The steam trains of this era weren't very fast, and in order for a single train to carry more people and cargo, the locomotive pulled more than twenty carriages behind it, which further slowed the forward speed.
By the time they reached Stone City, the capital of Eastchester County, Angel checked her pocket watch — it had been nearly two hours since departure.
Could they really arrive at Enmat Harbor on time like this?
Worriedly clutching her pocket watch, she looked out the window at the bustling crowd.
Stone City was slightly smaller than Tingen, with a permanent population of less than one hundred thousand, but because of its beautiful scenery, nestled among mountains and rivers, it was a popular place for the nobility of the Loen Kingdom to purchase property and vacation.
The train's stop in Stone would delay about twenty minutes; during this time, half the people in Angel's carriage disembarked, but three times as many boarded, quickly filling the compartment until almost every booth had someone seated.
The seat opposite her was taken by a man around thirty years old, wearing a brown vest over a white shirt, his coat draped over his right arm, and carrying a delicate suitcase in his left hand.
With a "thud," he placed the suitcase at his feet, casually hung the coat beside the window, pulled an iron cigarette case and matches from his vest pocket, clicked his tongue as if long awaiting this moment, tapped out a cigarette, then glanced at the lady sitting opposite. He lifted the cigarette to his nose, smelled it, and put it back into the case.
Angel didn't smoke, but she also didn't oppose others smoking, especially since public places like this didn't prohibit it.
Seeing the man voluntarily put away his cigarette case, she still offered a polite smile as a gesture of thanks.
"Enmat Harbor?"
Angel was watching the gradually dispersing crowd outside, listening to the train's long "woooo—" whistle, and didn't realize the man opposite was addressing her. Only when he repeated himself did she shift her attention to him.
"Yes, on a business trip."
"Ah, me too — looks like we're headed the same way."
Wasn't this train only going to one destination… how could they not be headed the same way?
The man didn't seem to notice Angel's impatience and kept chattering on:
"I've been to Enmat Harbor many times. Unlike Pritz Harbor, it's far from the Storm Sea and hasn't been tainted by the wild temperament of the southern continent. Instead, it has more of an inland style — the architecture, the cuisine, all of it…"
Angel turned her head away from him, gazing out the window instead. The steam train had set off again, and the scenery changed constantly, quickly shifting from the city's dense buildings back to countryside farms and fields.
Unlike what she had worried about, the route from Stone to Enmat Harbor was a downhill stretch, which allowed the train to move much faster. The "clank clank" sound of the wheels over the track joints came noticeably more densely than in the first half of the journey.
Looks like they'll arrive on time after all…
Her mood lifted considerably, and the man's noisy chatter at her ear no longer sounded so grating — but she still pulled up her cloak's hood, using action to protest.
——————
Thanks to the altitude drop between the two places, the steam train that had been speeding downhill finally arrived at Enmat Harbor's train station shortly after 11 a.m.
Just as the train came to a steady stop and the other passengers were still gathering their belongings, Angel had already picked up her suitcase and left the carriage.
For the convenience of cargo transfers, Enmat Harbor's steam train station wasn't far from the port area. As soon as she stepped off the train, a gust of sea breeze — tinged with a fishy smell and dampness — swept over her, a sensation starkly different from the stuffy carriage, making her narrow her eyes and smile slightly as she took a deep breath.
"First time at Enmat Harbor, right? If you go around the platform, you'll be able to see the sea. Judging by the weather, there haven't been any big waves these past few days — I recommend you take a look at the seaside…"
The familiar voice of the man who had boarded back at Stone rang out behind her, almost making the smile on Angel's face slip.
"Thanks for the suggestion, but I have other arrangements. Goodbye."
Without turning her head, she hurriedly answered and tightened her hood, striding toward the station exit.
To avoid being further pestered by that overly familiar man, she immediately hired a rental carriage without even asking the price and climbed into the compartment.
"Golden Apple District, First Avenue, um… St. George's Church. Please hurry."
After giving the destination, Angel set down her suitcase and looked out the carriage window at the station exit, where she saw the man in the brown vest strolling out with his coat draped over his shoulders, looking around — but fortunately, he didn't notice the carriage that had already started moving.
The roads near the station, busy with cargo transport, were already rutted and bumpy from the heavy vehicles, and the carriage, lacking proper suspension, jolted constantly, making Angel suffer inside. Luckily, once they entered the Golden Apple District, the road quality clearly improved, the streets widened, and the surrounding buildings shifted from low warehouses and apartments to shops and standalone residences that combined beauty and functionality.
Looks like Enmat Harbor's Golden Apple District is similar to Tingen's North District — a wealthy area. No wonder the church is built here…
"Miss, we've arrived at St. George's Church."
The carriage stopped at the coachman's call.
Stepping down, what appeared before Angel was a building slightly smaller than Tingen's St. Selena Church. Perhaps because of its age, it hadn't been built with buttresses reinforcing the exterior walls; its bell tower stood separate from the main structure, and the stained glass on the outer walls, worn by years of sea winds, appeared somewhat dim.
While she was observing the church, the coachman eagerly helped carry her suitcase down from the carriage, then stood aside waiting for payment.
