Volume 7 The Inverted Man Chapter 64 Checking In
Hearing the words of the squire, Alfred immediately had the feeling that the temperature in the room had plummeted.
Unspeakable coolness soaked into his body, chilling his blood and bone marrow.
When the passenger ship had docked at the port of Utopia, he had actually expected what the worst case scenario would look like – Utopia was the headquarters of some cult, and everyone there was a potentially dangerous madman.
But now, the truth might be even worse:
Utopia might not even exist!
At this moment, Alfred was exceptionally glad that he was long gone from being the noble young master he had been when he had left Berkland, and had already accumulated a wealth of experience without actually entering Utopia Harbor.
Under the watchful eyes of his adjutant and his escort, the army major general paced back and forth a few steps with a stoic expression, and calmly commanded:
”Draw up a telegram for me to report the matter of Utopia to MI9.”
”At the same time, ask the local Official Extraordinary to take immediate action, contact that captain, request a list of the people who have entered Utopia Harbor, and if necessary, visit them one by one to confirm that there are no problems.”
”Aye.” His adjutant instantly folded his feet together and saluted in response.
When the adjutant had stepped out of the study, Alfred addressed another squire:
”Bring up the typewriter downstairs, I want to get a detailed report.”
His intention was to report the key information up by telegram first, without delaying the initial action, and then bring out more details in the form of a classified document to provide a basis for the military hierarchy to make a judgment.
……
On the platform of the steam train, Wendell stepped into the second-class compartment with his bowler hat pressed in one hand and his suitcase in the other.
He was less than thirty years old, with deep black sideburns and quiet brown eyes, with few memorable features in his looks, but with his own kind of comforting aura.
A few months ago, he was an intelligence officer active in the Feneport section of Dixie Bay, and had made a lot of achievements, and now he had become a Sequence 7 Extraordinaire, belonging to the Internal Operations Department of MI9.
Today, his purpose was to deliver a classified document to Bakerland, into the hands of Mr. Director of MI9.
After taking a seat, Wendell bought a newspaper from the newsboy outside the window as if it was normal, and leisurely unfolded it to read.
This is the surface phenomenon, the real situation is that he began to use his own extraordinary ability to sketch character portraits for the surrounding passengers, memorize their various aspects of the characteristics, for the possible accidents that may occur later on to make detailed and perfect preparation.
Whoop!
The whistle blew and the steam train clanked and clattered as the scenery outside the window swept by at an accelerated rate, scene after scene.
A few hours later, Wendell turned his gaze out the window with some apprehension, for the sky had piled up with overcast clouds and was about to drop a storm.
This meant that the steam train would make an early stop at one of the stations and wait until the storm was over, or even early the next morning, before continuing its journey, instead of arriving at the same place it was scheduled to.
For Wendell, this would cause things to go a bit off his expected schedule, which would undoubtedly create more risk.
But there was nothing he could do to stop it, he couldn’t change the weather like the “god of the sea” that the new government of the Rothschild Islands advertised.
The only thing he could do was pray, pray to the “Lord of Storms”.
The prayers proved to be of little use for the most part, and as the sky grew darker, the lights on the platform ahead signaled for the train to slow down and stop on the spot.
Whoop!
The whistle blew again, and the train grew slower and slower, eventually stopping inside a platform that everyone found a bit unfamiliar.
The next second, near the steam-spewing front of the train, the mechanical door opened and the conductor stood at the entrance, shouting across to the crew on the platform:
”What’s going on up ahead?”
”Heavy rainstorm, can’t see a thing!” The station staff member, whose temples had turned a little gray, replied in a loud voice.
As soon as his words fell, a muffled thunderclap rang out high in the sky, shaking everyone to the core, anticipating the coming storm.
”Damn it!” The conductor cursed, “Which station is this?”
Since it was an irregular stop, he didn’t quite recognize which station it currently was; after all, the train he was in charge of hadn’t stopped at every station along the way in the past.
”Utopia! A small station! Make your own arrangements next!” The staff member shouted and ran to the other end of the platform carrying a glass marquee, “I have to signal the train behind me!”
The conductor didn’t have the slightest doubt about the staff member’s attitude, as this was the normal scheduling process, otherwise there would be a rear-end collision between two steam trains.
He could even conclude that the rest of the staff at this Utopia station were already telegraphing other stations to make alerts.
Of course, they must have received the telegram as well to realize that the area in front of them had been enveloped in a heavy rainstorm.
”Utopia ……” Wendell repeated the name of the place in a low voice, not finding any useful information in his mind.
Of course, he didn’t pay too much attention to it, as there were many unknown steam train stations throughout the Kingdom of Ruin, a reflection of a country’s overall strength.
The conductor looked at the black sky and muttered a few words before using the newly equipped loud speaker to address the passengers:
”A storm is approaching, and the train will stop at Utopia Station until eight o’clock tomorrow morning.”
