"Fine... since both the time and direction are right, I'll catch up. If I lose him, I'll go straight to the church. Either way, I won't starve on my first day in this world..." He paused, frowning. "...Thinking like that makes me sound pitiful."
With that self-deprecating thought, Shade pressed forward, following the man while sticking to the low wall. The fog thickened with evening, helping him stay hidden—but his lack of tailing skills meant he dared not get too close.
Predictably, ten minutes later, when the man rounded the back of a milk distribution building and disappeared into an alley, Shade lost him entirely.
"Ha... just as expected. Lost him."
Standing in the damp alley, surrounded by the smell of rot, he sighed. On one side, the milk company; on the other, a grimy apartment block. Pipes snaked overhead, graffiti stained the walls, and refuse littered the ground.
He glanced at the rusted steam pipes abandoned by the alley entrance.
"Better find out where I am first."
Letting go of the pursuit, Shade carefully retraced his steps toward the street. As he neared the alley mouth, avoiding refuse, a squad of police officers ran past. One, a tall man with stubble, glanced briefly at him. Shade kept his expression blank, innocent.
"Something's going on..."
But it wasn't his concern. He watched the officers disappear, then approached the milk distribution building's gate.
A dog lay there, old and indifferent, raising its head to glance lazily at him before repositioning in the sun.
The sign read: Silver Parrot Milk Distribution—an odd name, but one Shade recognized from his map. The previous detective's notes marked this place; a murder had occurred here three years ago.
That didn't matter now. Shade unfolded his map, confirmed his location, and began navigating toward the church.
Walking beneath steam pipes venting white plumes into the thickening fog, he eventually reached a five-way intersection. Diagonally left, past a dessert shop, would be faster. But that path was blocked: a crowd had gathered near a silverware shop, with police cordoning the area.
As more police arrived, and even academic-looking scholars stepped from carriages, Shade decided to avoid the commotion. But in trying to slip past, he was swept forward by the growing crowd.
A young officer, noticing Shade pressed near the front, warned him softly:
"Watch your pockets. Thieves."
Nervously, Shade checked the ten-pence in his pocket.
At that moment, armed officers escorted three plainclothes men into the silverware store. One looked like a scholar. Another, strong and imposing. The last—
"That missionary from earlier...?"
Shade frowned. Was the church working with the police?
He decided to leave. Better not get involved. He shifted backward, ready to push through the crowd.
Then his heart skipped—a sudden, inexplicable warning.
An instant later—
BOOM!
The explosion ripped the air. Shattered glass rained from the storefront as metal pipes screeched and walls cracked. Shouts and screams erupted around him, yet no one seemed hurt.
"A gas explosion?"
The police yelled for people to retreat. Shade moved carefully, glancing back.
A man dashed toward the blast zone, shouting:
"I'm a reporter! What happened?"
The police officer near the store stopped him.
"Gas pipe exploded. Step back."
Shade instinctively doubted it.
Then—
BOOM!
A second blast thundered. He saw glass fall from the second floor. Through the broken window, two figures fought in the fog, white mist swirling around glowing fists.
Thaumaturgy.
The calm voice in his head confirmed:
[Yes.]
Shade turned to leave. He wasn't ready for this.
"Church forces, clearly. They're the ones handling this kind of thing... Then, the church does control the extraordinary in this world."
It also meant the Orthodox Churches were now a real, viable path to understanding his own strange powers.
"But why am I always at the center of these things?"
As he retreated, the voice came again:
[Look at his ring.]
Snapping his gaze up, Shade spotted him—the young man from before, the one with the pebble ring. He was ahead, walking calmly through the dispersing crowd.
"No way... That's not a coincidence."
Doubt flashed through Shade. Was that man connected to the explosion? There was no proof.
He tried to ignore the man, slowing down, hoping to let him vanish naturally. But then, the young man stopped. Pulled out a map, checked it, then carried his suitcase into a nearby alley.
Shade froze.
"Should I follow him or not...?"
The woman's voice echoed gently in his mind, repeating her warning about the ring.
He hesitated, then walked past the alley, glancing casually inside. He saw the man's silhouette vanish around a corner.
"To Follow? Or to not?"
His question wasn't to himself anymore. It was to the voice.
A soft, laughing whisper answered:
[The road of destiny is unfolding before you, guest from a foreign land. Will you choose ordinariness, or seek immortality? The world is a vast ocean... do you dare venture beyond the safe island? Before you lie two paths—one leading to the extraordinary, and one...]
"Follow."
His decision made, Shade pressed against the wall and slipped into the alley.
He had chosen.