Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Chapter 367 Lonely Person

Taking advantage of the deserted alley, Shard used an Arcane Technique to unlock the door. After entering the house, he first put on shoe covers and gloves, then adjusted his hat.

He then saw that the furniture and household items were all still there, presumably the landlord and the second-floor tenants would move back in after everything was settled.

"I knew it, if I wanted to be a master thief, ordinary people definitely couldn't stop me."

As he ascended the stairs, Shard thought to himself.

There were no issues on the first or second floors, and Shard didn't try to open anyone's doors, but simply took a walk around the corridor.@@@@

The "Echo of Blood" didn't reveal any strange traces, but the "Echo of the Past" did let Shard hear some interesting conversations.

Within the last 48 hours, the second-floor tenants had returned. The voices were of a man and a woman discussing the young person on the third floor.

They were just chatting as they descended the stairs, and the gist of it was that ever since the young student moved upstairs, strange noises could be heard late at night, leading them to believe that perhaps the death of Sar Hack might have been because an "Evil Spirit" had already been present.

Upon entering the third floor, Shard unlocked the door only to find that aside from the larger pieces of furniture, all signs of life had vanished.

Unlike the sealed windows on the first floor, the third floor just had closed windows, so the hazy sunlight could still filter in.

Shard's boots creaked on the somewhat damp floorboards as he walked. As he looked around the room, at the reminder from the woman's voice in his head, he turned and saw the Spirit standing at the bedroom doorway, avoiding the sunlight.

It wasn't an Evil Spirit, just a Spirit. The Spirit was almost completely transparent, and if it dared to stand in the light, Shard would have hardly been able to see its form. Judging by the facial features of the Spirit, this should be Sar Hack, who had lived here.

Shard saw him, and he saw Shard. At first, he thought it was just coincidence, but upon seeing Shard's steady gaze, the Spirit surprisingly looked behind him, confirming the door was closed:

"Can you see me?"

"Yes, I can see you."

Shard responded, his tone carrying a hint of regret. The spirit before him was very normal, a standard Spirit lingering in the area of death and not tainted by any elements. Thus, the tales of haunting here were true, but certainly had nothing to do with the Relic.

With that realization, a thought to turn around and leave briefly crossed his mind. However, Shard did not move, as he was also interested in the story of the Spirit.

It was only nine fifty in the morning; he had time to inquire about the stories that had once happened here.

"So, the mystical powers called Mysticism do exist in this world after all."

Perhaps because he hadn't been dead for long, the Spirit exhibited a level of intelligence close to that of a normal person.

"Are you Hack?"

Shard wanted to confirm, and the Spirit nodded, seeming pleased to be able to converse with someone:

"Yes, Sar Hack. I died here and then got stuck here. May I ask who you are..."

"MI6."

Shard flashed his ID, and the Spirit came to a realization:

"Oh, I know. Like in Court novels, the mystical MI6 indeed has Wizards who solve matters of witchcraft for the King!"

Of course, this statement was inaccurate. MI6 might employ Circle Sorcerers, but they were generally those who couldn't get by elsewhere, or were in dire need of money, not as he imagined.

But Shard did not correct him, and simply nodded:

Shard asked, shaking the book in his hand at the spirit.

"Not every night, just occasionally... I stayed behind, actually, to destroy these things, so I would walk around at night. No, you can take them away as well, just don't let anyone find out I've seen them."

The spirit said, expressionless.

"No problem, I'll take them with me and burn them."

Shard couldn't leave behind traces of his own visit to the house, so he wouldn't burn them there.

"Also, please burn the photographs in the wallet as well."

The spirit added. Shard opened the old black wallet to check. The so-called photographs were two very old family portraits with a countryside windmill in the background. The little boy in the pictures must be the very Sar Hack standing before him, but, judging by the time, the photographs must have been taken more than a decade ago.

"These are photos of me and my family, but they unfortunately passed away in the plague five years ago. Sir, take the three books away and burn the photos, and the money in the wallet is yours. That was the money I had saved for next year's tuition, which I no longer need."

"Don't you have friends? Who took care of your body?"

Shard asked in surprise as the spirit, increasingly transparent Sar Hack, shook his head:

"If I had friends, would I be looking at those magazines alone at home every night? My body was taken care of by the school, but now that I'm dead, there's no need to bother the people I know there for money. I've got three months' rent deposit with the landlord, give it to him as a gift. As for this money, about 20 pounds, sir, consider it a gift from me as thanks for helping me sort these things out."

It wasn't that a year's tuition was 20 pounds, but that was all he had managed to save so far.

The spirit's voice weakened bit by bit until Shard only heard his last sentence, indicating that he was leaving:

"Sir, I have no family, no friends, not even someone to go out with at night for fun, just alone, trying to change my life through studying. As an outlander, I'm glad someone could help me with my affairs... thank you."

He disappeared, and Shard, looking at the 20 pounds that had come into his hands so unexpectedly, felt not joy but surprise mixed with a bit of confusion:

"So, why did I come here? Isn't this telling me that outlanders with no one to rely on will eventually die alone, without even someone to inherit their belongings?"

Light from outside streamed into the room and fell on Shard's face, showing his astonished expression. Nothing else could disrupt his mood for the entire day quite like this.

[Outlander, don't you have someone who could inherit your belongings?]

The whispering voice asked in his ear.

"Are you talking about Mia?"

Shard looked at the wallet in his hand under the sunlight, as though the wallet was mocking him.

[I mean your friends. How could you think of that cat?]

She asked softly in his ear, leaving Shard speechless:

"I might be making money from it, but I shouldn't have taken this commission."

This matter involved a spirit, but it would have been fine even if left alone. Now that it was perfectly resolved, the impact on Shard's psyche was simply too great.

Having left the house and locked the door, Shard walked downstairs and used sorcery to ignite a fire, burning the two photographs as agreed.

As for the three books in his possession, since they were too large, he couldn't just burn them in the alley, so he planned to take them back and burn them. Only when he stepped out onto the street did he remember that he could have turned them into tiny toys, but by then, he was already on the street...

Shard sighed, carrying the three books and blending into the throngs of people with his head down, he merged into the misty streets of the morning.