"We are walking on the Bronze Avenue, overdrafting the hope of the future."
"The jungle of steel rises from the ground, where will the scattered steam flow?"
"We need a hero."
"Friends, heroes are necessary."
The students standing in the corner of the train platform held kazoos in their mouths, fighting against the power of industry amidst the roar of steam locomotive whistles.
The slightly sad poems, with their ups and downs in tone, rarely caught the hearts of travelers amidst the busyness and noise, coaxing them to obediently drop the metal coins into the round felt hats in front of the students, making a clanging sound.
"Thank you, thank you sir."
When the student saw a gold pound jumping into his hat, the smile on his face became even bigger. He saluted the rich man in front of him unhurriedly, and the cheerful tune of the kazoo floated out again.
The gentleman who had just put in a gold coin accepted the thanks calmly. He lowered the brim of his top hat and winked in an exaggerated manner.
After doing all this, he didn't stop for a long time. He just grabbed the exaggerated leather suitcase in his hand that didn't match his size and quickly left this "country" shrouded in gray steam.
"This is the best of times, this is the worst of times."
Backlund, which is in the post-industrial revolution era, is worthy of the title of "City of All Capitals". It is the center of the world, the pinnacle of glory brought about by the great changes, a paradise, a hope, a place of gold sales, and a hell.
In the light yellow mist, the gentleman carrying an exaggerated suitcase just now hailed a hired carriage, and while it was still early in the night, it staggered across the ferry bridge over the Tasok River and arrived at Baker on the left bank.
Randbridge District.
He skillfully took out a few scattered banknotes to pay for the fare from his formal pocket, and then with the help of the coachman, he carried the slightly muddy suitcase into what was known as the safest apartment hotel in the neighborhood.
"It is known as the safest apartment hotel..." Chewing on the coachman's recommendation to him, this gentleman wearing a top hat, a black double-breasted coat, a slightly mature face, and a pair of frame glasses took a moment to look at it.
Taking a look at the environment in the apartment lobby, he shook his head in disappointment, "Every time I read Backlund's newspaper before, those reporters would always attack the public security management of Backlund Bridge District and East District, and habitually turned to West Vilas.
Pressure on the field.”
"In order to persuade more supporters, they even compiled statistics on the number of burglaries reported by reporters from major newspapers when covering the dock area. They said that since the establishment of the police department, this number has skyrocketed from 72 times a year during the Sheriff's period to now.
214 times.”
"Oh, let's not mention that reporters who carry too many valuable items are like fat rabbits on the grassland in the dock area. Don't they still know the cause of the real chaos in these places?"
"Low wages have forced most workers to the brink of bankruptcy for a long time, industrial expansion has encroached on the surrounding countryside, and the recent Corn Bills..."
Thinking of this, this gentleman with obvious signs of age could not help but raise the corners of his mouth, suppressing the sneer in his heart, and faced the apartment manager at the front desk with a normal expression.
"Hello..." Aeglon Crosson took the ID handed over by the customer in front of him, glanced at the name, and asked indifferently, "Mr. Moriarty, may I ask?
Is there something I can help you with?"
Yes, the gentleman who looked like he was about thirty years old and acted like a theater actor just now was Klein, who obtained a new identity with the help of the "God of Mystery" and went by the pseudonym Sherlock Moriarty.
Having used extraordinary power to disguise himself, he moved his face unaccustomedly, moving the muscles on his face slightly, glancing sideways at the administrator's badge, and spoke with an obvious Jianhai County accent.
"Hello Mr. Aiglon, I would like to rent an independent apartment, a quieter apartment."
"Do you live alone?" The administrator, who was familiar with the business, looked at Klein and couldn't help but look behind him.
"Yes, I am a person who is addicted to academics. I have a lot of precious materials in my luggage. My daily work is also relatively private. I am not used to sharing apartments with others." Klein was not surprised by the other party's question and gestured.
He checked the exaggerated suitcase in his hand.
Before leaving Tingen, he not only bought the supplies he would need in the future, but also sneaked home and took out two large piles of historical materials that Mr. Azik's friend had sent to his home.
