Mr. Death in the Steam World

Sure enough, Melina gritted her teeth and took his hand.

Without Moen's help, she would soon be captured by those men in black robes. She didn't even dare to imagine what kind of punishment she would receive after her third failed escape attempt.

She used Moen's hands to support herself as she stood up from the ground. Her legs were numb and weak, and she swayed a couple of times before she could barely stand.

"Can you walk?"

Melina tried to take a step, and a sharp pain shot through the soles of her feet—she had been running barefoot all night, and the soles of her feet were already blistered.

She gritted her teeth and refused to utter a sound.

Moen glanced down at her feet, thought for a moment, and then took off her coat and spread it on the ground.

"Step on it, I'll carry you."

Melina looked at the expensive-looking coat, then at Moen, her lips trembled a few times, but in the end she didn't refuse.

Moen picked her up and turned to walk towards the Swallow Inn.

……

Swallow Inn.

The landlady stood at the door, still holding a mop in her hand. When she saw Moen carrying Melina over, a rare look of heartache appeared on her usually boisterous face.

"Oh my God, what terrible things has this child done..."

She leaned the mop against the door, took a few steps to meet her, and without caring that Melina was dirty, reached out to help Moen take her off her back.

"There's an empty room upstairs. I'll go boil some hot water right now. You can put her on the bed first."

Moen nodded and carried Melina upstairs.

Phils's door was open. She stood in the doorway and saw the girl in Moen's arms. A complex light flashed in her eyes.

Moen put Melina on the bed, where Melina curled up in the blankets, clearly very sleepy.

With her eyes half-closed, she saw the mark on Phils's wrist.

"...You have one too."

Phils walked to the bedside, knelt down, and stretched out her hand to Melina.

Two flame flowers stood side by side, one blooming on the back of Phils's fair hand, and the other on Melina's dirty wrist.

"Hello, little sister, my name is Phils, and I am also a candidate."

Phils examined Melina's hand closely; the two marks looked exactly the same, without any difference.

In the dream, she thought Melina was about the same age as her, but now she realizes that Melina was just taller.

"Little girl, I've brought you something!"

It turned out that the proprietress saw how pitiful Melina was, so without saying a word she added a thick quilt and brought over a large bowl of hot soup.

Melina held the bowl of soup, the steam rising towards her face, blurring her vision.

She looked down at the few vegetable leaves floating in the bowl and a small piece of stewed meat that was tender and soft, and her throat involuntarily bobbed.

"Drink up, what are you standing there for?" The proprietress tucked her apron into her waistband, put her hands on her hips, and said, "Don't complain, this is just the standard of our little shop, but it's all you can eat."

Melina looked up at the landlady's face, which was full of concern, then turned to look at Moen standing at the door, Phils by the bed, and Arthur leaning against the door frame without saying a word.

She hadn't felt such direct kindness in a long time.

Back in the shantytowns, neighbors were barely able to take care of themselves, so giving them half a loaf of black bread was considered an immense favor.

After being locked in the stone building, the person who brought her food would slip the bowl through the crack in the door without even glancing at her.

Melina lowered her head and took small sips of her drink.

Seeing that she was willing to drink, the proprietress's expression visibly relaxed, and she turned around to bring out a plate of black bread and butter and placed it on the bedside table.

"Eat slowly, don't rush, there's more in the pot."

Melina nodded, her eyes stinging a little. After she finished eating, her complexion finally improved.

"Thank you. You want to know about me, right? But... I don't know where to begin."

"Just tell me from the beginning," Moen said calmly, pulling up a chair and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Tell me whatever comes to mind: how they took you away, where you were locked up, what they were doing."

Melina paused for a few seconds, took a deep breath, and slowly began to speak.

"About... a few months ago," she said, "that night I went out to take out the trash, and when I came back I saw a horse-drawn carriage parked outside the shantytown, and a woman in a black robe standing next to it."

"She smiled when she saw me and said, 'I've finally found you.'"

"I tried to run, but as soon as she raised her hand, it was as if I was bound by something and I couldn't move at all. Then she had someone stuff me into the carriage."

"Didn't anyone stop them?" Emily asked softly.

Melina shook her head.

"The people in the shantytown didn't dare to interfere with the mine's affairs, and... and by then I had no family left."

"My father died in the mine two years ago, and my mother didn't make it through last winter. Nobody cares where an orphan goes."

Silence fell over the room, and Phils quietly tightened her grip on her hand.

"They locked me in a stone building deep in the mine and wouldn't let me out. Every day someone would give me some food, but it was very limited."

As she said this, a self-deprecating smile appeared on her lips.

"In fact, it's better than what I used to eat; at least I have food every day."

No one was willing to respond, so Melina continued:

"One night I had a dream. In the dream there was a very large temple, made entirely of stone, with a huge fire in the very center."

"There was a person sitting in the fire—no, not a person, it was huge, bigger than the tallest building in our shantytown."

"He said many things, but I can't remember them or understand them. I only remember one sentence—'When the three of them are together, the fire will select.'"

Moen and Phils exchanged a glance.

"Have you seen that man with glasses?" Arthur suddenly asked.

Melina's body visibly trembled.

"I've seen him." Her voice lowered even further. "He only came twice, and each time he just stood at the door watching me without saying a word."

"But that look... I can't forget it. At least that woman would get angry, curse, and hit me. He had no expression at all, he just stared at me like that."

She shivered, her eyes clearly revealing a hint of fear.

"What about that woman?" Moen pressed. "How often does she come?"

"Come check this on my hand once a week." Melina touched the mark with her finger.

"This isn't the first time you've run away, is it?" Phils asked softly.

Melina nodded, a hint of stubbornness flashing in her eyes.

This is the third time.

She rolled up the sleeve of her left arm, turning the inside of her arm towards the crowd.

Phils gasped.

From wrist to elbow, a dense network of scars overlaps, some new and some old.

The most shocking thing was the dark red brand mark above her wrist, as if it had been burned by some red-hot iron. Her skin was wrinkled and black, forming a stark contrast with the pale skin around it.