Four Hundred Sixty-Fourth Observation
Iwig, Adria.
At noon, by a tranquil river in one of Adria’s canals, within the elegant city library, Dorothy sat in a corner along the river. Before her was a small table with a stack of books from Iwig that were part of the library’s collection. Although she had a book open before her, she wasn’t focused on reading its contents. Her thoughts were instead on the situation in Tivyán.
‘Taking into account the intelligence provided by Gregor and Adele, we now have a rough idea of where the bandits from Northern Ufeiga are located. They chose Blackwater Street in Tivyán. I never thought they would hide in such a place.’
Sitting in her spot, Dorothy looked out the window at the boats passing by and pondered. The bandits’ hideout being in the southern district wasn’t good news for her.
‘The southern and western districts of Tivyán are known for poor security and chaotic conditions. Blackwater Street is especially notorious. Without knowledge of Tivyán, no one would choose such a place to hide.
‘It’s unlikely that a group of newcomers could arrange for a local gang to help transport goods and choose the southern district as a hiding spot. It seems they must have someone familiar with Tivyán advising them. Or perhaps they directly killed a local criminal and summoned a spirit? Hmm… in a way, an Extraordinary Being of Silence can gather information quite easily…’
Dorothy pondered this, then quickly realized her current predicament: the bandits’ sudden relocation had weakened her intelligence network.
‘The police Gregor mobilized are from East Tivyán, and Adele’s base is also there. Now these bandits have moved to South Tivyán, so Gregor and Adele’s intelligence capabilities can’t keep up. I don’t have any influential contacts in the south… Finding people there will be very difficult.’
As she thought, her gaze shifted from the boats on the water to the open pages of “Navigation of the Literary Sea” on the table. On the page were Adele’s notes.
Not long ago, Adele had ordered her men to investigate Blackwater Street, searching for clues about five foreigners from Northern Ufeiga and a kidnapped person. But they found nothing. No one had seen foreigners recently entering Blackwater Street, and kidnapping incidents weren’t uncommon here. Adele didn’t have enough influence in the southern district to uncover deeper secrets.
‘Although we’re almost certain they’re in Blackwater Street, it’s not a small area and it’s chaotic. Choosing this place as a hideout shows they realize their kidnapping might attract official attention. With this awareness, they’ll be more cautious. Plus, Adele’s influence isn’t strong enough in the south to produce results.’
Analyzing Adele’s notes, Dorothy realized the bandits initially weren’t so careful because they planned a quick raid on the Boyle family, taking the golden scepter and leaving Tivyán immediately. They didn’t need to be overly secretive.
But the strength of Davis’s secret room caught them off guard. Reluctantly, they captured Nunut to unlock the room, forcing them to stay in Tivyán longer. Their actions changed from unnoticed to pursued, making them act more covertly.
‘It’s getting tricky. Those bandits are hiding in Blackwater Street, and neither Adele nor Gregor can find them right away… Spending time to search thoroughly would yield clues, but Nunut may not last long. I need to think of ways to find them quickly.’
Frowning, Dorothy felt troubled. If she were in Tivyán herself, her reconnaissance skills could easily cover a whole district.
‘My main reliance in Tivyán now is Gregor and Adele’s power. To find those bandits, the key is using their resources effectively.’
Leaning back in her chair, Dorothy bit the pen thoughtfully, when suddenly an inspiration struck her.
…
Pritt, Tivyán.
In the afternoon, on the streets of Tivyán’s southern district, a taxi stopped after a long journey. The door opened, and a young man stepped out, his shoes landing on the ground covered in black soot. Dressed in a suit and tie, he walked confidently from the carriage. After steadying himself, he took out some fare and handed it to the driver, who tipped his hat in gratitude before driving away.
Watching the carriage leave, Gregor, disguised as another young man, turned to look at the street ahead. He saw a side of Tivyán he had never witnessed before.
Under the gray sky, low, dilapidated buildings lined both sides of the road. Walls plastered with advertisements made the streets dirty. Narrow alleys, barely wide enough for two carriages, were filled with black, polluted water. The streets were covered with a thin layer of black sewage, a result of industrial waste leaking from nearby factories. This made the living environment here terrible and earned the area the name Blackwater Street.
Enduring the overwhelming stench, Gregor continued to observe. People, covered in dust, walked listlessly down the streets. Some carried heavy loads by hand. Dark alleys and watchful eyes lined the streets. At the end stood tall chimneys, spewing black smoke into the air.
“This looks worse than the lower district of Igewent. Is this really Tivyán?” Gregor muttered, recalling his first year in Igewent’s lower district, where he worked tirelessly in factories. He had seen similar places before, but the condition of Blackwater Street was even worse.
‘A place can be better or worse depending on its location… Is this Tivyán?’
Thinking of the comfortable life in the north, Gregor sighed. He then stepped forward into Blackwater Street.
