Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

A gust of wind blew by, ruffling the tips of Hughes's hair, the silver strands fluttering in the wind.

His lips curled slightly, his sapphire-like pupils shone brightly, and his eyes held an unfathomable depth.

Hughes leaned forward slightly and extended his hand to Lyndon in an inviting gesture.

Lyndon looked at Hughes with a hint of doubt, somewhat unable to understand the man's behavior.

In his presence, I felt like a naive child.

"If I refuse, will you have me arrested?" Lyndon said.

Hughes nodded first, then shook his head.

"What do you mean by that?" Lyndon asked, puzzled.

"I mean maybe, it depends on my plans."

After Hughes finished speaking, he straightened up and placed his outstretched hand on Lyndon's shoulder.

"So, would you like to go grab a coffee with me?"

Lyndon paused for a moment, then said with a hint of helplessness, "I know a good coffee shop."

Hughes happily put his arm around Lyndon's neck and shoved Lyndon toward the coffee shop he had mentioned.

Along the way, Lyndon tried to get close to Hughes and try to get some information out of him.

But Hughes kept giving irrelevant answers, telling Lyndon how many more battleships the Empire had launched, how far they had gone on ocean trade, and what strange things the professors at the university had invented.

Even when the two arrived at the coffee shop, Hughes was focused on explaining to Lyndon the different characteristics of each type of coffee.

They didn't mention Phoenix or the potion again, as if the two of them had really come here just to have afternoon tea.

Lyndon got tired of hearing it.

He pressed down on Hughes's constantly moving mouth and asked impatiently, "I said, Mr. Hughes, stop with the nonsense and just say what you want to say."

Hughes removed Lyndon's hand from his lips.

Just as Hughes was about to speak, the waiter brought over the apple rolls he had ordered.

"Sir, here is your apple roll. Please enjoy."

Hughes fell silent again. He picked up his fork, cut a piece of apple roll from his plate, and put it in his mouth.

The crispy pastry crunched in his mouth.

Hughes looked completely captivated. He took a sip of his coffee and then said leisurely, "I've come to love this apple roll. It's sweet and sour inside, and if you savor it carefully, you can also taste the aroma of lemon and whiskey. It's very complex."

"Did you know? The best way to eat it is with some whipped cream or a scoop of ice cream. That's the most authentic way to eat an apple roll."

Lyndon felt a sense of unease as he looked at Hughes's affected expression.

In his mind, drinking coffee and eating snacks is no different from drinking water and eating food.

It is the upper class who presumptuously set all sorts of rules.

Lyndon ordered a glass of ice water.

He urged Hughes to quickly state his reason for seeking him out.

Hughes chuckled as he put a piece of apple roll into his mouth. Pointing at Lyndon's chest with his fork, he said, "You're being a bit impulsive. This isn't a good habit, and it will get you into trouble later."

Hughes picked up a napkin and wiped his mouth, then wiped the smile off his face.

"You've become a superhuman now, right? And the rarest kind, the mental superhuman."

Lyndon was taken aback by Hughes's sudden question. His water glass paused, and a little ice water trickled down his chin.

"Although extraordinary people and ordinary people may not appear to be different on the surface, their inner nature is completely different."

Hughes suddenly reached out and grabbed Lyndon's hand.

Lyndon was wiping his chin with a napkin when he let Hughes pull his hand in front of him.

Hughes placed two fingers on Lyndon's wrist, his lips moving.

A flash of light suddenly appeared where the two made contact.

A point of light actually flowed along Lyndon's blood vessels to other parts of his body.

Hughes looked at the direction the light was moving, smiled slightly, and released his hand: "See? It's that simple to find out if someone is a superhuman. This method never fails."

Lyndon withdrew his hand and looked at his wrist in surprise.

"So you awakened your extraordinary abilities in Phoenix, right?"

Hughes forked the last small piece of apple roll from his plate and put it in his mouth, chewing it carefully.

After swallowing the apple roll in his mouth, Hughes took a sip of coffee.

A bitter taste spread through his mouth. He put down his coffee cup and rested his chin on his hands.

