Stepping out of the house and onto the main street was his true entrance into this world. Compared to the city's hustle and bustle, Shade walking among the crowd felt like a drop of water merging into the sea—completely inconspicuous.
He spoke little, simply walking toward his destination—the Nightingale Club. As he walked, he listened carefully, absorbing information about this world, the city, and everything around him.
In simple terms, this world resembled the 19th century of his previous world during the steam revolution. However, unlike the past world, the steam industry here was even more prosperous, charging ahead on a path of steam-powered progress with no sign of turning back.
While harmful black smoke belched from the factory chimneys, all kinds of strange inventions were being created, and the economy soared along with the development of productivity.
As Shade had guessed, the city he was in now was the capital of the northern human kingdom of Delarion, Tobesk. It was the jewel of the northern continent, the pinnacle of human civilization, and the essence of an era brimming with potential.
A big city naturally had its big-city characteristics. Though the times imposed certain limitations, and one could not avoid encountering piles of trash and excrement after leaving the main streets for the alleys, the grandeur of the city left a deep impression on Shade during his brief hour-long journey.
Fortunately, the Nightingale Club wasn't too far from the city center. If it had been across the entire city, Shade probably wouldn't have made it there until midnight, especially since he had no money for a carriage.
Along the way, as a mere observer, Shade gathered more information about this world. The most important piece was learning about the monetary system. At least in this kingdom, the common currency was divided into gold pounds, shillings, and pence, with 1 pound = 20 shillings and 1 shilling = 12 pence.
Of course, this denomination bore a strong resemblance to the British currency system. It wasn't just a coincidence; Shade had simply translated the foreign currency terms into familiar ones, as the conversion ratios were strikingly similar.
The unfortunate reality, however, was that the banknote Shade had found with the number "10" on it was worth only 10 pence. Given the current purchasing power, this wasn't even enough to cover a carriage ride from his house to the club's front door.
But if he were frugal, he could use the 10 pence at a bakery about to close in the evening. Competing with children and housewives from the slums for the cheapest bread crumbs might at least ensure he didn't starve for three days.
"At least it's a time of peace. The Kingdom of Delarion, as one of the largest human kingdoms, has only minor skirmishes with the powerful southern Carsonrick United Kingdom, but relatively speaking, this is an era of peace and development... I suppose I'm lucky."
Shade was good at comforting himself.
This world was, for now, peaceful. The Kingdom of Delarion in the northern part of the Old Continent and the Carsonrick United Kingdom in the south had essentially divided the world between them. The last full-scale war had ended decades ago. Though there were still undercurrents of tension, peace at least reigned on the surface.
Club culture seemed to be a unique feature of this era. Shade had learned from the investigation report that the mistress under investigation, Madame La Soya, visited the Nightingale Club every weekend and stayed for at least three hours each time.
The report, compiled by the late Detective Hamilton, speculated that the club was where Madame La Soya and Mr. Lawrence held their secret rendezvous, as every time Madame La Soya was at the club, Mr. Lawrence was also sure to enter.
It was a private club with membership requirements, and since Shade had no entry pass, he followed the report's instructions, walking down Valente Pedestrian Street and stopping across from the club at the entrance to the newspaper office.
This was the office of the Tobesk Evening News, which was rumored to have royal shareholders. Saturdays were the busiest time for the newspaper because it was the day of the king's traditional weekly speech and parliamentary report.
A crowd often gathered outside the newspaper office, waiting for the latest news. The professional reporters had long since left to cover the events, and those who lingered were people hoping to get lucky and catch a story.
Shade's plan was to blend in with this crowd. Although it was already noon, Madame La Soya usually didn't appear at the club in the morning. If he was lucky, he would soon spot his target.
All he needed to do was record the time of Madame La Soya's arrival and departure, and the report would be complete.
The ease of this task gave Shade a sense of unreality. But after all, Detective Hamilton had already done most of the work, so in a way, this was just one of the "legacies" left behind by the late detective.
Shade held the pocket watch, one of Mr. Hamilton's legacies, as he stood by the mailbox outside the newspaper office. After pretending to wait for someone while observing his surroundings for a while, he finally spotted his target. He quickly compared her to the black-and-white photograph included in the report. He confirmed and noted the time: 1:23 PM—this was when Madame La Soya made her appearance.
The lady was dressed fashionably, with lace trimming on her skirt and a jeweled hairpiece that clearly indicated her wealth. She arrived at the club in a carriage, and despite the gloomy weather, she still held a fabric umbrella.
She appeared to be around thirty, of average height but plump, and while the makeup on her face was a bit thick, it was evident that she was a beauty.
Worried about being discovered and knowing he had no experience in following someone, Shade quickly averted his gaze after confirming her identity.
