Mystery: Starting from the Shadow World

Chapter 102 Daly and Dunn

Waaah—!

The sound of the steam whistle echoed in every corner of the platform. The huge, monstrous steam train locomotive, pulling more than twenty carriages, slowly came to a stop, waking Klein, who had been sitting there for four hours.

He rubbed his eyes, looked out the window at the dim, hazy scenery shrouded in a pale yellow mist, blinked, and whispered in disbelief, "It's only a little before seven o'clock, isn't it?"

Klein shook his head and followed the flow of people toward the platform exit. The feeling of entering an unknown big city alone, without any material support, inevitably made him somewhat worried.

If I could get in touch with the Gathering of Extraordinary Ones, I could earn enough money by selling potion recipes, provided I could find it within the next two days. Klein slowly walked out of the station, along the paved road, towards the intersection ahead.

Once the roads were no longer so congested, he took out the newspapers and maps he had bought on the steam train and, enduring the chill of the Backlund evening, began to examine them carefully.

Klein hadn't finished reading the newspapers on the train; the news that the great pirate Zillingus had failed to assassinate Duke Negan and had fled wounded had already captured his attention.

However, during this second browsing, Klein looked at a certain section in the corner, suddenly froze on the spot, and even began to doubt his life.

"The detective novel *Sherlock*, published by Backlund Publishers, enjoyed widespread popularity throughout August and early September, as its author, Jane Charlotte, and renowned detective Isengard Stanton commented."

Me, Germany, Germany?!

Klein, who had even decided to become a private detective and use the pseudonym "Sherlock Moriarty," rubbed his forehead, digesting the shocking information and wondering what he should do next.

In his original plan, plagiarizing novels to become a writer was indeed one of the options. After all, even if the time traveler predecessor Russell occupied so many inventions and famous quotes, his time was limited, and there would always be some that slipped through the net.

Unfortunately, his identity was sensitive, and the higher his profile, the more fatal the consequences, so he had to reluctantly give it up.

So, what's going on here?!

Imagining the various reactions the people standing opposite him might have every time he introduced Sherlock Moriarty's name, Klein's eyelids twitched, and his social anxiety, which had been cured for many years, almost relapsed.

He unconsciously tightened his grip on the newspaper, trying to dispel the awkwardness, then turned his gaze back to the newspaper, squinted slightly, and fell into deep thought.

There are only two possibilities at present.

Either it was just a coincidence, or... in this capital city of Backlund, he discovered another fellow countryman who, despite being hindered by Emperor Roselle, had entered the realm of plagiarism.

Klein finally put the newspaper away, abandoning the idea of ​​making direct contact with the other party. Following the map's directions, he continued walking along the road, hoping to find a small hotel that didn't require identification.

If there was really no other way, he could only seek Philip's help. Compared to Mr. Azik, who would be of particular interest to Ince Zangwell, Philip was the most suitable person to ask for help. Klein thought of the two scenes he saw in his dream at the Tingen Hotel and smiled from the bottom of his heart.

That guy, Philip.

Also, the captain and Ms. Daly.

Let's go back to one day ago.

Tingen City,

Inside a house on Zotland Street.

"You haven't fully recovered your mobility yet, have you?"

A faint, ethereal voice, seemingly smiling yet not smiling, drifted out, causing the gray-eyed man who was struggling to sit up on the bed to stop moving. If it weren't for his pale skin, his stiff body and indifferent face would have made him seem like a zombie.

Dunn Smith's face was expressionless. He subconsciously raised his hand to reach into his pocket for his pipe, only to realize that he was no longer wearing the tattered black trench coat, and that the pipe had "mysteriously disappeared" from the woman's mouth at the door.

After a few seconds of silence, Dunn finally spoke: "I've almost recovered, Daly. I can go back to Blackthorn Security and resume my role as captain."

"I should remind you again." Daly, who was holding a hot water bottle, smiled and her emerald green eyes lit up. "I'm here because of Rosanne's request and the support of all the Night Watchers."

Dunn fell silent for a few seconds.

Then, undeterred, he said, "You're a member of the Backlund parish; you should have more important things to do."

"Something more important?"

"Something more important?" Daly Simone lowered her eyes slightly and repeated the six words twice. The smile on her face faded, but the aura she exuded changed slightly, and the atmosphere in the room became heavy and oppressive.

Dunn Smith

Tap, tap, tap. Her footsteps echoed in the room, slow and clear, gradually approaching Dunn's location.

The cup of hot water, still steaming, was placed directly on the bedside table by Daly, who was staring intently at Dunn Smith.

Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!

"Okay, more important things."

Seeing those deep gray eyes avoid her gaze, she closed her own, took a slow breath, and then, with a bitter smile, asked, "So, what do you think is most important to me?"

Dunn Smith remained silent.

Or rather, apart from the hand clenched tightly outside the blanket out of unease, he had no expression or action to reveal his true feelings.

"Back then, you were carrying Saint Selena's urn. If you used it and died from the side effects, that would be the best outcome for you."

Daly lowered her head and spoke in a low voice. Her body began to tremble slightly, and her hands, overwhelmed by the sudden surge of emotion, landed directly on Dunn's shoulders.

In that instant, the latter's deep gray eyes seemed to merge with the clearest spring water, filling that calm abyss and causing a glimmer of light to rise in them again.

Daly continued talking, her hands moving down his shoulders to touch Dunn Smith's cheek. Staring at that familiar face, she leaned forward without hesitation and fell into his arms.

Dunn Smith loosened his clenched fist, his hand hovering stiffly in mid-air for a good ten seconds before he finally confirmed that this was not a dream and that he was indeed in reality.

Countless thoughts flooded his mind. The things he had longed for deep down but could never have were now coming true, but Dunn found that he was completely unprepared for them, and had not even considered what the correct words should be.

But the irrepressible thrill made him change the direction of his hand, which was about to fall, and instead put it around Daly Simone's slender waist.

(End of this chapter)