Gun of Ashes

Accompanied by their breathing, the heavy sound of filters rose in the carriage.

Not only that, an even deeper breathing sounded outside the windows, layers of water vapor surging past and leaving fine droplets on the glass, only to be quickly dragged away by the howling wind.

The Armor of Original Sin remained in standby, quietly half-kneeling in the front car. They carried all kinds of weapons, like a silent legion.

Eve could clearly sense all of this, feeling a little at a loss. Her gaze couldn’t help but sweep around the carriage, the corner of her eye fixed on the Cleaners.

It wasn’t that she had never seen these guys before, but thinking back carefully, this seemed to be the first time Eve had seen these Cleaners from so close, and in broad daylight.

They almost never spoke, communicating solely through hand signals, and they never removed their masks. It was as if all the Cleaners looked exactly the same, keeping absolute secrecy, sealing away all information related to themselves.

Then her gaze dropped further back, to those even more special passengers.

Arthur looked at these special passengers and continued speaking.

"No one is truly immortal; sooner or later they’ll need a successor."

The edge of his vision swept over the last row of seats in the carriage. Arthur seemed to see someone there and gave a helpless little smile. "Of course, there might be exceptions. I always felt a bastard like him could live at least a few hundred years."

Eve also tried to look toward the guy sitting in the very back, but he was in a blind spot from her angle. From where she sat, she could only vaguely see the sword sheaths leaning against the side, and the firearms.

This guy was fully armed, as if he were about to join some imminent final battle. He didn’t know when any of this would begin, so he could only keep himself armed at all times.

It was said that after he returned from the Silent Sea, he became like this—either holed up motionless in his office, or fully armed as he walked into the night.

Soft snores began to rise. Eve looked away, followed Arthur’s line of sight, and found the person he’d been talking about.

"You mean, she’s his successor?"

"In Oscar’s own words, that’s how it is," Arthur said helplessly, casting a glance at the guy snoring away by the window. "He says he spent his whole life pouring his energy into writing, only to end up so broke he needed the mob to help him publish his books. When he finally woke up from the worlds in his stories, he discovered he’d grown old like this."

"No family, no children, hardly any friends."

Arthur let out a long sigh, as if he could see straight through to the bleakness behind that smiling face.

"He’s a lousy writer and an unqualified Nation-Builder. The only thing he can still do with the rest of his life is to let the mission be passed on, instead of ending in his hands. If he can’t even manage that, then his life has been a complete failure."

Under Arthur’s gaze, Oscar leaned against the window, snoring away. It was hard to say whether one should admire his mentality or simply accept that this was just the kind of person he was—so broad-hearted that even under this crushing pressure, he actually fell asleep, and slept soundly at that. Next to Oscar sat another familiar figure.

Selyu leaned against Oscar, head lowered as she looked at the book in her hands.

Unlike the curious and restless Eve, Selyu seemed very quiet, as though nothing around her could affect her.

Eve withdrew her gaze and couldn’t help saying,

"Rather than a successor, I feel like he’s looking for a nursing home for himself. The Stuart family has more than enough money to let Oscar die in comfort."

"Not only that, the Stuart family will also help promote Oscar’s works. Who knows, in a while, the streets of Old Dunling might be plastered with posters of his new book," Arthur said.

At this point, his expression turned a little dejected, then quickly grew serious.

"...Provided we can wrest the future from the hands of the Death God."

"So the rules and all that... we don’t really need to care anymore?"

Eve mused aloud.

The carriage was filled with familiar people. They held different positions, representing different forces, and on this day they had all been summoned together to board the train leaving Old Dunling.

Eve felt as if heavy rain clouds were drawing close; even her breathing became uncomfortable. She tried to recall and then, in horror, realized she had no memory of what came before.

She couldn’t remember anything from before boarding the train.

Eve’s pupils stared straight at Arthur, then slowly shifted to the others. She was beginning to sense how strange this all was.

The people before her were almost never seen together at the same time, yet now they were all on the same train. Not to mention that Eve couldn’t recall her previous memories at all; she had no idea how she had boarded this train.

"Don’t panic, you weren’t attacked by a Demon."

Arthur had noticed the change in Eve’s expression, and judging from his reaction, this seemed to be within his expectations.

"I thought you’d only notice all this when we got off."

"What’s going on?"

"A meeting. A meeting involving a lot of people," Arthur said with a smile, lightly brushing Eve’s forehead. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to the Cleaners’ methods someday. But they usually only do this in emergencies."

Listening to Arthur’s inexplicable words, Eve looked at the silent Soldiers beside her and understood the reason.

"Anti-Meme..."

Eve whispered. People like them had been gathered by the Cleaners, so what kind of meeting could require them to go this far?

Suddenly, the train stopped. It had reached its destination. The doors opened, and a cold wind blew in.

Everyone remained silent, with no communication between them. One after another, they stood up and left the carriage. When Eve stepped out, she saw several buildings rising abruptly from the desolate landscape, and farther out on the sea, a giant ship was moored, scarlet flags fluttering atop it.

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