[Observe her ring.]
"What?"
The soft voice of the woman echoed in his mind again. Although Shade didn't know what exactly it meant, he shifted his gaze back to Madame La Soya.
At that moment, the club's doorman had already begun greeting her, and Shade clearly saw the ring on her finger. Strangely, the ring was set with what appeared to be not a gemstone or diamond, but rather a small pebble.
Of course, he was observing from across the street, and pedestrians occasionally blocked his view, so he couldn't be entirely sure he wasn't mistaken. Soon after, Madame La Soya entered the club, not giving Shade another chance to observe.
"What does it mean? Why do I need to pay attention to that ring?"
He inquired again, but the whispering voice in his mind didn't respond, leaving Shade somewhat frustrated. He knew he had to control his emotions; he wasn't the type to lose his temper easily.
"Excuse me, what time is it?"
Lost in thought, he was suddenly startled by someone speaking nearby. Thinking that his conspicuous behavior of standing by the mailbox while scanning the club's entrance might have drawn attention, he realized it was someone asking for the time.
"Sorry, I forgot my pocket watch," he replied.
The speaker was a gentleman in his forties, appearing quite elegant and amiable. He wore a black silk hat and was dressed in formal attire suitable for a banquet, complete with a white shirt. His face was somewhat broad, adorned with a neatly trimmed goatee, and his blue eyes were very friendly.
The gentleman smiled at Shade, who hesitated for a moment before taking out the pocket watch he had just placed in his jacket pocket.
"It's 1:30," Shade said, curious about why this gentleman was here, as his attire didn't resemble that of a reporter waiting for news; it was Shade who looked more like one in his notebook-carrying outfit.
As if sensing Shade's thoughts, the gentleman replied with a smile, "Thank you for your time. I have an appointment with the editor-in-chief at the newspaper. I didn't bring a watch and was afraid I'd be late, but it seems I'm right on time now."
As he spoke, he handed over his business card. Shade politely accepted it and offered his own in return. In reality, it was a business card belonging to the late Mr. Hamilton, which bore the address and scope of the detective agency, with just "Hamilton Detective" written on it, lacking a first name.
Since Shade had chosen "Hamilton" as his surname, he could certainly use these cards. He was glad there was no registry system here; he didn't even need to forge identity documents.
The gentleman introduced himself as Bill Schneider, who ran a private psychological clinic. Unlike Shade, whose profession was still unsteady, Schneider's clinic was quite formal, and it was clear that his earnings far exceeded those of a detective conducting his first investigation based on an inheritance. The evidence lay in the fact that Schneider's business card was much more refined than Shade's; both the quality of the paper and the printing were superior.
"If you ever need assistance, you can find me here," Mr. Schneider said kindly, pointing to the address on his card located in the eastern district of Tobesk. "My range of treatments is quite broad."
He looked at Shade, and inexplicably, Shade felt a chilling sense that those blue eyes could see right through him.
"Including schizophrenia."
The psychologist stated amicably, demonstrating his adeptness at conversing with strangers.
"What?" Shade's heart skipped a beat, but before he could inquire further, Mr. Bill Schneider swiftly changed the topic.
"By the way, detective, have you ever considered adult education? Correspondence courses."
"Correspondence adult education?" The sudden shift in topic caught Shade off guard. "I'm not currently planning to study psychology."
He regarded Schneider as a well-meaning graduate from some psychology college.
But the doctor didn't press further after being declined. "Well then, take care."
With a nod to Shade, he tucked the detective's card into his pocket and turned to head toward the newspaper office's courtyard.
"Correspondence... Speaking of which, what did Dr. Schneider mean by mentioning schizophrenia?"
Shade stood there silently contemplating, realizing the voice he had heard in his head sounded very much like the so-called "schizophrenia."
"You don't need to laugh in my head. I admit your laughter is pleasant and charming; you certainly aren't a product of my schizophrenia."
Shade spoke to the voice in his mind.
While he was certain his situation was related to some sort of mysticism and not schizophrenia at all, he was uncertain about what this chance encounter with the psychologist might reveal.
"Did I just step out of the house and encounter someone who might be involved with extraordinary powers? Is my luck really this bad? Or is the density of extraordinary beings in this world greater than I imagined? Or perhaps Dr. Schneider simply mentioned it in passing, and I'm overthinking it?"
Shade pondered, carefully storing away Dr. Schneider's business card. Regardless, fulfilling his current commission was the priority. Now that he knew the psychologist's address, he could go at any time.
At least from their brief exchange, Dr. Schneider seemed to harbor no hostility. But Shade still wanted to understand this world a little better before engaging in deeper conversations with others.