Gun of Ashes

The night in Old Dunling, as always, was filled with dense steam rising alongside the airships into the streets, but this time there was a splash of different colors in the street.

A blinding light flickered in the dimness, the glow tubes flashing on and off incessantly, making anyone trying to read what was written on them feel dizzy. Meanwhile, a vague and intense song was playing behind the door, catching the attention of passersby.

Perhaps having become the master of a house, the new owner of 121A Cork Street was heading irreversibly toward a life of abandon.

The first-floor living room remained the same as always, except now, thanks to Lorenzo’s renovation, there were a few extra chairs and what appeared to be a decent-looking mahogany table—albeit only superficially decent, as it was placed haphazardly and covered with clothes, books, and dinner plates. It seemed someone had just eaten there.

He was loudly humming a tune while also turning up the volume of the radio, infusing this old building with youthful energy, as though the storm had given it a renewed appearance.

A short distance away from 121A Cork Street sat a carriage at the street corner. The person inside lifted the curtain and glanced toward the gleaming door plate shrouded in mist.

”So, is he... back?”

Selyu turned her head, looking at the guy across from her.

Oscar also leaned over, inspecting the ridiculous door plate.

”It seems so.”

”Where did you get the information?” Selyu couldn’t help but ask.

As close friends of Lorenzo, ever since that storm, aside from the still-missing Heracles, Selyu and Oscar’s contact had gradually become more frequent.

The reasons were many, beyond just the business ties between Stuart and Nordro. As Oscar put it, as comrades who Arthur had invited for tea, they were already brothers in arms, having been through life and death together.

Though Selyu didn’t want to admit it and despised Oscar’s betrayal at the end, when this guy became shameless, Selyu truly had no way to handle him. Oscar would often bring surprises, like this time.

”Information? From this.”

Oscar thought for a bit, then took out a crumpled piece of paper from his clothes.

”I found this when I opened my shop this morning. But the guy putting up posters only managed to post a few before the mounted police chased him off. Luckily, I was quick enough to keep a copy.”

Selyu took the crumpled paper doubtfully, gradually smoothing it out.

The texture of the paper was very cheap, and it featured an incredibly poor layout with some typos in the promotional wording. It looked like a shady workshop flyer, but as she read the text aloud, Selyu’s expression became complicated.

”Winchester Detective Agency opens today at 121A Cork Street...”

”Well, though it’s a bit unbelievable, it’s indeed something that guy would do.”

Oscar spread his hands helplessly. Sometimes the truth of the matter is just as unexpected as it seems.

...

Pushing the door open directly, there was a shotgun hung horizontally on the wall, and on the couch beneath was lying a disheveled guy in pajamas. Scattered around were heaps of messy books. On the other side, a blackboard was filled with chaotic scribbles and some indecipherable drawings.

The radio emitted monotonous white noise, and the owner of the place was humming some strange melody. After a while, he sluggishly lifted his head with a sleepy expression.

”Hey! Good morning.”

”It’s already evening!”

Selyu shouted a bit frantically. At this moment, Lorenzo looked like he had just crawled out of some exploitative factory, a complete mess.

Oscar, however, was unsurprised by the scene before him. He bypassed the clutter on the ground and began inspecting the newly opened agency, then earnestly approached Lorenzo and asked.

”How’s business?”

”Minus eight thousand.”

”Ah?”

Faced with Oscar’s confused expression, Lorenzo dropped the joke.

”Renovations, all this mess, it’s all money! Yeah, realizing dreams is great, but I’m going bankrupt!”

When bidding farewell to Mrs. Van Rudd, Lorenzo had sunk his savings into that distant orphanage, and so he really became a pauper. Although he felt at the time that wealth meant nothing to him, upon returning to Old Dunling for only a few days, he realized it wasn’t important, but it was necessary.

His eyes filled with despair, shifting from Oscar’s face onto the girl behind the clutter.

Selyu sensed something amiss. She could clearly feel the change in Lorenzo’s gaze.

”Hey! Selyu, interested in lending a bit, ah! No, investing in this agency?”

”No.”

She refused decisively, and Lorenzo feigned a lost look, then gazed hopefully at Oscar.

”What are you looking at? You just blew up an airship! I have to cover those losses!”

Oscar grabbed Lorenzo’s neck and shook him vigorously. Clearly, according to Oscar’s plan, this guy should have been at a Nordro base by now, but his actions completely surpassed expectations... Oscar even suspected this lunatic had planned to do this from the beginning, deceiving him all along.

”Well, the more debts, the less worry—I’ll pay you back!”

Lorenzo maintained a nonchalant demeanor.

”Be serious!”