Mr. Death in the Steam World

On the day Sidwin Ashton was sent to his country estate in the south, it rained lightly in Ironcrown.

Rain fell from the gray sky, pattering softly against the roof of the carriage.

He sat in the carriage, his hands tightly bound with ropes, his face as pale as paper, his lips purple, and he looked more than ten years older.

After the ritual failed, the magic within him completely dissipated.

For a magician who was once at the third rank, and even faintly touched the fourth rank, this was worse than death.

The carriage bumped along the muddy country roads for a whole day before finally arriving at its destination in the evening.

This is the original home of the Ashton family, now only an old butler and a few elderly servants remain to look after it.

To put it bluntly, this is a place used by the family to detain relatives who are "inconvenient to deal with but whom they do not want to see again."

Occasionally, a servant passing by his room late at night could hear him muttering to himself to the fireplace.

The once arrogant heir to a mining empire now cuts even a single rose with utmost care.

......

Mrs. Fallon's social circle became lively again on the third day after the incident ended.

That afternoon, she hosted a small tea party in her living room, inviting some of the most influential ladies in Ironcrown City's social circle. The theme of the tea party was originally "Spring Fashion Appreciation".

But after Mrs. Fallon finished her second cup of tea, she began to vividly recount the story of how "the handsome Southern detective and the church priest teamed up to thwart a mining conspiracy."

In her version, Moen, "wearing a well-tailored black suit, rescues a trapped girl with one arm from a sea of ​​fire," while Arthur, "wielding a holy sword, fights the black-clad devil for three hundred rounds."

She further embellished the description of the altar deep in the mine, the shattered crystals, the holy light descending from the sky, and how the "evil wizard with glasses" was defeated and forced to flee by the archbishop's holy light.

The ladies listened with rapt attention, so engrossed that they forgot to put down their teacups, which were already at their lips.

"What was that detective's name again?" someone asked.

"Mount Marcus." Mrs. Fallon covered her mouth with her fan, her eyes sparkling.

"It is said that he opened a detective agency in Kansas City, and business was so good that even the bishop of the church awarded him a medal."

"Wow, that's amazing! Is he married?"

"Oh dear, they're still young, why are you worrying about them?"

The ladies burst into laughter.

The story spread like wildfire through Ironcrown City's social circles.

Within three days, almost every club, salon, and tea party was discussing the "Southern detective who saved people from a fire" and the "temple priest who exorcised demons with a sword."

The versions of the story became increasingly outrageous. Some said that Lady Ron saw Moen carry three children out of the fire, while others said that Arthur split a small mountain in two with a single sword stroke.

Some say that the bespectacled wizard was actually a legendary criminal from a hundred years ago, who was hunted by the Church of the Holy See for a full century before being captured in Ironcrown.

When Moen heard these rumors in the Swallow Inn's restaurant, he almost spat out his soup.

"Rescuing a trapped girl with one arm?" He put down his spoon, turned to look at Arthur sitting beside him, and said, "Do you think a first-tier magician like me has that kind of ability?"

Arthur cut the steak on his plate with a blank expression.

"At least you weren't described as someone who fought a fierce battle with the black-clad devil for three hundred rounds while wielding a holy sword."

"Three hundred rounds, do you know what that means? I'd have to stand in front of that guy for at least two hours."

"Isn't this quite in line with your image, Father?"

Arthur glared at him.

Phils sat opposite, covering her mouth and laughing so hard her shoulders shook.

Melina sat next to her, looking at Moen and then at Arthur, her face full of admiration that said, "Wow, you guys are really that amazing."

"Don't listen to them," Moen told Melina. "It's all rumors."

"But," Melina whispered, "when Mrs. Fallon said you saved someone with one arm, I thought she was referring to the time she carried me out of the fire..."

Moen opened his mouth, but for a moment he didn't know how to refute it.

Emily came down the stairs, holding a newspaper that had just been delivered, her blue eyes curving into two crescent moons.

"Detective, you're a celebrity in Ironcrown City now." She spread the newspaper on the table and pointed to the front page of the social section.

"Look, yesterday's charity gala report even mentioned you—'Renowned Kansas City detective Mohn Marcus attended the gala as a special guest.'"

"When did I—" Moen picked up the newspaper, glanced at it, and then froze.

The report did mention his name, and the wording was quite formal, not at all like it was about an outside private investigator, but more like it was introducing a prestigious industry leader.

"Mrs. Fallon's influence is greater than I imagined. She has been cultivating social circles in Ironcrown City for over twenty years, and her words carry more weight than city hall announcements."

Moen put down the newspaper and rubbed his temples.

"This is not a good thing."

"I know." Arthur put down his knife and fork, picked up a napkin to wipe his mouth, and said, "Being too famous will attract unnecessary attention."

"Especially those who shouldn't be paying attention to us."

Fame has both advantages and disadvantages.

The benefit, of course, is that Marcus Detective Agency will have better business.

The downside is that his name and the faces of Arthur, Phils, and Emily will be remembered by more and more people.

Those who shouldn't remember them are precisely the ones with the best memories.

"Never mind," Moen folded the newspaper and put it aside. "We'll deal with whatever comes our way."

"If they really come knocking—" He paused, a slight smile playing on his lips, "then let them come."

Seeing that the atmosphere was good, Phils pursed her lips and took out a letter from her pocket.

The envelope was printed with the sword and book emblem of St. Alice Magic Academy, and the seal was stamped with red wax with the word "urgent" pressed on it.

"I received it this morning," Phils said softly. "The academy already knows I've become an agent."

Moen took the envelope but didn't open it; he just looked at it over and over.

"How did you know?"

"When the Vulcan ritual was completed, the light in the sky was visible across most of the kingdom." Fils gave a wry smile.

"The academy isn't blind."

"What did the letter say?"

Fils pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and saw neat, hurried handwriting on the paper—

Miss Ignis:

The academy's senior management has held urgent discussions regarding your appointment as the Vulcan's agent.

Several organizations have already expressed their desire to contact you through various channels.

Among them are those with good intentions, as well as those with unclear motives.

To ensure your safety, we recommend that you return to the college as soon as possible to register. The college will then provide you with the necessary protection and support.

Additionally, the principal wishes to meet with you in person.

—St. Alice Magic Academy Academic Affairs Office