"It's a problem for an ordinary person to survive in a dream, let alone wake up faster than me and White. If you say you're not a superhuman, even the boy selling newspapers on the street probably wouldn't believe you."

Hughes turned his head and pointed with his chin at the boy selling newspapers on the street outside the shop.

Upon hearing this, Lyndon gripped the cup even tighter.

He countered, "What else do you know?"

Lyndon seemed to have asked a good question, and Hughes began to recount Lyndon's secrets with great interest.

"I also know that you acquired two pairs of fangs a few days ago and sold them to the shop you went to today. The shop owner's name is Alastor, right?"

"I also know that you went to the concert hall today, and when you left, the concert hall was on fire. You even carried someone out."

"You're following me!" Lyndon roared.

At first, he thought the person following him on the road was that man, but now it seems that it should be Hughes in front of him!

Hughes shrugged, looking completely indifferent.

That arrogant expression made Lyndon feel like he was hitting a piece of cotton.

He felt as if he had no secrets from Hughes.

"That's why I'm talking to you today, I want to hear your firsthand account of what happened in Phoenix that day."

Hughes paused, his gaze settling on Lyndon's face.

Lyndon looked dejected. He lowered his head and said in a low voice, "The thing is, I broke the ritual and stole the potion. What else is there to say?"

Hughes sighed upon hearing this.

Even now, Lyndon is still trying to avoid the issue of him taking Nightmare away.

He simply admitted that he had broken the ritual and stolen the potion.

If Hughes really came to him for such a trivial matter, he might as well have the police arrest him and send him to jail.

"Mr. Lyndon never tells the truth."

However, Hughes did not develop a dislike for Lyndon because of this.

On the contrary, he appreciated Lyndon's performance; such caution was necessary when dealing with someone who was neither friend nor foe.

If he were in Lyndon's situation, he would probably lie far more than Lyndon did.

"However, I understand Mr. Lyndon's thoughts," Hughes said with a smile.

"So I'll ask you a different question: Have you ever had an organ transplant?"

Organ transplant surgery?

Lyndon had heard this term many times in his previous life. It usually refers to patients whose organs are failing or deteriorating, and who choose to have an organ transplant in order to survive and maintain their lives.

But after being transported to this world, Lyndon never heard of it again.

Why is Hughes asking this?

The key question is, is the world's medical level already this high?

In response to Hughes's question, Lyndon finally nodded.

"So it seems you've already reached the level of alchemy."

Hughes called over the waiter and said to bring another one, just as he had requested.

"Alchemy? What's that?"

Lyndon frowned and asked in confusion.

"Don't you know?"

Hughes was stunned. If Lyndon had never heard of alchemy, how did he come into contact with organ transplantation?

Seeing Lyndon's bewildered look, Hughes had no choice but to teach him about alchemy.

"Alchemy is a profound, rigorous, and wide-ranging discipline, encompassing fields such as potion-making, steam mechanics, religious theology, and medicine."

"The alchemists worship the Mother of All Sources, an ancient deity, and they follow a path completely opposite to that of the Church."

"The Mother of All Sources?"

Lyndon muttered the name to himself, vaguely remembering that it was one of the six great gods.

A mother goddess symbolizing eternity, representing the birth and destruction of all things.

“That’s right.” Hughes nodded. “Alchemists believe that the entire world we live in originated from chaos. Whether it’s humans, animals, plants, or alien species, they are all decompositions, fusions, and reconstructions of this chaotic substance. Therefore, they are all essentially the same.”

Hughes paused for a moment, letting Lyndon process what he had just said.

"So, according to what you're saying, what does this have to do with what happened in Phoenix?"

Lyndon placed the empty glass upside down on the table and raised his question.

Hughes replied, "Because alchemists believe that the essence of all things is the same, they believe that only by combining different substances and energies together, and allowing them to coexist in a powerful body, can the greatest life be created."

"So the alchemists developed an extremely evil path, which is what I just mentioned: organ transplantation."

Lyndon's breath hitched slightly as a terrifying thought popped into his head. He lowered his voice, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth.

"You mean they transplant organs from a different species into human bodies?"

Hughes did not answer Lyndon's question, but Lyndon had already gotten the answer from his eyes.

