Mystery: The Last Shepherd

Chapter 130 In Backlund

Under the gloomy sky, a red-breasted robin flapped its wings, riding the air currents and soaring through the air, which carried a distinct odor.

"Woo——"

Below it, a colossal steel beast roared and spewed white steam as it drove along its tracks into the city.

The robin had grown accustomed to these strange-sounding insects, knowing they only walked on those shimmering "lines," rushing towards the world pieced together from countless odd "giant stones." It disliked the even stranger smells and the pervasive smoke that obscured its vision.

It prefers the outskirts of the city, where there is bright sunshine and plump insects.

The robin had no idea that, in the mouths of those who hid inside the giant beast's belly, this place that it loathed was called—Backlund.

This is the capital of the Kingdom of Rune, known as the "City of Ten Thousand Capitals" and the "Land of Hope." It is the most prosperous city on the northern and southern continents, with nearly five million people living here. From the super-rich, nobles, and high-ranking officials to penniless vagrants, thugs, and prostitutes, all sorts of people gather here.

Every day, a series of realistic tragedies and comedies unfold here.

Looking down from the air, this metropolis can be roughly divided into several areas:
The West End and the adjacent Queens borough are the Upper East Side, where royalty, aristocrats, and wealthy businessmen reside.

The East End and Backlund Bridge area are poor, with harsh environments and chaotic security.

The other urban areas are residential areas for ordinary citizens, as well as commercial areas, industrial areas, dock areas, etc., which we will not go into detail about for now.

The robin's wings swept over a dock on the Tasok River, its feathers feeling the dampness of the water. It flew along the Backlund Bridge over the East End, where a chaotic group of people were moving frantically, as if they had encountered some emergency.

The bird was indifferent to human joys and sorrows. It adjusted its wings, turned its body in the air, and flew towards the sunny suburbs.

Somewhere in the eastern part of Backlund.

"Are the women from Lame Jack's family here? Something's happened to your man!"

In the chaotic and filthy street, someone suddenly shouted in panic. A group of shirtless men, clearly dockworkers, worked together to carry something and moved forward. Outside, a crowd of onlookers followed closely behind them. In the apartments on both sides of the street, thin, pale children leaned out of the windows and looked down.

"Where are the women from Lame Jack's family? Come out here!"

The men stopped in front of an apartment building and continued shouting.

Soon, a woman dressed in oil-stained clothes pushed through the crowd to the center. When she saw what the men were carrying, she immediately let out a short, sharp scream. It's hard to describe how tragic that desperate scream was; it was like the last cry of a titmouse being strangled to death with bare hands.

"Jack! Jack, open your eyes!"

The woman began to wail.

Several ragged, thin children followed behind her, looking bewildered and helpless.

The onlookers watched the woman's breakdown with a mixture of smug satisfaction and sorrow. They felt both grief for her and relief that they weren't the ones experiencing such a tragedy.

The men were carrying a severely wounded man. Judging from his attire, he was likely a dockworker. His right leg was badly deformed, as if it had been crushed by a heavy object, reduced to a flat, mangled mess of white bone fragments.

Lame Jack is going to become Legless Jack.

Blood was gushing out rapidly, and the man's face was as pale as a dead man's as he wailed softly.

What's wrong with my man?!

The woman shouted at the other workers.

"The crane's rope broke while they were unloading cargo from the ship," the dockworker who carried the man back said awkwardly. "Lame Jack was unlucky; he was hit by a falling cargo container."

"Where is your manager? My man was smashed like this, and they just threw him back like that?!"

"The manager said that Jack was simply careless; he delayed unloading because of saving him, and he deserved to die. He's only willing to pay a sulphur, saying it's for some kind of humanitarian reason." The dockworker clumsily repeated the unfamiliar, high-level term, handing over a silver coin, successfully filling the woman's eyes with hatred and anger.

"Damn pig! You bastard who lets donkeys lick his ass!"

Clutching the silver coin, she cursed vehemently in her foul, rural accent, but to no avail. The dock company officials were connected to gangsters and the government; she, an illiterate village woman, was utterly powerless to resist.

The children around her sensed the atmosphere among the adults and were too scared to cry.

After yelling for a while, the woman's emotions gradually calmed down. She looked at her husband again and found that his breathing was weakening and the blood flowing from his leg was decreasing.

"Jack's family, your man's dying. Why don't you go find some drugs from the mob and make his death less painful?"

Someone offered some advice.

The woman remained silent for a moment, then raised her head, her expression hardening as if she had made a decision.

"Do me a favor and carry Jack to that house at the end of the street."

She said to the workers, then turned to her eldest child, “Little William, go to Aunt Mary and borrow five pounds of fresh fish. If she refuses, just say we have the money now and we can definitely pay her back!”

Before the workers could say anything, the crowd began to murmur in surprise, as if they knew what the woman was about to do.

"The Jack family? You really want to ask them for help? They seem strange, almost sinister."

"Cut the nonsense!"

The woman rudely interrupted the others, "I know they have problems, and I know they haven't really shown their skills, but this is the only way I have left. Don't interfere!"

The people were speechless, letting the workers carry the injured man toward a two-story detached house at the end of the street.

Despite it being broad daylight, the house appeared extremely dark, as if sunlight had lost its effect. From hidden corners, whispers and prying eyes could be heard.

People shrank back, stopping a distance away from the room; even the boldest onlookers dared not get too close.

The woman stepped forward, and although she had spoken so resolutely, her face turned extremely pale when she reached the door.

"Knock knock."

She reached out and knocked on the door.

"coming."

A girl's cheerful voice came from the other side of the door, and soon the door opened.

A very beautiful young woman stood behind the door. Although she was wearing coarse cloth clothes, which were common in the East District, they were very clean. With her face, it was hard to believe that she was a resident of the East District.

The girl looked around at the crowd, her azure eyes filled with a gentle smile, as if she were meeting the gaze of everyone.

The crowd fell silent for a moment, everyone seemingly mesmerized by the girl's beauty, unable to utter a sound. It was precisely because of her striking appearance that nearby residents even began to spread rumors that a witch lived in the house.

"What's up?"

She asked.

With a hint of fear, the woman pleaded:

“I need your help, Miss Cecilia.”

(End of this chapter)