Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

If a person suddenly has both money and free time, what should he do?

Lyndon lay on his bed in his apartment, pondering the question.

It will take time to contact the person in Alastor. I finally managed to get a day off from Hornby, so I have to make good plans for it.

Since he transmigrated to this world, Lyndon has been dealing with corpses.

They're either collecting bodies in the East District today, or retrieving skeletons from the West District's sewers the day after tomorrow.

He didn't take a single day off for the entire month.

"Oh dear, I can't possibly spend it all in one day!"

Lyndon rolled over, a multitude of thoughts flashing through his mind.

Want to go to a pub and have a good drink?

Let's take a walk in that newly built park that's supposedly very beautiful?

Or perhaps take a horse-drawn carriage to the West River in the northwest of the foggy city and swing a couple of poles to relax?

Lyndon thought for a long time, tossing and turning in bed.

Suddenly, an idea popped into my head.

Going to the concert hall for entertainment?

The so-called concert hall is a special form of entertainment that emerged during the Victorian era.

Although it is called a concert hall, the performances inside are very diverse.

In addition to the usual musicals and dances, there are also magic, juggling, animal shows and ventriloquism from all over the world.

And the ticket price is very low, only sixpence per person to enter.

People can smoke and drink there, and chat with people they've just met.

They can watch the absurd drama performed by the actors on stage while simultaneously criticizing the ruling party and venting their dissatisfaction.

In short, it was a good place, second only to the pub in popularity among the workers.

Lyndon sat up in bed.

He felt that spending his vacation there was a very wise choice.

Lyndon left without hesitation; he put on his clothes and went downstairs.

At that moment, the landlord, Michel, was watching the carpenter repair his stairs.

"Be careful, watch your step."

Michelle was heartbroken to see Lyndon pounding on the stairs.

It felt like stepping on his feet, his hands, and his back.

"Yes, Mr. Michael."

As he passed the step the carpenter was repairing, Lyndon slowed his pace, but as he continued down, his steps quickened again.

Mihir clicked his tongue. He wanted to curse Lyndon again, just like he used to, but when he remembered that Lyndon had already paid the rent for the month, he could only swallow his words and watch Lyndon's departing figure.

Lyndon walked briskly on his way to the concert hall.

Such pleasant and relaxed moments are still too rare for Lyndon.

The concert hall Lyndon was going to was called Cambeth.

Located in the eastern part of the city, in a place called Lambeth.

Lyndon crossed a crossroads and decided to walk one more block and then hail a carriage.

This way you can save money, as well as physical effort and time.

Just as Lyndon was walking like this, suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept by.

A grain of sand got into Lyndon's eye. Lyndon stopped, rubbed his eyes, and tears streamed down his face.

He wanted to use the reflection in the shop window to pick off the grain of sand.

But just as he turned around seemingly casually, a blurry figure disappeared into the crowd.

Although the figure disappeared very quickly, Lyndon still managed to see it.

Lyndon rubbed his eyes, watching all sorts of people approach him and then move away.

"Is it an illusion?"

Lyndon finally picked out that damned grain of sand.

He frowned and flicked the sand from his fingertips.

At the same time, he comforted himself, thinking that the figure from earlier might be due to his heightened sensitivity after gaining supernatural powers.

Lyndon stood still and looked around.

He took a deep breath before turning around, deciding to ignore it.

Following Lyndon's plan, he went to the next street corner, hailed a carriage, and soon arrived at Cambeth Concert Hall.

The entrance to the concert hall was very crowded.

The crowd at the entrance was like sardines in a net, packed tightly together, with not a single gap visible.

A complex smell filled the air.

The pungent smell of burning cheap tobacco mingled with the fumes from burning kerosene lamps.

As the ladies passed by the street vendors' stalls, their cheap perfumes became tainted with the greasy smell of grilled sausages and fish and chips.

In addition, there's the smell of sweat emanating from people's armpits and the smell of oily hair.

All of this was mixed in with the damp fog.

Lyndon felt as if he wasn't walking, but being pushed forward by the flow of people.

After more than ten minutes of torture, Lyndon was finally squeezed to the ticket window.

He gripped the wooden board at the ticket window with both hands, afraid of being pushed away by the crowd.

He slapped a shilling on the table, and the ticket seller smiled and handed Lyndon the ticket and four copper coins.

Congratulations, sir.

"What are you congratulating me on?"

Just as Lyndon was about to leave, the ticket seller stopped him again and handed him a piece of paper.

"Congratulations, sir, on becoming our thirtieth and last lucky audience member today. With this ticket, you can visit the actors' dressing room backstage after intermission and after you leave the theater."

Upon hearing this, a hint of surprise flashed in Linden's eyes.

After finally getting inside, Lyndon casually found a seat and sat down.

Several men nearby were smoking pipes and discussing today's program.

"There are so many people today!"

"Everyone's here for Marina; I heard she's performing today."

"Marina? Is that the Marina who starred in 'The One I Love Isn't Here, But There'? No wonder, her voice and figure are top-notch!"

