Marjorie stepped out of the Golden Goose tavern. The daylong mixture of rain and snow had left the entire city of Fei dull and exhausted, as if it had just finished a passionate encounter. The night was deep, devoid of stars, and only countless raindrops relentlessly fell from the overcast sky, painful as they hit.
Even in the bustling city of Fei, the grandeur of paper-thin dreams subsided gradually amidst the dim lights and overwhelming intoxication. Marjorie, having just passed the Green Agate Square, paused at the street corner. Under the dim glow of the magical crystal lamppost, she looked at her recently bought dress with regret. The beautiful layered skirt had already been stained with several mud spots.
"Damn weather," Marjorie cursed, carefully wiping with her fingers, but it only seemed to make the dull brown dirt marks grow larger and her frown deepen. This dress was one of her secret weapons as a part-time bar girl. Everybody knew Marjorie was the most famous captivating lady of the Golden Goose tavern. When she performed a hot and fiery dance on the tables, the men would ecstatically howl, shaking the very foundations of the building. Then, a particular patron would murmur a few words to the boss and discreetly slip a few silver innies, purchasing the privilege of spending some private time with her in one of the rooms upstairs.
Usually, it lasted about two hours, sometimes even longer. Once it was over, Marjorie's purse would jingle with the sound of "ding-dong," with some more coins. In a few more years, she could buy a two-story house in the outskirts of Fei with a backyard, or go even farther away and find a decent man to marry. Every night before falling asleep, Marjorie would count her earnings, reveling in the satisfaction.
The cleaning cost for this high-grade dress, which couldn't be rinsed, would delay her dreams for several more days. So, when that man approached her, Marjorie decided to make some more business. The dim light prevented her from seeing the man's face clearly, but his shiny long boots rhythmically pounding the ground, the slender cane in his hand, and the carriage waiting behind him all implied that he was worth her attention. If he was a gentleman, she might even pay a visit to that outrageously expensive inn at the Diamond Street.
Marjorie had only been there once, half a year ago. An elderly nobleman had bought her for an entire night with one gold coin. Of course, the nobleman did not go to the upstairs rooms; instead, he took her to the Royal Post Station. That hotel's luxurious decoration was no different from the palaces Marjorie had imagined. Although the old man's flabby thing had made her tongue sore for the whole night, just to satisfy him, she woke up the next day with aching cheeks. Yet, Marjorie missed the feeling of rolling on the soft feather-filled bed.
Licking her voluptuous and sexy lips, Marjorie leaned against the lamppost, lightly spinning the umbrella handle, trying to expose her long and fit legs as much as possible from beneath her skirt, her proud bosom outlining an impressive curve under her clothes. She was an expert at seducing men, and she knew it well.
Soon, Marjorie regretted her greed. When the man revealed the knife hidden behind him, its chilling glimmer reflecting in the lamplight, her charming and dazed eyes turned into a mixture of fear and despair. The unbearable pain ripped apart her thoughts and senses, and soon, she knew nothing at all.
Chief Inspector Lem Knight of the patrol squad received the report early in the morning. The gray mist made the Green Agate Square look weary as a group of mounted policemen sealed off the area. Curious early-risers peeked over, wanting to know what had happened, but they were immediately scolded by the soldiers and shooed away. Lem slowly uncovered the black cloth covering the body, revealing a headless corpse. It was a well-built girl.
The blood had not completely congealed due to the cold, leaving a sticky red layer on the damp pavement. "Find out her identity quickly," Lem ordered his subordinates, then added, looking at the provocative dress, "Go to the bar and Nightingale Street, see if anyone is missing." He weighed the money pouch found on the body, the crisp sound of the Innies colliding with the Copper Pennies, and cursed under his breath. Partial dismemberment again. Clean-cut incisions every time on the bodies. Expensive possessions carried by the victims never missing.
He knew that someone had reappeared.
The Midnight Butcher, that's what they called him within the patrol squad.
