Volume 3 - CH 2.2

Named Charles de Gilet Station after the then King of Sauville who built it in the middle of the previous century, the station in Saubreme was an extravagant and gigantic structure that showed how powerful this small kingdom was.

Ceilings fitted with glass. Magnificent pillars made of black bricks. Light from the bright, early-summer sun fell onto the whole station. A large round clock sat above the steel overpass connecting the platforms.

People looked as small as peas, constantly streaming across. When a train arrived, countless passengers disembarked and crossed the platform all at once. Porters in red uniforms carried passengers’ travel bags. A feathered bonnet on the head of a female passenger wobbled. A noble gentleman passed by, his expensive-looking walking stick that resembled an animal head clicking on the floor. A child tottered along, pulled by their mother.

A huge structure made of thick, sturdy glass and black iron. Luxurious and practical at the same time. An architectural style that had gained prominence in modern times. It seemed to symbolize the current state of Saubreme, a city that grew along a river. Home to the prestigious royal family, Saubreme was one of the top economic hubs in Europe, and a rapidly-developing industrial city, where the smell of iron and coal permeated the air.

“Jacqueline!” Inspector Blois shouted out of nowhere.

Kazuya jumped. When he turned around, he saw the inspector calling a young woman passing by on the platform. She was wearing a fine and stylish dress, the kind that would normally be worn by a more senior woman. Her straight brown hair, which lacked a bit of luster, was tied up in a simple bun.

The woman turned around and backed away, startled by the inspector’s hairdo.

When he got a good look on her face, Inspector Blois looked disappointed. “Sorry, I got the wrong person.”

The woman smiled and walked away.

“Who’s Jacqueline?” Kazuya asked.

The inspector pretended not to hear. He walked on, up the steel overpass and toward the big ticket gate. Walking in the same direction as him, Kazuya inclined his head, wondering what that was all about.

The inspector looked somewhat dejected. His pointy, drill-shaped hair was a little wilted.

As they exited Charles de Gilet Station, glaring sunlight shone on their faces, obscuring the city of Sauville for a moment. When their eyes finally adjusted, there was a huge intersection in front of the station, with horse-drawn carriages and shiny automobiles speeding around the bends without slowing down.

Windows lined both sides of the wide sidewalks. Gentlemen with their walking sticks and gorgeous ladies with parasols in their hands walked in and out of stores. The area in front of the station was packed with streets, stores, and tall buildings.

Kazuya’s eyes were drawn to one of the windows. It was a pipe shop, its signboard barely standing out among the glamorous stores. The window was lined with ceramic and iron pipes of various sizes, as well as pipe rests. A small, glittering women’s shoe, like a glass slipper, was on display. When he realized that it was a shoe-shaped pipe stand made of jade, he opened the door and asked the shopkeeper the price. It was affordable for Kazuya, who usually saved his allowance and avoided wasting money, so he bought it without hesitation.

“It’s for a girl, so please put a ribbon on it,” he said. “Oh, that red ribbon.”

The clerk looked at the pipe rest. “It’s for a girl?” he asked curiously.

Just as Kazuya happily exited the store, the door of the store next door also opened and out came Inspector Blois, who had shopped for something as well. He was in good spirits. The two looked at each other, and their faces turned grim.

The inspector glanced at the package in Kazuya’s hand, and snorted.

Kazuya looked at the inspector’s hand too. He was holding a rather expensive-looking, antique porcelain doll. It had curly blond hair and big eyes, and wrapped in a dress of laces. Kazuya frowned. The first time he went to the police station at the village, the inspector’s room was full of dolls like this one. He even put one on his lap.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” Kazuya said.

“Mind your own business, silly face.”

The inspector pointed to a towering brick building on the other side of the street. Several uniformed police officers were guarding the gate.

“I’m going to exhibit my brilliant intellect at the station now. See you later, Kujou.” Inspector Blois was about to walk away when he stopped, remembering something. He looked back at Kazuya. “Be careful,” he said.

“Be careful of what?”

“As you can see, Sauville has undergone rapid modernization in recent years. Roads have been improved, the number of tall buildings has increased dramatically, and tourists are pouring in from all over the place. But a bustling city means increased criminal activity.”

Kazuya looked around, and Inspector Blois frowned.

“Cities are terrifying. They can be glamorous and fascinating, but sometimes they open their big mouths and swallow up visitors. Then the city closes its mouth as if nothing happened, and those who were swallowed never come back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying it’s become much more dangerous here. Have you heard the rumors of those who vanished in the dark?”

“No…”

“Over the past few years, there has been a series of incidents in Saubreme where people suddenly disappear. Mostly young women and children. They disappear after a shopping trip to a department store, or on the way to the police station with a lost child. The pattern varies. The police department has received numerous complaints from the families of women who disappeared. I’m guessing some of them just ran away from home. Still, an unusual number of people are disappearing into the darkness of the city. You best be careful.”

“O-Okay…”

Kazuya suddenly remembered the book that Avril was carrying.

“A noblewoman enters a fitting room in a department store. But when the clerk opened the door, all that was left was a bloody head.”

“There’s a story about a beautifully-dressed little girl crying. People call out to her, thinking she’s lost, and then disappear. When they turn a corner, they’re gone, and only their clothes are left.”

“There’s also a murderer who dresses as a hobo. He hangs dead children’s bodies inside his old clothes.”

I bet the horror stories in that book were based on actual disappearances in Saubreme.

Inspector Blois took a pocket watch from his pocket and checked the time. “I’ll see you around, Kujou,” he said in a hurry.

He headed toward a large building—the Sauville Metropolitan Police Department. He seemed to be used to the city; he deftly crossed the street, weaving through the stream of carriages, and disappeared into the building.

