Under the curtain of rain, the city was divided by countless desires into countless different faces. Lloyd walked through the streets beneath an umbrella he had taken from the Buscalo family. Along the roadside, shop doors stood open, spilling the sound of radios into the rain. Someone was singing, someone was discussing current affairs, someone else was forecasting the weather to come. All those disparate voices mingled together, transforming into a strangely pleasant melody that echoed through the falling rain.
He watched the pedestrians, their faces blurred beneath the veil of water. Each of them seemed like a solitary shadow moving forward, isolated from all the others by the downpour. The pleasant song continued, and someone on the radio speculated that the rainy season was finally nearing its end. Then cheerful drums broke into the melody.
The cool air allowed Lloyd to relax for once, if only slightly. Judging from her voice, the radio host was probably a beautiful young woman. She explained that, according to the traditional seasonal calendar of Old Dunling, the rainy season should end within the next week. Once it did, civilian airships would begin their first trial operations, and people would finally be able to purchase tickets and take to the skies together.
As Lloyd continued walking, the woman's voice gradually faded into the distance, until it was swallowed completely by the rain. Then another man's voice came from a nearby restaurant.
The man was analyzing the latest political developments. The delegation from the Viking nations had apparently enjoyed a pleasant conversation with Queen Victoria, and some people speculated that after this visit, a new and secure trade route would be established between Ingveld and the Viking nations.
There was something strange about it.
Lloyd began to understand what Oscar had meant.
As communications advanced, Old Dunling had become the source from which all kinds of modern communication technologies continued to spread outward. People could learn about events in another city through newspapers and radio, even hear news from another country. Places that had once seemed impossibly distant were now presented before everyone's eyes through the written word.
But the world existed beyond the doors, beyond the borders of nations. It did not exist within this city alone.
Nor should it exist upon sheets of paper.
For a fleeting moment, Lloyd actually felt tempted. He wanted to see what lay beyond Old Dunling—not because of the dangers that might await him there, but simply because some quiet desire deep within his heart had begun to stir.
The Iron Serpent slowly came to a halt beside a street sign. Lloyd boarded the carriage together with the other pedestrians. Old Dunling was enormous, and after years of continuous expansion, the Iron Serpent had become one of the city's primary means of transportation.
A faint sound rang out, almost like the snap of fingers, but it was quickly drowned beneath the Iron Serpent's thunderous roar. Lloyd grasped a handrail and squeezed himself among the crowded passengers.
The rain had begun falling heavily again, covering the windows with countless tiny droplets. From inside the carriage, the outside world appeared hazy and indistinct, while everyone within the carriage swayed gently with its movement along the rails.
As an Iron Serpent operating throughout the city, it was not bound to a single fixed route. If necessary, the controls inside the carriage could be used to divert it onto different tracks.
"Old Dunling really is something…"
A clear voice sounded beside him. It was difficult to tell whether the speaker was talking to himself or to Lloyd.
Lloyd turned his head and saw the passenger standing beside him. The man possessed a peculiar quality, like the warm light of the rising sun. Somehow, simply being around him made one feel at ease.
The man smiled at Lloyd as well, his lenses reflecting Lloyd's somewhat stern expression.
"I haven't been in Old Dunling for very long. Aside from the work I need to take care of, I enjoy riding the Iron Serpent around the city… It's a sight you simply can't find in my homeland."
The man began chatting with Lloyd as though they were old acquaintances. Surprisingly, Lloyd did not find the behavior particularly irritating. Instead, he found himself somewhat willing to talk with the stranger until his stop arrived.
"More or less. When I first came to Old Dunling, I felt the same way. This city seemed like a labyrinth that could never be fully explored. The Dunling Tower that reaches toward the heavens, the Pillar of the Furnace buried deep beneath the earth, the countless tunnels and steam pipes spreading across the land… It's truly beyond anything an ordinary person could imagine."
Lloyd tightened his grip around the handrail. The memories of those early days surfaced faintly in his mind. Back then, everything had been new to him.
"You've lived in Old Dunling for a long time, haven't you?" the man asked again. He was like a traveler visiting a foreign land, asking Lloyd about everything he saw.
"More or less."
"That's wonderful. Unfortunately, I can't stay here for long," the man said.
"Because you're here as a tourist?"
A traveler like that was destined to leave. They never stayed in one place for too long.
