Mr. Death in the Steam World

"Miss Manro," she closed her fan, nodded to Emily, but her gaze remained fixed on Moen.

"It's been a long time. The last time I saw you was during the social season last autumn. And this gentleman is...?"

"My distant cousin, Mohn." Emily's tone had become gentle and refined, even her smile was completely different from usual.

"He just came from the south and wants to do some business in Iron Crown City. I brought him here to familiarize him with the local community."

As she spoke, she tightened her grip on Moen's arm slightly, as if reminding him to cooperate.

Moen immediately understood, gave Mrs. Fallon a slight bow, and offered a perfectly timed smile.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Madam."

"Oh my, from the South." Mrs. Fallon's eyes brightened. "No wonder you looked unfamiliar, Mr. Mohn. What kind of business do you run?"

"Chemical reagents," Moen replied without batting an eye, revealing his expertise.

Although he's a detective, his pharmacy degree is genuine...

Although he has not graduated yet.

"That's a good profession." Mrs. Fallon tapped her chin lightly with her fan.

"By the way, Miss Manro, you've come at the perfect time. Little Sidwin of the Ashton family is also here tonight."

"He's really riding high lately. I heard he's expanded two more mines. If you want to do business, you might as well go and give him a heads-up."

"Mr. Ashton is here too?" Emily raised an eyebrow, a hint of interest in her voice.

"Then we should definitely go and say hello."

Mrs. Fallon gestured with her fan towards the depths of the hall, gave Moen a meaningful look, and then turned back to her own little circle.

Once she was out of sight, Emily's gentle smile vanished, replaced by the sly expression that Moen was familiar with.

"Mrs. Fallon, the sister-in-law of the local chamber of commerce's vice president, whose husband is a fallen nobleman with only a title," she whispered in Moen's ear.

"He controls the intelligence network of all social circles in Ironcrown City, but his mouth is big enough to fit an entire blast furnace."

"I just chatted with her for three minutes. Tomorrow, everyone in the club will know you're my distant cousin—so from now on, you're my distant cousin, remember that."

Moen nodded, then glanced at her again.

"You just said—'The last time I saw you was during last fall's social season'?"

"uh-huh."

"Are you very familiar with these people?"

"I wouldn't say we're very close," Emily said, taking a sip of her champagne and scanning the crowd in the hall over the rim of her glass.

"I've only met these people a few times before."

We've met a few times.

Moen didn't press for details, but he knew very well that Emily had just spoken of Mrs. Fallon's background in great detail, including that her husband was a fallen nobleman and that she herself was the vice president's sister-in-law.

This is definitely not the amount of information that can be obtained from "meeting a few times".

Just as he had noticed long ago, the mystery surrounding this young lady was far greater than the unfinished files in Arthur's office.

But now is not the time to dwell on these things.

Emily had already taken his arm and was leading him deeper into the hall.

Her steps were calm and graceful, and as she passed by each person, she would lean close to Moen's ear and whisper their identity.

"The guy over there in the dark blue coat is the owner of the second largest coal mine in Ironcrown City."

"He just lost a mining rights contest with the Ashton family last month, and is now secretly contacting other small mine owners to form an alliance against Ashton."

"The bald man in the corner is the city hall's confidential secretary. He received a lot of benefits from the Ashton family, and he was the one who arranged the ore transportation permit for Sidwin."

"And that blonde woman surrounded by several ladies, she's Sidwin's cousin. She married into the Steel family in the next city and rarely comes back. Her sudden appearance here today must mean something."

As Moen listened, he silently took notes, while mentally reassessing the group's intelligence capabilities.

While Phils was still waiting for news at the hotel, Emily, on the other hand, was able to uncover every detail of Ironcrown City's social circles all by herself.

As Emily walked, she suddenly stopped.

She turned to the side, and as she raised her wine glass, gestured with her chin toward a sofa at the back of the hall.

"Look over there."

Moen followed her gaze.

Three people were sitting on the sofa. On the left was a middle-aged man in a dark red military-style dress. He was burly with a face full of fat and was talking animatedly.

On the right was a thin man wearing gold-rimmed glasses, holding a glass of whiskey, his expression indifferent. Sitting between them was a young man who looked to be no more than twenty years old.

He was handsome, with regular features and fair skin, but his eyes held an undisguised arrogance, as if everyone in the hall was nothing more than ants under his feet.

He was wearing an exquisitely tailored tuxedo with a flame-shaped ruby ​​brooch at the collar. One hand was casually resting on the back of the sofa, while the other held a glass of red wine, the liquid swirling slowly in the glass.

Sidwin Ashton.

"Watch the people around him," Emily whispered in his ear.

"The one on the left is his father's deputy, in charge of security in the mining area. The one on the right—the one with glasses—I don't recognize."

Moen's gaze lingered on the man with glasses for a moment.

"He doesn't look like a local."

Just then, the man with glasses suddenly turned his head and looked directly in their direction.

Emily turned and took another glass of champagne from the waiter's tray, while Moen turned slightly to the side, blocking the other's view with his body.

A few seconds later, the discomfort of being stared at finally dissipated.

"That person is not simple," Moen said in a low voice.

"Hmm." Emily placed the empty glass back on the tray, her smile fading. "Sidwin has never had anyone like this before."

For the next hour, the two moved around the lobby, exchanging pleasantries and conversations with different people.

Emily perfectly embodied the image of a gentle young lady, finding the right topic in every group of people without hesitation, laughing when she should laugh, expressing surprise when she should express surprise, and never hesitating to cover her mouth with a fan when necessary.

Moen, on the other hand, showed amazing talent in playing the role of "a distant cousin from the South".

He spoke very little, smiled just right, and behaved with propriety and without being ostentatious. Occasionally, when asked about his chemical pharmaceutical business, he could easily gloss over the question with a few professional terms.

At the bar, Emily extracted an important piece of information from a middle-aged gentleman who was half-drunk.