"That's right, that's right! I heard there's a lion show today!"

Lyndon overheard their conversation.

When he heard the name Marina, he couldn't help but think that Old John seemed to really like this actress.

Old John often mentioned this name to Lyndon when they were working together.

Since she's performing today and I have a ticket that lets me go backstage, Lyndon can help Old John get an autograph.

Lyndon stood up, intending to find a path in the crowd so that he could go directly backstage during intermission without having to squeeze through the crowd.

Lyndon's gaze swept across the room, and suddenly, he made eye contact with a man wearing a turtleneck.

The man glanced at Lyndon, then, as if electrocuted, abruptly turned his head away.

In such a situation, it is perfectly normal to make eye contact with a stranger, but the man's eyes revealed a look of panic.

It felt like a burglar breaking into a house and bumping right into the homeowner.

Based on the circumstances before he arrived, Lyndon suddenly felt that he was being monitored.

Lyndon's heart sank. He sat back down silently with a cold face.

The joy I had initially felt about watching the play was now completely gone.

Once most of the audience had entered, the performance began.

The performance began with a farce about the old aristocracy, followed by a group of hot dancers.

The exaggerated gestures and amusing performance drew applause and cheers from the audience.

Whistles could be heard incessantly.

Lyndon found such performances bland and uninteresting.

His mind was now filled with the figure on the street and the man from earlier.

"Are they the same person? Or are they under the same command? And who sent them?"

Lyndon remained seated until halftime, filled with questions.

Among the rising crowd, Lyndon's gaze precisely locked onto the man.

The man stood up and hurriedly left his seat.

Upon seeing this, Lyndon quickly chased after him.

The man walked backstage, looking back every few steps, as if worried that someone was following him.

If Lyndon hadn't been so agile, he would have been discovered.

Lyndon went backstage, where a large crowd had already gathered, most of them surrounding the hot dancers.

A small number of people were eyeing the free snacks and beer on the side.

The man eventually entered a room with a sign on the door that read "Acrobatic Performance".

Lyndon stood at the door, wondering what that person was doing here.

He lay prone at the doorway, eavesdropping on the sounds inside.

Unfortunately, the door was heavy, and the sounds inside were kept very low. Only a few anxious conversations could be faintly heard, but they were not clearly audible.

Lyndon wanted to hear more, but suddenly, a hand patted his shoulder.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

The backstage staff noticed Lin Deng's strange behavior and went up to ask him questions.

Linden smiled and took out the card, saying that he was just visiting backstage and was simply curious about what was behind the door.

The staff said that this is the preparation room for acrobats, and unauthorized personnel are not allowed to enter.

He urged Lyndon to hurry back to the audience, saying that the second half of the performance was about to begin.

Then you'll see acrobats on stage.

Lyndon could only nod and say he would leave immediately. As he left, he made a point of glancing at the room a few more times.

The second half of the performance has begun.

The first performance was knife throwing.

A burly juggler stood in the center of the stage, shirtless and with his face covered in bright paint.

He was showing the audience the throwing knife in his hand.

The blades clashed, producing a crisp sound.

They cut several more ribbons, proving that the knife was indeed incredibly sharp.

Next, the performer had his men bring over a huge rotating wooden target.

He tied a scantily clad woman to a wooden target.

Then they blindfolded him with a black cloth.

The juggler claimed he would perform a blindfolded knife-throwing act for the audience.

Then I heard a few whooshing sounds.

The performer threw all five throwing knives in his hand in an instant.

The throwing knife made a whistling sound as it struck the edge of the woman's body, without harming her in the slightest.

The thrilling performance drew gasps from the audience.

Thunderous applause erupted from the audience.

After the atmosphere was heated up, the artist suddenly said that he would invite a brave audience member to come on stage to help.

The news caused the audience to erupt in cheers once again.

Both men and women raised their hands, eager to experience it for themselves.

The woman on the target was taken down. She stepped off the stage, her slender fingers tracing the crowd, and finally, she pointed precisely at Lyndon in the crowd.

"This lucky (or unlucky) gentleman, please come up to the stage!"

The artist grinned, his smile appearing somewhat ferocious under the paint.

Lyndon's heart skipped a beat!

He thought it was too much of a coincidence!

Based on all the previous events, Lyndon believes this is by no means a coincidence.

Encouraged and urged on by the audience, Lyndon reluctantly walked onto the stage.

His hands and feet were tied to the cold wooden target, rendering him completely immobile.

The performer blindfolded himself and began his performance.

The first knife was thrown!

The throwing knife whistled past Lyndon's ear and embedded itself in the wooden board.

Lyndon could even hear the hum of the blade.

The second knife is thrown!

This time, the throwing knife passed right under his armpit.

The cold blade pierced Lyndon's clothes.

The third and fourth knives were thrown at the same time!

Two clanging sounds!

The throwing knives landed squarely on his inner thigh, just inches away from his genitals.