"So that means the so-called Witchers are just ordinary people who have undergone transplant surgery?" Lyndon pressed.

"That's right. Ordinary people don't have organs in their bodies that can digest spiritual energy, but aliens are different. Every inch of their flesh and blood contains spiritual energy. Therefore, alchemists use this method to transplant alien organs into the human body, allowing the alien organs to help people digest spiritual energy in order to achieve extraordinary goals."

At this moment, Hughes leaned forward slightly, his eyes carrying a warning.

"However, this method also has significant side effects, the most fatal of which is postoperative rejection. Almost all people who undergo this surgery die within 48 hours."

"Those who survived by sheer luck could temporarily gain power by taking potions, but none of them ended up well."

As he said this, a hint of melancholy flashed in Hughes's eyes.

The waiter finally placed a new apple roll in front of Hughes.

Hughes didn't eat it; he just poked at the apple roll with his fork.

Lyndon was also affected by Hughes's mood and couldn't help but become depressed.

"So when you ask me if I've come into contact with alchemy, are you worried that I've gone astray and needlessly lost my life?"

Lyndon asked Hughes.

Hearing this, Hughes raised his head, his expression complex.

"puff!"

Suddenly, Hughes covered his mouth, closed his eyes tightly, and struggled to suppress his laughter.

"Ha ha ha ha!"

Finally, Hughes couldn't hold back any longer. He was amused by Lyndon's words and burst into laughter, even laughing until tears streamed down his face.

"How could you be so naive! I'm worried about you guys! Hahaha!"

Hughes laughed wildly, shattering the previous somber and melancholic atmosphere.

"What do I care if they live or die? How many people die in this city every day? As a corpse collector, don't you know that? Hahaha, I remember when the steam engines first came to the factory, there were so many unemployed people on the streets."

Lyndon's face turned pale instantly, then quickly turned bright red.

He had originally thought that Hughes was a refined gentleman, but he never expected him to be such a hypocrite!

In his eyes, the people at the bottom of this city were like ants.

At that moment, Hughes was telling Lyndon the stories of those countless family tragedies as a joke.

"You know what? If it weren't for research, I wouldn't want to run around all that and put on a smiling face."

Hughes smugly put a piece of apple roll into his mouth and chewed it heartily.

Lyndon found Hughes's face utterly repulsive at that moment. He barely suppressed the urge to shove the glass in front of him down his throat and demanded sharply:

"If that's the case, what's there to talk about between us!"

Hughes wiped away the tears from the corners of his eyes, his voice tinged with barely suppressed laughter: "Of course, it's for research."

"The alchemy school has spent centuries splitting souls and guiding mutations, yet they have never been able to overcome the challenge of fusing spiritual beings with the human body. And now, a living example is right before my eyes. How can I not be tempted?"

Hughes spread his arms wide, looking at Lyndon with a frenzied expression, as if he were facing not a person but a statue.

"I realized this the moment I left Phoenix, so I investigated you, studied you, and wondered what kind of position I would be elevated if I could replicate your miracles!"

Lyndon's palms were sweating, and he could no longer suppress his emotions.

He suddenly stood up, even knocking over the chair behind him.

Lyndon drew his revolver and aimed it at Hughes.

When the people around saw Lyndon pull out his gun, screams immediately erupted.

The store was in complete chaos.

"You're a complete lunatic!" Lyndon said bitterly.

"I'm not crazy, I just really want to solve this problem, I really want to!"

Facing the dark muzzle of the gun, Hughes showed no fear. He stood up and gripped the cold barrel.

"Lydon, we can work together."

"I know about your deal with Alastor, and I can offer you protection. I know you have a bounty on your head, and I can help you get rid of that trash. I know you crave power, and I can help you learn more about the extraordinary."

"As long as..." Hughes pointed the gun at his forehead, "as long as you follow me and let me complete this research, I will grant you any request you may make in the meantime."

Faced with Hughes's relentless pressure, Lyndon couldn't help but take a step back.

Lyndon's breathing became rapid, and his hand holding the gun even trembled slightly.

"I should kill you."

Hughes chuckled.

"If you kill me, what will happen to your parents' deaths?"