Alfred felt the room temperature plummet when he heard his squire.

An indescribable chill invaded his body, freezing his blood and bone marrow.

When the liner stopped at Utopia Port, he had expected the worst situation to happen—Utopia was the headquarters of some cult, and that everyone there was a dangerous lunatic.

But now, the truth was even worse.

Perhaps Utopia never existed!

At that moment, Alfred was unusually thankful that he was no longer the noble scion he was when he left Backlund. He had accumulated a great deal of experience and had thus, not really entered Utopia Harbor.

Under the gaze of the adjutant and squire, the major general paced back and forth with a solemn expression. He calmly instructed, “Draft up a telegram and report to MI9 about what happened in Utopia.

“At the same time, request the local official Beyonders to immediately take action and contact the captain to list down all the people who entered Utopia Harbor. If necessary, pay each of them a visit and confirm if there are any problems.”

“Yes sir!” his adjutant immediately stood at attention and saluted.

After the adjutant walked out of the study, Alfred said to a squire, “Bring up the typewriter from downstairs. I want to write a detailed report.”

His plan was to first use a telegram to report the key information to the brass and not delay the initial actions necessary. Then, he would reveal more details with a confidential document and provide more information for the military brass to make a decision.

…

Wendel walked into a second-class carriage with one hand on his top hat and the other carrying a suitcase.

He wasn’t even thirty years old. His sideburns were deep-black and his brown eyes were calm. He didn’t have any unique features that anyone could remember, but he exuded comfortable vibes.

A few months ago, he was still a Feynapotter intelligence officer who was active in Desi Bay, and had contributed greatly. Now that he was a Sequence 7 Beyonder, he was part of MI9’s internal affairs department.

Today, his goal was to send a confidential document to Backlund and personally hand it into the hands of MI9’s director.

After sitting down, Wendel bought a newspaper from the paperboy and leisurely read through it.

This was just a superficial act; in reality, he began to use his Beyonder powers to illustrate portraits of the passengers around him, remembering all their characteristics, making meticulous and perfect preparations for any accidents that might happen later.

Choo!

The steam locomotive was chugging forward as the scenery outside sped past the windows.

A few hours later, Wendel cast his gaze out of the window with some anxiety. The sky was already filled with dark clouds, and a storm was about to descend.

This meant that the steam locomotive would stop at a station ahead of time to tide through the storm. It might only continue its journey the next morning, and not reach its designated location.

In Wendel’s opinion, this would undoubtedly lead to more risks due to a deviation in his expectations.

However, it was beyond him. He couldn’t change the weather like the Sea God, who was promoted by the Rorsted Archipelago’s new government.

The only thing he could do was pray to the Lord of Storms.

Reality proved that praying was useless most of the time. By the time the sky turned dark, the station in front of them had already sent a light signal to get the train to slow down and stop.

Choo!

The steam engine whistled again, and the train slowed down. Finally, it stopped at an unfamiliar platform.

In the next second, near the steam-powered train’s head, the mechanical door opened. The train conductor stood at the entrance and shouted to the staff on the platform, “What happened up ahead?”

“Heavy rain. Visibility is zero!” the white-sideburned employee answered loudly.

Just as he finished speaking, a muffled thunder sounded, causing everyone to tremble as they sensed the incoming storm.

“Damn it!” the train conductor cursed. “Which station is this?”

As it wasn’t a normal stop, he didn’t really know which station he was at. After all, the schedule he was in charge of didn’t stop at every station in the past.

“Utopia! It’s a small station! You can arrange the rest yourself!” the staff shouted and ran towards the other end of the platform with the glass lantern in hand. “I have to give the train behind a signal!”

The train conductor had no doubts about the staff’s attitude because this was a normal dispatch process. Otherwise, an accident between two steam locomotives would happen.

He could even be certain that the other staff members of the Utopia Station had already sent a telegram to the other stations to warn them.

Of course, they must’ve received a telegram to learn of the area ahead being enveloped by a heavy storm.

“Utopia…” Wendel repeated the name in a low voice, not finding any useful information in his mind.

Of course, he didn’t think too much of it. This was because there were many unknown steam locomotive stations in the entire Loen Kingdom. This was a manifestation of the country’s overall strength.

The train conductor looked at the dark sky and muttered a few words before using the newest megaphone to speak to the passengers on board.

“A storm is coming. The train will stop at Utopia station until eight in the morning tomorrow.”

He estimated the storm to continue the entire night.

“You can stay in the carriage, or you can exit on your own accord to head into the city to look for an inn. Tomorrow, simply show your ticket stub to board the carriage again. Remember to be on time.” The train conductor gave the passengers two choices.