"Not exactly. I came here because of work, and because of a few personal interests of mine. Once everything is finished, I'll have to leave." The man gazed at every corner of the city, his eyes filled with unmistakable reluctance.
"This place is wonderful. No matter what kind of person you are, you can fit perfectly into this city. Even someone like me.
"Good people, bad people, foreigners… We can all find our own place here."
"We're similar, yet different."
The man continued, "Compared to this place, our homeland is terribly old and backward. It has room only for ignorant believers."
"'We'?"
Something clicked in Lloyd's mind. He looked at the man with hesitation.
"Florence, isn't it?"
The man said it casually.
The crowded, stuffy carriage fell silent in an instant.
Lloyd's hand slipped into the man's blind spot and closed tightly around the handle of his folding knife.
From the corner of his eye, the great detective surveyed the carriage. There were too many passengers, packed too closely together. Drawing his blade would be difficult, and if he did, there was a possibility that someone else might be injured.
Lloyd did not particularly care whether he accidentally hurt anyone. Whatever moral remorse came afterward could be dealt with in the dead of night, when no one was watching—not now.
His gaze turned cold.
After everything that had happened over the past few days, Lloyd felt that his vigilance had already reached its absolute limit.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Lloyd Holmes."
The man spoke amiably and extended his hand.
That approachable, friendly demeanor had now become a terrifying threat in Lloyd's eyes.
"Who are you?"
Lloyd gave no excessive reaction. He simply asked coldly.
"You may call me Moriarty."
Seeing Lloyd's expression, Moriarty withdrew his hand and turned his gaze toward the blurred world outside the window.
"The New Order?"
Lloyd asked.
He and Moriarty shared the same homeland—Florence. That was the only conclusion Lloyd could draw.
Moriarty did not bother to conceal it. He simply nodded.
"What are you planning to do?"
Lloyd could sense nothing unusual from him. The man felt exactly like an ordinary person. Yet now that Lloyd had seen through his disguise, a strange and inexplicable unease continued to circle within his heart, refusing to leave.
In truth, the question itself was almost pointless.
Lloyd knew perfectly well what the New Order wanted.
That illusory, mysterious object that even Lloyd himself did not fully understand—the False Holy Grail.
"The New Order is preparing to make its move against you. We will not allow the False Holy Grail to remain at large."
Moriarty did not answer Lloyd's question. Instead, he spoke of something else.
"So you came here just to tell me that? To warn me before you kill me? Sounds rather arrogant."
The Secret Blood stirred restlessly within Lloyd.
He stared intently at the man's face. The atmosphere was utterly calm, yet the pressure bearing down upon him was immense.
He had too many enemies.
The New Order.
The remnants of Lawrence hiding in the shadows.
The "curse" written by Shermans.
And the demons that refused to disappear.
It was as if the entire world had become his enemy.
And this time, the Purification Bureau was no longer a fortress he could rely upon.
He had only himself.
And the sword in his hand.
The Iron Serpent came to a halt.
It seemed almost as though it had stopped solely for Moriarty. None of the other passengers moved. Only Moriarty stepped off the carriage and stood on the platform, staring back at Lloyd through the open doors.
Steam billowed from the machinery.
The Iron Serpent was about to depart.
Moriarty held a black umbrella. He removed his glasses, then lifted the rainwater dripping from the edge of the umbrella and combed his hanging bangs backward, revealing a pale, spotless forehead.
"But there is one more thing, Mr. Lloyd Holmes. Serving the New Order is merely my job. So there's nothing I can do about this. After all, it's work."
For a fleeting moment, he seemed to become someone else entirely.
Without the glasses obscuring his eyes, his gaze was astonishingly clear. His amber irises seemed almost to glow, like treasures embedded within flesh.
But then the friendliness and serenity vanished.
His eyes sharpened like blades, carrying a hint of madness.
His smile gradually grew feverish, radiating a violent, almost feral insanity.
For an instant, Lloyd thought he saw himself reflected in the man.
The same madness.
The same anger.
A fire that continued to blaze without ever going out.
"They say you're a detective, and that you're particularly good at 'deception,' aren't you?"
Lloyd remained silent, tightening his grip around the folding knife.
"I happen to be quite good at 'deception' myself. Why don't we play a game, Mr. Lloyd Holmes?"
Moriarty's smile widened.
"Just you and me."
Suddenly, the rain came crashing down.