Aigron, who has met many types of tenants, did not delve into his desires. He just shrugged, took out an old booklet from behind the front desk, and muttered a reminder:
"Because we have almost no single apartments, so even if you rent by yourself, we will charge the full room fee. We do not accept the split rentals that are popular on the market, and we do not allow subletting."
"If you can accept it, there are a few relatively quiet rooms left, all facing the river."
By the river? Klein raised his eyebrows subtly and said with a slight smile:
"I heard that large-tonnage steam freighters often pass by on the Tasok River?"
"The information is very good." The administrator who was looking for the floor plan of the apartment responded unabashedly. He stroked the curled pages with his left hand and handed the booklet to Klein. "Those freighters will only leave at around two o'clock in the afternoon."
Nowadays, most ships are not capable of whining all day long. Even if there are steam freighters from other places entering the port, it is about the same. I think it should be easier to accept."
Klein casually pointed to an apartment room that didn't look very conspicuous, nodded slightly, and said with approval:
"It's really not a big deal."
"I think we can talk about the price."
"Okay, 9 soles a week. We only accept long-term rentals of more than half a year." Aigron, who has short flaxen hair, didn't talk nonsense and mechanically quoted the price, "12 pounds for half a year. I think this is a very reasonable price.
You chose the larger one."
"Isn't this a little expensive?"
Although as a high-income earner who once earned ten pounds a week, Klein actually does not think that twelve pounds is a lot.
If calculated based on the salary of a senior worker, his weekly salary is equivalent to about 2 pounds, which means that he only needs to spare half a pound every month to meet the annual rent, or even lower than this.
But let’s not forget that Klein has permanently lost his previous salary, and now he can only live on a savings of less than 300 pounds.
And in terms of role play, Sherlock Moriarty's identity certificate is also tied to Lundborg's student loan. As a scholar in his early thirties, his current financial situation is not well-off.
Thinking of this, the smile on Klein's face became brighter. Before the displeasure on Administrator Aiglon's face took shape, he hurriedly added:
"Ha, but the price is acceptable. It's too late today. I'm not used to the air in Backlund. I've long missed the comfortable stove and hot coffee. I think we have that here, right?"
Even if he is a "debt" scholar, he can be regarded as a highly educated person of this era and a decent person.
Master... Agron, who just saw Sherlock Moriarty's ID card and academic qualifications, rolled his eyes disdainfully, took out a brass key from the front desk behind him, and threw it to Klein.
Said less politely:
"Pay now, here is the contract, sign in the lower right corner."
Feeling the obvious impatience in the other party's words, Klein's smile dimmed slightly, and he pushed up the framed glasses on the bridge of his nose. For a moment, he seemed a little embarrassed, and his back looked very lonely.
After the ups and downs of his life, Klein had previously summed up the "clown" acting rules above the gray fog and understood its true meaning.
That is, although I can slightly predict my fate, I still feel helpless that I cannot change the tragedy. I can only cover up all the sadness, pain, confusion and depression with a smile.
Strong contrast and overestimating attempts can strengthen the feedback of this feeling. Whether it is "acting" or real, this can make the outside world feel the ridiculousness of the "clown" from the performer, thereby accelerating the potion's development.
"Digestion".
After he finished writing the last character, Klein reached into the pocket of his formal suit and took out a brand new leather armor. Feeling the feedback from the potion in his body, he pulled out a few gold pound banknotes without changing his expression.
Passed it to Aiglon.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!
After taking the banknotes, Aigron quickly counted the banknotes with fingers yellowed by smoke. He held them up to the dim light of the gas lamp and stared sharply at the clear watermarks hidden behind the portraits of the characters.
After repeating this action three or five times, he raised his head, nodded towards Klein calmly, and moved his chin behind him.
"Second floor, room 221, the one next to the fire hydrant."
Looking away from the slightly swaying banknotes, Klein lowered his hat to signal, then dragged the suitcase in his hand and walked up the stairs with some "reluctance".
Looking at the crude imitation paintings in the corridor, Klein's thoughts wandered and he recalled the content of his last conversation with "Mysterious".
"Although He did not force me to accept the help of His angels in the end, He still limited some resources and would not directly provide me with the magic potion corresponding to the 'divineer', but hoped that I would find it on my own to achieve the true goal.
