Chapter 3: Report 1
~Market stalls, and town hall calls,
Past city walls, where history falls.
In the heart of Veronaire, where the ordinary meet,
Life and tales of old entwine, every face you greet.
Puff.
I suddenly lifted my head, exhaling a plume from the cigar. This man certainly had an affinity for cigars, evident from the numerous metal cases, each housing twenty or more premium cigars.
In fact, every one of his coats contained a metal case and a lighter. While I personally wasn't fond of cigars, I had indulged in them occasionally to unwind.
Puff~
Cats that slink in alleyways, dogs that bark at passing carts,
Each a player on the stage, each with their own parts.
You, with eyes of stories vast, walk amidst them all,
Capturing fleeting moments, of summer, spring, and fall.
"Fresh fish soup! Fresh fish soup! 3 pennies per bowl!"
"Fresh chicken fry! Fresh chicken fry! 5 pennies apiece!"
"Hot and spicy vegetable chop! 7 pennies a plate!"
Navigating a narrow pathway, I found myself flanked by market stalls on either side. While some vendors showcased fresh produce, others peddled prepared dishes. A few stalls offered tools like cleavers, knives, and pickaxes. The crowded atmosphere lent the city a somewhat stifling ambiance.
Street musicians were a common sight, many belting out the popular tune "Whispers Veronair."
Priests, too, made their presence felt, sermonizing to anyone who would listen. Their robes and the tomes they held suggested deep knowledge, yet some only donned these garments to deceive the gullible, convincing them they were purchasing divinely blessed items.
Many of these priests were followers of The Eternal, the deity reigning over The Sun.
With another drag from my cigar, I veered into a different street. This lane appeared more orderly and tidier, with sturdier structures serving as storefronts.
'Hmm, much better.' I thought as I surveyed the area. I found myself on Damascus Street. While this era had vibes akin to the Victorian period, complete with its bustling crowds and an overarching steampunk atmosphere, it also boasted its own unique charm.
Thanks to the infusion of magic and advancements in research, hygiene standards, and the medical field had seen vast improvements.
To say I was content with the cleanliness and ambiance of this street wouldn't be an overstatement.
Fuuuu!
Huh?!
I was caught off guard when a vivid red light flashed before me, causing me to lose balance and tumble to the ground. Shifting my gaze, I noticed a shop resembling a garage to my left. From it, fiery flares had erupted. I take back my compliments!
Being a city known for its prowess in brass and iron production, sights like this were probably commonplace. The other pedestrians on the street either glanced at me with amusement or sneered.
Sighing, I admitted internally that this wasn't something I was accustomed to. Additionally, syncing with this body's muscle memory was still a challenge.
How did this man manage to maintain such a lean build? Luckily, the muscle memory gap wasn't too significant, and I believed I could get the hang of it within a week of effort. But apart from those abs, our physical similarities were astonishing. Terrifyingly so.
Brushing off the recent incident, I rose, entirely unembarrassed. I even met the gazes of some bystanders as if to challenge, 'What's the issue?'
Ignoring them, I moved my steps in a casual manner. Continuing on my path, I soon arrived at my intended destination. The shop's vintage sign overhead read, "Whispering Pages."
A solitary bench awaited outside the establishment. Next to the door, a chalkboard was propped up on an easel, detailing the rules for patrons within the store.
Since finding myself in this world, I had resolved to make it my temporary abode. To explore intriguing methods that might augment my magical prowess and familiarize myself with this new realm, I had to engage with its inhabitants and adapt their ways.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
However, my visit to this particular store was driven by a more pressing reason. For any of my aspirations to materialize, I had to first navigate the events of the initial volume.
The ending of the book remained a mystery to me. The unknown is a common human fear, one I wasn't exempt from. And the unsettling fact remained: Alister Klemort met his end in the first volume.
Indeed, the tragedy that transpired in the first volume was an enigma; the identities of those responsible were still concealed. For any chance of survival, preparations were essential.
Luckily, there were still fifteen days before the central plot was set into motion. But, when seen from another angle, it was alarming. Only fifteen days remained! A mere fifteen days!
My mission was twofold: identify the brains behind the impending disaster and brace myself to make it through this volume unscathed.
I let out a heavy sigh. The date was February 21. If only my transition to this realm had happened a month earlier, I could have easily left this city and started a peaceful life.
‘Well...’ My eyes became sharp as I looked at the entrance of the store.
I'm not Detective Holmes or any other detective, my lazy ass doesn't even come close to 1 percent of their big brains, no harm in saying, but... the Investigation begins!
...
Chuchuk! Chuchuk! Chuchuk!
Quuueeeeiiiiii!
Despite serving as one of the most prominent modes of transport, the steam train did produce a cacophony of sounds, a sentiment many shared, particularly those in the first-class compartments.
Knock! Knock!
"Come in," a calm voice responded, its clarity surprisingly distinct amidst the train's ruckus.
The door to the first-class compartment gradually opened, revealing an attendant in uniform holding a food tray. He positioned a posh-looking plate with a glass lid on the table by the window.
