Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Of course, Shard didn't run away in the end. It was apparent to anyone that the three-month mission left by Mr. Hamilton was fishy, and Shard, already entangled, wasn't going to leave, especially not after he hadn't before his death.

But to investigate that mission, and to explore Hamilton's secrets, were concerns for later. Right now, the priority was to secure enough money to survive a week before making any other plans.

He took the investigation report and map, and made sure not to forget the compass and pocket watch in the desk drawer. For safety reasons, although no firearms were found, a cane could serve as a weapon—naturally, he didn't forget to bring along a fruit knife either.

He opted for an inconspicuous outfit, a black coat with matching trousers which was quite in line with Tobesk City's dress code in early summer.

In Room No. 1 on the second floor, which had a total of two bedrooms, Shard found clothes that suited his current size in the other room. Unfortunately, that room, presumably belonging to the original Shard, contained no diary or any other written hints that might have made life a bit simpler, given the original Shard's pitiable level of literacy.

Having prepared everything, the wall clock in the corner of the living room was approaching eleven in the morning.

At the cabinet by the room's door, Shard found the keys to both the room and the main entrance downstairs. He carefully locked the door, took a deep breath, and with gritted teeth, plucked a strand of hair from his head.

He then laid down on the floor between the door and the stairs, placing the strand of hair in the gap beneath the door, squinting his left eye to make sure the hair was aligned with the protruding corner on the left side of the bedroom door inside the room.

The stairwell windows were shut, the ground floor was sealed, and all internal windows were closed, so there was no need to worry about the hair being moved by the wind. As long as Shard took care not to stomp his feet at the door or be careless when opening the main entrance, the position of the hair would indicate if anyone had passed by or entered the room.

Just as he was about to rise, he glanced towards the locked door of Room No. 2 on the second floor. After some thought, he plucked another hair, despite the pain, and positioned it in the door gap, parallel to the lock.

It was always good to be extra careful, for the secrets left behind by Mr. Hamilton were indeed plentiful.

As he spiraled down the stairs, the tapping footsteps in the silent space inexplicably made him tense again.

The stair railing was dust-free, and the decorative oil paintings on the wall looked like they were cleaned regularly. The closer he got to the downstairs, the faster Shard's heart seemed to beat.

He knew there was nothing to panic about, but this was after all the first real step into this world since entering this place.

Standing in front of the door, he changed his boots, then picked up the black bowler hat from the coat rack and placed it on his head, taking a long time to finally grasp the doorknob and push open the door.

His heartbeat accelerated the moment he opened the door, the feeling of completely entering an unknown environment, accepting the fact of his passage to this world, was indeed uncomfortable.

Stepping over the threshold, he did not immediately look outside but quickly stepped out with his head down and then turned around, twisting the key to lock the door.

With eyes closed, he slowly turned to face the street, stepping back to lean on the door, his head resting against the cold metal number plate, "No. 6".

"There's nothing to be nervous about, it's just entering an Otherworld, likely never to return," he told himself, trying hard to suppress the desire to take deep breaths, raised his head, opened his eyes, leaned on the door, and took in everything before him—

The air swirled with a hint of smog, darker than what it was in the morning. Despite that, the bustling square was still teeming with people—gentlemen in suits with top hats, ladies in dresses wearing makeup, porters carrying wooden boxes, barefoot newsboys shouting, bashful flower sellers soliciting customers, four-wheel carriages rushing by, and plump housewives with paper bags and lace hats...

There was a burnt smell in the air. The diverse crowd mingled on the smoke-filled streets around the square, with the vendors' cries and the noise nearly overlapping entirely. Across the plaza, like the buildings behind him, stood three-story houses, with dense networks of metal pipes clinging to walls like vines or spider webs, reflecting the weak midday sun.

In the center of the square stood a fountain with a maiden holding a water jug aloft. The fountain was dry, and the statue had turned somewhat yellow. A patrolling officer sitting by the fountain with a police badge looked curiously towards Shard. The middle-aged officer's gaze asked if he needed help, prompting Shard to quickly look away.

A newspaper boy passed by, the scraping of his feet against the gravel-covered ground made Shard's hair stand on end; the ding-ding-dang of the bell on the passing four-wheel carriage, together with the inquisitive stares from the carriage windows, all contributed to the acceleration of his heartbeat.

Feeling his heart pounding, Shard threw his hands open and pressed them against the door behind him, instinctively leaning back in fear of the reality unraveling before him. Blood pressure rising, heart racing, the sudden tolling of a distant bell almost exploded in his head like a bomb, nearly causing Shard to faint.

So real, so unbelievable, so contrary to the common knowledge of his past twenty-plus years. This was the Otherworld; he truly had left his homeland, come to the Otherworld, to a completely unfamiliar world.

"Do not panic! Do not panic!"

Shard repeated to himself over and over but couldn't suppress his body's innate response.

"It's okay, I will get used to all this, I will integrate here!"

He desperately kept telling himself, yet his body still involuntarily leaned back against the door, his back soaked with sweat.

Then, that woman's murmuring voice rang out again, and while it was a sound of the Otherworld as well, it seemed to pull Shard back to reality, confronting everything. The murmuring voice proclaimed like reciting a Poem Chapter:

"You have gained 'Enlightenment'."

Shard's heart slowed its frantic beating at the sound, and his heightened blood pressure also began to normalize due to the Whispering. The voice resonated within him.

"What Enlightenment?"

He hadn't failed to hear it clearly; he simply didn't understand the meaning of the words. "Enlightenment" was also one of the Four Elements of Mystery the Detective vaguely mentioned before his death, but Shard needed further explanation. He was now absolutely certain that the voice in his head wasn't a system; rather, it was very likely a part of this world's mystical framework.

"You are me, and I am you. Foreigner, you manipulate the course of Fate in front of the curtain; Fate unfolds because of you, and I touch the reality of the world from behind it. You grow strong through me. Though you hold suspicions, we are one and the same; there is no distinction between us."

The woman's voice answered not his question, and while Shard felt no anger, he found himself somewhat elated.

His hunch was right—the voice in his head was probably a link to accessing and using the Mysteries within this world's system.

The worldview of this world seemed to approach that of the Cthulhu mythos and cosmic horror, where the Transcendent and Mysteries held power, their very existence influencing the mundane, necessitating another kind of force to assist mortals in contacting those strange and dangerous entities.

"You are me, and I am you. Even though you say that, you are definitely not like the usual circumstances."

He wanted to verify his thoughts with the murmuring voice in his mind, but all he got was the woman's light laughter.

Regardless, he had at least made contact with the mystical elements of this world. Even if he understood nothing, at least he was standing here with his own goals.

The earlier panic slowly subsided, as if he was getting closer to this smoky Steam Age world. The feeling of standing on solid ground gave Shard more stability. He told himself to gradually accept everything rather than panic uselessly:

"Earn the money from a commission, investigate Hamilton's story, gather the Four Elements, study the voice in my head... move forward, do not panic."

Repeating this mantra in his head finally allowed him to step away from the door. Discarding the idea of going back to change clothes, Shard carefully, very carefully, stepped down the three-level stairs from the doorway and stood on the street at the edge of the plaza, widening his eyes to look up at this world and let the world reflect in them:

"Regardless, move forward."

He said to himself, and after a brief pause, followed the plan he made inside the house, walking along the round plaza street towards the direction of the exit to the main street that led away from the plaza.