Chapter 6: Correspondence Education |
Leaving the house and stepping onto the bustling streets, Shade felt as if he had truly entered this world. Amidst the city's clamor, his presence was like a drop of water merging into the ocean—insignificant and unremarkable.
He spoke little, walking purposefully toward his destination, the Nightingale Club. Along the way, he observed and listened, striving to understand this world, this city, and everything around him.
Simply put, this world resembled the 19th-century steam revolution of his former world, but its steam industry was even more prosperous. It seemed to march steadfastly down the path of steam-powered progress, with no intention of deviating. Harmful black smoke poured from factory chimneys, yet bizarre inventions emerged alongside it, and the economy soared with the development of productivity.
As Shade had suspected, the city he was in was Tobesk City, the capital of the Kingdom of Drarian, located in the Northern Kingdom. Known as the "Jewel of the North," it was a convergence of human civilization and the epitome of the era. A large city like this, of course, had its grandeur, but also its flaws. Despite the era's constraints, venturing into alleys from the main streets inevitably meant encountering piles of trash and excrement. Still, in the brief hour Shade spent walking through it, the grandeur of the metropolis imprinted itself in his mind.
Fortunately, the Nightingale Club wasn't far from the city center. A cross-city journey would have taken Shade until midnight, and he lacked the funds for a carriage ride. On this journey, he passively gathered more information about the world. Most crucially, he learned about the currency system. At least in this kingdom, money was divided into gold pounds, shillings, and pennies: 1 pound = 20 shillings, and 1 shilling = 12 pennies.
Interestingly, the terms sounded much like British currency. This wasn't mere coincidence; Shade had translated the alien terms into familiar ones, as the conversion ratios were almost identical. Unfortunately, the "10" marked on the note Shade found turned out to be worth only 10 pennies. With the current purchasing power, this was insufficient to hire a carriage to the club from his apartment door. However, if he were frugal, 10 pennies might suffice to buy leftover bread crumbs at the evening-close of a bakery, competing with children and housewives from the slums, and keep him from starving for three days.
"At least it's a time of peace," Shade comforted himself. The Kingdom of Drarian, one of the largest human kingdoms, had minor skirmishes with the Carsonrick United Kingdom in the south. Despite these localized conflicts, it was an era of peace and progress—a time for development.
The club culture seemed to be a unique hallmark of this era. According to investigative reports, the mistress under investigation, Madame Lasso, visited the Nightingale Club every weekend, staying for at least three hours. The late Mr. Hamilton's report speculated that this club was the rendezvous spot for Madame Lasso and Mr. Lawrence, as both invariably appeared there simultaneously.
The Nightingale Club was a private, membership-only establishment. Without an entry pass, Shade could only loiter across the street, at the offices of the Tobesk Evening Post, as detailed in the report. Saturday was the busiest day at the newspaper, coinciding with the King’s weekly speech and parliamentary updates. Crowds gathered at the office for updates, hoping to catch a stroke of luck, while professional reporters were already in the field.
This straightforward task left Shade feeling somewhat detached, as if this were all too easy. Then again, the late Mr. Hamilton had done most of the groundwork. This investigation felt like part of Hamilton’s "legacy," especially since Shade carried one of Hamilton’s heirlooms: a pocket watch. Standing by the mailbox outside the newspaper office, Shade nonchalantly watched the surroundings until his target appeared. At 1:23 PM, he confirmed her identity by comparing her to the black-and-white photograph included in the report.
Madame Lasso was fashionably dressed, with lace trim on her skirt and jeweled hair accessories that bespoke wealth. She arrived at the club by carriage, shielding herself with a fabric parasol despite the overcast weather. She appeared to be in her thirties, of average height and full figure. Despite the heavy makeup, she was evidently a beauty.
Wary of being discovered, and lacking experience in tailing, Shade quickly averted his gaze after identifying her.
"Observe her ring."
“What?” The woman’s whispered voice in his mind startled him. Unsure of what it was, he redirected his attention to Madame Lasso, following the voice’s suggestion. As she turned toward the club’s doorman, Shade clearly saw her ring—a peculiar piece set with what looked like a small pebble rather than a gemstone or diamond. Due to the distance and passing pedestrians occasionally obstructing his view, he couldn’t be sure. Madame Lasso soon entered the club, leaving him no further chance to examine it.
“What does that mean? Why did you want me to notice her ring?” Shade asked the voice in his mind, but it remained silent. Annoyed, he tried to control his temper; he wasn’t one to get angry easily.
“Excuse me, sir, what time is it?” a voice beside him interrupted his thoughts. Startled, Shade worried he had drawn attention by openly observing the club. But it was just a gentleman asking for the time.
“Sorry, I forgot my watch,” the man apologized. He appeared to be in his forties, an elegant and affable middle-aged gentleman wearing a black silk hat, formal evening wear, and a white shirt. His wide face and neat goatee made him seem distinguished, while his blue eyes exuded charm.
Shade hesitated before retrieving his pocket watch from his coat pocket. “1:30,” he replied, curious about the man’s reason for being here. His attire was far too formal for a reporter awaiting news.
As if reading Shade’s thoughts, the gentleman smiled. “Thank you. I have an appointment with the newspaper editor. Without my watch, I thought I might be late, but it seems I’m just on time.”
He handed Shade a business card, which Shade politely accepted before offering his own—the late Mr. Hamilton’s card, bearing the detective agency’s address and services but only listing "Hamilton Detective" as the name.
The gentleman introduced himself as Bill Schneider, a private psychologist. Unlike Shade’s shaky new profession, Schneider’s clinic seemed reputable, and his income presumably exceeded Shade’s. Evidence of this disparity lay in the superior quality of Schneider’s business card.
“If you ever need assistance, feel free to visit me,” Schneider said warmly, pointing to the clinic’s address on the card, located in Tobesk’s eastern district. “I treat a wide range of conditions,” he added, his gaze seeming to pierce through Shade, leaving an unsettling impression.
“Including schizophrenia,” Schneider said amiably. His knack for engaging strangers was evident.
“What?” Shade’s heart skipped a beat. Before he could respond, Schneider quickly shifted the topic: “By the way, have you ever considered adult education? Correspondence courses?”
“Correspondence courses?” The abrupt change caught Shade off guard. “I haven’t planned to study psychology.”
Taking Shade’s refusal gracefully, Schneider nodded. “Very well, then. Farewell.” After pocketing Shade’s business card, he turned toward the newspaper office.
“Correspondence courses... What did Dr. Schneider mean by specifically mentioning schizophrenia?” Shade wondered. The voice in his mind resembled such symptoms, but he dismissed the idea, knowing his experiences were tied to the supernatural.
“You don’t need to laugh in my head,” Shade muttered internally. “Your laughter may be charming, but you’re definitely not a figment of schizophrenia.”
Though confident that he was encountering the mystical, Shade couldn’t shake the feeling that Schneider had discerned something unusual. “Was meeting someone potentially connected to supernatural forces so soon a stroke of bad luck? Or is this world more saturated with such individuals than I thought? Perhaps I’m overthinking, and Dr. Schneider’s comment was offhand.”
Shade carefully tucked Schneider’s card away. Regardless, completing his commission was the priority. Schneider’s clinic could be visited later. Despite their brief interaction, Schneider didn’t seem hostile, but Shade resolved to better understand this world before engaging further with others.