In Zoltan's mechanical workshop at the Basilisk tavern, Reyn worked intently at the lathe. Under his skilled hands, a small part gradually took final shape. Behind him on the table rose the metal frame of the future device—two copper conical tubes, wide at one end narrowing to the other, like long horns. But they weren't for amplifying sound; rather, for capturing it. Thin needles attached to the narrow ends, below which sat a complex mechanism of clockwork gears and disks.
This was a mechanical phonograph, capable of recording sound onto discs.
Since meeting Viola and discovering music's enchanting world, the phonograph idea hadn't left Reyn. He was almost sure no such device existed in Ellunes, though a similar artifact called echo-crystal served the purpose. This alchemical item, made from the same sound-conducting stone as communication watches, stored and replayed sounds repeatedly. But echo-crystals were rare, especially among common folk, most unaware of them.
The reason was high cost: sound-conducting stone wasn't cheap, and alchemical processing skyrocketed the price. Plus, both echo-crystals and communication watches had a flaw: they needed regular soul force recharges. Thus, many demon extermination squad members without their own soul force, like berserker Hargrove, had to ask caster comrades every six or seven days for "recharges," causing inconveniences.
One echo-crystal cost over fifty gold—for a commoner, years of income. These factors limited echo-crystals to luxury for elites, few linking them to music.
Initially, Reyn thought of profit: "invent" the phonograph, record classic pieces, spread them empire-wide, creating a new market for huge gains. But getting closer to Viola, he realized: the phonograph was more than enrichment. For art and love goddess Long-haired Lady Freya, it could be a truly powerful gift.
Once released, it'd conquer the world, bringing music to every home. Countless people would hear beautiful melodies once inaccessible. How many new followers for the goddess? Believer numbers define divine power; via phonograph, Long-haired Lady might join the strongest gods. If Viola gifted it during prayer ritual, she'd surely get a response and blessing.
Beyond divine boons, selling phonographs promised vast wealth. The fortune from this invention would draw Silver Star duchess's attention to Viola, aiding her Winter Thunder county struggle. Church donations, family wealth growth, county position strengthening—one phonograph could bring Viola huge benefits, changing her life. Reyn couldn't think of a better gift.
The plan was good, but execution tough. Reyn started the phonograph last month and fully realized how much more complex and intricate it was than firearms. He knew the principle and recalled most mechanics, but recreating it exactly tested his memory and skill. The main challenge wasn't the mechanism—he assembled a rough prototype in half a month—but sound recording tech and black shellac discs.
The table's metal frame was for sound capture: waves vibrated the needle, etching grooves on the spinning disc. For this seemingly simple part, Reyn spent much effort. In his past life, shellac discs gave best sound quality, durability, wear resistance. It took days to find a world substitute and painstakingly make test discs.
And this was just the beginning. After the first recording, only a raw master disc was obtained. To set up mass production and sales, several more stages lay ahead: process the master disc, coat it with silver, create a matrix, clean it, and then use that matrix to stamp out hundreds and thousands of records. At present, Reyn was still experimenting with creating a metal matrix and didn't know when he would succeed. He'd already spent more than three hundred gold on procuring various materials through Zoltan and conducting numerous experiments, and he expected further expenses to be even higher. But for the sake of creating the phonograph, it was all worth it.
Right after noon, Reyn had lunch in the tavern's common hall and was about to return to the workshop to continue his work when his communicator watch vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw the central button glowing. Pressing it, he heard Pollock's voice:
"Frida, Reyn, come to me. There's a mission today. The rest of you—stand by."
"Received," Reyn replied. Judging by the captain's calm tone, the mission wasn't urgent.
Reyn didn't hurry. Taking his battle hammer "Icebreaker" and shotgun, he boarded a mail coach and headed to the Public Safety Bureau. Half an hour later, he was already sitting in a car in the Bureau's garage. Captain Pollock and Frida were there too, both in full gear, but looking fairly relaxed.
Seeing Reyn's battle hammer, Pollock raised an eyebrow in surprise.
"Impressive weapon!" he said admiringly.
Even the usually reserved Frida cast several appraising glances at the hammer.
Reyn offered no explanation and, waiting until the car started moving, asked:
"Captain, what's the mission?"
"Investigation," Pollock replied seriously. "In the Silver Star district, a wealthy gentleman filed a report with the Bureau. He says the lady of the house next door hasn't been seen for two months already and suspects demon interference."
