?

He was so busy running that he didn't notice it before, but now in this dimly lit and foggy place, he felt that something was staring at him in the dark, preparing for a fatal blow.

hiss~
Let’s find a place to hide first.

He couldn't guarantee that those indulgent guys had really gone far away. It was possible that they had other targets, or that they lived nearby. If he really ran into them by accident,
It's so chaotic during the day, maybe there's a chance to survive, but at night there's really nothing you can do except disturb the people before you die.

At this moment, a shelter for homeless people appeared in the distance.

There were two policemen holding short sticks standing at the door, standing there seriously. They seemed to notice Philip not far away, glanced at him silently, and did not react.

"Shelter"

Philip touched his chin and muttered these three words. He had never lived there before, so he didn't know the general situation. But since there were policemen, it meant that there was at least no danger to life or serious security problems.

The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. He stepped forward, but before he could say anything, the sturdier, older policeman on his left said coldly, "We won't lower the fee just because you came in the early hours of the morning."

Ah this.

Philip lowered his head, changed his tone slightly, and said fluently and nervously: "Okay, sir, I understand, but I want to know how to charge here. I have never been here before."

The policeman didn't bother to look at him, and just said to the person beside him: "Cole, take him in."

The young policeman standing on the right lowered his hat brim, nodded, then looked at the boy in front of him expressionlessly, waved the short stick in his hand inside, and signaled the other party to follow.

Inside the spacious shelter, many people were sitting scattered on more than a dozen rows of wooden benches. Most of them were wearing dirty work clothes, leaning back in their chairs, with visible fatigue on their faces, but they were completely unable to sleep.

Whenever someone closed their eyes for more than half a minute, the policemen roaming nearby would shake them awake with short sticks and add, "No sleeping allowed!"

what?
The moment he heard this, Philip even suspected that there was something wrong with his ears. However, the policeman named Cole turned to him calmly and said, "Can you afford one penny, two pence, or four pence?"

"Excuse me, what exactly is it?" Philip asked curiously as he took a copper penny from his pocket.

After hearing the slight sound of coins clinking, Cole explained, "If it's only one penny, you can only sit here and can't sleep, or sleep on the rope over there."

He stretched out his hand and pointed to the area on the right. Philip looked in the direction he was looking and saw many people hanging from ropes side by side, trying hard to fall asleep.

Philip blinked and froze in his place. However, this was not the end. Cole pointed to the left and said, "If it's two pence, you can sit on the chair over there and sleep with your body leaning on the rope hanging in front of you."

"Fourpence, thank you."

Philip took out four copper pennies and handed them to the policeman. He didn't dare to listen any further. His mind was filled with the complaint he had been unable to suppress for a long time: "Whoever designed this lousy place must be a bitch."

During this process, the policeman wandering in the hall just turned his head to look at the situation here, but after discovering the four pennies in Cole's hand, he naturally withdrew his gaze.

"Very good, come here." Cole put away the four pennies, waved at him, and then walked into the shelter.

Philip stayed where he was, looked around for two seconds, then shook his head and said to himself, "I may never understand this kind of performance art in my lifetime. It's outrageous."

A penny is about three or four dollars on Earth, but the shelter here can only be exchanged for a miserable night's sleep hanging on a rope.

He wouldn't even dare to think about it before.

Under Cole's guidance, Philip came to the interior of the shelter. The smell lingering in the room made him touch his nose, and he had a new understanding of the air quality in Backlund.

"I suddenly feel a little regretful. I feel that every second I stay in a place like this is harmful to my body. I hope the air in small cities will be better."

Just as he was thinking this, Cole stopped and pointed to the "bed" next to him and said, "You sleep here. Keep an eye on your belongings."

After saying that, without caring whether Philip responded or not, he walked back to the outside, leaving the dazed boy there, stroking his chin and thinking.

Looking at the narrow bed in front of me, which is only separated from the coffin by the coffin lid. No, it can no longer be described as a bed. Apart from a thin blanket, it is just a small coffin without a coffin lid!

Philip's eyelids twitched, but thinking that he had already paid and there was still a long time before dawn, he had to lie down resignedly.

After curling up in the coffin, perhaps because of his easy-going nature or something else, he didn't feel like he was dying. Instead, he was somewhat thankful that the people nearby didn't snore much and the smell wasn't that bad.

Of course, it is also possible that the nose has completely stopped working, so there is no reaction.

Philip closed his eyes and turned over, pressing the bag underneath, ready to use this position that he was least used to for the next few hours.

As his brain gradually became blurry, he soon fell into a deep sleep, but his consciousness sank strangely, like a fluid, into the abyss of shadows.

(End of this chapter)