Moriarty's figure seemed like dye dissolving in water, vanishing in an instant beneath the relentless downpour.
Lloyd was about to get off the carriage and investigate, but at that exact moment, the Iron Serpent's doors suddenly slammed shut, trapping him inside.
"Moriarty…"
Lloyd whispered the name.
The Iron Serpent slowly began moving again, following the tracks and sending sprays of water flying into the air.
But the farther it traveled, the stronger that indescribable sense of wrongness became.
A strange terror pierced Lloyd's mind.
His face went pale.
Almost at the same instant, he flung open the folding knife, the sharp steel flashing like a bolt of lightning before settling firmly in his hand.
They were gone.
Every passenger was gone.
Lloyd stood alone in the empty carriage.
All the passengers who had crowded around him moments ago had vanished along with Moriarty.
"What… happened?"
Lloyd's expression darkened as the Secret Blood erupted at the same time, his supernatural authority descending upon his body.
Yet he could see nothing.
Every window was obscured by the torrential rain. Visibility had fallen to less than three meters.
At the same time, the entire carriage began shaking violently.
Amid the piercing wails and shrieks, countless hands emerged from behind the curtain of rain, pounding desperately against the windows. Through the blurred glass, countless twisted, monstrous faces could be seen.
Lloyd was surrounded.
Within the heart of Old Dunling, he had been surrounded by countless demons.
As a demon hunter, Lloyd had never feared demons.
What he feared was the unknown.
This bizarre sequence of events had unfolded far too quickly—so quickly that even Lloyd could not understand what was happening.
He had sensed no sign of corruption.
Yet in the blink of an eye, demons had appeared within his field of vision.
The windows shattered.
Hideous hands thrust through the broken glass. Like moths throwing themselves into a flame, they surged toward Lloyd one after another, relentless and ravenous.
The folding knife carved a pale arc of light through the air.
Every reaching arm was severed.
Blood mixed with rainwater, becoming a cold, foul-smelling stream that slid down the edge of the steel.
Thunder and rain merged into one deafening roar as the storm, driven by the howling wind, battered the city of steel.
It seemed as though the entire world had been drowned beneath the downpour. Pedestrians could barely remain standing in the streets as they desperately searched for somewhere to escape the rain.
Then a sharp cutting sound came from beyond the curtain of water.
From inside the carriage, the folding knife repeatedly pierced through the metal body, impaling one demon after another. Their corruption was not particularly strong. They were merely the most ordinary of demons, and Lloyd cut through them with ease.
The Iron Serpent raced wildly along the tracks.
Countless monstrous things clung to its steel exterior, hanging from it like barnacles.
Yet no one could see them.
The pedestrians hiding from the rain could only glimpse some indistinct shape rushing through the storm.
The howls and screams were swallowed by thunder.
Lloyd was so close to these ordinary people.
And yet that distance felt like the space between two entirely different worlds.
There seemed to be a voice rising from somewhere beyond the rain, but a far more violent impact tore it apart.
Under the demons' assault, the Iron Serpent derailed.
It rolled violently and crashed into the side of the street.
Steel was ripped apart beneath the brilliance of the blade.
Lloyd stood motionless, folding knife in hand, his senses stretched taut.
Behind the hazy curtain of rain, countless dark silhouettes slowly approached.
They bared sharp teeth and vicious claws. Fragments of human clothing still clung to their mutated bodies.
Only a few minutes ago, they had been ordinary human beings.
Now they had contracted the plague known as demonization and become these grotesque things.
"Demons. Demons. They really are never-ending…"
Blazing white fire erupted.
Even the howling wind and torrential rain could not extinguish it. The flames drove away the cold, and raindrops evaporated before they could even touch the ground, leaving behind a faint veil of steam.
Beneath it, Lloyd's eyes were like daylight rising from the darkness.
The folding knife, wreathed in flame, effortlessly cleaved through the bodies of the demons. Blood and rain were vaporized together by the fire, leaving the cold air saturated with a terrifying stench.
All the people outside could see was a brilliant light flashing through the curtain of rain, like lightning leaping across the earth.
At the other end of the rain curtain, Moriarty quietly watched the "real" world.
An eerie white fire burned within his eyes.
But soon, that pale flame faded.
He raised a hand and waved toward the place where the light had appeared.
"Have fun, Mr. Lloyd Holmes!"