Chapter 98: Leicester, City of Sorrow
Leicester, the City of Sorrow, is also known as the City of Weeping or the City of Silence.
This is because for most of the year, it is caught in a continuous and long rainy season. The drizzling rain does not cease for a moment, like the soft sobs of a young girl.
The fog that permeates the city all day long encloses it, bringing inconvenience to the lives of its inhabitants while adding a mysterious atmosphere.
Locals in Leicester always warn outsiders not to walk in the city on foggy nights.
Especially in those dark and deserted corners, and the intricately winding alleyways of the Old Town.
“Because Leicester under the night fog is a city of the abnormal.”
Edward Harriman is a “cleaner” employed by the Disciplinary Bureau. His primary duty is to clean up the “rats” and “moths” in the dark corners of the city. More accurately, he is tasked with eradicating fallen Transcendent beings who hold forbidden knowledge and twisted doctrines.
Not all illegal Transcendent beings end up imprisoned, nor are they all torn apart by the Disciplinary Bureau’s mad dogs in some unknown corner. Some yield under the Bureau’s oppressive power and serve them. The paths taken by these individuals are generally not considered dangerous, and the forbidden knowledge they possess is not enough to cause significant harm.
Edward is one such person.
“Being held hostage by the Kingdom’s hounds, risking life and limb to fight cultists, lunatics, and fanatics, perhaps dying silently in a sewer one day. This is our meaningless, insignificant, bug-like existence… there can be nothing worse.”
Perhaps there is. At some point, a group of outsiders appeared in the city. Their speech and conduct are not like those of normal people; they disregard life, morality, and even the Kingdom’s laws. For profit, they will do anything and fear no death.
It is said that even the renowned “Iron-blooded Flint” among the “cleaners” died at the hands of these outsiders. The Disciplinary Bureau has sent people to negotiate with them, and perhaps soon, those people will replace him and become even more notorious executioners.
“Who would have thought that even the stray dogs bred by the officials would eventually be replaced?”
Edward watched the drizzling cold rain outside and sighed as usual.
The sound of a door opening came from outside, but he heard no footsteps. A scent, akin to violets, began to spread in the small Room.
“You are Edward?”
A vague and obscured voice suddenly sounded.
Edward turned his head and saw an exceptionally tall figure, entirely covered in a black robe. He was at least two and a half meters tall, a height difficult for even elves or Dwarfs to achieve.
High Mountain Race? Or some other kind?
“I am.” He felt his voice was more numb than ever before.
“I heard you are a Werewolf. Or rather… a Transcendent Hunter on the path of the wild hunt.”
The voice and figure were both so ambiguous and indistinct, like shadows in a low light environment. The body hidden beneath the black robe was slippery and viscous like a reptile’s, and the cold, pungent smell filling the air grew increasingly dense and viscous.
“Who introduced you? Never mind… it’s probably those loose-mouthed mongrels again. Speak, what is it?”
“I need you to find someone.”
Find someone?
Edward suddenly felt an urge to laugh.
“You want a butcher to find someone? Or do you want me to kill that person.”
“If you wish, you can try, but I advise you not to… ” He seemed to chuckle, as if mocking Edward’s overestimation of himself, but it was perhaps Edward’s own illusion. “He is a Transcendent of unknown lineage and unknown path. In terms of strength alone, not even the entirety of Leicester can find someone comparable to him. Around three in the morning tomorrow, he will appear at Leicester’s Black Raven Port, carrying a black package. His scent is very similar to mine. I want you to find him and bring me the package.”
Edward froze for a long time. No one in all of Leicester could be compared to the other person? What level of Transcendent was that? Or was it just the mad ramblings of the strange person before him?
He carefully considered the feasibility and safety of the matter, rather than it being a malicious joke.
Black Raven Port was once used as a military port during wartime. It was decommissioned five years ago and is no longer in use. However, there have been rumors in secret that the Disciplinary Bureau uses that port to transport some forbidden items that cannot be known or understood by people.
“You’re not asking me to steal from the Disciplinary Bureau, are you? I’m a stray dog, not a wolf.”
“When you find him, give him this, and he will understand.”
He handed Edward a badge, or something similar. The badge was made of something like obsidian, and the pattern on it was a cluster of distorted white lines, its meaning unclear.
Edward stared at it for only two seconds before feeling a nauseating sensation, as if his stomach were slowly constricting.
“I need to confirm the legality and safety of this matter…”
“Stray dogs care about this?”
The other party’s mockery could not yet anger Edward. He took a deep breath.
“I want more money.”
“Heh.” The other party’s indistinct, hoarse voice was extremely grating, but his next action undoubtedly made Edward’s heart stop. He reached into the black robe and pulled out a Banknote of an unusually large amount. The front of the Banknote featured the Queen of Arthur, Her Most Exalted Majesty, Queen Elizabeth. “A thousand Golden Lists. If you bring back the item, all these Golden Lists will be yours.”
What kind of difficult matter deserves such a lavish Reward?
Edward licked his dry lips, forcefully suppressing his restless desires and greed.
What does a thousand Golden Lists mean in Leicester? He didn’t even need to think about it. This money would be enough to make him one of the most affluent people in Leicester, enough to buy any house in the city center, enough to completely shed his identity as a stray dog…
But, why.
Why would such a windfall fall into his lap? Edward had to admit that he was a greedy, unscrupulous, and unlearned wretch, but he also knew that nothing falls from the sky. There was a saying he often heard people chant.
What was it? All the gifts of destiny are already secretly marked with a price.
Was that price something he could afford?
Edward didn’t know. All he knew now was one thing.
His family was currently huddled in a dilapidated house in the Old Town, enduring hunger and dampness. His six-year-old Daughter had fallen seriously ill due to the incessant rain in Leicester and urgently needed money for treatment. And the Disciplinary Bureau, which should have provided this money, was considering whether to kick him out and let more Cold Blood, cruel outsiders take his place as an executioner.
If he really lost this job… the consequences were unimaginable.
“I need this money,” he said with certainty. “If you can guarantee the legality and safety of this matter, then… I accept.”
