Damon didn't wait for Henry's response.
Not that he really expected one anyway. Leaving the Lobby, they continued, passing through the lit corridors and following the faint trace of azure spiritual energy.
They had reached the first floor of the building's left wing, a storage area not accessible to the other kids. Walking closer, they saw two large wooden oak doors reinforced with metal, standing wide open. As they halted their steps before the doors, the brothers hesitated to enter.
"took you long enough…. "
Vincent's voice suddenly reached their ears.
Damon and Henry exchanged glances, taking deep breaths, they stepped through.
A gentle gust of cold air brushed across Damon's face, carrying the scent of oil and polished metal.
Beyond the doors was a large warehouse of six horse-driven carriages, each harnessing a towering horse of metal. The horse automatons were lifelike in form, standing nearly three meters tall as their bodies shone like armor, surpassing even the humanoid training models. The occasional click of a shifting piston, the hiss of steam whispering from tiny vents along their nasal cavities, betrayed the spiritual energy thrumming within them.
The glassy eyes of one particular horse glowed faintly with a pale blue light, as if watching the new visitors with quiet judgment.
Henry eyed the mechanical horses uneasily as he followed closely behind Damon, muttering under his breath, "These things are a bit creepy…reminds me of an amusement park ride."
"What's an amusement park?"
Henry's thoughts quickly spun as he turned his head away, struggling to come up with an answer. "Eh …ah.. It's something I read about recently. Apparently, it was a place parents brought kids to for fun."
At the far end of the warehouse, Vincent stood near one of the carriages, speaking with a greasy-looking man wearing overalls. The man's arms were stained with soot and oil, and a rag hung from his belt; clearly, he wasn't the coachman, but his posture remained respectful. He nodded nervously as Vincent spoke.
"We'll be taking carriage number three," He gestured towards the polished black coach near the center row before continuing," Arrange for a coachman to bring us to Augustine city. Once we're dropped off, I want them to return here immediately. Clear?"
"Understood, young master. Carriage three is already in top condition. I'll fetch a driver for you right away." Giving a salute, the man quickly stepped away to find a worker to make the trip.
As if it comprehended the situation, the blue-eyed horse bellowed out a neigh in excitement before rising from the ground.
"Easy girl, I'll take you out soon."Vincent placed a hand on the blue-eyed horse as it straightened proudly."This one's called Agnes. She's the latest automaton of the quadruped models manufactured by Tenno Corp. They're an organization of specters who specialize in Alchemy, established a decade ago by a specter from Aegis. Stronger lungs, sharper reflexes, and faster endurance recovery than the rest of the lot. You could say she's… special."
Henry tilted his head. "You're talking like it's alive."
Vincent's lips curved faintly. "Spend enough time with these constructs and you'll realize some of them develop quirks. Agnes likes to run. She'll carry us well."
Damon brushed a hand against the horse's metallic flank. The surface was cool, yet he could feel the vibration of power humming within. The glassy eyes blinked once, and for a fleeting second, he wondered if it really did understand.
Satisfied, Vincent turned back to them, his expression firm. "Now. About our mission."
Both Damon and Henry straightened instinctively.
"There have been sightings of a strange creature in Augustine City, so we were crossing Koinonia's border. Reports claim that this thing takes the form of harmless small cats until it lures its victims off the street. The ones who follow don't come back but are found later with their spines ripped out."
Henry frowned. "So… a shape shifter bisecting people ?"
"Not quite, the bodies were somehow left whole with only the spine and skull missing," Vincent said. "The Church of Destined Death has already dispatched an Official Specter to investigate. But a ranking officer from the local police doesn't trust them to handle it alone. Quietly, he's hired us to lend a hand. If anyone asks, we were never there."
Damon's brow furrowed, but he nodded slowly. "So we're working with the church?"
"Not with them," Vincent corrected. "Alongside them. There's a difference. Don't forget by their standards, we're just considered low threat heretics ."
Damon watched his brother carefully, noting the sharp tone in his voice. 'Vincent's energy just spiked for a moment there; it seems like he's had a few bad encounters with officials in the past.'
Before either brother could press further, the sound of boots striking stone echoed through the warehouse. A young man approached, tugging nervously at the cuffs of his black uniform coat. His brown hair was combed neatly, though a smudge of oil stained his cheek.