Blackwater Street was not just one street but a large district. Even a brief tour took Gregor considerable time. By the time he had walked through, it was nearly dusk.
‘This is a big area. It has many dark alleys, complex terrain, and a lot of people. Hiding and running are easy here. Without any influence, finding someone would be extremely difficult…’
Gregor thought, glancing at his watch. Confirming the time, he walked towards the entrance of Blackwater Street, where he had arrived earlier. At the intersection, he surveyed the area and finally spotted a dark red carriage hidden in a corner. Beside it were several cargo wagons, their loads covered by canvas.
Seeing the carriage, Gregor approached. The driver noticed him and looked over.
“Excuse me… Is this for a performance?”
“Yes, sir. May I ask who you are?”
“I’m an invited actor playing the role of… butler.”
“Oh, I see… Please come aboard, sir. Everything you need is inside.”
The driver opened the door and helped Gregor in. Once inside, Gregor closed the door and found a neatly folded outfit.
Without hesitation, Gregor changed into the outfit—a well-tailored tuxedo with a bow tie, white gloves, the attire of a wealthy household’s butler.
Looking into the mirror, he adjusted his appearance. His face began to change, becoming older, his skin darker. His body grew taller with the sound of bones cracking. Soon, the youthful appearance was gone, replaced by a pale-haired, tall, dark-skinned old man with a mustache—Nunut’s image.
After completing the transformation, Gregor exited the carriage and addressed the waiting crowd.
“Let’s go, everyone. It’s time to distribute charity in the vast poor community of Blackwater Street. In the name of the Holy Mother, let us help these unfortunate people.”
“Yes, sir.”
Around the carriage, a group of people responded eagerly. The others pulled off the canvas covering the cargo, revealing food, clothing, and various supplies.
…
In Tivyán, the nobility and wealthy often performed charitable acts to show their benevolence, donating money to aid the poor. These funds usually went to charities and charitable funds, allowing donors to contribute indirectly.
However, much of the donated money rarely reached the needy. Often, it was embezzled or returned to the original donor. Money in charitable funds mostly benefited the donors rather than helping the poor.
Thus, true charity in Tivyán meant personally engaging with the lower classes, giving directly to those in need. Few did this, but there were exceptions, like the person currently distributing aid.
On the streets of Blackwater Street, a long line of carriages slowly advanced. People on both sides shouted slogans, drawing attention from passersby. As confused residents heard what was happening, their confusion turned to joy and surprise.
This was a charity convoy loaded with various supplies—food, clothing, books, medicine, and household items. The convoy announced that these items would be given away for free to the poor of Blackwater Street.
Initially, many doubted it was real, but seeing people actually receiving aid, they rushed forward, eager to claim their share. The convoy quickly became surrounded by a crowd clamoring for donations.
Word spread quickly, and soon the entire Blackwater Street was buzzing with excitement. The charity convoy became widely known, and residents from all over the area flocked to receive aid, thanking the Holy Mother and seeking their own blessings.
Many came seeking aid, but the convoy had sufficient personnel, each robust and capable of maintaining order. The poor were divided into lines, queuing to receive aid.
At the center of the distribution site, atop a truck visible to all, stood the leader of the charity event—an elderly butler with a foreign appearance, dressed in uniform. He directed the operation efficiently.
“Don’t rush! Form lines! Everyone will get something. This is a gift from my master to all of you. Do not push!”
The butler stood prominently, his loud voice ensuring everyone’s attention. Under his guidance and amidst the grateful voices of the poor, the charity event proceeded smoothly.
Amidst the bustling crowd, a woman in a cloak stood silently among the convoy.
Adele, disguised, navigated the crowd, using her abilities to sense the desires of those around her. She could passively perceive desires aimed at her, while those not targeting her required active investigation. Only by perceiving desires could she control them.
Desire, desire, endless desire… As Adele continuously sensed desires, she observed the hopes and gratitude of the lower class for better fortune and a better life. There were also twisted desires for direct theft, which she suppressed to maintain order.
As the charity continued, Adele sensed a discordant desire.
It was a thirst for knowledge, arising from shock, disbelief, and incomprehension. This intense curiosity usually indicated extreme confusion and a desperate need to understand a situation.
Upon sensing this desire, Adele paused in the crowd, shifting her gaze toward the source. She saw a figure in a cloak.
The cloaked figure, head high under a hood and mask, stared intently at the distant horizon, focusing on the butler leading the aid distribution.
‘That… that’s the butler! The Boyle family’s butler? Impossible! How could he be here? Wasn’t he bound by us? When did he escape? Why is he here now, distributing aid?! What’s going on?’
The man in the hood, standing still, gazed at the old butler with astonishment. He had only intended to confirm the cause of the unrest in Blackwater Street, not expecting such a shocking scene. His surprise turned to questions, which Adele discerned.
‘Seems like I’ve found him…’
Standing in the crowd, Adele’s lips curled into a smile.
