Of course, in the end, Shade didn't run. The three-month tasks left behind by Mr. Hamilton were clearly suspicious, and since Shade hadn't left before his death, it was even less likely he would leave now.
But investigating the tasks and delving into Hamilton's secrets were things for later. The most pressing matter now was to gather enough money to survive the week before making any further plans.
He packed the investigation report and the map. The compass and pocket watch from the desk drawer couldn't be forgotten either. For safety reasons, although he hadn't found a firearm, a walking stick could serve as a weapon, and naturally, he didn't forget to bring a fruit knife.
He chose a discreet black button-up coat and trousers, which matched the clothing habits of Tobesk City at the start of summer.
The first-floor apartment, number 1, had two bedrooms. Shade found clothes that fit his current build in the other room. Unfortunately, that room, which seemed to belong to the original Shade, didn't have a diary or any small hints written in the original Shade's poor handwriting. Life would have been simpler with those.
With everything ready, the clock in the corner of the living room was already approaching 11 a.m.
Shade found the keys to both the apartment and the building's front door in a bowl in the cabinet by the front door. Cautiously locking the door behind him, he took a deep breath and, gritting his teeth, plucked a strand of hair from his head. He crouched on the floor between the door and the stairs, placing the hair in the gap beneath the door. Squinting his left eye, he made sure the hair was positioned precisely against the protruding corner of the bedroom door on the left inside the room.
The stairwell window was closed, and the ground floor was sealed, as were all the windows inside the apartment. He didn't have to worry about the wind moving the hair. As long as Shade was careful not to take large steps when returning and was cautious when opening the front door, the position of the hair would indicate if anyone had entered or passed through the room.
He was about to stand up but then glanced at the locked door of apartment "2" next door on the second floor. Thinking for a moment, he reluctantly plucked another strand of hair, placing it in the gap of that door, parallel to the lock.
Given the sheer number of secrets Mr. Hamilton had left behind, it was better to be extra cautious.
As he spiraled down the staircase, the sound of his footsteps echoed in the quiet space, making Shade inexplicably anxious.
There was no dust on the banister, and the decorative oil paintings on the walls seemed to be regularly wiped. The closer he got to the ground floor, the faster Shade's heart seemed to race.
He knew there was nothing to be nervous about, but this was, after all, his first real step into the outside world—into this world.
Standing in front of the door, he switched into his boots, grabbed the black bowler hat from the coat rack, and placed it on his head. It took him a long time before he finally grasped the doorknob and pushed the door open.
His heart rate quickened the moment the door opened. The feeling of completely entering an unfamiliar environment and accepting the fact that he had traveled to another world was truly unpleasant.
He stepped over the threshold without immediately looking outside. Instead, he quickly lowered his head, walked out, and then turned around to lock the door.
Only after closing his eyes did he slowly turn to face the street. He leaned back against the door, resting his head against the cold metal plaque that read "No. 6."
"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just stepping into another world."
He told himself, trying to suppress the urge to take deep breaths. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and leaned against the door, taking in the scene before him—
A slight haze hung in the air, and the weather had become overcast compared to the morning. Yet the bustling square was still crowded. Gentlemen in suits and bowler hats, ladies in dresses with powdered faces, porters with wooden crates on their backs, barefoot newsboys shouting loudly, shy flower girls soliciting customers, four-wheeled carriages rushing past, and plump housewives carrying paper bags, all could be seen.
There was a faint scent of something burning in the air, and the people gathered at the edges of the square amid the haze. The cacophony of hawking and chatter overlapped, blending into one another. On the far side of the square, much like the buildings behind him, were three-story houses. Dense metal pipes clung to the walls like vines or spider webs, gleaming faintly in the weak midday sunlight.
In the center of the square stood a fountain featuring a girl holding a water jug. Though no water flowed from it, the statue had yellowed with age. A patrolling officer wearing a badge sat by the fountain, curiously glancing in Shade's direction. The middle-aged officer's gaze seemed to ask if Shade needed assistance, prompting Shade to hurriedly avert his eyes.
