Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Chapter 29 The Gambling Ghost

Dr. Krei was a man approaching middle age but not yet fifty. His figure was slightly plump, yet he maintained it just below the threshold of obesity.

His head was completely devoid of hair, which is why he wore a decidedly noticeable brown toupee. This inevitably drew one's gaze upwards during close conversations.

"Dr. Schneider won't be back today, right?"

Shard, holding a cat, couldn't help but confirm, while the ginger cat Mia seemed never to have been in such a setting before and was now excitedly looking around with wide eyes.

"Yes, when the Earl's butler came to invite Bill, he had already specified the time for the house call."

The doctor repeated.

"Then, do you know Dr. Schneider's friend Miss Dorothy Louisa? Do you know where she lives?"

Shard asked again. If he couldn't find the doctor, then another Circle Sorcerer from the same group would do. The matter concerned the Evil God Statue, and he had to find someone capable of dealing with it discreetly.

"Yes, of course, I know her. She's a regular at our clinic, often coming in for issues with anorexia and insomnia... but I can't disclose a patient's information."

Dr. Krei apologized, and Shard knew his request was somewhat overreaching, so he opted to leave a message for Dr. Schneider instead.

The Evil God Statue, though not a Relic, still held considerable value due to its remnants of an Old God.

Even though the Academy advised against Circle Sorcerers gaining the Four Elements by interacting with such bizarre objects, those professors at Saint Byrons Integrated Academy above the rank of Nine Rings, who held lifelong teaching positions, could potentially document the stories of Old Gods using powerful language through the remnants of Old Gods.

Doing so would be much safer than Shard being directly affected by the remnants of an Old God today. So whether out of concern for Lady Lassoya's intentions or simply wanting to contribute by reporting this matter, it was necessary to let Dr. Schneider know about it soon.

But since the doctor was not there, he had no choice but to wait patiently. Shard couldn't just report the matter directly to the Church; it wasn't about his concern for the Old God statue being taken away by the Church, but rather, he didn't know how to make an anonymous report.

"But the doctor will be back tomorrow. Waiting one more day probably won't make a difference."

With this thought in mind, he left the psychological clinic with the cat. However, a deep-seated unease lingered within him, distracting him so much on his walk back to Saint Delan Square that he nearly got hit by a carriage at an intersection.

Shard had left home early in the morning, but since the quest for the ginger cat had gone exceptionally smoothly, he returned home by only two in the afternoon.

He and Mia had already taken their lunch outside, so he temporarily had nothing to do.

Shard set the cat down at home, and Mia seemed to adapt well to the unfamiliar environment, rolling around on the sofa and going to explore every corner of the room.

Shard, on the other hand, began diligently recording the entire process of the cat quest in the ledger and record book left by the previous detective, strictly following the former detective's format.

After finishing, he flipped through the detective's past records and planned to complete the remaining two simple quests—the runaway girl and the search for the doctor—in the next few days as well.

That way, after receiving the teaching materials sent by the Academy on Wednesday, he would have time to investigate the past acquaintances of the detective, seeking the secrets that Detective Sparrow Hamilton might have hidden.

So Shader spent the afternoon organizing all of the former detective's belongings and appraising his own assets. In the evening, he went out for dinner with the cat again. On the way back, he bought some breadsticks from a bakery near the square to have with the following morning's milk for breakfast.

Of course, he couldn't forget about the premium cat food; having taken the money, Shard would take good care of that little orange kitten.

Thus, just two days into this world, Shard had become a young detective living in Kingdom Capital Central Square, with a cat and a job in tow.

"Thinking about it, my luck isn't too bad... just short on money."

In the evenings, he spent time continuing his research on "Space-Time" and "Silvermoon." Having come into contact with remnants of an Old God that day, the accumulated "Miracle" elements transformed into more Spirit, making the silver glimmer at his fingertips even more dazzling.

But it still had no Attack Power; it was sufficient for illumination, though.

Shard also tried out the ability to ignite paper, which was likewise enhanced with the acquisition of that power. Although the young orange cat was scared by the warming paper in Shard's hands and hid in his arms, refusing to leave, Shard was quite pleased with this ability.

This learning session was interrupted at nearly nine o'clock that night. At that time, Shard was sitting in his study, reading Dr. Schneider's notes and struggling with the doctor's florid handwriting, when he heard the bell downstairs being rung.

The cat, which had been resting on the desk before, immediately darted under the desk, as if startled.

Shard comforted the timid little Mia and, puzzled, walked out of his room and down the stairs to the hall on the first floor.

"Could Dr. Schneider have returned to the city early and seen my note?"

But it wasn't him. When he opened the door, outside stood a somewhat nervous middle-aged man with short yellow hair, wearing a black overcoat—likely a client seeking Detective Sparrow Hamilton.

Shard's first official client had arrived.

The man's name was Lagart Franklin, an accountant living in the west end of Tobesk City, employed by "Hunter and Lola's Textile Factory." It wasn't his first time visiting for business, and he was an acquaintance of Detective Sparrow Hamilton, so after being invited in by Shard for a cup of tea, he was greatly shocked by the detective's death.

"Sudden illness, even without effective treatment."

This was the former detective's explanation for his own death. Medical practices in this era were not advanced, and doctors were just beginning to move away from the customs of "bleeding" and "purging," so it was not uncommon for acquaintances to suddenly fall gravely ill and die.

"I am the detective's nephew from his hometown. I've inherited this detective agency, and Uncle Sparrow entrusted me with it before he died," said Shard, as he relayed the identity contrived for him by the former detective. Seeing that Mr. Franklin believed his story, he then asked:

"Although Uncle Sparrow is no longer with us, I can complete the task... even at a cheaper rate. May I ask, what brings you here so late in the evening?"

Whether moved by Shard's sincerity or the promise of a "cheaper" deal, the middle-aged accountant hesitated a moment before finally discussing his predicament.

Though the Franklins lived in the Royal Capital, they were just an ordinary family within the Northern Pearl of the Old Continent. Mr. Franklin earned a living as an accountant, while Mrs. Franklin worked as a copyist at a nearby private library.

Their only child, Little Franklin, was the couple's biggest headache. He used to be a well-behaved child in the family, but ever since he befriended a bad crowd on the streets, he began hanging out with them all day, gradually developing a gambling addiction. He frequented nightclubs and underground gambling halls, pilfering money from home to squander away.

Mr. Franklin's previous visits to the agency included a task for Detective Sparrow Hamilton to find Little Franklin, who hadn't returned home for three days; the boy was found in an underground gambling den in the northern slums of the city. The second time was to extricate Little Franklin from the "Lucky Southern Cross Club," where he had been loitering for three days.

That club's main business was liquor, but at night it turned into an underground gambling den.