He expected the storm to last through the night.
”You may stay in your compartments or leave on your own, head to the city, find an inn, and rejoin the train tomorrow by simply providing your ticket stubs, remember to be on time.” This conductor gave two options.
Wendel looked at the passengers in the second class compartment, considered for a few seconds, picked up his suitcase and walked out of the train.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t accept tough, unusual sleeping conditions; he’d suffered quite a bit when he was an intelligence officer, and he just relied on his professionalism to judge that a compartment with insufficient closed circulation of people wasn’t as safe as a single room in a hotel.
Of course, he could stay up all night, but that would inevitably affect his conditioning for tomorrow, which obviously had a long journey ahead of it.
Exiting the Utopia station, Wendel boarded a rented carriage at the side of the road and told the driver:
”Go to the town square.”
In the Kingdom of Rune, there was bound to be a church and at least one inn near the town square.
”Sir, is it to the inn?” That coachman asked in a self-satisfied manner while letting the horses turn by still.
”Uh-huh.” Wendel who was a Sequence 7 Extraordinary did not hide it.
In his opinion, as long as he was in a town within the country’s borders, he could easily find a group of helpers by relying on his identity, and his strength was enough to support him in accomplishing this.
”Our best inn in Utopia is the ‘Red Boots’, want to go there?” The driver asked in an ambiguous tone that men understood.
If he wasn’t on a mission, Wendel wouldn’t mind enjoying himself, but right now, he could only shake his head without hesitation:
”I want a quiet inn.”
”Well ……” the coachman responded with quite a bit of disappointment, “Then go to the ‘Iris’ inn, there won’t be any people harassing you. ”
As the carriage moved forward, Wendel cast his gaze out the window and observed the situation outside.
Perhaps because of the impending rainstorm, the people on the road were in a hurry, and even the newsboy couldn’t fight.
”A very small city ……” Wendel made a preliminary judgment from the lack of railed public carriages here.
He had seen only one even of the trackless public carriages, suggesting that most of Utopia could be reached in due time by relying on walking.
As he expected, the cab pulled up in front of the Iris Inn in less than ten minutes.
Wendel paid the fare and stepped into the inn before the rain fell.
The sound of clattering was immediately behind him.
After checking in and unpacking his bags, Wendell rested for a while and, with the classified documents in his pocket, went to the restaurant on the first floor to enjoy his dinner.
He discreetly refrained from ordering any alcoholic beverages, and instead ordered a glass of “sparkling iced tea”, which was said to be a local specialty, and a side order of fried pork chops with apple juice.
As an intelligence officer who had been in and out of high society before, Wendell didn’t have high expectations for this dinner, but the result was a bit unexpected:
The pork chop was fried tender and juicy, with a rich flavor, and the apple juice poured on it had a slightly acidic taste, which eliminated most of the grease; the sparkling iced tea had its own kind of refreshing feeling, which was very tasty. ……
When checking out, Wendell nodded to the medium-sized waiter and said:
”Thank the chef for me for this wonderful dinner.”
The average looking waiter responded with a smile:
”No problem.”
”In the entire Utopia City, our ‘Iris’ chefs are the best.”
Wendel didn’t make any idle chit-chat and quickly returned to his room, making some arrangements to prevent others from sneaking in.
Then, he fell back to sleep without a moment’s hesitation.
He was using a relatively safe period of time, when potential enemies did not think it was appropriate to start operations, to sleep, leaving the late night “empty”.
After an unknown amount of time, Wendell was suddenly awakened by a loud noise.
He pressed open the pocket watch to look, and realized that it was not yet early in the morning.
Just in the next room …… women’s voices …… men’s voices …… Wendell sat up, listened to his ear, carefully identify.
Initially, he suspected that it was the man and the woman who were flirting, but then he realized that it was so intense that even breakable objects were thrown against the wall.
An argument starting a fight? Wendell had just muttered something when he heard female shouts, curses and screams.
An assault on a female? As a gentleman of Ruin, although Wendell’s belief in the Storm Lord was a bit discriminatory against women, it didn’t stop him from believing that men shouldn’t be roughing up women.
After two seconds of consideration, he decided to go over and knock on the door to remind the “neighbors” to pay attention.
Just then, a scream came through.
It was obviously from a male!
Bang, something heavy fell on the floor.
Wendell’s eyebrows twitched, and he caught the scent of a criminal case.
He stood up, put on his coat, and went to the next room, flexed his fingers, and thumped twice.
A few seconds later, the door to the room creaked open, and a beautiful young lady with lake-green eyes and long, flaxen-colored hair appeared before Wendell.
Her hair was disheveled, her face was pale, her light green clothing was starred with bright red blood, and in her hand she carried a dagger that was dripping blood downwards.
The young lady in her early twenties mumbled her lips for a while before saying in a dreamy tone:
”I killed someone …….”