A newsboy passed by, the sound of his footsteps grinding against the gravelly ground causing the hair on Shade's arms to stand up. The jingle of a bell from a passing four-wheeled carriage at the door, combined with the inquisitive gaze of a passenger peering through the window, made Shade's heart pump faster.
Feeling his heartbeat quicken, Shade spread his hands against the door behind him, instinctively leaning back. The reality before him overwhelmed him with fear. His blood pressure spiked, his heart raced, and the sudden ringing of a distant bell was like an explosion in his head, nearly causing him to faint.
So real, so unbelievable, so contrary to the common sense he had held for over twenty years. This was the new world. He had truly left his hometown and arrived in a completely unfamiliar place.
"Don't panic! Don't panic!"
Shade repeated these words to himself, but his body's instinctive reactions couldn't be suppressed.
"It's okay. I'll get used to all this. I'll fit in here!"
He desperately tried to reassure himself, yet his body still leaned involuntarily against the door, his back already drenched in sweat.
Suddenly, that woman's murmuring voice echoed in his mind again. Though it, too, was a sound from this strange world, it somehow grounded Shade, forcing him to confront the reality before him. The voice, like reciting poetry, solemnly declared:
[You have gained 'Insight.']
The racing of his heart slowed as the sound of the voice soothed him. His blood pressure, which had been soaring, gradually returned to normal as the murmuring continued to echo within him.
"What insight?"
It wasn't that he hadn't heard clearly; he just didn't understand what it meant. [Insight] was also one of the four extraordinary elements vaguely mentioned before Mr. Hamilton's death, but Shade needed further clarification. He was now certain that the voice in his head wasn't some kind of system; it was likely part of this world's mystical framework.
[You are me, and I am you. Stranger, you manipulate the threads of fate from the stage, and destiny unfolds because of you. I, from behind the scenes, touch the truths of this world. You grow stronger because of me. Even though you may doubt it, we are one. There is no difference between us.]
The woman's voice answered without directly responding to his question, but Shade wasn't upset. In fact, he felt a bit pleased.
His guess was correct—this world's supernatural system likely involved the voice in his head as part of its mysteries. It seemed that the world's structure had elements reminiscent of Lovecraftian horror or unknowable forces. The extraordinary and the mysterious possessed power, and their mere existence could influence mortals. Thus, another form of power was needed to help ordinary people interact with those eerie and dangerous things.
"You are me, and I am you. Even though you say that, you're definitely not the same as any ordinary situation."
He wanted to verify his theory with the voice in his head, but all he received in response was the woman's light laughter.
Regardless, he had at least come into contact with the supernatural forces of this world. Even if he didn't fully understand it yet, at least he stood here, with a goal of his own.
The earlier panic gradually subsided, and it felt as though he was getting closer to the smoky, steam-filled era around him. The solid ground beneath his feet helped him regain his composure. He told himself that he needed to gradually accept all of this rather than waste time on useless panic:
"Complete a job, investigate Hamilton's story, gather the four elements, and study the voice in my head... Keep moving forward. Don't panic."
He repeated these thoughts over and over in his mind, until at last, his back left the door. Abandoning the idea of going back to change clothes, Shade cautiously—very cautiously—descended the three steps at the entrance and stood at the edge of the square, looking up at this new world while the world reflected in his eyes:
"No matter what, keep moving forward."
He told himself, and after a brief pause, he followed the plan he had formed back in the apartment, stepping onto the circular street that ran around the square, heading toward the entrance of the main street on the other side.
"There's nothing to be nervous about. It's just stepping into another world."
He told himself, trying to suppress the urge to take deep breaths. He raised his head, opened his eyes, and leaned against the door, taking in the scene before him—
A slight haze hung in the air, and the weather had become overcast compared to the morning. Yet the bustling square was still crowded. Gentlemen in suits and bowler hats, ladies in dresses with powdered faces, porters with wooden crates on their backs, barefoot newsboys shouting loudly, shy flower girls soliciting customers, four-wheeled carriages rushing past, and plump housewives carrying paper bags, all could be seen.