"Got it," Reyn nodded.
Such reports weren't uncommon. Due to the Curse of the Bloody Soul, people were extremely wary of any oddities in others' behavior. If a neighbor stayed out of sight for too long, it could mean the curse had taken hold and disaster had struck the house. Of course, it might just be that the neighbor had left and wasn't home. Usually, such reports turned out to be false alarms or misunderstandings due to coincidences. However, the demon extermination squad couldn't afford to ignore them, as that's how demons and fallen were often discovered. According to Public Safety Bureau statistics, about one or two out of every ten such reports proved true. Most of the squad's missions came from these very tips. Last time, when Reyn and his comrades had gone on their first mission, they'd been dealing with a fallen one reported by a neighbor.
"However, this mission is a bit different from the others," Pollock continued. "It's in the Silver Star district, and the owner of that house is a fifth-level mechanic named Trevichi. He's a member of the Mechanics Guild and, they say, holds a high position there."
"A fifth-level mechanic?" Reyn said in surprise. Mechanics were spellcasters. Superhumans of mid and high rank rarely succumbed to the Curse of the Bloody Soul, but if they did become fallen, they posed far greater danger than ordinary people.
"Yes, so we need to be careful," Pollock warned his subordinates and added: "This morning, the Bureau already sent people to the Mechanics Guild to discreetly inquire about Trevichi. He was behaving normally and was still at work today."
"So he's fine himself?" Frida asked.
"Unclear for now," Pollock shook his head. "At least, those sent reported everything normal. We'll check his house first, see what's up with the lady of the house. If we find nothing suspicious, then we'll head to the Mechanics Guild."
"Alright," Reyn nodded in agreement. It was standard investigation procedure.
Soon the car entered the Silver Star district and pulled up in front of a luxurious mansion. As soon as Reyn stepped out, he felt a faint unease. He activated the "Voice of All Things," but heard not a single human voice or sign of life in the house. The entire place stood shrouded in dead, oppressive silence. People living in Silver Star district mansions usually hired several managers and servants. Even if the owners were away, it shouldn't be this empty. He listened to the neighboring houses—plenty of sounds came from there, everything normal.
"Something's definitely off."
Reyn kept his composure as Captain Pollock approached the door and knocked. He knocked for several minutes, but no one answered. All three comrades' faces grew deadly serious. Reyn had already anticipated this, so without waiting for orders, he kicked the door down with force.
Bam!
The iron door crashed down with a clang, but the house remained in dead silence.
Gripping "Icebreaker," Reyn entered first. Crossing the front courtyard and barely stepping over the main entrance threshold, he caught a thick smell of blood and immediately spotted several corpses strewn lifelessly across the hall. By their clothes, they had all been servants in the house—men and women. Horror was still frozen in their dulled eyes, as if they'd experienced unimaginable terror before death. The cause of death was the same for all: bullet wounds to the body or head.
Pollock crouched, touched the blood with a finger, and confirmed:
"They died recently, no more than two hours ago. Check for survivors or anything else."
Reyn and Frida turned and began searching every room. In truth, Reyn knew perfectly well no one alive remained in the house, but he still inspected thoroughly, hoping for useful clues. These servants had been killed by spirit weapons, and suspicion naturally fell on the owner, Trevichi. For a gunner, spirit weapons were the most familiar tool. Barring the unforeseen, this fifth-level mechanic's curse had activated.
When the curse struck a superhuman, it happened differently than with ordinary people. He didn't lose his mind right away but underwent a sharp personality change, as if becoming someone else. Yet he retained his thinking ability and could even disguise himself, lie low, waiting for the right moment to inflict greater damage. The higher the level and stronger the superhuman, the more terrifying he became as a fallen. Very likely, Trevichi had realized he was exposed and thus killed everyone in the house.
Reyn and his comrades searched the entire mansion, finding two or three more bodies in other rooms. Nothing else. This Trevichi had been extremely cautious and left no traces.
"All the dead here are servants, no lady of the house," Pollock said grimly. That meant the neighbor's report was accurate. The lady had vanished two months ago; perhaps Trevichi had deceived the servants with some excuse. And he himself, judging by everything, had been afflicted by the curse at least two months ago, or earlier. A fallen hiding that long before exposure was surely plotting something.
Pollock sensed trouble. With his two comrades, he quickly ran out of the mansion, jumped into the car, and shouted to the driver:
"To the Mechanics Guild immediately, and fast!"