After watching the inspector go, Kazuya started walking.

There were many buildings, carriages, automobiles, and people in Saubreme. It was truly crowded. Everyone was going too fast. Perhaps because it was still mid-morning, the people hurrying along the sidewalks to get somewhere were all dressed in simple, practical clothing. They probably worked for companies in the area. Occasionally, a noble in an extravagant attire or three-piece suit would disembark from a carriage and disappear into an upscale tailor’s shop or gallery. Tourists of various skin color passed by. They walked around with maps in their hands, pointing from place to place.

Homeless people clothed in rags lurked around every corner, holding out dirty tin cans to passersby and begging for coins. There were old men and women. Sometimes there would be a child younger than Kazuya. Sauville, with its long history and rapid development, was a place where people from all walks of life gathered. It was as if they lived their lives at different paces.

“Huh?”

Kazuya was nearing the Sauville royal palace. Only its round roof retained its medieval beauty in this modernized city.

The flag of Sauville fluttered in the square in front of the palace. Guards in gold and red uniforms, looking like toy soldiers, strutted along systematically. A scene you’d expect from Saubreme, home of the royal family and a tourist destination.

“I thought it was somewhere around here,” Kazuya muttered.

He looked around, searching for the luxury department store Jeantan, his destination. It should be a large building across from the palace square. When he opened his bag to pull out a map, he accidentally dropped his wallet. He managed to pick it up before it rolled onto the street, but his coins spilled out.

“Nine five seven,” said a small voice.

Kazuya, picking up the coins, looked to the direction of the voice. People passing by did not care about the coins that someone else had dropped. He frowned, wondering where the voice came from. Then in the shadows created by building decors, he saw a pair of glinting eyes.

“What is that?”

Kazuya stood up. A small figure with ominous dark eyes slowly emerged from the darkness

It was a child, only about ten years old, wearing dirty, ragged clothes. His toes stuck out of his sneakers. He had blue eyes, probably Caucasian, but he was so dirty that Kazuya could not make out the color of his hair or skin.

“The amount you dropped,” he said in a low voice. “I was watching.”

What a strange kid, Kazuya thought.

“If you were watching, you could have helped me.”

“If I helped out of the kindness of my heart, you would say that I pocketed some of the change and beat me up or hand me over to the cops. I vowed never to be nice to people.”

His dark eyes went to Kazuya’s hand. He was staring at it even when he wasn’t holding anything.

The child lifted his head. “Where are you headed? You don’t know the way, don’t you?”

“I’m looking for Jeantan. It’s supposed to be around here.”

“Not even close, you bumpkin. It’s a long walk from here. It’s kinda hard to explain. I can take you there if you want.”

“Really?”

“Give me a piece of paper.”

“Paper?”

The child stamped his foot and pointed to Kazuya’s wallet.

“The paper inside that thing. Give me one, and I’ll show you the way.”

“Ah…”

Kazuya hesitated at first, but decided that it would be cheaper than taking a horse-drawn carriage, so he handed the child one of the bills. With a surprisingly quick motion, the child snatched the bill and hid it somewhere in his ragged clothes like magic. He then backed away, covering his head with both arms, as though trying to block a hit, and pointed to a building on the other side of the sidewalk.

“It’s over there.”

“Huh?”

“That’s Jeantan. See you around, dumb Chinese boy.”

“Crap… He got me. Hey, wait!”

Kazuya tried to chase after him, but the child quickly retreated and disappeared behind a building. Upon checking, he saw a small hole that looked like a drainage ditch leading underground, just big enough for a small child to fit through.

“I’m not Chinese!” Kazuya screamed.

He pulled himself together and walked away. The building across the street was huge and made of bricks, shaped like an octagonal cylinder. He failed to notice it earlier, but it looked old and prestigious, decorated with octagonal flags that bore purple ribbons and the word Jeantan. Shoppers with shiny, purple paper bags were coming out of the building.

As soon as Kazuya tried to cross the street, something grabbed him by the ankle. A large, cold, dry hand, like that of the dead, gripped his ankle tightly and would not let go. Startled, Kazuya looked down.

It was an old woman dressed in layers of rags. Her hair stood back as if blown up by the wind, and her skin was dry and stained black. She was barefoot. She had black hair and black eyes.

Holding Kazuya’s ankle, the old woman cried in accented French, “My daughter was eaten!”

Kazuya gaped at the old woman in shock. The old woman stared back at him.

Inside her bulging ragged clothes were three pieces of what looked like rolled cloth swaying with the old woman’s movements. They all swung in different directions, and looked somewhat creepy. Kazuya suddenly recalled one of the stories that Avril had told him.

“There’s also a murderer who dresses as a hobo. He hangs dead children’s bodies inside his old clothes.”

No way, Kazuya thought. Still, it’s a stunningly accurate representation of the story.

“My daughter was eaten by that thing!” the woman shouted. Her trembling, blackened fingers pointed straight ahead—to Jeantan.

The octagonal building glittered under the early-summer sun.

Kazuya regarded the old woman.

She was about to say something else, when a young doorman at the entrance of Jeantan came running toward them. He kicked the old woman as hard as he could, cursing at her. The old woman let out a pitiful shriek and scrambled down the cobblestone street like a wild animal.

The doorman turned to the stunned Kazuya. “I apologize, sir,” he said. “That woman does that to all our customers.”

“Does she always do that?” Kazuya asked, still shocked.

“Every day. We get rid of her when we notice.”

Then that story must have been based on what’s happening in Saubreme. That old woman must be the model.

“We truly apologize for the trouble.” The young doorman led Kazuya into the octagonal brick building and opened the double glass door. “Welcome to Jeantan. There is nothing you can’t get here. Please, come in.”