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Detective? Alas, I am Just a Fake
Gare de l’Est, 7:15 PM

Gare de l’Est, 7:15 PM

Just as the clock struck a quarter past seven, the train at Platform 1 let out a resonant hiss that echoed through the station, and the slumbering beast of the locomotive stirred to life.

“The Orient Express to Strasbourg, Munich, Vienna, Budapest, Belgrade, and Constantinople is now departing!” the trainmaster announced, blowing his whistle in short, shrill blasts. “All aboard!”

The flurry of activity that choked the platform seemingly died down in an instant. Everyone paused in their tracks and shifted their attention to the train at the same time, holding their breaths in anticipation.

“En avant toute!” the engineer hollered, gripping the throttle firmly.

The fireman replied with a grunt as he shovelled coal after coal into the firebox, each rhythmic motion sending up showers of fiery embers that fed the blazing heart of the locomotive. A thick plume of steam puffed out from the smokestack, and with a deep chuff, the wheels began to turn and gather speed.

“Bon voyage!” someone shouted from the platform, and others soon followed suit, waving their hands and hats in the air in unison.

“See you soon!”

“Safe travels!”

The steam whistle blew, and the Orient Express was off.

[Violet’s POV]

“Take a deep breath…come on, have some faith in the famous detective…deep breaths…yes, you can do this…”

While repeatedly reassuring myself inside the cramped washroom like a madman, I turned on the tap and splashed handfuls of water onto my face. The dripping liquid left a cooling sensation on my flushed cheeks, and my shallow breaths slowly returned to normal as I looked up at the mirror again.

A pair of glistening vermilion eyes stared back at me in the reflection. Damp clumps of silver hair hung around my head like dead seaweed, and my lips hurt from biting down on them too much.

“I look like a mess now…”

Sighing heavily, I grabbed a towel from the nearby rack to wipe my face dry. The fuzzy material against my skin unexpectedly felt super soft and comfy, and I could feel every ounce of tension leave my body as I melted into its warmth.

“Yosh! There shouldn’t be any trouble happening on the train for now, so let’s enjoy the calm before the storm as much as possible!”

After taking some time to fix my appearance, I pumped myself up with confidence and exited the washroom.

“First things first, I should sort out my inventory…oops, I mean, my belongings.”

I dragged my heavy trunk to the middle of the room and opened the lid. Since Violet Guinevere was supposed to be going for a week-long trip in Constantinople, I had packed plenty of outfits—both practical dresses for the warmer Mediterranean climate and formal wear for the soon-to-be cancelled ceremony—together with my daily necessities and a few books to read on the train ride. One book in particular caught my attention, so I picked it up and set it on my lap.

The title of the familiar-looking book was「The Traveller’s Guide To Constantinople」.

“Oh right, this book is one of the collectibles that appear inside the game,” I murmured, slowly paging through its contents. “To think that I would find this inside my own luggage…”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

[Chapter 1-1: Introduction]

> Constantinople, the capital of the Otto-man Empire, is situated at the junction of the Bosporus and the Sea of Marmara, in lat. 41° 0' 16" N. and long. 28° 59' 14" E., and may be said to be composed of three different towns, viz. Stambūl, Galata-Pera, and Skutari.

>

> The two first named are on the European shore, and are divided by the Golden Horn; while Skutari lies on the Asiatic shore, and is separated from them by the Bosporus. Stambūl, or Constantinople proper, occupies the site of ancient Byzantium, and, like ancient Rome, is built on seven hills.

>

> On the first of these, on which stood the original city of Byzantium, are the Old Seraglio, the Mosque of St. Sophia, and the Hippodrome; on the second the Porphyry Column, on the site of the ancient Forum of Constantine; on the third the War Office and the Suleimanieh Mosque; on the fourth the Mehinedieh Mosque; on the fifth the Selimieh Mosque; on the sixth the ruins of the Hebdomon Palace; and on the seventh the Column of Arcadius.

>

> This picturesque city may justly boast of what no other city in the world can claim: it is situated on two different continents, Europe and Asia, and constitutes the dividing line between West and East.

[Chapter 1-2: Overview of Constantinople]

> The Government of Turkey has been, from the time of the foundation of the Otto-man Empire, an absolute monarchy, the Sultan being absolute ruler of his people and head of the Muhammadan religion. But owing to an army insurrection, and the dethronement of Sultan Abd-ul Hamid Khan II., it has been changed into a Constitutional Monarchy.

>

> It consists of the Sultan, the Grand Vizier (Prime Minister), ten Cabinet Ministers, the Senate, and the Parliament. The Sultan's accession to the throne is hereditary and goes to the eldest male of the family. The Grand Vizier and the Senators are appointed by the Sultan; the Cabinet Ministers by the Grand Vizier, and the Deputies are elected by the people, one Deputy elected for every 50,000 male inhabitants.

>

> Meanwhile, the population of Constantinople, estimated to number about 1,200,000, is a mixed one, composed chiefly of Turks, Greeks, Armenians, Levantines, and Jews. There is also a fair sprinkling of European residents connected either with their respective Embassies or Consulates, or else representing European firms.

[Chapter 1-3: Preparations to enter Constantinople]

> The author notes that all travellers visiting Constantinople, or any town in Turkey, must be provided with a passport duly visé by the Turkish Consul at the place they started from, or at the capital or outport of the country they belong to or that they have last left…

“Wait a minute, a passport?”

I blinked in surprise after reading the last paragraph. That was not something I remember being mentioned inside the game, and I honestly couldn’t recall if I had packed one with me before boarding the train.

‘Oh, shoot…where would I put something that important?’

I hastily rummaged about in my trunk until I finally spied a folded piece of paper tucked away in an inner compartment. Opening it up, I breathed a sigh of relief when my intuition proved to be right.

Mlle [Frl.] … … Violet Guinevere

Nationalité [Nationalität] … … Britannique / Brittisch

Profession [Beruf] … … Détective Privé / Privatdetektiv

Lieu d’origine [Herkunftsort]… … Paris / Paris

Destination [Bestimmungsort] … … Constantinople / Constantinopel

Modes de locomotion [Verkehrsart] … … l’Express d’Orient / Orient-Express

It looked to be somewhat barebones, but I supposed that was just the nature of passports in this world. I made sure to keep it safely back inside my trunk and glanced at my pocket watch. 7:34 PM.

‘If the order of the events in the game is correct, dinner should be served at 7:40 PM…’

Looking out of the window, I noticed that the colour of the sky had deepened into a breathtaking sunset—a fiery blend of orange and pink, with a tinge of tangerine and cassis. Apart from the constant rattle of the carriage wheels and chugging of the locomotive, the train was silent, as though every passenger had all retired for the night.

“Hmm…alright, since it’s still early to enter the dining car, let’s go explore the rest of the train first!”