He stopped in front of the three and gave a stiff bow. "I've been assigned as your driver, sirs. Ben Dover, at your service."
For a heartbeat, silence hung in the air. Damon pressed his lips together, Henry turned his head away, and even Vincent's composure cracked with the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
'His name is Ben Dover ?' Damon was baffled at the thought that someone would be bold enough to give their son such a name.
["hahah…Just imagine it, your True name is revealed to be much worse."] Hearing Tomoe's words, Damon instinctively shuddered at the thought.
Ben blinked, confused. "…Is something wrong?"
"No," Vincent said quickly, clearing his throat. "It's a pleasure to be working with you, Ben."
"Y-yes, sir! It's my first time serving members of the Redhill family directly, but I'll do my best."
Vincent gave a single nod, then gestured toward the carriage. "Good. Ready the reins. We'll leave at once."
As Ben hurried to climb aboard, Damon and Henry exchanged glances, barely restraining their laughter, before following Vincent towards the Carriage.
Its body was forged from polished black panels reinforced with riveted metal, the smooth curves broken only by the sharp lines of its frame. The design gave it a sturdy look, as though it were built to withstand the harshest of storms. The wheels were larger than the others and branded with dark metal rims. The narrow windows along the sides gleamed with tinted glass that concealed the interior.
Vincent quietly opened the door to reveal the interior design, leaving both Damon and Henry dumbfounded.
Henry peeked inside and gave a low whistle.
The entire space was more reminiscent of a private study. The seat cushions were padded with dark leather, plush enough to swallow a man whole, arranged on both sides for passengers to face each other in conversation. Brass fixtures lined the ceiling corners, and small lanterns sat enclosed in glass casings on either end, ready to be lit for night travel.
Taking a seat, Vincent gestured towards Damon and Henry, inviting them in. "Don't just stand there like some county bumpkins, get in," said Vincent.
"I can't believe we're finally going out…"Damon felt as if he had been given wings. Much like Icarus, he had always desired to explore the world beyond his home, yet his mother's rules kept him tethered for his safety.
Henry nodded in agreement. Deep in thought, he glanced once more at the blue-eyed horse, its faint glow following his steps.
'A monster disguised as a cat… the Church's involvement… and a coachman named Ben Dover. This trip is already shaping up to be a bizarre adventure .'
****
The streets were flooded with filthy water and crowded with junk; however, this wasn't a rare sight in low-income communities like District Four.
Due to the increase in local fishing and shipment business, the sewers were often sealed off to prevent sea life contamination. To counter this, the local authority, Baron Zhou Min, enlisted a subsidiary of Tenno Corp to conduct maintenance and cleaning twice every week, but it wasn't enough. Many of these businesses provided jobs for the mundane people of the district, but also raised the risk of contracting diseases. In the end, the sick were barely able to pay the taxes that funded the cleaning service.
"Grilled squid, come and try our spicy grilled squid!"
"Easy shipments, hey Missy, need something sent to a lover abroad? We got cheap prices!"
"Fresh Salmon from the port for just twenty pennies a piece! A dollar for five pieces."
The street vendors shouted and beckoned as pedestrians walked by
Walking along, neither woman spoke at first. Their silence was the kind of quiet that came from habit, from knowing words weren't always needed.
Diana finally broke it, her gaze flicking to the neat rows of lantern posts. "You're sure the bartender won't remember us?"
Rosa's lips curved slightly, almost smug. "He won't remember anyone at that table."
She tapped the faint rune shimmering against the inside of her wrist, still pulsing with a dull silver glow. The spell she cast had been quite complex, anchoring the bar itself as the focal point, weaving their absence through the memories of every patron who had so much as glanced at them.
Diana exhaled softly through her nose. "Hnh. Waste of effort if you ask me. He'd probably just have forgotten us on his own."
"Maybe," Rosa said, tucking her notepad back into her coat. "But we can't afford witnesses, that's protocol."
Her eyes drifted up to the looming shadow of a house at the end of the lane.
The young man's residence.
'If the bartender's nervous rambling had been true, the mother of nineteen-year-old Li Ming could be our best lead on getting some information about Heng Sizhui.'