Take revenge on your own."
"But the problem arises. He only told me the name of Sequence Seven of 'Soothsayer', 'Magician', but I don't even know where to find the specific formula of this potion. I can't pray to meet another secret order."
Bar."
"Now it seems that what I complained to the captain at that time has come true. The fortune teller actually ended up in the circus in the future. I shouldn't have made this joke to the captain at that time."
Already standing in front of the wooden door engraved with No. 221, the smile on Klein's face that had dimmed due to paying the room fee was bright again. He gently inserted the brass key into the lock cylinder, turned it with a squeak, and pushed the door shaft open.
It's a smooth door.
As the wooden door was fully opened, the layout of the apartment came into view.
This is a standard two-bedroom, traditional apartment with its own bathroom and kitchen. The decoration is very old-fashioned, and most of the furniture gives people a gray feel. The only advantage is that there is a small but not big living room.
Next to the stove and sofa is an easy chair that looks old but is actually very sturdy, giving people a comfortable feeling.
Klein, who had been suffering in the second-class carriage for a whole day, casually put down his luggage. Without waiting for the stove that had just been filled with coal to heat up completely, he collapsed on the easy chair next to the sofa. He covered his face with his right hand and raked it randomly.
He directly took off the black frame glasses and a piece of translucent human skin from his face.
The translucent human skin shone with a dark purple flowing brilliance. The wrinkles on the surface of the skin gradually became dull, and the texture of the entire face was unknowingly stained with a hint of gray, giving people an inorganic feeling.
Like a crude imitation from a cosmetics studio.
"Secret" said that this was a gift for him to forge identity documents. It is a magical item that can change the user's face in a small area. If we look at it by the standards of the church, it is roughly what the "Steam Church" is best at. It has time limits and side effects.
The kind that can be ignored.
The face that Klein used when communicating with the apartment manager Aiglon just now was also disguised by this item. It was essentially an aging treatment of his facial skin, removing the bookish air that had very personal characteristics and replacing it with a more complex one.
The sense of maturity brought by the high hairline and deep ice-blue eyes perfectly fits the character of Sherlock Moriarty, a master's degree student from Lemberg University.
"I am still influenced by the captain. When I adjust my appearance, when I think of maturity and reliability, I refer to the captain's appearance. I shouldn't even learn about my hairline..."
Klein, who hadn't had dinner yet and was very tired, pressed his temples. After lingering on the easy chair for a while, he jumped up and put on the human skin mask that no longer had any extraordinary color.
.
In the reflection of the window, I saw the translucent mask slowly squirming, and the dark purple flowing light reappeared, carefully sweeping every corner of my face, and even my appearance turned into Charlotte...
After seeing Moriarty's appearance, Klein breathed a sigh of relief, put away the key, and walked towards the door.
In fact, on Gray Mist, after his questioning, "Secret" revealed that the ability of the item lent to him for disguise came from a certain sequence of "Soothsayer", and then combined with the process of changing the appearance just now, Ke
Lane inevitably fantasized about the capabilities of that sequence known as "The Faceless Man."
I don't know whether "Faceless Man" is Sequence 5 or Sequence 6. This is simply an artifact for "black households" like me, and as a complete sequence ability, its disguise strength must be several times higher than this mask.
At this level, it should be possible to perform more complex operations.
I really want to know how it was achieved... After several turns, Klein stepped down the last staircase. When he saw Aegron Crosone still sitting at the front desk, he was inspired, readjusted his expression, and spoke in a pretentious tone.
He asked hesitantly:
"Mr. Aiglon, do you know of a suitable restaurant near here?"
"It's so late today that I can't even prepare myself dinner."
It seemed that he was interrupted while reading the newspaper. The gentleman, who had always seemed a little cold, looked even colder. He slowly put the newspaper down and uttered a few words with difficulty:
“My suggestion would be Joe Wood District.”
The newspaper in this gentleman's hand is open, and the large bold characters on it are very eye-catching, occupying almost half of the page.
"The fourth incident, the rotting male corpse reappeared near the nightclub in the Backlund Bridge area!"
"Shocked. After half a month, the Crazy Ripper appears again. Where will the public security in the East District go?"