Station
Chapter - 33
Then, Moreira whispered to the woman, urging her to leave immediately, feeling awkward under the many gazes directed at them in this place.
He thought that people might misunderstand him as a lecherous teenager because of that indecent situation.
The two of them stood up at once. The woman flicked her black dress lightly. She cast sharp glances to the left and right, confused and curious about why people were staring at her with furrowed brows.
Without realizing it, Moreira had already walked past her, heading back to where he had left Zavi alone amid the bustling district street.
“Ckk. That guy is troublesome too.”
After muttering irritably because Moreira had wasted time, Zavi walked on, turning left and right to slip past people crossing his path.
A few seconds later, a calm voice tinged with nervousness came from the front.
It made Zavi halt instantly.
“Mr. Kopling. I’m sorry if I’ve done something that displeased you!”
Zavi frowned.
How does he know where I am in this crowd? He thought in confusion.
He took a deep breath, then said in a slightly restrained tone, “Let’s go. We’ll head to Forgenate, take the train, and depart straight for Greysia.”
Without waiting for a response, Zavi moved first. Moreira’s head immediately filled with questions.
Is Mr. Kopling angry with me? Is he serious about this cooperation? And why did he act so indifferent when that woman entered the café earlier?
After thinking about it for a moment without finding any answers, Moreira finally decided to follow him from behind. He intended to observe Zavi’s actions once they arrived at Forgenate or Greysia, two places vastly different from Moran.
---
At the city square, right by the roadside, a black-haired man with a few strands covering part of his face leaned against a building wall. He wore a round hat, a long black coat reaching his knees, and a white shirt beneath it. Beside him stood a cart belonging to a square merchant.
He was waiting for someone.
That man was Albert Hammond. After hearing the news of the Duke’s wife’s death, an unpleasant piece of information, and considering his closeness to the family, he decided to investigate who was responsible for the murder of the three of them.
Albert wanted to uncover the true motive behind the perpetrators, as well as the reason why the Duke’s residence, which should have been under tight security with servants and guards constantly moving between rooms, failed to notice someone slipping inside.
He thought, or rather, followed the intuition he felt.
A planned murder? Impossible if the culprit had shown themselves so openly. And why did the timing coincide perfectly with the spread of those threatening letters?
He did not know what had truly happened. For now, all he could do was wait for his two friends, then head straight to the capital and visit the residence of Duke Hamrautav Avvalen.
---
In the vast Forgenate district, Zavi and Moreira boarded a horse-drawn carriage, passing along the main road from Route Twelve toward the area where the two stations were located.
Pamlinov Station was wedged between tall, lush trees, making the surrounding area feel cool and shaded. Fresh air mixed with machine steam filled the place.
After more than thirty minutes of travel, hindered by various obstacles and several stops, they finally arrived.
Moreira paid the fare after they got down from the carriage. They then looked up at the large station sign, reading the station’s name silently. Beneath it stretched a corridor serving as the entrance.
“Underground? Or is it just the entrance path?” Zavi muttered, both puzzled and impressed by the station’s design.
Zavi and Moreira exchanged glances before descending the small staircase before them. What greeted them inside the corridor was a cool breeze mixed with steam, and rows of pillars on both sides adorned with dimly glowing candles.
After descending the first set of stairs and walking for several minutes, they descended a second staircase. The underground level left them in awe once more. A beautiful garden lay within the corridor, filled with various kinds of plants, and many people stopped there before heading down the second staircase.
In truth, the station entrance was not entirely underground. The residential area above stood on land much higher than the railway tracks built by the government.
Because of that, stair construction became the main solution to ease access. There was also an open route leading to the station, though it stretched straight ahead, quite far, and was located on Road No. 12, Capa.
Two minutes after passing through the corridor, stepping over dozens of stairs that were rather slippery due to the weekly cleaning, they arrived. They stood still at the edge of the steps, observing the crowd passing by ahead and the large tree with brown leaves scattering across the station floor and ticket area.
“Let me pay for the tickets.” Zavi muttered casually. “Don’t wander around. Just wait over there on the seats!”
Zavi pointed with his index finger toward a row of wooden benches located on the left side, opposite the ticket area on the right.
Today was Sunday, and many people were lining up to leave the city. Some were heading to Creanvell for business, Minehold for gas trading, sightseeing in Monitty, known for its natural beauty and culture, and so on.
Their destination was only one, Greysia, the birthplace of dozens or even hundreds of types of herbal concoctions. Why did Zavi choose to go there? Shouldn’t he have asked about herbal concoctions from someone experienced, or someone who also possessed the Prisoner ability?
Zavi had thought about this long before performing the ritual. He wanted to ask, but ask whom? The real Carlz? He did not want his brother to know that he had performed a ritual to obtain supernatural powers, especially since Carlz’s ability differed from his own.
Ask Albert? He felt uncomfortable asking him for help. Besides, Zavi knew that Albert had never performed any ritual nor formed a contract with other beings to gain supernatural abilities, Hollows.
This was the only way he could take. Choosing someone else to accompany him, coincidentally meeting Moreira that night, and proposing a cooperation while he was under suspicion from Albert earlier.
If Moreira betrayed him or tried to kill him, Zavi was not worried at all. He knew. He had understood the clues one by one. The strange behavior of the people in Hava district when they tried to capture him. The black-feathered chicken that tried to peck him. Everything had been carefully considered.
In the end, Zavi realized that his Prisoner ability would activate if a human or animal harbored malicious intent to harm him.
He was unsure whether evil spirits would experience the same effect if they held malicious intent toward him. He had not tested it yet. But Zavi wanted to confirm it further before fully mastering Prisoner.
Half an hour had passed since they arrived at the station. They had obtained their tickets and were seated in carriage number three, waiting a few more minutes before the steam train fully departed.
Sitting face to face, both of them frowned, unable to believe what they were seeing, filled with confusion. Moreira briefly glanced at the beautiful woman who concealed terror, the one he had encountered earlier and who was now sitting beside him, but his gaze quickly returned to Zavi.
Zavi raised his index finger, pointing at Moreira. “What is the meaning of this?” Zavi muttered in confusion. “Earlier, at the café, did you plan all of this and bring that beautiful girl along?”
From outside came the soft hiss of steam, signaling that the steam train was about to depart, leaving the station and crossing a steep valley surrounded by tall, dense trees.
Silence fell for a moment. As confusion still enveloped the two of them, three people approached from carriage two, Albert, Luke, and Feyne, walking calmly past them. Without noticing Zavi’s presence, the three of them sat down in the seats directly behind him.
“Why do you want to go to Sarvena? Could it be that you want to—”
Before Feyne could finish her sentence, Luke nudged her with his elbow, giving a simple signal to stay quiet and follow wherever Albert went.
“Alright, alright,” Feyne said weakly. She took a deep breath, then turned her head to the left, watching people pass by through the window.
Albert remained silent. His mind was filled with images of a possible horrific riot like the incident three years ago, an event that claimed hundreds of lives, including officers, citizens, and outsiders.
He knew that the Duke was deeply hated by some city residents and even people from other cities because of his arrogance and his habit of oppressing the lower class for personal gain.
“Damn it,” Albert muttered irritably. He did not know what would happen to his parents after this, who were still in Sarvena.
Feyne and Luke exchanged brief glances. They understood that this journey to the capital was not merely a casual visit, but an effort to bring Albert’s parents home, or more precisely, to trace the connection between this incident and supernatural interference.