Maybe Fei lacked a certain mysteriousness and charm compared to the Holy City of Anno or the Eternal Capital of Constantin, but even the most widely-traveled wandering poet couldn't deny that Fei, the City that Never Sleeps, was the most enchanting city they had ever seen.
The gloomy winter chill embraced the city, its gray sky devoid of sunshine. After days of continuous drizzle, a silver veil of rain settled after a short respite.
Francia Flair stood in the stone entrance hall of the apartment, complaining about the wretched weather. He was a young man of slender build, his mouth always tightly pursed, and his brown eyes matching his hair, adding a hint of coldness to his appearance. In the words of the common expression, his face had the natural charm of "blank expression."
"Francia, it's been a while since we last met," someone cooed near Francia's ear in a flirtatious tone, and something slippery quickly licked his earlobe.
Startled, Francia nearly tipped over his glass, only to realize that a golden-haired young bar girl had silently appeared behind him, smiling mischievously like a cunning little cat.
She was a lively girl, and her two jadesque green eyes always twinkled and evoked tenderness. Tiny freckles adorned her nose, making her even more playful.
"Anne, don't scare people," Francia waved his hand with annoyance and pulled out a handkerchief to clean the beer that had splashed on his sleeve.
"Oh? It's so beautiful," Anne quickly snatched the handkerchief, carefully examining the lily pattern and lace trim before shamelessly stuffing it into her own purse.
Francia shrugged helplessly. He couldn't bring out anything delicate in front of this little wildcat.
Silver-encrusted snuff boxes, elegantly designed lighters, unique cufflinks, countless trinkets had all changed ownership like this.
It was a kind of robbing each other playfully that they often engaged in, a sign of their familiarity. Francia was happily willing to give her small gifts in this way.
"What's wrong? Miss me?" Anne wrapped her arms around Francia's neck and blew gently into his ear, "If you want to use the upstairs room now, it'll cost you."
"Not possible now, I still have work this afternoon," Francia took out a badge with the insignia of the judicial branch, proudly waving it in front of Anne.
Anne widened her beautiful green eyes and exclaimed, "You've become a prosecutor?" she screamed excitedly.
"I'm still just an apprentice, but a few more successful cases and I believe I'm not far from becoming official," Francia boasted with confidence, infecting Anne with joy. He felt warm inside as well. After all, in profit-driven Fei, those genuinely wishing him well were few, and Anne was one of them.
Francia's family had been a declining noble lineage for a long time. From his grandfather's viscount title to his father's baron, when it came to Francia, only the lowest rank of baron was left in the family with no other estate. That was why he sold the ancestral home and moved to the old district.
Francia had studied a great deal about the law through the extensive notes his father had written. With his thorough knowledge of the law, Francia barely managed to find work in the court with the help of a distant relative. From the age of sixteen until twenty-three, he had spent seven years memorizing the legal codes and accumulating a wealth of experience. Sometimes, even senior judges discreetly relied on his reminders of legal provisions in the courtroom. They affectionately called him the "Walking Legal Code of the Seventh Court."
With his cleverness, his position had steadily risen from a record clerk to a clerk, and now to an apprentice prosecutor. Francia believed that by making apt judgments in a few more court cases, he would soon remove the word "apprentice."
"When the tavern closes, remember to come pick me up," Anne blushed, her pretty face turning red. She puckered her little nose and said, "I'll bring you a gift to celebrate, and it'll be free."
Francia knew what free gift she was referring to. On many lonely nights, that soft and alluring gift had ignited passion in his shabby apartment.
"Mmm," Francia affectionately patted Anne's head, quietly told her, "Wait a little longer. Once I become a prosecutor, I'll be able to take care of you."
A while later, from a corner of the Golden Goose tavern, came the noise of a table being overturned and the whistles of onlookers. The bar owner, looking at the entwined pair sprawled on the floor, shouted loudly, "Sir, if you want to use the upstairs room now, I'll give you a twenty percent discount."