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We’ve Moved! If you notice any missing, empty, or incorrect chapters, please leave a comment below, and we’ll fix it as soon as possible. Regular updates will resume on June 10th. Thank you for your patience!
We’ve Moved! If you notice any missing, empty, or incorrect chapters, please leave a comment below, and we’ll fix it as soon as possible. Regular updates will resume on June 10th. Thank you for your patience!

The Whispering Verses :- Chapter 31: “Eight Spears Captain” Laides

The corridor floor was covered with red carpet. A swaying group of people, led by the waiter who was waiting at the staircase, walked straight into the second room on the left-hand side.

The interior of the room was quite spacious. The gas lights were turned to their maximum power, making everything in the room glow with a golden hue. However, coming from the chaotic environment downstairs to this now normal scene, gave off an oddly distorted feeling.

The interior of the room looked like an ordinary reception room, except a large gambling table was placed in the center.

The table was wider, and there were more chairs. Against the wall stood a liquor cabinet and two women dressed inappropriately with heavy makeup. The drunk men and the waiter acting as the dealer did not notice Shard, who wasn’t supposed to be there. The group continued their enjoyment in the new room.

Shard stood beside the sofa, trying not to draw attention, looking for an opportunity to slip out into the corridor.

As he contemplated whether to use his “Ignition” ability to create a minor disturbance to attract attention, he heard the drunk man he had previously supported talking to a scar-faced man sitting on the sofa with his head down:

“Captain Rath, tell us again the story of how you shot at your own head eight times in an attempt to commit suicide, to remain loyal to the kingdom when captured by those Southerners!”

The drunk man laughed heartily. Captain Rath, who was being ridiculed, did not speak, keeping his head down and staring at his boots.

“Rath just got ransomed back; let’s not talk about that. Let’s find a pistol and have him demonstrate for us, hahaha.”

A man holding three cards by the gambling table turned around and said, making the room burst into laughter. Taking advantage of the laughter and continuous insults towards the “eight-shot captain” who had just returned home, Shard successfully left the noisy room and returned to the corridor.

The soundproofing of the walls and doors was excellent; after a few steps, Shard could hardly hear the laughter from the room. He stuck close to the wall as he moved forward, finding the empty corridor advantageous for his actions.

Although he didn’t know where the young Franklin was, according to the former detective’s records, the Lucky Southern Cross Club’s second floor had a fire escape leading directly outside. So, Shard wasn’t worried about getting caught.

But as he thought this, turning a corner, he saw a man coming towards him wearing a uniform distinctly different from the casino guards downstairs.

Shard walked forward with chest out and head held high, not showing any sign of fear. However, the man still stopped him:

“Sorry, sir, please wait a moment. I don’t seem to have seen you before.”

Saying this, the man reached out to grab Shard’s shoulder. While Shard had no close combat experience, his instinctive dodge succeeded unexpectedly. This made him realize once again that being enlightened as a Warlock had enhanced him in all aspects:

“Yes, I was invited up here and just went to the restroom.”

He explained.

“But isn’t the restroom in that direction?”

The man pointed in the direction Shard had come from, eyeing him suspiciously:

“You’ve got some good reflexes.”

“The restroom over there is broken; that group of drunks vomited, blocking the toilet. Oh, I really don’t want to describe the scene to you.”

Shard was quite impressed with his acumen, but the man who had stopped him still frowned:

“Sir, you’re not a guest on the second floor, are you?”

Though phrased as a question, the tone was assertive.

Shard awkwardly chuckled, understanding lying was unnecessary. Luckily, he didn’t have any dangerous items on him and truly hadn’t done anything wrong in the club:

“Alright then, I was just curious about the second floor. I followed some guests upstairs; I’ll leave the club immediately. I understand.”

Caught in an unpredicted situation, Shard didn’t need to contend with the club gangsters for minor stakes. As he spoke, he planned to step back, but the man’s next words stopped him again:

“Don’t wander around next time. The floors above the second are for distinguished guests. Abide by the rules if you are here. There’s no need for you to leave. You can continue to wait on the first floor. You’re not here for ‘Poor’ Franklin, are you?”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Well… okay.”

Considering the situation, Shard felt no need to lie. The man seemed reasonable:

“If you’re talking about the young man with freckles, small eyes, gray hat, and sailor shirt, yes. His father sent me to bring him back.”

“His father sent someone again? Come with me, pay off his debt, and you can take him away.”

Waving Shard to follow, the man led him down the corridor:

“You should’ve mentioned this on the first floor. We always worry about finding someone to pay off the debts of folks like him.”

Surprisingly, the club guy was quite reasonable.

“How much does he owe?”

Shard asked the crucial question. The accountant had assured that if his son incurred gambling debts, the detective could advance the payment, to be reimbursed. But Shard himself had limited cash.

“A pound and six shillings, including interest and his food and lodging here, two pounds, and you can take him away.”

The first-floor bets weren’t large; Young Franklin must not have won once to lose that much in two days. But that wasn’t Shard’s concern. Mr. Franklin could pay up to ten pounds of debt, and Shard just happened to have two pounds.

The man continued:

“Of course, since you’re here on behalf of his father. Just like last time, if you are willing to give us three pounds six shillings, the casino can issue a five-pound receipt for ‘Poor’ Franklin’s father.”

It took Shard several seconds to understand what the man meant. He had seen such practices in his original world but was still amazed by the casino guy’s business acumen in this world. He shook his head after thinking:

“Thank you for your offer, but I’ll pass this time. Slow and steady.”

He merely sympathized with Mr. Franklin, who was about to move his entire family, feeling it unnecessary to make money this way. The man leading him saw his point:

“You’re right. Slow and steady. ‘Poor’ Franklin will come again, anyway.”

Shard admitted he had sinister thoughts about the club’s so-called “paying off your debt,” but actually, Young Franklin was merely forced to help wash dishes in the kitchen. Once he washed enough, they would let him go.

When the man led Shard into the kitchen, they saw a fat man in a chef’s outfit punch the freckled young man to the ground. The slight figure collapsed onto the floor covered in Rhodes cards, blood from his dislodged teeth splattering over the cards.

At the kitchen’s end stood a bloody pig’s head with steam pipes spraying hot steam on it, seeming to have been the fat chef’s task.

“Enough, someone’s here to get him.”

The man lazily said, waving away the kitchen smells and extending his hand for payment. Shard placed the prepared two pound notes into his hand and then pulled up Young Franklin from the floor:

“Your father sent me.”

“Mr. Neat, he can’t leave now. This damn kid tried to escape and even bit me.”

The chef furiously exclaimed, showing a fat hand with bloody teeth marks:

“Give me half a pound, or he doesn’t leave.”

We’ve Moved! If you notice any missing, empty, or incorrect chapters, please leave a comment below, and we’ll fix it as soon as possible. Regular updates will resume on June 10th. Thank you for your patience!
The Whispering Verses

The Whispering Verses

Status: Ongoing Author:
Arriving in a new world where the steam industry is thriving, you inherit a three-story apartment in the kingdom's capital square. Accompanied by someone else's cat and listening to the whispers in your ear, you witness this strange and mysterious era. The epic of the Sixth Age is about to begin. Behind the curtains, the chosen ones will step into legend. Old gods, relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient mysteries, the radiance of epochs... "Do you want to play a round of Lord Cards?" Time engraves the years, and the silver moon illuminates the shadows. I write legends for you, and you whisper verses for me.



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