Chapter 406: Chapter 410: Misty Panic Chapter 406: Chapter 410: Misty Panic The click of the switch echoed continuously in the secret room, the metallic spring vibrating rhythmically as it connected and disconnected, sending invisible signals to the rooftop–and from there, antennas cunningly disguised as weather vanes broadcast them. Messages from the Mist Fleet would likewise find their way into this chamber, transforming into the click-clack of the relays and a series of neatly punched holes on the ticker tape.
Nemo sat at the table wearing headphones, restlessly tapping his fingers on the surface as he listened to the sounds within. A young girl dressed as a waitress stood beside him, deciphering the round holes on the paper tape that had just been fed out of the punch machine.
After a while, Nemo yanked off the headphones and leaned back in his chair, massaging his eyebrows and letting out a long sigh.
“Captain Tirian has begun engaging the strange fleet that appeared out of the mist. The situation with the Frost Navy is unclear for now, but it seems to be bad,” the young girl with the paper tape spoke softly, her tone tinged with nervousness, “And yet, not a whisper of it has been heard in the city…”
“The thick fog is cutting off civilian channels of communication, and residents in the coastal area won't know what's happening even if they hear the cannon fire. The City-State authorities must now maintain order within the city limits–widespread panic won't do the navy any favors,” Timor pinched the bridge of his nose, “What's the situation like outside on the streets? And in the store?”
“The Sheriff's troops have imposed martial law throughout the city; it's very quiet on the streets, but there seemed to be gunshots from far away a little earlier, and two steam mechs passed hurriedly heading north from Oak Street,” the young girl answered, “As for the store, we're currently okay, and we have enough fuel for the lighting, but…”
“But?”
“There are more than a dozen customers trapped here by the fog. The streets outside are now blockaded, and the Shelter is already full. They have nowhere to go, and fear is sure to build up among them over time.”
“…Well, we can't just throw them out onto the streets. Right now, the tavern is their makeshift Shelter, and kicking them out would definitely attract the attention of the Sheriffs and the Church,” Nemo shook his head, “I'll go up later to assess the situation.”
The words of this informant from the Mist Fleet had barely finished when a muffled murmur suddenly emerged from a corner of the room: “Charge again, charge again… They've broken through… Reinforcements have arrived…”
Nemo frowned immediately and stood up to look toward the source of the noise.
There was a bed there, upon which a slovenly old man laid in a stupor, his back hunched and clutching a large wrench that seemed to have come from nowhere, looking very uncomfortable in his rest.
“Old Ghost, Old Ghost,” Nemo walked over and patted the old man's shoulder, “Are you having a nightmare?”
The old man with the wrench slowly opened his eyes in his daze, and after several sluggish seconds, he finally spoke: “Who are you?”
“I'm Nemo,” Nemo Wilkins replied with a complicated expression, “What did you dream about?”
“Nemo… oh, Nemo, I remember now, you're the newcomer of the Queen's Guard… Hello, I'm the engineer of the Second Waterway… A dream? I didn't dream, I took a nap, just a nap… What time is it now? Should I go inspect the power pipes?”
“It's already the afternoon,” Nemo shook his head, “Forget about the power pipes for now. We've temporarily evacuated from that place; it's not safe anywhere right now. We need to stay put at the stronghold and wait for instructions–those are General Tirian's orders.”
“General Tirian…” Old Ghost's eyes became unfocused for a moment, then he seemed to snap back to clarity, hastily getting up from the bed, “Yes! Engineer Wilson receives the order! Stand by at the stronghold!”
Nemo's expression grew more complex, but he slowly stood upright and returned the military salute to the old man. Then he turned around and nodded at the young girl in the waitress uniform, “Stay here and look after Old Ghost. I'll go up to check on the situation.”
After giving his instructions, he left the secret room and returned to the tavern above ground through the hidden passage.
Within “The Golden Flute” tavern, a stifling and tense atmosphere filled the hall. The patrons trapped by the thick fog, the staff and waiters on duty at the tavern, nearly everyone's attention was fixated on the scene outside the display window–beyond which all that could be seen was the dense fog and the faintly discernible streets within it.
All city gas lights had been lit ahead of schedule, and the artificial lights barely held back the gloom brought by the eerie fog. However, they were insufficient to pierce through and clarify this chaotic world. Those dim orbs floated around in the fog like rootless water hyacinths, appearing just like a row of eyes floating above the streets.
Nemo emerged from the back kitchen door and approached the counter.
“What's the situation?” he asked the clerk behind the counter in a low voice.
