Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

"Young man, sew it tighter, or it will tear."

Lyndon knelt on the ground, his fingertips twisting the needle and thread as he carefully sewed up the opening of the sack containing the corpse.

In my mind, the level of proficiency was constantly increasing.

Although Hornby gave Lyndon a task, he still didn't know where in the new town he was supposed to go, so Lyndon and Old John took on the job together.

While making money, you can also increase your skill level.

Go into an alley and drag away the body of a drunkard.

After the burlap sack was sewn up, the two men worked together to lift it onto the carriage.

"Phew! Finally, it's over!"

Old John sat in the driver's seat of the carriage, took the reins with one hand, and with the other hand pulled out the polished tin flask from his pocket, taking an eager gulp.

"Don't drink and drive."

Lyndon sat in the carriage, glanced at old John, and spoke.

"It's alright, I'm a great driver! None of those coachmen are as good as me! Giddy up!"

Old John yanked the reins, and the old horse reluctantly started moving, slowly pulling the heavy carriage away from the alley.

On the way, old John asked:

"So, the boss really promised you a one-gold pound bonus?"

"Um."

Lyndon stared at the sack opposite him and responded.

"She's really educated, that's why she's so lucky."

Old John took another sip of his drink, his tone filled with envy and jealousy.

One gold pound per mission is a dream job for low-level corpse collectors like them.

But Lyndon didn't think so. After all, paying one gold pound for each corpse collection seemed absurd no matter how you looked at it.

He just couldn't figure out what the problem was; he always felt that this task wasn't that simple.

"But young man, listen to me. Those old men in the new district are not to be trifled with. Be careful in everything you do, or you might offend someone unintentionally."

Old John pursed his lips and gave Lyndon a couple of reminders.

The two drove the carriage slowly along the streets filled with the smell of coal smoke and grease.

After taking the body to the nearby parish morgue, they rushed back to the company.

Back at the company, before the carriage had even come to a complete stop, Hornby's secretary came out.

She walked to the side of the carriage and handed a note to Lyndon, who was sitting inside.

"Lydon Copperfield, this is the address you need to go to. As for the carriage, the boss has already prepared it. Be there at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, don't be late."

Lyndon took the note and nodded.

After saying that, the secretary tossed her hair and walked gracefully back to the company.

"It's so cold." Old John pointed to his secretary's back. "I really don't know where the boss hired her; she barely says a few words all day."

Lyndon ignored old John's complaints and looked down at the note in his hand.

The handwriting on it is very neat and beautiful.

"New Town, 17 Rose Street, Wendell Phoenix."

Lyndon had heard of Phoenix before.

It is a prestigious family involved in shipping and textiles.

It seems that a member of this family has passed away.

……

The next morning, at exactly nine o'clock.

Lyndon stood at the street corner, carrying his bag, waiting for the carriage.

Because he was helping a famous family collect corpses, Lyndon even wore a pair of leather shoes he had bought in college.

A few minutes after nine o'clock, a gleaming black four-wheeled carriage drove up.

The coachman was dressed in a crisp uniform, wearing white gloves, and had a blank expression.

"Mr. Lyndon Copperfield?" the coachman asked.

"That's right."

"Please get in the car."

Lyndon opened the car door and got in.

Without another word, the driver flicked the reins and sped off towards the new city district.

The carriage crossed the bridge over the Thames, leaving the hustle and bustle of the old town behind.

The stone-paved road gradually widened, and the pungent smell of coal smoke in the air was not as strong as in the old town.

Instead, it has a subtle, pleasant fragrance.

The pedestrians' clothes have become bright and clean, unlike the drab clothes of the old city dwellers, and even their steps are more relaxed.

Lyndon leaned back in the soft carriage seat, gazing at the scenery outside, his fingertips fiddled with his cloth bag.

After traveling for another ten minutes or so, the carriage finally stopped in front of a mansion.

"Mr. Lyndon, we've arrived at our destination."

The coachman turned around and said.

Lyndon got out of the car with his bag and looked up at the mansion in front of him.

This is a typical Georgian-style house.

The exterior walls are off-white, the fences are black cast iron, and there is a garden full of flowers.

A maid was pruning the branches and leaves in the garden.

Seeing someone standing at the door, he dropped the scissors and jogged over.

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

"My name is Lyndon, and I'm a corpse collector," Lyndon introduced himself.

Upon hearing this, the maid had an expression that said, "I understand now."

"I understand. It must be Madam who called you. Finally, someone is willing to come. Wait a moment, I'll go and tell Madam."

After saying that, the maid skipped and ran towards the house, her movements as light as a bird.

Lyndon stood there, stunned. He seemed to have just heard some important information.

What does it mean when someone is finally willing to come?

Lyndon suddenly felt like he had been tricked.

He wanted to run away.

After the maid went in to announce her arrival, a beautiful young woman wearing a black crepe dress quickly emerged from the mansion.

The woman walked hurriedly, her waist swaying.

She wore a small black hat, and her face was covered by a heavy black veil.

Upon seeing her attire, Lyndon immediately realized that the deceased must be this lady's husband.

"Excuse me, are you the person who came to collect my husband's body for his funeral?"

The woman's voice was fragile, with a noticeable tremor.

"Yes, madam, please accept my condolences."

Out of respect for the deceased, Lyndon solemnly bowed to Mrs. Phoenix.

Although Lyndon couldn't see her face through the black veil, he could still sense her fatigue and anxiety.

"Please come in, let's talk inside. I've already had the servants make tea."

The woman reached under her black veil with a handkerchief to wipe away her tears, then beckoned Lyndon into the house.

Upon entering the house, one finds it to be extremely luxurious.

The gleaming marble reflected the light from the crystal chandelier.

Exquisite oil paintings filled the blank spaces on the wall.

The servants in the house carefully cleaned every corner of the house.

But Lyndon frowned.

The effect of [Overclocking Senses] made him smell a nauseating rotten odor.

The smell was even worse than the stench of dismembered remains in the sewers.

"Please have some tea."

Exquisite tea sets were set out on the small table.

The black tea in the cup emitted wisps of steam.

"Madam, please forgive me, but may I ask when your husband passed away?"

Lyndon took a sip of tea and asked.

Perhaps because of its own nature, the stench was truly unbearable.

Based on what the maid had said earlier, he suspected that the body had been left for too long.

Upon hearing this, the woman burst into tears again.

"My husband was out on business, but he got into a nightmare. He had nightmares for days on end, and three days ago he couldn't take it anymore and died. He was only in his forties! Because it was a nightmare, no one else dared to prepare his body for burial. Thank goodness you came!"

pat!

The teacup in Lyndon's hand fell, and the scalding black tea spilled onto the expensive carpet at his feet.

His pupils trembled, and his fingers shook.

nightmare!

Isn't that a different species?

Damn! This unscrupulous boss is scamming people!

"What's wrong with you?"

Seeing that Linden's face was pale, the woman hurriedly showed concern.

Linden was about to use feeling unwell as an excuse to run away first.

But suddenly a girl's voice rang out from behind him.

"Mom? And who is this?"

"Huh, why does this look so familiar?"

"Who are you? Lyndon?"