Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

After making an agreement with the two ghosts, Shard returned to the grass lawn in front of the entrance to the underground cemetery and waited.

He waited for over half an hour, there was a simple farewell ceremony in the underground cemetery and the guests who had come to the funeral all understood Old Mrs. Worsent's feelings.

While Shard stood under the tree, someone finally took the initiative to strike up a conversation with him. It was Old Mrs. Worsent's business partner, who owned a coal-processing factory in the southern part of the city.

Knowing Shard's identity, he inquired whether Shard could help handle some troublesome permit documents:

"To improve the air quality in the city, Tobesk recently imposed operational time slots on factories like ours that emit waste gases. Mr. Hamilton, do you know how much money this will cause me to lose?"

The middle-aged, tie-wearing fat businessman coughed, not for show, as his lungs seemed to truly be troubled:

"If you ask me, there is no evidence that the city's fog is harmful to people, nor that this dense fog causes illness. I even believe this 'industrial scent' might make the children stronger. Mr. Hamilton, I wouldn't let you help me for nothing."

He coughed again, his face turning beet red, his lungs sounding like a broken bellows.

Shard, of course, was short on money, but he wouldn't take such unscrupulous money, especially since he didn't have any connections to facilitate matters at City Hall. Thus, he tactfully declined the fat businessman's request, who seemed to think Shard scoffed at the offer because the payment wasn't enough, so he could only mutter under his breath as he walked away, quietly complaining about the "noble lords'" greed and shamelessness.

"There really are all kinds of people."

Shard thought, gaining a deeper understanding of the madness and ignorance of this era.

While waiting, the already overcast sky finally began to drizzle. The people on the lawn hurried back to the small chapel to wait, while Old Mrs. Worsent's servants stood in place with umbrellas, waiting for everyone to return.

The rain grew heavier, so when the Priest, the Tomb Guardian, and Mr. Worsent's relatives returned to the chapel, Mrs. Worsent merely offered a brief word of thanks before declaring the funeral over.

The guests dispersed. Old Mrs. Worsent and the Tomb Guardian stood beside the church pulpit, discussing matters related to the management of the tomb chamber, where she would also be laid to rest.

Meanwhile, the funeral's principal figure, Mr. Worsent's brother, Johns Worsent, stayed behind to chat with Shard. In fact, even if he hadn't approached Shard, Shard would have sought him out, as he needed a reason for his upcoming conversation with Old Mrs. Worsent.

Shard had no real connection with this middle-aged man, but the younger Worsent took Shard's status seriously, revealing in his words that he knew Shard was highly favored by Duchess Galina. Besides thanking Shard for his attendance that day, he also half-complained about his family affairs, seemingly to foster a closer relationship with Shard:

"Before this funeral, we hadn't contacted that woman for over a decade. Both father and mother always believed she was responsible for my brother's death. Even with her brother having died of illness, our family has never been willing to forgive her."

But to Shard, whether it was the man involved in the extramarital affair or the woman who committed manslaughter while drunk, both were at fault. Fortunately, it was someone else's family matter, and none of his concern, so he didn't need to bother judging it.

"This might also be a form of balance. I only need to watch, not to think."

Such thoughts bubbled up in Shard's mind.

As he echoed Mr. Johns Worsent's words, the two men exchanged business cards. Only then did Shard learn that this noble descendant, who hadn't inherited any title, not only owned his private properties but also held a position in the tax department at City Hall.

Since he still had to wait for his payment, Shard had every reason to stay. But as the rain grew heavier, he began to worry about how he should return home. He also wondered whether he had closed the windows at home and whether the rain might scare his cat.

The rainy season in Tobesk was quite intense, and such sudden downpours were actually quite common.

The humid air mixed with the smell of the soil wafted into the church from outside, chasing away the heat of the midsummer.

Seeing that Old Mrs. Worsent's conversation was still ongoing, Shard stood up from the bench and walked to the church entrance, watching the rainwater falling from the eaves, forming a curtain-like barrier in front of the church door. This heavy rain would at least cool down Tobesk for a while. The Outlander's first summer in this new world seemed not much different from summers back home.

When almost everyone had left, Old Mrs. Worsent and the Tomb Guardian finished their talk. She sat on the front bench of the church and spoke with Shard.

"I'm truly sorry for making you wait so long. We were just discussing post-mortem affairs and I got carried away talking with the Tomb Guardian here."

The elderly woman apologized with a slow voice, her laughter bringing all the wrinkles on her face together.

