Mr. Death in the Steam World

Three figures suddenly appeared at the alleyway ahead.

The leader was a burly man with broad shoulders and a thick waist, reeking of alcohol.

Behind him were two skinny, monkey-like henchmen, one carrying a half-empty bottle of cheap beer, and the other with a cigarette dangling from his lips, the smoke flickering in the night.

"Oh, whose pretty boy is this?" The burly man narrowed his eyes, his gaze sweeping over Moen before settling on Phils's face. A nauseating smile squeezed out from his fleshy features.

"How could such a beautiful girl end up with someone like this? It's like a beautiful flower stuck in cow dung."

The two henchmen behind him let out a series of strange, cacophonous laughs.

Phils's face instantly turned cold. She didn't say anything, but simply reached out and grabbed Moen's wrist, her fingertips exerting a slight force, silently signaling him to move away.

She had seen Moen fight in Wonderland and knew his temper. But this was Ironcrown City, and they had a mission to complete; there was no need to lower themselves to the level of a few drunken street thugs.

Moen, however, did not move.

"Get out of the way." His voice was calm.

"Get out of the way?" The burly man seemed to have heard the biggest joke in the world. He staggered forward two steps, his breath reeking of alcohol, almost hitting Moen in the face.

"I'm in a good mood today, so I'll give you a chance—leave this girl here and get out of here, or else—"

Before he could finish speaking, Moen's right fist had already smashed into his stomach.

With the help of "Meow's Swiftness" and the magical properties, the burly man didn't even see his movements before a churning pain shot through his abdomen.

His body was curled up like a shrimp, his mouth wide open, but he couldn't even let out a scream.

Moen gave him no chance to catch his breath, grabbing him by the back of his collar with his left hand and pressing him down, while his right knee slammed into his face.

With a sharp crack, the sound of the nose breaking was particularly jarring in the quiet alley.

The burly man fell backward onto the ground, his face covered in blood from his nose, too weak to even groan.

From the start to the end, it took no more than three breaths.

The smiles on the faces of the two henchmen froze instantly. Moen raised his eyes and swept his gaze across their faces.

He didn't even utter a word, and the two henchmen dragged the burly man away into the night at the alley entrance, not even daring to look back.

Moen looked down at his fist, then at the pool of blood on the ground, and suddenly seemed to remember something, a bitter smile appearing on his lips.

For a fleeting moment, the thought of harvesting crossed his mind.

The Death Note vibrated slightly deep within his mind, as if reminding him that the burly man had lost the ability to resist. He only needed to deliver one more blow to obtain a portion of the essence, even if the quality wasn't high.

But he eventually gave up.

This is Ironcrown City, not a wilderness or a battlefield. To kill someone in the street over a few words would not only cause a lot of trouble, but it would also be difficult to explain to Arthur.

What's more, Phils was right there beside her.

He turned around and found Phils looking at him, her deep blue eyes filled with a complex expression.

"Actually, you didn't need to use your hands." She sighed, pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to him, pointing to the bloodstains on his fist.

"Those guys are just drunk, just let them go."

Moen took the handkerchief, wiped his face casually, and said softly:

"I gained power not to swallow my pride in front of clowns."

Phils paused for a moment, then pursed her lips.

Rationally, she knew that Moen was wrong; they had a mission and should try to avoid attracting attention.

Although the commotion just now wasn't significant, it could still be a potential hazard if someone with ulterior motives saw it.

But to be honest.

She lowered her head and secretly glanced at Moen's profile out of the corner of her eye.

When he said those words, she did feel a surge of indescribable emotion.

The feeling was unfamiliar, making her feel somewhat uneasy, yet inexplicably giving her a sense of relief.

In particular, he did it for her sake.

Phils forcefully suppressed the thought, and the tips of her ears subtly blushed a light pink.

Just then, Moen's gaze suddenly passed over her and fell into the depths of the dark alley behind her.

"Come out," his voice returned to its usual calm, "You've been watching for so long, it's time to show yourself."

Phils turned around abruptly.

Deep in the alley, a figure slowly emerged from the shadows; it was a middle-aged man dressed as a butler.

He stopped three steps away from the two of them, placed his right hand on his chest, and bowed slightly.

"Please allow me to apologize for my rudeness earlier, sir and madam. I did not mean to spy on you, but it would have been inappropriate to appear so abruptly before confirming your identities."

Moen glanced at him; there was no magical energy emanating from this person, at least not without Moen activating his "Eye of Death."

But his steps were steady and his breathing even, clearly indicating that he had received professional training.

"Who are you?"

"I am the steward of the owner of the Brad Mine," the middle-aged man straightened up, "and have come to deliver something to you two and offer a few words of advice as instructed by my master."

"Brad Mine?" Phils frowned; the name sounded familiar.

"That's the small mine owner in the club who wants to go against the Ashton family," the butler added with a smile.

"Last night at the club, Mrs. Fallon's words must have spread throughout half of Ironcrown City."

"My master happened to be present as well. Although he was unable to speak with you both in person, it is true that you were inquiring about Sidwin Ashton."

Moen and Phils exchanged a glance.

Mrs. Fallon's big mouth was indeed well-deserved.

"Why is your master helping us?" Moen's tone remained wary.

"Because the enemy of my enemy is my friend," the butler said frankly.

"The Ashton family has dominated the mining industry in Ironcrown City for over a decade, and it has only gotten worse since young Master Sidwin took over."

"Last year alone, three mining areas under my master's name were forcibly sold off, and the prices were only one-third of the market value."

His tone remained respectful, but a hint of undisguised coldness flashed in his eyes.

"My master did try to resist, but the Ashton family is just too big."

"They control the mining rights, control the transportation lines of Ironcrown City, and even the city hall is their backyard. For us small mine owners, even if we unite, it's like throwing an egg against a rock."

He took out a roll of something wrapped in oilcloth from the inside pocket of his chest and presented it with both hands.

"This is a map of the underground structure of the No. 3 old mine area, including abandoned mine tunnels and ventilation shafts. As far as my master knows, all of Master Sidwin's secret activities in recent months have been taking place there."