Steam Old Days: The Extraordinary Begins with a Corpse Collector

Walter watched as Cyril's pupils gradually dilated and then fell silent.

He loosened his grip on the dagger, slowly stood up, his face expressionless.

Lyndon, leaning on his spear, walked over to Walter's side. He looked at Cyril's body and patted Walter on the shoulder.

"It's all over now, and it's given your brother some closure."

Walter didn't respond; he simply picked up his iron fist and put it back together.

The old port wharf was shrouded in thick fog, and the river breeze carried the smell of coal dust.

Lyndon sheathed the spear, exhausted from a night of fighting.

All he wants now is to find a place to rest.

"Lynn!"

Suddenly, a delicate voice came from afar.

As Lyndon watched the slender figure run towards him, a genuine smile finally appeared on his lips.

Giselle, still wearing the rough cloth dress she'd worn in the kitchen and shoes that were way too big for her feet, stumbled and fell into Lyndon's arms.

Giselle, who had thrown herself into Lyndon's arms, trembled all over like a startled rabbit.

She was very thin; Lyndon felt he could lift her up with one hand.

If you smell it closely, you can still smell the sour smell of kitchen dishwater in Gisele's hair.

Lyndon turned to look at Walter, mouthing the words.

"Did you bring her here?"

Walter said calmly, "She insisted on coming along."

Lyndon looked down at Giselle in his arms with a helpless expression.

Giselle clutched his blood-stained collar tightly with both hands, sobbing softly as her nails dug into the fabric.

Lyndon patted her thin back gently and comforted her, saying, "It's alright, don't cry, I'm not dead."

"I'm afraid..."

Giselle buried her face in Lyndon's clothes and sobbed as she spoke.

"Is it all over?"

On the cargo ship, the man who had been holding the gun heard that there was no more noise outside, so he cautiously poked his head out and looked around.

Seeing that the matter was indeed over, the man breathed a sigh of relief.

He put down the plank, hurried over to Lyndon, and said with a fawning expression, "You must be Mr. Lyndon!"

"it's me."

Lyndon nodded in agreement.

The man bowed deeply: "Mr. Lyndon! My name is Tom, and I am Mr. Alastor's most trusted subordinate. From now on, I will be your escort on your journey to Wiltling!"

"Shall we leave now?" Lyndon asked, watching Rodney and the other two approach.

Tom said, "No, sir. Not all passengers have arrived for this flight yet. Please wait patiently."

As they were talking, Tom pointed at the approaching carriage in the distance and shouted.

"Look! Mr. Lyndon! The rest of our men are here!"

The thick darkness was pierced by the two kerosene lamps on the carriage.

A horse-drawn carriage, freshly painted black, rolled across the stone road and came to an abrupt stop at the dock.

And the person driving the horse and holding the reins was none other than Alastor.

Alastor was dressed in a well-fitting burgundy suit with a black tie around his neck.

To Lyndon's surprise, despite the bumpy ride, Alastor's monocle didn't fall off; it remained firmly in its socket.

Alastor put down the reins, gracefully jumped off the carriage, straightened his clothes, and walked up to Lyndon.

"What a wonderful reunion, Mr. Lyndon! I'm sure you must be Ms. Giselle."

Alastor patted Giselle's head, who was nestled in Lyndon's arms, with a friendly expression, as if he were bouncing a ball.

"Alastor? What are you doing here?" Lyndon asked curiously.

Alastor nudged Lyndon in the chest with his elbow and said smugly, "I was worried you'd get bored on the road, so I decided to join your eastward journey to make sure it's fun and enjoyable."

Lyndon smiled and said, "You're so thoughtful."

"For you." Alastor blinked.

Suddenly, Alastor remembered something.

"Oh! Right, I was so busy enjoying the reunion that I forgot about someone."

As he spoke, Alastor walked over to the carriage and knocked on the side of the carriage.

"My passenger, you may exit now."

Before the words were even finished, the person inside eagerly pushed open the carriage door.

Squeak.

The door was pushed open, and a weathered old man stepped out of the car.

His gaze swept across the entire room, finally settling on Gisele.

"Giselle!"

The old man's eyes instantly filled with tears.

A hoarse shout cleaved through the mist on the shore.

Wesley's old coat was covered in mud, and his beard was stuck to his sunken cheeks with tears.

Upon hearing her father's voice, Giselle, who was hiding in Lyndon's arms, suddenly turned her head, and her pupils reflected her father's deeply lined old face.

Time paused for a moment.

That one second felt like an eternity.

Giselle could hardly believe her eyes; her lips were trembling.

Until Wesley called her name again.

"Giselle! My daughter!"

Almost instantly, Giselle left Lyndon's embrace and ran into Wesley's outstretched arms.

"dad!"

As Giselle felt her father's strong arms, she could no longer suppress the bitterness in her heart.

The father and daughter hugged each other and cried loudly.

Wesley's hand repeatedly stroked his daughter's dry, yellow hair.

Looking at the hideous scars on his daughter's face, his heart felt like it was being torn apart.

A sob that had been suppressed for many years escaped his throat: "It's Dad's fault. Dad will take you home. We won't leave. We'll go to the countryside and plant peas."

Giselle let out a wail as loud as shattered porcelain.

"What a moving scene!"

Alastor, observing the touching scene between father and daughter, casually commented.

At this moment, Rodney and the other two helped each other to their side.

Clearly, Alastor was more interested in these three.

"Hey! Rodney, Moran, and Miss Mary. We meet again."

Upon seeing that it was Alastor who had arrived, the three dared not act rashly.

Rodney bowed respectfully to Alastor and said humbly, "Mr. Alastor, I never expected to see you here again!"

Alastor smiled slightly, took a pocket watch from his pocket, and placed it in Rodney's hand.

"What's this?" Rodney asked, looking at the watch in his hand with a puzzled expression.

"Get the key back to the ledger." Alastor tapped his fingertips on the case of his pocket watch. "But the rest, you'll have to figure out yourselves. I can remind you of one thing: wind it up."

"Thank you, Mr. Alastor." Rodney accepted the watch with a troubled expression.

Walter, who had been standing to the side, spoke up: "Now that it's all over, I'll be leaving."

With that, Walter left the dock without looking back.

Seeing that some people had already left, Alastor asked Tom when they could set off.

"Mr. Alastor, it's always ready whenever you're willing!"

Alastor nodded, glancing at Lyndon. "Come on, Mr. Lyndon. We have plenty to talk about on the ship."

So he pulled Lyndon onto the ship, while Wesley followed closely behind, his arm around the sobbing Giselle.

The ship's horn boomed through the thick fog as it started up and slowly sailed away from the dock, carrying the few people already on board.

Adjust the bow to the correct direction.

Tom shouted, "The ship is setting sail!"

Oh oh oh!

The cargo ship then headed east.

Rodney, Moran, and Mary stood on the dock, watching the cargo ship recede into the distance.

"I never imagined that Lyndon would have such a close relationship with Alastor," Moran couldn't help but exclaim.

Suddenly, Moran asked a very strange question.

"So, do you think it was right or wrong of us to let that Lyndon go?"

"Why did you think of this?" Mary asked.

Moran shook her head: "I don't know either. I just have a feeling that this Lyndon guy will cause trouble in the future."

The three of them fell silent for a moment.

Finally, Rodney spoke up: "Anyway, we don't know now, and as for the future, only God knows."