Mr. Death in the Steam World

In the world before the time travel, walkie-talkies were not uncommon items.

But in an era when steam engines were just beginning to roar and horse-drawn carriages were still the primary mode of transportation, a magical badge that enabled remote, instant communication seemed like alien technology.

"You'll see when you meet her," Arthur shrugged, a wry smile playing on his lips—a smile that was hard to decipher as either admiration or resignation.

"She always had a lot of fresh and quirky ideas, and this badge is just one of the least noteworthy of her many creations."

"Once everyone's here, we can find a place to get together."

Moen nodded and carefully pinned the badge to the inside pocket of his coat.

After finishing their business, Arthur and Fils got up to say goodbye.

As she reached the door, Phils suddenly turned around, took a small booklet from her handbag, and tossed it toward Moen.

Moen reached out and caught it. Looking down, he saw a crooked magician's hat drawn in colored ink on the cover, with a cluster of flames emerging from the tip of the hat.

Beneath the hat was a line of crookedly handwritten title: "108 Secrets to Becoming a Novice Magician!"

"These are notes I compiled myself when I first enrolled in school."

Fils stood with her hands on her hips, a hint of smugness in her voice.

"Although it's from two years ago, it's still somewhat useful for beginners. Take a look."

As she spoke the last sentence, her tone suddenly turned indignant, her azure eyes glancing sideways at Moen.

"Hmph, why do you, someone who has nothing to do with magic, have fifty-two magic loops, while I, with my family's magic tradition, only have thirty-one?"

Moen weighed the booklet in his hand and nodded gratefully.

"That's not how it works, Miss Ignis. You're the hard worker, and I'm the talented one. We both have bright futures."

Phils pursed her lips, clearly not satisfied with his answer, but said nothing more, turned and followed Arthur, the two disappearing around the corner one after the other.

Back on the second floor of the office, Moen couldn't wait to sit down at his desk.

The first page of the booklet, written in bold, read: "Congratulations on becoming a magician! From today onwards, you are a member of the extraordinary world!"

Moen rolled his eyes and continued reading.

"First and foremost, the most important thing is that everyone's magic has different attributes."

"Your magic attribute determines which type of spell you are best suited to use, as well as your combat style and future development direction."

"The simplest way to figure out your magic attribute is to observe your destiny constellation."

Moen closed the booklet, shut his eyes, and let his consciousness sink into his body.

After he became a magician, the Death Note now quietly floats in the center of his magic circuit.

If this is a reflection of his Destiny on the nature of his magic, then what would his magical attribute be?

Death? Darkness? The end?

He muttered a few words to himself, then shook his head.

Guessing won't help.

"New players often struggle to understand their attributes, and I was the same way back then, don't worry!"

"At times like these, some small gadgets that can be used as test subjects come in handy."

"A leaf, a stone, a feather—you can try them all."

Moen nodded. The method was indeed simple and intuitive. He closed the booklet and sincerely thanked Phils.

Although this guy is sharp-tongued, he's actually quite nice to him in his actions!

He glanced at the sky outside the window; it was still early, so he decided to give it a try at the nearby park.

When he arrived at the park, he tried picking up a pebble, holding it in his palm, and slowly infusing it with a trace of magic.

No response.

He didn't lose heart. He put the stone aside and picked a tender leaf that hadn't fully unfolded yet to try again.

This time, things have changed.

The edges of the leaves began to curl at a speed visible to the naked eye, and the original tender green gradually faded, first turning into light yellow, then into withered yellow, and finally into grayish brown.

In just a dozen breaths, the entire leaf withered completely in his palm.

It seems his magic attribute is death?

He thought for a moment, then stood up and walked to the small fountain in the center of the park.

The reaction on the water's surface is more intuitive than that on the leaves.

Centered on his fingertip, within a fist-sized area, the water suddenly began to flow at an unusually fast speed.

The ripples on the water's surface seemed to be accelerated, one circle disappearing before another appeared.

But once the ripples spread outwards and merged into the entire pool, the water flow returned to its normal speed, as if nothing had happened.

Moen withdrew his finger, and a clear idea took shape in his mind.

Water cannot die, so it seems that its magical properties must be related to time.

More accurately, it accelerates the passage of time for things.

The Death Note reaps death, and its magic accelerates the process towards death.

All life, all existence, is confined to time, and he possesses the power to manipulate the hands of time.

Recalling the various works he had read before his transmigration, Moen couldn't help but smile as he realized that any ability related to time was weak.

When he returned to the office, he saw a young girl standing in front of the door from afar.

She was a girl who looked only slightly older than Phils.

She had striking long curly hair and wore a light green dress with intricate vine patterns embroidered on the hem, and off-white lace trim on the cuffs and collar.

Hearing footsteps, she suddenly looked up, a glint of light flashing in her emerald eyes.

"Excuse me! Are you from this detective agency?"

She hurried to meet him, but stared intently at Moen's face.

"Um, I am indeed a detective from this agency. And you are?"

"Detective...you're so handsome!" she blurted out.

"Are you a theater star? Or a modeling agency representative?"

Moen paused as he reached out to open the door.

Turning his head, he saw the girl clasping her hands together, her eyes sparkling as she looked at him.

"Uh, I'm just an ordinary detective."

Moen looked away somewhat awkwardly, took out his key, and unlocked the door.

"Please come in, miss. We can discuss what you need from inside."

As soon as the door was pushed open, a black shadow darted down the stairs.

Lucy walked gracefully to the center of the living room, a plush ball that Moen had just bought for her a couple of days ago dangling from her mouth.

"What an adorable kitten!!!"

She crouched down and beckoned to Lucy with her finger. Lucy stopped and looked her up and down.

Then the black cat turned around very gracefully, facing the girl with her rear end, flicked her tail, and walked away at a leisurely pace.

The girl froze on the spot.

"Does it...do it not like me...?"

"No, no, no," Moen quickly tried to smooth things over for his cat, "She's just... a little shy."

In fact, Moen remembered very clearly that although Phils had been here before, Lucy's behavior seemed to be the same when she saw her arrive.

She might simply dislike outsiders, but he dared not tell the guests that.

The girl sighed, turned to face Moen, and gave a perfectly ladylike bow, her skirt fluttering gently.

"My apologies for not introducing myself. My name is Emily Manro, you can just call me Emily."