“Everyone's on edge. We've lost all transportation and communication with the neighboring blocks; no one knows what the situation is elsewhere,” the clerk whispered back, “But fortunately, no one has cracked under pressure and run outside–no one wants to venture into the fog at this time.”
Nemo nodded slightly, “If there really are such fools, don't stop them, let them go. But once they step out of this door, even if they only stay in the fog for a second, they absolutely must not be allowed back in. From now on, exit is permitted but entry is not; anything that comes from the fog is to be presumed a malevolent spirit.”
The young clerk swallowed nervously and nodded vigorously, “Yes, manager.”
Just then, a strange buzzing sound suddenly emanated from the street, interrupting the exchange between Nemo and his subordinate.
“`
It sounded like some device had started up, interspersed with the rumblings of heavy machinery moving along the streets.
The people in the store grew restless for a moment, with some nervously approaching the window to look at the activity on the streets outside, where some caught sight of moving red lights through the fog and exclaimed in a hushed voice, “Steam-powered walkers… there are more walkers appearing!”
Nemo also walked towards the window, but as he had just made his way halfway there, the strange buzzing sound suddenly became sharp. Right after that, a slightly distorted loudspeaker voice came from outside the window–the broadcasting equipment carried on the steam-powered walkers making an announcement.
“Sss… Attention, all citizens… the Governor and church officials are working to restore order to the City-State… Frost is being affected by an unknown phenomenon, we are… a special reminder, please stay in your homes or safe shelter facilities, and for your safety, stay as far away as possible from all things that can produce mirror-like reflections around you, including but not limited to mirrors, water surfaces, and shiny metals…
“Emphasize once more, please stay away from all things that can produce mirror-like reflections around you, all things.
“Furthermore, if you find someone around you acting strangely, please immediately hide in a safe, separate space, and if possible, seek help from the person in charge at the shelter or from the nearest guardsman or law officer. Do not attack anyone you feel is suspicious rashly. Prioritize your own safety and isolation.
“If you feel there is something wrong with your own condition as well, please immediately hide in a safe, separate space, and avoid talking with others as much as possible…
“The above is a reminder from Governor Winston and experts from the Transcendent domain.
“Attention, all citizens…”
The broadcast faded away along with the red warning lights of the steam-powered walkers, disappearing into the thick fog.
Nemo looked up and saw pairs of anxious eyes around him.
But he quickly snapped to his senses.
“Get the cloth!” he shouted to the clerks and waiters, “Cover all the glass counters and mirrors!”
Everyone quickly caught on, and although the tension remained, the residents of the City-State clearly possessed basic knowledge and mental preparation for self-rescue in Transcendent disasters. The staff hurriedly fetched dust covers used after closing, and the customers who stayed in the store quickly helped out, covering everything within sight that might produce a mirror-like reflection with rapid speed.
Similar situations were unfolding in every corner of the Frost City-State.
The terror of the fog was engulfing the city.
In the dense mist, Agatha had returned to the grand cathedral.
She found Bishop Ivan, who had just finished his duties, in the resting room next to the great sanctuary.
The bishop had emerged from his regular resting “spirit coffin” and was donning the robes of an Archbishop, which Agatha remembered having not seen on Bishop Ivan for many years.
“Even my corpse has to get up and work,” the robed Bishop Ivan said, spreading his arms as he sat in a chair and addressing Agatha as she entered the room, “It's been so long since I've moved outside the coffin that I feel like I'm falling apart.”
“If you still have a body to 'fall apart,'” Agatha quipped, “how are things now?”
“Things, everyone is asking how things are–they're as bad as they can be,” the raspy, deep voice of Bishop Ivan emerged from beneath the bandages, “The counterfeits are attacking the city, the monsters that were lurking about have begun to show their heads. Just now, several cemeteries have been attacked, these temporary resting places for the dead seem to have been used by the enemy as 'portals' to the real world. The city hall also has news, gunshots have been heard on several streets in the Lower City District, and at sea, our fleet has already clashed with the things that have emerged from the waters.
“The full-scale attack has begun, but what's worse than the enemy's full-scale attack is that we still don't know the full extent of this disaster or conspiracy. Those heretics hiding in the shadows… how did they manage all this, and where are they hiding?”
Bishop Ivan spoke and then slowly raised his head, looking into Agatha's eyes.
“What did you find underground? From the look in your eyes, I guess you must have seen something.”
“I didn't find the den where those heretics are hiding, but I found… even more unsettling clues.”
Agatha took a gentle breath and after a pause, she slowly spoke–
“Our boiling gold mines seem to have been exhausted decades ago, perhaps even longer.”
Chapter end
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