Where there is light, darkness is born.
Before the Lower City District appeared, the sins of Old Dunling lurked in every shadowy corner. No matter how many soldiers the Iron Serpent carried, no matter how many corpses were thrown into the Thames River, nothing changed at all.
The upward-reaching Steam Tower pierced the clouds with the world's most advanced technology, while the darkest sins fermented in the mist below. Until the emergence of the Lower City District, these unvented sins finally found a place to release; all these dark entities gathered in that filthy area, and Old Dunling lived in a facade of sanctity.
The Lower City District is so unique, one cannot help but feel its mystery.
Due to the uniqueness of the Lower City District, there are several unwritten rules at Suyalan Hall, one of which is that officers are prohibited from entering the Lower City District. Those desperadoes there don't care about their lives; for a certain amount of money, they would readily kill any officer who enters recklessly.
The mounted police dared not go in recklessly; they were waiting for further instructions.
Lorenzo, among them, felt quite uneasy. Clearly, these people came for those suspects. It was a perfect coordination; no matter how much chaos they caused in the Outer City District to cover their tracks, once inside the Lower City District, with so many desperadoes watching, the mounted police could only let them go.
Originally, everyone was just at a stalemate, but from the moment Eve killed that gang member, a shootout was imminent.
"Run!"
The situation was urgent, and Lorenzo could only shout this brief command, followed by the piercing sound of gunfire.
The gang began to open fire, with a chaotic mix of firearms, most of which were homemade, firing bullets in all directions.
Eve made a swift dive to roll behind the wreck of the Iron Serpent, her ears filled with the sound of metal clashing, tearing at her eardrums.
Lorenzo had already taken cover behind the Iron Serpent before her; he was a man of action whose words always followed his deeds.
"What do we do now?"
The young detective was clearly panicked; she hadn't expected her first day on duty to be this thrilling.
"Wait, when I tell you to run, run! Understand?"
Lorenzo shouted, trying to make his voice clear above the gunfire. Eve was still useful to him; he couldn't just let Eve die.
Pointing to the line of mounted police at the back, Lorenzo shouted to her.
"Run there, you're a detective, they won't let you die. As long as you cross that line, these thugs won't dare touch you!"
This was also one of the rules: people from the Lower City District were not allowed to enter the Outer City District. In Old Dunling's eyes, they were nothing but a group of stowaways; by law, any detective had the right to shoot any unauthorized intruder from the Lower City District.
Chaotic yet bound by iron rules.
Bola had mentioned all this before, the Lower City District exists only because Old Dunling needs it. Old Dunling is a huge, crazy city; it's prosperous and beautiful, but there is always some trash that needs to be dumped. In the past, it was dumped in every corner, but now it is concentrated in the Lower City District.
A trash bin.
Bola always described the land he ruled in this manner.
Eyes as gray-blue held many secrets; Lorenzo was a man entwined with mysteries.
"Run, girl!"
He slapped her on the back, feeling the softness of the girl just in time, as Lorenzo stepped out with his shotgun.
Pulling the trigger, it was like a starting gun.
Eve unwittingly started to believe everything Lorenzo said. As he stepped out with his gun, Eve ran backward; gunfire and police whistles, a new wave of chaos began.
The bullet pierced through the skull, shattered fragments took down several others nearby, blood splattered, vibrant and fierce.
The thugs, holding their homemade weapons, surged forward. Although their orders were merely to prevent the mounted police's pursuit, now someone had died, and they had to make Lorenzo and Eve pay the price.
A rusty blade swung over; Lorenzo barely dodged, then Winchester roared and tore his upper body apart.
They were not Wol, without undergoing that strange transformation, ordinary flesh and blood could not withstand this shot... After all, this weapon was not originally designed for killing humans.
It was a familiar and thrilling feeling, the unique smell of blood permeating the filthy streets, as if waking him up, making his blood boil.
The gunfire continued.
Lorenzo was never a good person, a conclusion he reached after many nights of contemplation, so he showed no mercy in his actions.
The continuous whistling echoed together, it was a special iron whistle made by Suyalan Hall, capable of producing different frequencies of scales. In emergencies, the mounted police mostly used it for communication, like a simple Morse code, with several different whistles able to quickly convey important messages.
They were communicating, exchanging frequently.
Lorenzo had spent a long time learning this secret communication method; although he couldn't fully decipher it, he could barely understand some simple commands from the iron whistle now.
After a series of rapid short whistles, a long one followed, Lorenzo blasted the head of the strong man in front of him, then felt some pressure.
He understood the meaning of that whistle, the subsequent mounted police were about to arrive.
...
