Mr. Death in the Steam World

Consciousness slowly sank into the darkness, like a feather falling into deep water.

Moen dreamed of the scene from the morning.

Under the club's lights, Emily held his arm, everything seemed normal, exactly as she remembered.

But then the image suddenly froze.

The bespectacled man stood in the corner of the hall, his gaze piercing through the crowd and landing directly on them.

Suddenly, a pure white eye slowly opened in the center of the man's forehead.

Without eyelashes or eyelids, it just abruptly emerged from under the skin.

Startled, Moen suddenly opened his eyes.

The cracks in the ceiling were faintly visible in the morning light, and the sound of water running as Emily got up and washed could be heard from the next room.

He let out a long sigh, touched his back, and found only a handful of cold sweat.

He took a deep breath, got out of bed, washed up as quickly as possible, and then knocked on Arthur's door.

Ten minutes later, the four of them gathered in Moen's room.

The hazy morning light of Ironcrown City streamed through the windows, illuminating Arthur's furrowed brow.

"The mark of the Truth Society...you mean, you had a dream and saw it on that bespectacled man?"

"I'm sure." Moen leaned against the window, arms crossed. "A pure white eye, right in the center of the forehead."

"I've never seen this before, but I'm sure it's not ordinary magic residue, nor is it the effect of some magical tool."

"You haven't seen it, but you dreamed about it." Arthur stood up, paced around the room, his boots creaking on the wooden floor.

"This means that your subconscious sensed something unusual during the daytime meeting, but you weren't sure at the time, so that feeling resurfaced in the form of a dream."

He turned around, a sharp glint in his grey-green eyes.

"This is the spiritual intuition of a magician, Marcus. Trust your dreams. The Truth Society has most likely already directly intervened in Sidwin's affairs."

"Wait a minute," Fils' face was still a little pale, but much better than yesterday.

"You mean the Truth Society members have infiltrated the noble circles of Ironcrown City?"

"That's not all." Arthur walked to the table and tapped his finger on the unfolded map.

"Judging from the information in Marcus's dream, the man with glasses is very likely a core member of the Truth Society sent to assist Sidwin."

"His status is definitely not low. The pure white eye in the center of his forehead is a symbol of a high-ranking butler—that is, a high-ranking magician."

A high-ranking magician!?

The room fell into a deathly silence, and everyone felt a heavy weight in their hearts.

They were just a group of low-level magicians, averaging less than second rank. How did they get involved in such a big event?

"Why would they approach Sidwin on their own initiative?" Emily put down her comb, a hint of confusion flashing in her emerald eyes.

"Even if Sidwin is the only son of the Ashton family, an organization of the Truth Society's caliber wouldn't go to all the way to Ironcrown for a spoiled brat."

"Because of the power of the gods," Phils whispered.

Arthur nodded. "You're a candidate. They may not know your identity, but they can deduce Sidwin's situation from subtle clues."

"Since the Truth Society has appeared by his side and even sent a high-ranking deacon, it can only mean that they already know he has the qualifications to become the agent of the Vulcan and intend to use him to seize the power of the Vulcan."

"Neither possibility is good news for us. Our only advantage is that the enemy is in the open while we are in the shadows."

He paused, then changed the subject, "Also, I received a message from the church this morning."

"What news?"

"Mrs. Fallon." Arthur's expression became somewhat subtle.

"This morning, at the women's charity event in Ironcrown City, she spread the story of what happened at the club last night as an anecdote."

Emily paused for a moment. "What did she say?"

"The exact words were—'The young lady of the Manro family brought a handsome businessman from the South and inquired everywhere about the Ashton family.'" Arthur sighed.

"The wording is quite philistine."

"Her mouth is indeed big enough to fit an entire blast furnace," Emily muttered.

"That's not the point." Arthur shook his head. "The point is that, given Mrs. Fallon's social influence, this news will have spread to all the clubs and salons in Ironcrown City by this afternoon."

"If Sidwin's informants had done even a little bit of their job, he would have known tonight that someone was secretly investigating him."

"So our time is even more pressing." Moen straightened up from the window, his gaze sweeping over everyone. "We might as well strike first."

Arthur spread the map marking the boundaries of the mining area on the table.

"The club has gathered sufficient intelligence, but we lack more concrete operational details."

"How many mercenaries has Sidwin recruited? What is the origin of those men in black robes? Are there the conditions for conducting secret rituals deep within the mines? These are things you can't find out in the salons of nobles."

Fils suddenly stood up from the bedside. "There's a tavern near the mine where mercenaries gather; Mr. Marcus and I can go there to investigate."

"Your body hasn't fully recovered yet," Arthur frowned.

"But lying down won't help you recover any faster." Phils's eyes were firm.

"Moreover, if I encounter any danger, Mr. Marcus can protect me."

Moen glanced at her, said nothing, and simply nodded.

"Sure, I've been to those kinds of places when I'm on cases, so I know how to deal with mercenaries."

"Alright then," Arthur said without further hesitation, his finger quickly tracing patterns on the map.

"Manro and I split up. I went to find connections with the church to see if I could get in touch with those small mine owners who had a grudge against the Ashton family. They had been operating in the mines for decades and knew more about Sidwin's men than anyone else."

"What about me?" Emily's eyes lit up.

"Go and contact Sidwin's cousin," Arthur said. "She showed up at the club last night; the timing and location were too perfect."

"Since she came back from the next city, there must be some problem within the Ashton family that she needs to solve. You have connections in the aristocratic circle and you're a woman, so it's much easier for you to contact her than for the three of us men."

Emily blinked. "So my task is to have afternoon tea with a complete stranger, a noblewoman?"

"No, your task is to gain her trust." Arthur looked at her with unusual seriousness.

"If she's willing to talk, the information we can get will far exceed any rumor in the club. Only the Ashton family knows the inside story."

"Understood." Emily's relaxed expression vanished, and she nodded solemnly.

The four filed out and split up at the entrance of the Swallow Inn.

"Are you nervous?" Moen glanced at Phils.

"A little," Fils admitted honestly.

"Although I knew that getting involved in this kind of thing wouldn't be peaceful, I didn't expect it to happen so quickly."

"You'll get used to it," Moen said. "Every time I've known you since then, you always say 'I'm a little nervous,' but you always end up doing better than anyone else."

Phils paused for a moment, then lowered her head, her ear tips turning slightly red.

"Let's go." He quickened his pace and headed towards the tavern.