There was a faint scent of something burning in the air, and the people gathered at the edges of the square amid the haze. The cacophony of hawking and chatter overlapped, blending into one another. On the far side of the square, much like the buildings behind him, were three-story houses. Dense metal pipes clung to the walls like vines or spider webs, gleaming faintly in the weak midday sunlight.
In the center of the square stood a fountain featuring a girl holding a water jug. Though no water flowed from it, the statue had yellowed with age. A patrolling officer wearing a badge sat by the fountain, curiously glancing in Shade's direction. The middle-aged officer's gaze seemed to ask if Shade needed assistance, prompting Shade to hurriedly avert his eyes.
A newsboy passed by, the sound of his footsteps grinding against the gravelly ground causing the hair on Shade's arms to stand up. The jingle of a bell from a passing four-wheeled carriage at the door, combined with the inquisitive gaze of a passenger peering through the window, made Shade's heart pump faster.
Feeling his heartbeat quicken, Shade spread his hands against the door behind him, instinctively leaning back. The reality before him overwhelmed him with fear. His blood pressure spiked, his heart raced, and the sudden ringing of a distant bell was like an explosion in his head, nearly causing him to faint.
So real, so unbelievable, so contrary to the common sense he had held for over twenty years. This was the new world. He had truly left his hometown and arrived in a completely unfamiliar place.
"Don't panic! Don't panic!"
Shade repeated these words to himself, but his body's instinctive reactions couldn't be suppressed.
"It's okay. I'll get used to all this. I'll fit in here!"
He desperately tried to reassure himself, yet his body still leaned involuntarily against the door, his back already drenched in sweat.
Suddenly, that woman's murmuring voice echoed in his mind again. Though it, too, was a sound from this strange world, it somehow grounded Shade, forcing him to confront the reality before him. The voice, like reciting poetry, solemnly declared:
[You have gained 'Insight.']
The racing of his heart slowed as the sound of the voice soothed him. His blood pressure, which had been soaring, gradually returned to normal as the murmuring continued to echo within him.
"What insight?"
It wasn't that he hadn't heard clearly; he just didn't understand what it meant. [Insight] was also one of the four extraordinary elements vaguely mentioned before Mr. Hamilton's death, but Shade needed further clarification. He was now certain that the voice in his head wasn't some kind of system; it was likely part of this world's mystical framework.
[You are me, and I am you. Stranger, you manipulate the threads of fate from the stage, and destiny unfolds because of you. I, from behind the scenes, touch the truths of this world. You grow stronger because of me. Even though you may doubt it, we are one. There is no difference between us.]
The woman's voice answered without directly responding to his question, but Shade wasn't upset. In fact, he felt a bit pleased.
His guess was correct—this world's supernatural system likely involved the voice in his head as part of its mysteries. It seemed that the world's structure had elements reminiscent of Lovecraftian horror or unknowable forces. The extraordinary and the mysterious possessed power, and their mere existence could influence mortals. Thus, another form of power was needed to help ordinary people interact with those eerie and dangerous things.
"You are me, and I am you. Even though you say that, you're definitely not the same as any ordinary situation."
He wanted to verify his theory with the voice in his head, but all he received in response was the woman's light laughter.
Regardless, he had at least come into contact with the supernatural forces of this world. Even if he didn't fully understand it yet, at least he stood here, with a goal of his own.
The earlier panic gradually subsided, and it felt as though he was getting closer to the smoky, steam-filled era around him. The solid ground beneath his feet helped him regain his composure. He told himself that he needed to gradually accept all of this rather than waste time on useless panic:
"Complete a job, investigate Hamilton's story, gather the four elements, and study the voice in my head... Keep moving forward. Don't panic."
He repeated these thoughts over and over in his mind, until at last, his back left the door. Abandoning the idea of going back to change clothes, Shade cautiously—very cautiously—descended the three steps at the entrance and stood at the edge of the square, looking up at this new world while the world reflected in his eyes:
"No matter what, keep moving forward."
He told himself, and after a brief pause, he followed the plan he had formed back in the apartment, stepping onto the circular street that ran around the square, heading toward the entrance of the main street on the other side.