Pres gripped the reins tightly, a face full of worry against the fierce wind.
He was following the subsequent mounted police rapidly heading towards the Lower City District. Pres wasn't concerned about the case at this moment; more important than the case was Eve.
Just as Lorenzo said, Eve is a noble. As a seasoned detective, Pres was ordered to bring along such a newcomer, which highlights Eve's extraordinary status.
Eve cannot die. If she dies, those damned nobles will skin him alive.
Of course, Pres has greater worries in his heart, concerning Lorenzo.
He always felt like he had seen that damned detective somewhere before. After much thought, a familiar figure gradually materialized before him, just thinking about it made him shiver.
Pres couldn't confirm his suspicions, but he couldn't deceive himself either. The rifle had already been loaded and hung by his side, with a loaded revolver in his waistband, feeling as if he were heading into battle.
After all, he was about to face one of the anomalies in the Lower City District, and it couldn't hurt to be prepared.
Even to this day, Pres felt it was the most vicious case he had ever encountered. Blood soaked the ground in the fog, bodies and blood filled the Thames River.
Pres would never forget that figure, one of the key figures in the Red River Tragedy, Bola's Iron Thorns.
A rough hand slowly picked up the rifle; from a distance, he could already see the mounted police blocking the way. Pres understood, it was about to happen.
He clamped the iron whistle between his lips, a loud, piercing tone cut through the red twilight.
As the whistle sounded, the mounted police, who had been watching coldly, all raised their guns, forming a wall of death with their black muzzles.
The roar of bullets filled the air; from the moment Eve started running, she never looked back. She didn't even know why she trusted Lorenzo, but as if following her instincts, she obeyed and lived to this point.
The afterglow of the setting sun spread from the horizon, casting everything in a scarlet light. Eve couldn't see the faces of the mounted police; their backs were to the sunset, appearing as black silhouettes.
After the whistle, the gunfire erupted together.
For a moment, Eve thought she was going to die, but the bullets whisked past her, striking the chaotic center. Then, the mounted police began to move forward, their tall war horses sweeping past her and advancing toward the filthy place.
"Eve!"
Suddenly, someone was calling her, a dark shadow ran through the afterglow to her side.
"Officer Pres!"
Seeing that familiar face, Eve finally heaved a sigh of relief, but immediately realized something was wrong. So much had happened suddenly, and she was sure she wouldn't escape reprimand.
"Fall back, you can't be involved in this now."
Pres's face was serious as he gripped his rifle. Although he was talking to Eve, his gaze was fixed ahead.
"I..."
Eve wanted to say something but was immediately interrupted by Pres.
"That person might be Iron Thorns, something a rookie like you can't be involved with, get out of the way!"
Iron Thorns?
It was as if something had been triggered; Eve seemed to remember this term, but she couldn't recall what it was for the moment. Then Pres moved past her, raised his rifle, and sparks flew from the gun's muzzle.
No matter how savage the thugs were, they were weak in the face of the regular army's firepower. The battle ended quickly, the entire area was cleared, and all the arrested thugs were tied up on the side.
This incident had a larger impact than anyone had imagined. Victoria Central Hospital suffered a fire, steam trams derailed, followed by a shootout.
Night had fallen, and the gigantic Zeppelin Airship roamed the sky, then cast its light down, adding brightness to the dark area.
Pres rode on horseback, tightening his grip on his gun, scanning back and forth among the arrested thugs.
"Did you find him?"
Another mounted officer slowly approached, speaking to Pres.
"No... Sheriff Donas."
There was some disappointment and self-reproach in Pres's eyes.
"I'm sorry for mobilizing so many officers just because of my intuition."
"It's okay, mobilizing police for such a big firefight is normal, it's just a pity we thought we'd catch Iron Thorns." Sheriff Donas said slowly.
"But Pres, according to our intelligence, Iron Thorns disappeared after the Red River Tragedy. Some say he died in that case, but we never found his body. Others say Bola sent him out of Ingwig."
"He's still here, I always had that feeling."
Pres was firm in response to the sheriff's doubts.
After a brief silence, the sheriff still expressed faith in Pres's intuition.
"Then why would he appear this time?"
Sheriff Donas didn't quite understand. For so many years, the Red River Tragedy had always been a dark cloud over Suyalan Hall, overshadowing their so-called honor. Suyalan Hall never gave up the pursuit of Iron Thorns, but always came up empty, destined to be forgotten, yet now he was back.
"I don't know, Sheriff, but I've always had this feeling." Pres's usual laziness was gone, replaced by unprecedented seriousness.
"He's always been in Old Dunling; he's just too cunning. Even if he walks right in front of us, no one can notice."