Zem Mayer, Regensburg, The Capital, after nightfall.
Glancing at the pocket watch in his hand, the young Investigator scowled towards the distant Dwarf Commerce Chamber.
Ordinarily, at this time, he would have been dining in a restaurant with his girlfriend, but a cursed urgent notice had ruined everything. He had to rush here, leaving his girlfriend at the restaurant. He knew all too well how unpalatable a detective's meal could be, just as Mr. Holmes had said.
It was far more bitter than milk laced with sugar.
That very afternoon, an agent responsible for surveilling the Dwarf Commerce Chamber had sent a message, reporting that someone had shipped two boxes of explosives—new style—from there. By the looks of it, there was enough to reduce the three-story building that housed the old bureau to its component parts.
This was extremely dangerous, as this place was no rural backwater. If someone were to get blown up, the entire Investigative Department would be in serious trouble.
