Bailonz Street 13

His whisper left me unsure whether to laugh or cry. I must have worn an ambiguous expression, because the man, upon lifting his head slowly and seeing my face, smiled. Liam spoke soothingly.

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Another hand reached my cheek.

“That monster…,” I stammered.

“It’s dead. It was a bit difficult, but it’s dead.”

I wanted to ask how he killed it, whether it was related to his secrets. Though he might have guessed my question, he merely smiled softly. Seeing that smile… what could I say? It didn’t matter anymore. If it was something he didn’t want to reveal, I’d let it be.

I knew this world was strange. I had an inkling that this wasn’t the London I knew, nor the 19th century. Even when monsters from stories came to life, I thought, “Oh, it’s finally here.” My reason denied their existence, but my instincts knew.

This is real, Jane Osmond. This is reality.

Liam’s black hair was slightly dusted and clung to his forehead. His eyes, under delicate eyelashes, reflected only me. He was looking at me, and I was staring into his violet—

When I pulled his cheeks closer, Liam made a foolish noise. Wait a minute. Your eyes are strange.

“Your eyes…,” I started.

But perhaps it was my momentary illusion, for his eyes returned to the color I remembered. Like the London sky, a somber yet warm hue smiled back at me. They were somehow vibrant. Perhaps I even found them lovely.

Liam Moore opened his mouth and called my name.

“Jane.”

Simultaneously, the world shattered.

The world was melting away.

The surrounding scenery changed.

Like a curtain falling, like a theater emptying after a play’s end.

It all felt like a dream.

The veil that enveloped this place had long been lifted. Through the breaking fragments, a familiar train appeared.

The luxurious wallpaper and wainscoting were unscathed. The massive scars left by the monster’s tentacles vanished, and a gentle light shone as if nothing had happened. Although this seemed normal, it felt oddly out of place.

Then, what I had seen?

The windows weren’t broken. The monster’s traces seemed to have remained in that place. The train was quiet but brimming with life. The presence of living people was palpable.

Ah, we’re back. It finally felt like we had returned to what I knew. The recent events felt like a surreal experience, like a dreadful nightmare. Did that really happen? Was it my hallucination?

But the man still clinging to me, in a mess, grounded me in reality. Having someone who shared the same experience was a great comfort.

Suddenly, curious people appeared in the corridor, peering out. Some passengers even screamed upon seeing us.

I couldn’t grasp how to handle this chaotic situation. As I stood, dazed, looking at the completely changed, now normal train, Liam placed a hand on my shoulder. He gripped it once, then relaxed.

A low voice whispered comfort.

“It’s okay.”

Then he straightened up, no longer leaning on me. His demeanor was distinctly different from before.

When I first saw him, he seemed on the verge of committing murder. Now, how should I put it? The sharp aura surrounding him was gradually dissipating, becoming more serene. He felt like the person I once knew. Perhaps it was because I had never seen him so tense before. I wasn’t sure.

I looked at his disheveled appearance and reached out to smooth his hair.

Well, anyone would be shaken after seeing a monster. If someone remained mentally intact after that, they’d be more like Van Helsing than an ordinary person.

Now, the only thing I had to worry about was the cause of what happened to us.

Herschel soon approached, looking considerably tidier. Though he rotated his shoulders a few times, he seemed neither severely injured nor sprained. He lifted his hands, adjusting his hair to the left and right, then shook his coat once to rid it of remaining glass shards. His movements were as fluid as playing the piano.

However, despite his graceful demeanor, he was still not in the best condition. His clothes had holes, and there was a scratch on his prominent nose from a glass shard. A thin line marked his cheek. Considering the monster had thrown him, it was hard to say if the wound was big or small.

The glass shards on the floor glittered momentarily before dissolving into the air. Blinking, I asked.

“Did the glass just… disappear?”

“Hmm, it seems so.”

Liam Moore’s response was clear. He didn’t seem surprised at all.

“Uh, you look like you expected this.”

Liam shrugged.

“The broken windows returning to normal, this disappearing, it’s not that strange, is it?”

His calm and nonchalant demeanor somehow made me agree. His words, for some reason, often lent credibility to the absurd.

“Though the glass disappears,” a voice interrupted. It was a middle-aged man, one hand behind his back and the other adjusting his shirt collar. As his hand moved, the wrinkles in his clothes magically smoothed out. He continued speaking.

“It seems the bloodstains on our clothes remain, Miss Jane.”

Herschel glanced between Liam and me, gesturing to my shoulder with his eyes. Following his gaze, I saw my clothes in a mess.

Ah. It must have been from carrying the injured passenger. The man’s bleeding had been severe, and half of my blouse was soaked with blood, making me look like I’d barely survived a deadly ordeal. It was a ghastly sight, no wonder people screamed.

“You’ll need to cover that. Shall I lend you my coat? It seems Mr. Moore doesn’t have anything to offer.”

“Yes, please, Professor.”

I smiled faintly at how familiar Herschel had become with me.

I felt this way in Old Paradise Gardens too, but I had never met someone so sociable. Perhaps it was because I spent my time with the unsociable Liam Moore.

If Herschel Hopkins shared half his sociability with Liam, he might not get chased off crime scenes by the police so often. And he wouldn’t have the nickname ‘Bastard Moore.’ Of course, when called ‘Bastard Moore,’ Liam would make barking sounds and shamelessly frustrate the officers. It was a bad habit.

Having something to cover myself with was a relief. Liam’s coat was likely discarded, torn to shreds. I gratefully accepted and wore Herschel’s coat. It was slightly big and heavy, but wearable.

At that moment, I noticed Liam Moore quietly sticking close to me. With his round eyes, he mouthed, ‘Why?’

Suddenly, the thought made me naturally mutter,

“…He’s quite gentle…”

“Hmm?”

“Nothing.”

I heard Herschel chuckle softly. Had I sounded like a hopeless romantic?

＊ ＊ ＊

There was a slight sense of unease. I felt like I had forgotten something.

Ah, the next car. That’s right. Looking at the closed door, I realized I hadn’t checked on the survivors. They must be shivering in fear, not knowing what had happened.

I extricated myself from Liam’s embrace and moved toward the door. Liam Moore seemed to want to stay in my arms a bit longer but followed quietly, like a younger brother.

That gentleness persisted until we reached the door. Inside, I could hear the sounds of people confused by the changed surroundings.

When I opened the door, numerous eyes turned to us. They all looked terrified. Among them was the passenger who had shot at me twice and the man I had saved while dying.

Fortunately, they were all alive. I had worried that the recent events might have affected them, but seeing them safe brought relief.

They were bewildered by what had happened to them and kept asking about the ‘monster.’

I replied,

“It’s okay. It’s gone. You can return to your compartments now.”

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