"Susan," Luther muttered to himself, turning the ID card over in his hand as he walked briskly down the cobblestone street.
The card read: 'Trainee Member of the Grendel Provincial Investigation Committee.'
His gaze lingered on the photo, scanning it twice to be sure. The face staring back at him was undeniably familiar; the same overly enthusiastic young woman who had just offered him her assistance out of the blue.
"Investigation committee, huh?" Luther said aloud, frowning. He chose to conveniently ignore the word "trainee." Regardless of rank, she was still part of the organization that monitored the supernatural. And that was concerning enough.
But why had she approached him? Was it sheer coincidence? Or did she have a reason?
Luther's mind raced as he retraced their encounter. Nothing about it had struck him as odd at the time. She'd seemed more awkward than threatening, and her questions had been routine, maybe even innocent. No cryptic phrases. No concealed threats. Just a friendly, albeit overly curious, exchange.
Still, something about her involvement didn't sit right. After all, he had only arrived in Grendel Province yesterday. Aside from a carriage driver, she was the first person he'd interacted with. He had been careful, too careful, in fact; to leave any trail for the authorities to follow.
Was it possible she'd mistaken him for someone else? It wouldn't be the first time Luther had been caught up in someone else's misunderstanding. That had happened enough times in his previous life. Or perhaps she wasn't on official business at all. Maybe this 'trainee member' was moonlighting as some sort of amateur investigator to make ends meet. As absurd as the idea sounded, stranger things had happened.
"Let it go for now," he muttered under his breath. He had a more immediate concern to deal with, the strange, monstrous creature reportedly hiding in the thick smoke ahead.
Just as Luther turned a corner, a sudden 'ding-ding' broke through the bustling noise of the street. He froze, watching as two mechanical arms descended at an intersection, their gears clicking loudly as they formed a barrier across the road.
Luther glanced around. In the distance, a gleaming steam tram encased in polished steel was steadily rolling toward the platform. His eyes followed the tracks and the passengers gathering nearby. The once-idle group of people now stood at attention, dusting off their jackets and smoothing their skirts. Some reached for their leather bags, while others merely adjusted their hats, all preparing to board the tram.
The tram hissed to a halt, releasing a billow of thick steam. Its doors groaned open, and a bustling exchange began; passengers stepping off, others climbing aboard. Within moments, the tram sealed itself shut and rumbled forward, disappearing down the tracks. The mechanical arms lifted again with a hiss of pneumatics, and the street resumed its normal rhythm.
Luther stared after the tram, awestruck. He had seen trains before, but this? This was different. The efficiency, the mechanical elegance, the integration of steam technology, it was mesmerizing. His gaze drifted toward the horizon, where he could make out a sprawling railway system crisscrossing the city. The sheer complexity of it made one thing clear: this world was far from simple.
As he continued down the street, Luther passed a variety of steam-powered creations that only deepened his fascination. Massive steam trucks lumbered along the roads, while children squealed with delight at clockwork toy frogs hopping in their hands. Everywhere he looked, the influence of the Church of Science and Mechanicus was unmistakable. Their mechanical marvels had thoroughly transformed daily life, embedding themselves into the fabric of society.
Eventually, Luther arrived at the scene of chaos. A bright yellow cordon stretched across the street, keeping a growing crowd of onlookers at bay. Flames licked at the edges of overturned steam engines, their gutted frames still smoldering. The charred remains of nearby storefronts bore the scars of battle.
Behind the cordon stood a weary middle-aged man with a badge that marked him as a member of the investigation committee. He barked orders at the restless crowd, his voice hoarse with impatience.
Luther's attention shifted beyond the wreckage, to where the action was still unfolding. Across the street, a creature; three meters tall and dripping with viscous black oil, fought against three glowing human figures. Sparks flew as weapons clashed, and with every blow, a torrent of black oil sprayed from the beast's slick body. The crowd erupted into cheers each time the glowing combatants landed a hit, the spectacle oddly reminiscent of a live sports match.
Yet, as captivating as the battle was, Luther couldn't ignore the shadowy figure looming deeper within the smoke; a colossal being, nearly three stories tall, its silhouette barely visible. It was moving, slowly but deliberately, toward the scene.
What unnerved Luther most wasn't the creature itself, but the crowd's apparent indifference to its presence. Were they prepared for its arrival, or were they truly unaware of the danger?
Luther narrowed his eyes, his unease growing by the second. Something wasn't right here.