The audience was still clapping and cheering, thinking it was part of the performance.

But only Lyndon understood that this was not a performance, it was murder!

As a professional performer, every position of the throwing knife is carefully considered.

To prevent accidents, everything should be kept as far away from the human body as possible.

But this artist is different!

With each strike he threw, the blade drew ever closer to Lyndon's body.

A moment's carelessness could lead to tragedy.

The reason he dared to do this was probably because he wanted Lyndon to die on the spot.

"There's only one last strike left; this will probably be the killing blow."

Lyndon's eyes sharpened as he stared intently at the blindfolded performer.

As he prepared to throw the fifth knife, Lyndon's pupils contracted, and his mental energy instantly focused!

【Dream Weaving】!

Lyndon risks performing his secret technique in full view of everyone.

A tiny sphere of light burst forth from Lyndon's fingertip, trembling as it flew toward the artist's brow.

Just as the ball of light touched his forehead, the performer involuntarily stumbled forward, causing his wrist to lose its aim as he swung the knife.

"Pfft!"

The throwing knife slammed into the wooden board next to Lyndon's left cheek, the handle trembling violently!

The sharp knife sliced ​​through his face, leaving a burning, bloody gash!

Silence fell over the room.

The artist, shocked, removed the black cloth covering his face, shaking his head, looking completely bewildered.

Immediately, deafening applause and gasps erupted from the audience.

Everyone was stunned by the incredibly dangerous ending.

Faced with the enthusiastic audience, the performer could only manage a forced smile before signaling his assistant to remove Linden from the wooden target.

"Thank you for your courage, sir! This will surely be a very memorable experience for you!"

The artist shook hands with Lyndon, his voice hoarse.

Lyndon touched the scar on his face and gave him a cold look.

Then, he gave a meaningful smile.

"Of course, today's performance was wonderful, I'll remember it!"

After speaking, Lyndon stepped down from the stage.

……

After an afternoon of performances, the concert hall's program for the day has come to an end.

The audience left the venue reluctantly, chatting in small groups about today's program.

Lyndon didn't leave; he went backstage against the flow of the crowd.

He first went to the cleaning room, stole a cleaning uniform and changed into it, then walked to the door of that room.

Lyndon knocked on the door first, and when no one answered, he turned the handle and went inside.

The room was a bit messy, with only makeup paint and costumes for performances.

Lyndon searched inside for a while, but seeing that he hadn't found any useful clues, he was about to leave when he heard footsteps outside the door.

"Oh no, someone's coming!"

Lyndon hid in the closet, leaving only a crack, and observed the movements outside.

"Useless! You had such a good opportunity on stage! How could you miss it?"

A man pushed open the door and walked in, his face filled with anger.

Lyndon looked closely and saw that it was the same guy who had been staring at him earlier.

The performers who had just given their performance followed behind the man.

The performer, head drooping, explained to the man, "I don't know. I just dozed off and had a very short dream. I dreamt that an axe flew at me, and that's why..."

"An excuse!"

The man slammed his fist on the table, startling the artist so much that he almost shoved his head into his neck.

"You clearly didn't want to kill anyone, so you deliberately made a mistake, didn't you!"

The man grabbed the artist by the collar, his face contorted as he questioned him.

The artist hurriedly denied the allegations.

"No, I admit I was a little scared during the first few strikes, but for the last one, I really wanted to aim for his head."

Upon hearing this, a chilling glint flashed in Lyndon's eyes! His killing intent was palpable!

I finally had a rare day off and wanted to relax by watching a show, but these two guys actually tried to kill me!

In his previous life, Lyndon was a person who repaid kindness with kindness and revenge with revenge.

After coming into this world, this personality trait became even more pronounced.

"I don't care! Remember, you still owe my boss gambling debts. You lost today, and you can't escape those debts!"

"No! I can think of another way, please give me another chance! I really can't pay off that gambling debt."

The artist suddenly knelt down on the ground, grabbing the man's trouser leg with both hands and pleading desperately.

Taking advantage of the two's inattention, Lyndon once again used his secret technique.

【Dream Weaving】!

【Dream Weaving】!

Two orbs of light shot out from his fingertips.

The two who had been arguing fiercely just moments before suddenly froze and collapsed to the ground the instant they came into contact with the sphere of light.

Lyndon pushed open the wardrobe and came out.

He looked at the two people sleeping on the ground and couldn't help but snort coldly.

Lyndon piled the performance props and costumes together, then, holding an oil lamp in one hand and carrying the man on his shoulder with the other.

He poured lamp oil on the costume, then looked at the performer on the ground and said coldly:

"Don't say I didn't give you a chance, we'll see what fate has in store for you."

After saying that, Lyndon lit the costume, and flames shot up instantly, with thick smoke billowing out from under the clothes.

Lyndon closed the door, carried the man, and headed towards the exit.

Just as I reached the main entrance, I heard someone shouting behind me, "Help! Fire! Fire!"

The concert hall was thrown into chaos.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Lyndon led the man away from the scene.