As he lifted the glass lid, he mentioned, "Sir, here's your desi chicken." Swiftly following that, he presented a thick letter envelope, indicating the numerous sheets it might contain.
After placing the envelope beside the plate of desi chicken, the attendant headed towards the door, stepping out and closing it behind him. Inside, a man in his mid-forties, with a few strands of white hair, sat comfortably. His sharp blue eyes exuded calmness, and skin-tight gloves covered both of his hands. Instead of attending to the desi chicken, his attention shifted directly to the envelope.
He carefully opened the envelope, revealing a thick bundle of papers inside. After unfolding the stack, he perused the top sheet.
[Name: Bruce Lombardi
Affiliation: The Uprooter (Gang)
Rank: Master
Crime records: None
Suspected: He's believed to have stolen the artifact: X-17]
The initial page was succinct, presenting only essential details. Setting it aside, he turned his attention to the subsequent sheet.
[Name: Lucius Lombardi
Affiliation: The Uprooter (Gang)
Rank: Wizard
Gate: 1
Crime records: None
Suspected: He's believed to have stolen the artifact: X-17]
[Name: Karl Bree
Affiliation: The Bree Family (Gang)
Rank: Scholar
Crime records: Has orchestrated numerous illegal activities and is suspected of several murders.
Suspected: He's believed to have stolen the artifact: X-17]
[Name: Zohar Bree
Affiliation: The Bree Family (Gang)
Rank: Master
Crime records: Suspected of committing multiple murders. Operates three illicit race tracks. Extorts "protection" fees from locals.
Suspected: He's believed to have stolen the artifact: X-17]
[Name: Demoneas Grey (Alias)
Real Name: ???
Affiliation: The Watchers (Gang)
Rank: ???
Crime records: None
Suspected: He's believed to have stolen the artifact: X-17 and is rumored to be a devil worshiper.]
Only two more sheets remained, with the final one appearing to be a report. Before delving into them, he paused, closing his eyes. He took a moment to digest the information he'd just read, attempting to conjure up mental images of the individuals described.
In his mind's eye, an image of a disheveled man with a scruffy beard and mustache materialized. Following this, an image of a well-groomed man with a cleanly shaven face emerged, embodying discipline and precision. Numerous other visages came and went in rapid succession.
After pondering these mental portraits for a couple of minutes, he refocused his attention on the world outside his thoughts, directing his gaze to the penultimate sheet.
[Name: Sebastian Lemonhgrey (Alias)
Real Name: Alister Klemort
Affiliation: Klemort family
Rank: Scholar
Crime records: None
Suspected: Mentioned in Report 1]
His eyebrow quirked upward upon seeing the familiar name. He had certainly heard tales of Alister Klemort, the prodigious scion of the Klemort lineage who had chosen to abscond.
“Quite the brain he must have,” he mused sarcastically. If even half of what was said about Alister was true, then the smart move would've been to seek refuge in a remote part of the country, or perhaps even a different country altogether.
Yet, not altering his appearance? This was peak Foolishness.
After this, he looked at the final sheet.
{Report 1}
Description: A team of three wizards from IRA were sent, with their leader at the strength of gate 2. Their main task was to retrieve the stolen artifact X-17. The artifact went missing on November 13, 1846, and the official investigation commenced on November 26, 1846.
The artifact was concealed on a ship bound for Tangzen city's port, but it was intercepted and stolen there. Initial traces suggested it might be in Lormbrick City, though this lead was likely a distraction.
Thanks to one of our wizards skilled in tracking, we pinpointed potential coordinates in Brassington City. While this could be another diversion, we needed to act on every lead. The more we investigated, the more suspects emerged, as if someone was deliberately casting a wide net to hide among the 'crowd'.
We began to narrow down the suspects, trying to identify the main culprit. As our investigation deepened, we realized that the situation was more complex than we initially thought.
Hence, this report is split into two sections: Dark Wizards, and Alister Klemort.
Dark Wizards:
The Dark Wizard Association, also known as Devil Believers, have deep roots in this city. We've managed to capture several of these believers - some met their end, while others were incarcerated, and a few faced public execution.
We have reasons to believe they were behind this theft, and upon investigating them, we discerned that something significant might be afoot in this city, something catastrophic.
Conclusion: Our investigation leads us to two conclusions regarding the Dark Wizards.
The first is that they might be setting up a ritual, possibly to beckon an evil deity.
The second suggests they are prepping for an advancement ritual for one of their ranks, judging by the turmoil, likely for a member advancing to the rank of pillar.
At present, we're designating this ritual, giving it the codename 'Crimson'.
Alister Klemort:
He's known as the Klemort family prodigy who chose to disappear. Initially, he seemed a bit naive, but as our investigation progressed, his intellect proved to be astounding.
It appeared that he intentionally caught our attention. This man's actions are far from foolish. Each move seemed deliberate, as if he had a premonition of events to come.
Conclusion: Alister Klemort likely has ties with this extremist group and might be aiding them with 'Crimson'.