Smoke billowed into the sky, pouring from the chimneys. A loud noise sounded every time the iron wheels clashed with the tracks. The train sped along swiftly.
Inside, passengers were looking out the windows, sleeping, reading newspapers, and so on. In a seat near the window, Arvin, an 18-year-old youth, was reading the latest news. His brow was furrowed, his mouth slightly agape, his grey eyes squinting every time he saw a headline.
Arvin turned the page of the newspaper, then clicked his tongue softly. Soon after, he folded his paper and placed it on the suitcase he'd brought. On his shoulder, a black crow with silver eyes tilted its head and then pecked Arvin's neck twice.
"What the hell, Nox. Damn it!" he snapped, rubbing his neck.
"No reason. I just suddenly felt like pecking a dumbass's neck," Nox replied in a sing-song voice, his tone raspy.
Arvin smirked sarcastically, his eyebrows raised. "How about I bite your neck just because I feel like biting you?"
Nox flapped his wings once, letting out a "Craak" sound. "Shut up, idiot!" Nox shot back. "There was a Catacrope mosquito on your neck! You think I'd bother pecking your scrawny neck if it wasn't for your life? Its venom has killed plenty of people, you know? You owe me your life. So quit whining, we're almost there."
Arvin let out a long sigh. He wiped his sweat with a handkerchief he took from his coat pocket. "O...oh, is that so. By the way, where are we going again? I forgot."
Nox flew off, moving to perch on the train seat. "This is what happens when you travel with an old man, they forget easily."
"I wonder if a tailor could sew a crow's beak shut."
Nox glared, clearly unhappy with Arvin's statement. "Listen up, grandpa. We're heading to Fondon City, the capital of the Endan Kingdom. Our target's there, remember?"
Arvin smiled, closing his eyes as he remembered something. "Ah, right. Those crazy guys."
A while later, through the train's glass window, houses began to appear, signaling their arrival. The train's horn blared loudly, the wheels felt like they were slowing down. They had arrived at the train station.
Arvin picked up his suitcase and newspaper, then put on his Bowler hat, covering his center-parted brown hair. "Come on, Nox, let's get off here."
Thick smoke mixed with engine steam filled the glass ceiling of the station. Black iron frameworks rose like the bones of a giant, adorned with hissing gas pipes. The sound of locomotive whistles echoed, followed by the clinking of boots on oil-stained stone floors.
Passengers in long coats and brass-framed glasses hurried along, while a giant clock on the wall turned slowly, as if keeping the pulse of this steam-filled city.
The train door opened with a blast of hissing steam, and the passengers disembarked in an orderly, unhurried manner. Many people were coming and going in the station
a man in a neat black suit, complete with a top hat and a golden cane, was leading a young woman in a long blue dress into the front carriage, the most expensive place on the train.
Arvin and Nox headed to the city center. The air of Fondon City greeted them immediately with puffs of smoke and the smell of burning metal.
The main street was lined with tall buildings, iron towers with copper pipes snaking up the walls, stained-glass windows gleaming from gas lamps, and wooden billboards graffitied by dissatisfied citizens.
Small steam-powered trains rattled along overhead rails, squeaking whenever they stopped at small stations above the street. Below them, horses clip-clopped, pulling passenger carriages. Vendors hawked pocket watches, double-lensed glasses, even iron-clawed prosthetic hands.
The noisy sounds of whistles, the clanging of hammers, and the hum of machinery made the city feel like a giant heart that never stopped beating.
Arvin walked with his suitcase in hand, his hat pulled low, hiding his face. Nox remained perched on his shoulder, his eyes sharply scanning the crowd.
"I don't remember Fondon City being this damn crowded,"he grumbled.
"I like it. Crowded means more food options," Arvin replied, patting his stomach.
They stopped in front of a black stone building with a tarnished brass plaque reading "Steam & Supper". Thin smoke drifted from a chimney on its side, and the fogged-up windows hinted at the warm food inside.
The large wooden door opened automatically with a hiss of steam as Arvin pushed it.
Inside, the atmosphere was more subdued. Low-hanging gas lamps cast a yellowish light. The wooden floor creaked, and round tables were filled with workers in oily coats and young aristocrats with gold chain watches. The smell of roasted meat mixed with black coffee filled the room.
Arvin sat in a chair near the window, placing his suitcase by his feet. He let out a relieved sigh.
"This is the spot.Let's eat first, then we'll find out more about our target."
Nox stared at the menu on the wall, not because he could read it easily, but because he was more interested in the picture of a roasted bird in the corner.
"If you order a bird,I'm leaving you for good," he said stiffly.
Arvin just chuckled and waved his hand to call a waiter. The waiter was a tall, slightly thin man wearing a shabby apron who approached them respectfully.
"What'll it be, sir?" he asked, bowing slightly.
Arvin, smiling, looked at Nox and then back at the waiter, "You got any fried crow on the menu?"
The waiter placed his left hand on his chest and his right behind his back in an apologetic gesture. "I'm sorry, sir. Unfortunately, we only serve Chicken dishes."
Nox stared sharply at Arvin, his wings spread and beak tight, ready to peck Arvin at any moment. Seeing this, Arvin chuckled and ordered meat soup and warm bread. Nox just ordered grilled fish.
Soon their orders arrived, the aroma of meat soup, warm bread, and grilled fish wafting around them. As they ate, they discussed the bounty target they were chasing.
Arvin pulled out a wanted poster of four men from his suitcase. The first man looked thin, wearing a long tunic with a leather belt, his long hair tied messily, with a fierce face. The second man wore a neat suit and a top hat, looking like a young aristocrat with an innocent face.
The third man wore a shirt and pants that seemed connected to his shirt, with short black hair and a gloomy, listless face. The fourth man, the shortest of them all, wore a long black coat that covered his feet and half-moon brass spectacles.
Nox glanced at the poster of the second man, the young aristocrat, and clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Spoiled brat. I bet he's just a dumb follower, used by those other three bastards."
Arvin ate the warm bread; it was bland but enough to fill his stomach. "Don't be like that. He could be a victim too, you know. Maybe he was forced to join because his parents were taken hostage or something."
Nox pecked at his grilled fish, "This ain't a fairy tale, kid. We've seen plenty of this, haven't we? Small-time crooks like him are usually just followers, so damn stupid."
"That glasses guy," Arvin pointed at the fourth man on the poster, "I've seen those in Black-Smoke Alley City. They're not your average reading glasses. There's an Arcana trace on the frame. People who wear those can usually see the flow of Arcana energy clearly on a body."
Nox clenched a wing, "So he's the brains, not the noble kid?"
Nox studied the poster, then tilted his head, "So you think he's the mastermind? Not the guy with the innocent face?"
Arvin scooped up some of his meat soup, "Exactly. I wanna catch him first, then the others. After we nab them..." Arvin's lips stretched into a wide grin, showing his neat teeth, his eyes squinting, "We're gonna feast."
Craak! Nox let out his crow sound while flapping his wings a few times, too excited. "Alright, now this is getting fun."