She gestured for a servant nearby to hand the payment to Shard, who thanked her as he took it. He pocketed the 20 Gold Pounds directly, while the Special Roder Card he toyed with in his hands:

[Southern Carsonrick Folklore: Moon Dance Festival], suit: Sun 4.

When this card is drawn, if holding a Moon Suit card and the total Points do not exceed 7, then if burst this round, the total points are adjusted to 1.

Apart from [Genesis: Silver Moon], among all the Special Roder Cards Shard had seen, this card's function was quite useful. With this card, one could boldly gamble with opponents, and even in scenarios with doubling down on bursts, it would cut the losses.

Shard had heard of the [Southern Carsonrick Folklore] series of Roder Cards from Baron Lavende; this series was issued over fifty years ago, and a single special card's price would definitely not be less than 70 Gold Pounds.
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"You are truly generous."

Shard put away the card and expressed his gratitude to his employer, his payment far exceeded his input.

"My husband used to like Roder Card as well; this was his collection, which didn't cost many Gold Pounds when he bought it. Rather than letting it be taken by those who would divide my estate after my death, I'd rather give it to someone young like you."

Old Mrs. Worsent said, her murky eyes seemingly recalling days of the past.

Meanwhile, the two ghosts beside Shard resumed their discussion about the Roder Card, causing Mr. Worsent, who already didn't have a great image in Shard's mind, to acquire an additional label of "liking gambling."

After securing the cards, Shard casually added:

"Speaking of which, that Mr. Johns Worsent just now, Mr. Worsent's brother, did exchange a few words with me."

"What did he say?"

The old lady asked alertly; Shard looked at the servants and guards standing nearby, so Mrs. Worsent told them to go and prepare umbrellas and the carriage for the return trip.

There were also some other people in the church, like the two young priests cleaning, and a priest watching the rain at the church entrance. But they were all quite far away, so Shard could speak confidently:

"He just said... sorry, I shouldn't be speaking of this, but it seems the Worsent Family believes that Mr. Worsent's death that year..."

He shook his head:

"I mean no offense, just that since we touched upon this matter, I thought I should tell you. They seem to believe that you and Mr. Mason conspired to murder Mr. Worsent."

The old lady sat expressionless:

"All these years, they have thought this way. Perhaps this resentment will only vanish once I enter the grave."

Shard glanced at the two ghosts who were listening intently:

"Mr. Johns Worsent mentioned to me that back then, besides pressuring Riddlevitch Field, Earl Worsent also hired a private detective for an investigation."

"But they obviously didn't find anything."

"Yes, but..."

Shard, while inwardly praising his own acting skills, looked around, then lowered his voice and said:

"But I just heard from Johns Worsent that he plans to hire a detective again to investigate what exactly you discovered behind the walls of the underground cellar. He seems to believe that there is some crucial evidence hidden behind those walls."

"Lord Hamilton, does he want to hire you?"

The old lady asked, using a respectful tone.

Shard nodded seriously:

"He didn't directly inquire about my willingness, he just has the intention. He thinks I can easily gain your trust, so I'm more suitable for the job than other detectives. But I don't do such things. My current range of operations only includes finding people, locating pets, marital investigations, delivery of messages through card games, transporting goods, and shopping proxy at Coldwater Port... You are my current client, I cannot damage your interests, so..."

He lowered his voice even more:

"If there really is any evidence, please make sure to hide it well."

"Lord Hamilton, I thought you would outright ask me whether there indeed was any so-called evidence."

Mrs. Worsent's voice rose slightly.

Shard shook his head:

"I am not swindling you pretending I didn't take the commission from the other side in order to extract so-called evidence. After all, this matter doesn't involve me, and besides, thirty years have passed since it happened, and you are almost 70 years old this year. Even if there is some so-called truth, what can it do?"

That was the honest truth; Shard just wanted to satisfy his curiosity, not send anyone to jail. Thirty years had passed, two of the concerned parties were dead, and moreover, the deceased himself was in the wrong for being unfaithful within marriage. If Shard had come across this case when it happened thirty years ago, he probably would have reported the so-called truth. But now, it was all meaningless.

"Yes, what can the truth achieve now?"

Old Mrs. Worsent said, then took a long sigh.

Shard patiently waited until the old lady spoke again:

"When I went to the underground cemetery earlier, I also visited my brother. It also has been so many years, truly so many years."

Mr. Mason, the ghost, looked at his sister with sad eyes.