Luther stood before the middle-aged man, his gaze steady and searching, hoping to glean something; anything, from the man's impatient expression. Instead, the man shot him a sharp glare, his eyes practically screaming, '"Buzz off, and stop standing here like an idiot!"'
Luther sighed, raising an eyebrow at the blatant hostility. "Well, isn't he just a ray of sunshine?" he muttered under his breath. He stepped back as if to comply, only to slyly slide his foot forward and stomp hard on the man's instep. The man yelped in pain, but by the time he looked up, Luther had already melted into the crowd, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.
'If you're going to glare at me for no reason, then you've earned yourself a little payback,' Luther thought smugly. He wasn't the kind of guy to take disrespect lying down.
With the commotion drawing attention, Luther decided to quietly slip away. He casually strolled to another part of the scene, his eyes scanning for someone less... volatile. His gaze landed on a young woman standing stiffly on guard duty. Something about her felt oddly familiar.
Frowning, Luther pulled an ID card from his pocket: the one he'd picked up earlier. He held it up and compared the photo to her face. His eyes narrowed, then widened in recognition.
'It's her.'
Meanwhile, the young woman, Susan, had already noticed him. It was hard not to, given the ridiculous white robe he was wearing. Who wore something so formal and out-of-place on a normal day? His unkempt hair and squinting eyes made him stand out even more, like a character who'd stepped out of a time machine.
She let out a sigh, praying silently. 'Please don't come over here. Please don't come over here.'
But luck, as always, had other plans. Out of all the people he could have approached, Luther, of course, walked directly toward her.
Susan's heart sank. It was like waking up on a perfect morning, going to the cafeteria with a bounce in her step, only to discover that breakfast was nothing but canned herring—stinky, slimy, and utterly revolting.
She stiffened, trying to avoid eye contact with the man. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he'd leave. But then her eyes caught something he was holding.
'Wait.'
Her face paled as she watched him pull out the ID card she thought she'd lost. Her hand darted to her pocket, frantically checking for it. Empty.
'Oh no! It's gone! How did it end up with him?!'
Panic hit her like a steam-powered train. That ID wasn't just a formality, it was essential for her progression from trainee to full-fledged member of the investigation committee. Losing it meant weeks, if not months, of bureaucratic hoops and endless errands. Her uncle had expedited the process last time, but she doubted he'd bail her out again. This was a disaster.
Her thoughts raced. 'I have to get it back. Now.'
She glanced at Luther, trying to gauge his intentions. Summoning her courage, she blinked at him deliberately, hoping to catch his attention. He didn't react. She tried again: still nothing. His face remained impassive, as if he didn't notice her at all.
Her panic morphed into frustration. 'This guy! What is he planning? Does he want something from me?'
Her face flushed as a wild thought crossed her mind. 'Could he be... trying to blackmail me?!'
Her imagination, already prone to spiraling, took off at full speed. She'd read enough contraband romance novels to fill a library. Her shelves were lined with tales of brooding villains and noble heroines, and she'd spent countless hours daydreaming herself into those stories. Now, her overactive imagination was spinning Luther into the role of the scoundrel.
'He's going to demand something outrageous! Maybe even... something scandalous!' Her face burned brighter.
'What should I do? Do I... give in? No, I can't! I need to stay strong! The heroines in those novels never cave right away. They hold out, seven or eight chapters, at least. Yes, I'll resist!'
Meanwhile, Luther stood a few feet away, completely oblivious to the drama unfolding in Susan's mind. He frowned, watching her blink repeatedly before lowering her head, cheeks glowing red.
"What's wrong with her?" he murmured, scratching his head. All he wanted was some information; nothing complicated. Just someone who could tell him about the monstrous creature slowly making its way toward the scene. Yet, this woman was acting like she'd been struck by lightning.
With a sigh, he scanned the area for someone else who might be helpful. His eyes landed on a tall, dark-skinned man nearby, who had an easygoing smile and seemed far less intimidating than the others. Luther's face lit up.
'Finally, someone who doesn't look completely unhinged.'
With that, he turned away from Susan, leaving her to stew in her overactive imagination. She stared after him, torn between confusion and relief.
'What's he doing now? Is he... ignoring me?'
Susan clenched her fists. "This guy!" she hissed under her breath, determined now more than ever to figure out exactly what he wanted.
But Luther was already moving on, his sights set on the next potential source of answers.