Chooo-Chooo
A train whistle resounded along the station as it came to a halt. The train was a hulking behemoth carrying atleast 20 carriges.
Dressed in a white linen shirt and black trousers, shinji slowly took his first steps on the station of the capital of the Loen Kingdom Backlund.
Although he couldn't find anything valuable information about backlund from the memories or the journal, he didn't really need to as Edessak his companion on the way had given a brief description of the City.
This city was divided into two regions by the Tussock River which flowed to the southeast. The two lands were connected by the Backlund Bridge and ferries, with a population exceeding five million people.
Even looking around shinji could easily see a smoky air. Edessak did say that Backlund was on of the most Polluted city on the Northern continent.
"So Mr. Holmes this were we part. I will send the money for you helping me either straight to you or you can come at this address." Edessak said as he handed Shinji a note with a address and his signature.
Nodding to the man shinji quickly walked away. Shinji strolled through the damp and dull streets of Backlund, his footsteps echoing on the cobbled paths. The city's perpetual rainfall seemed to cast a somber veil over the atmosphere, saturating the air with a sense of melancholy. Gray clouds loomed overhead, obscuring any trace of sunlight and adding to the city's overall dreariness.
As he made his way through the mist-laden streets, Shinji's search for an affordable inn became a quest for a sanctuary amidst the dampness. The flickering gas lamps cast a soft glow on the cobblestones, guiding his path through the labyrinthine alleys. The worn stones, smoothed and weathered by countless footsteps, whispered stories of the city's rich history.
His keen eyes scanned the buildings, hoping to spot a sign that would indicate an inn within his price range. Many of the structures displayed faded paint and peeling wallpaper, their dilapidated state mirroring the city's economic struggles. Yet, nestled among them, he noticed a modest inn with a weathered sign swinging gently in the misty breeze.
Stepping into the inn, Shinji found himself transported to a Victorian steampunk wonderland. The interior was adorned with an eclectic mix of brass and copper fixtures, giving the space an industrial yet elegant ambiance. Gears and clockwork mechanisms adorned the walls, their polished surfaces gleaming in the warm glow of gas-powered lamps.
The innkeeper, an elderly woman with a twinkle in her eye, greeted Shinji with a knowing smile. Her clothing what one would find a average person from the Victorian era.
In the dimly lit inn, Shinji approached the counter where an aged innkeeper stood, her eyes shining with a hint of mischief and wisdom. He straightened his back, ready to embark on the delicate art of negotiation.
"Good day, madam," Shinji began, his voice resonating with a tone of polite formality. "I find myself in need of a room for the duration of my stay in this esteemed establishment. Pray, might you enlighten me as to the price?" He completed with his attempt to copy the mannerism of Sherlock Holmes that he had read.
The innkeeper's lips curled into a wry smile, hinting at her anticipation of the forthcoming exchange. She leaned slightly on the counter, her posture betraying years of experience and a shrewd sense of business.
"Well, well, young sir," she responded, her voice carrying a touch of whimsy. "You've come to the right place but to stay you must pay."
Shinji nodded, acknowledging the innkeeper's words. "Indeed, madam," he concurred, his eyes glinting with intelligence.
The women said. "Indeed, Sir. I propose a weekly rate of 4 soli 3 pence, considering my current circumstances. This figure, I believe, offers fair remuneration for the privilege of residing within my distinguished establishment."
Shinji's eyes narrowed as he mulled over the proposition. He weighed the potential benefits against the perceived loss, his mind calculating the equilibrium point that would satisfy both parties
Although he didn't know much about the currency at first but learned it on the train ride here. 1 pound equaled 20 soli so at the moment he didn't have a place to stay. Nodding his head he handed the old women a pound and signed in for two weeks under the name of Arthur boyle so that no one could follow him.
Shinji's lips curved into a satisfied smile as he extended his hand, sealing their accord. "A most amicable agreement, madam. Your sagacity and understanding are truly commendable. I assure you, I shall fulfill my obligations diligently, proving myself a worthy tenant of your esteemed inn"
The innkeeper clasped his hand firmly, her gaze conveying a mixture of respect and anticipation. "I trust in your words, young man. Welcome, then."
Their handshake marked the conclusion of their transaction, a meeting of minds within the inn's storied walls. As Shinji received the key to his room.
...
Shinji, gazing around his small yet cozy room within the inn, couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him. The dim light filtered through the curtains, casting a tranquil ambience over the space. As he settled into a comfortable armchair, his mind began to wander, contemplating the unique qualities of this establishment.
Shinji, reclining in his chair within the confines of his modest room, couldn't help but smirk with a touch of arrogance. His gaze swept across the unassuming space, appreciating its smaller scale and the absence of any bothersome requirements.
"Well, well," he murmured, a hint of superiority lacing his words. "This place suits me quite well, doesn't it? No need for identification, no prying eyes delving into my affairs."
Shinji's gaze drifted toward the window, observing the gentle raindrops cascading down the glass pane. The pitter-patter of the rain created a soothing melody, encapsulating the secrecy and tranquility of his chosen abode.
Sitting at a small writing desk within his secluded room, Shinji's mind raced with the possibilities that lay before him. The air of arrogance that had enveloped him began to give way to a focused determination as he contemplated his next moves.
"I must craft a new identity, one that will grant me access to realms previously unattainable." he murmured, his voice tinged with a hint of excitement.
Pulling out a notebook and a pen. He began to write his plan down in Japanese. With each stroke of his pen a plan began to take a form. bringing Shinji one step closer to the realm of the elusive Beyonders. The very thought of their enigmatic existence fueled his curiosity, igniting a thirst for knowledge that could only be quenched through tireless investigation.
"Ah, the Beyonders," he mused, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. " I must probably find more information about them. Because I am sure I pissed one of."
As he carefully placed the pen down, Shinji's focus shifted to another pressing matter—a stable source of income. His aspirations demanded not only knowledge but also resources, for genius alone could not sustain him in his endeavors.
"I shall turn my attention to finding a suitable occupation," he declared, a determined edge creeping into his voice.
With that, Shinji opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the path that lay ahead.