Wendel looked at the passengers inside the second-class carriage and pondered for a few seconds before carrying his suitcase and walking out of the train.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t handle the harsh environment that wasn’t conducive for good sleep. When he was an intelligence officer, he had been through plenty of hardship. He was only relying on his professionalism that the sealed carriages, which were limited in space for passenger movement, weren’t as safe as a single room in an inn.

Of course, he could also stay up all night, but this would definitely affect his condition tomorrow. Clearly, he still had a long journey tomorrow.

After exiting Utopia Station, Wendel got on a rental carriage by the side of the road and said to the carriage driver, “To the municipal square.”

In the Loen Kingdom, there would definitely be a cathedral and a hotel near the municipal square.

“Sir, are you planning on going to the hotel?” the carriage driver asked as he made the horse turn around, seemingly capable of getting along well with anyone.

“Yes.” As a Sequence 7 Beyonder, Wendel didn’t hide it.

In his opinion, as long as he lived in the city center while overseas, he could easily find a group of helpers with his status, and his strength was enough to support him in completing this task.

“The best hotel in Utopia is Red Boots. Are we going there?” the coach driver asked in a suggestive tone that all men knew.

If he didn’t have a mission, Wendel wouldn’t mind pleasuring himself. However, he could only shake his head without any hesitation.

“I want a quiet hotel.”

“Alright…” the coachman replied disappointedly. “Let’s go to the Irises Hotel. No one will disturb you there.”

As the carriage advanced, Wendel cast his gaze outside the window to observe the situation outside.

Perhaps it was because the storm was about to arrive, the people on the road were all in a rush. Even the paperboys looked down.

A very small city… Wendel came to a preliminary conclusion from the lack of a track carriage.

He only saw one trackless carriage. This meant that most of the areas in Utopia could be reached on foot in an adequate amount of time.

Just as he had expected, in less than ten minutes, the rental carriage stopped at the entrance of the Irises Hotel.

Wendel paid the fare and rushed into the hotel before the rain fell.

He heard pattering sounds behind him just as he entered.

After checking in and putting down his luggage, Wendel rested for a while. He kept the confidential document close to him and went to the restaurant on the first floor to enjoy dinner.

He cautiously didn’t have any alcoholic beverages and asked for a cup of “Fizzling Ice Tea,” which was supposedly a local specialty, and a fried pork chop drenched in apple juice.

As a former intelligence officer of high society, Wendel didn’t have much expectations for dinner this time, but he was surprised by the meal.

The pork chop was fried in a succulent and juicy manner that gave off a strong fragrance. The apple juice that was poured on it had a slightly acerbic texture that washed away most of the cloyed taste. The Fizzling Ice Tea was refreshing and especially delicious…

When he foot the bull, Wendel nodded at the medium-build waiter and said,

“Please send my compliments to the chef for giving me the pleasure of this wonderful dinner.”

The ordinary-looking waiter smiled and replied, “That wouldn’t be an issue.

“In all of Utopia City, our chefs are the best.”

Wendel didn’t chit-chat and quickly returned to his room to make some arrangements to prevent others from sneaking in.

Then, he fell asleep without any hesitation.

He used a relatively safe period of time, which any possible enemies would find unsuitable for taking action, to sleep and pass the time late into the night.

After an unknown period of time, Wendel was suddenly woken up by an intense argument.

He snapped open his pocket watch to take a look and realized that it wasn’t even midnight.

It’s from next door… A woman’s voice… A man’s voice… Wendel sat up and listened carefully.

Initially, he suspected that it was a man and woman flirting, but later, he realized that it was too intense. Some of the items were even thrown onto the wall.

A quarrel turning into a fight? Just as Wendel mumbled, he heard the shouting, cursing, and screaming of a woman.

Beating a woman? As a Loen gentleman, although Wendel believed in the Lord of Storms and discriminated against women, it didn’t stop him from thinking that men shouldn’t be violent towards women.

After two seconds of consideration, he decided to knock on the door and remind his “neighbors” to take note.

At that moment, a tragic cry rang out.

This was obviously from a man!

Thud! Something heavy fell to the floor.

Wendel’s brows twitched as he sharply caught the scent of a criminal case.

He stood up, put on his coat, and went to the room next door. He bent his fingers and knocked twice.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, and a beautiful woman with long, wavy hair appeared in front of Wendel.

Her hair was in a mess, and her face was ghastly pale. Her light-green clothes were stained with blood, and she was holding a dagger that was dripping with blood.

The lady in her early twenties stammered for a while before speaking in a dreamy tone, “I killed someone…”