Angel estimated the distance from the station to the church, about 2–3 kilometers. By Tingen's prices, the fare shouldn't exceed 1 sou. She pulled out 1 sou from under her cloak, grabbed a small handful of pennies, and casually asked, "How much?"
"Altogether 3 sou, miss."
"Alright… how much?"
She looked incredulously at the coachman, who lifted his chin confidently but didn't dare meet her eyes. "Altogether 3 sou."
Am I being taken advantage of as an out-of-towner?
Suppressing her rising anger, Angel put the pennies back into her pocket, held the 1 sou in her palm, and with the other hand, fished out her Ahowa County inspector badge from her inner pocket.
"Either take this 1 sou, or…" she shook the police badge, "we can go across the street to the police station and properly calculate how much the fare should be."
The coachman's eyes, fixed on the badge, quickly filled with panic.
"What, y-you're a police officer? I'm terribly sorry! I miscalculated just now, really, I miscalculated — no need for 3 sou…"
"Then recalculate. Is 1 sou enough?"
"It's enough, more than enough…"
The coachman took a step back, seemingly wanting to run off directly, but after hesitating, he clenched his teeth, grabbed the 1 sou from Angel's hand, jumped onto the carriage, and without even bothering to shut the door, cracked the whip and sped away.
Didn't expect the first time I'd use police authority would be… on myself.
Angel put away the badge, glanced around, and noticed that quite a few passersby were already looking curiously in this direction.
Hurriedly, she picked up her suitcase and walked toward the three-story building directly across from the church.
——————
Unlike the somewhat hidden "Blackthorn Security Company," the Enmat Harbor Night Watcher squad base boldly hung a plaque reading "Silver Bullet Detective Agency" beside the first-floor main entrance. The large door stood open, and voices of conversation floated out from inside.
Climbing the steps and standing before the door, Angel knocked on the inward-opening wooden door.
"Come in!"
A lazy female voice called from inside — it sounded somewhat familiar to her.
"Miss Daly?"
Walking into the brightly lit hall — lamps ablaze even in broad daylight — Angel immediately spotted the "Spirit Medium" Daly Simone, dressed like a spiritualist, sitting in the high-backed chair at the center of the room, legs crossed, a thick book on her lap. Hearing someone call her name, she looked up toward the door.
"Angel Granger? That guy actually sent you over? I thought Mitchell would be the one coming."
Setting the book back on the coffee table, Daly got up to greet her, the silver chains and crystal pendants on her hands clinking crisply.
"The captain said you've got too many 'Sleepless' over here and needed some Beyonders from different pathways."
Seeing a familiar face right away made Angel feel much more at ease. She looked around the hall and found that the entire first floor had been remodeled into a space like a literary salon, divided into three sections centered around arrangements of sofas and coffee tables. The spot Daly had been resting in was partially partitioned with a screen, and both side walls held numerous bookshelves. Overhead gas lamps emitted a steady light, making the curtained room as bright as if outdoors.
Besides the two of them, two men were also seated on a sofa in one corner, leaning in close and speaking softly. It was their voices Angel had heard outside the door earlier. When someone entered, one of the men — black-haired, with slightly darker skin — merely glanced up briefly before lowering his head again indifferently. The other, gray-haired, with a trench coat draped over the sofa back and a hat tossed casually on the coffee table, had his back to the door and didn't even look over.
"Nighthawks from the Pritz Harbor squad, they took a boat over first thing this morning — I'll introduce you later," Daly softly explained, following Angel's gaze toward the two men.
"Clement won't be back until the afternoon. I'll first take you upstairs to settle your luggage. They originally planned to have you share a double room with the Night Watcher coming from Stone, but since… I'll find you a separate single room."
Angel followed Daly past the hall's partition, climbing the staircase at the rear up to the third floor. As they passed the second floor, she paused to glance around; it seemed to be the Enmat Harbor squad's office area, with a row of offices along the hallway, most doors closed, the place quiet.
I wonder if they have an underground area like "Chanis Gate"… and since the base and the Church of the Goddess of the Night are just across the street, there's probably a connecting passage too, but as an outsider, I shouldn't ask…
Passing through the second floor, the two reached the third-floor residential area. Its layout was similar to the second floor: a long central corridor lined with room doors on either side. The stairs continued upward, but at the top, an iron door was locked — presumably leading to the rooftop.
"302… 304… 306, this is the one."
Daly twisted the gas lamp along the third-floor corridor, walked to a door marked "306," pulled out a keyring from under her cloak, found a key, and unlocked the door.
The room was dark, with the curtains drawn, but before Daly could fumble for the gas lamp switch, Angel had already taken in the furnishings with her night vision.
Two single beds separated by a low nightstand; by the window were two wooden-backed chairs and a matching coffee table; a desk and wardrobe stood along the inner wall; the washroom was on the left as you entered…
Just like a standard hotel room!
Looking at the familiar setup, Angel couldn't help but recall the many hotels she'd stayed in during business trips in her past life.
"How is it? The living conditions here are much better than in Tingen, right?"
As if showing off, Daly said with hands on her hips, standing behind her.