Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

"Dad, Mom asked me to bring you lunch!"

The boy held up the lunchbox and shouted to the porter on the pier, then tripped over the rope underfoot. He almost fell and spilled the lunchbox, but Shard, who was nearby, reached out to steady him and catch the flying lunchbox:

"Be careful."

He said to the boy.

The porter, wearing a short-sleeved shirt, hurriedly put down the sack he was carrying and ran over. Since his work was piece-rate, the supervisor frowned but didn’t stop him.

"Newman, are you okay?"

The man asked his child, then embarrassedly thanked Shard:

"Thank you so much, sir."

He judged from Shard’s attire that Shard didn’t belong to the Dock Area, so he spoke with extra respect, while the boy was even more timid, pulling on his father’s hand and hiding behind him.

Shard didn’t mind it at all. He returned the lunchbox to the boy and then asked the man:

"Mind if I invite you to dinner? I’m a travel writer visiting from out of town and would like to learn about the local customs. It won’t take too much of your time; we can eat at the Tavern over there. I’ll cover the cost, and your son can join too."

If it weren’t for the incident where Shard helped the boy, the request would have been abrupt. But given the current situation, the man only hesitated momentarily before nodding:

"Alright, sir, thank you for your generosity. Can you wait a bit though? There are ten minutes left until the end of work."

Shard didn’t mind waiting a bit longer, so when the man shouldered the sack again, he chatted with the timid boy on the side.

The Outlander, perhaps unknowingly, had a unique charm. The boy, who hadn’t talked much initially, was soon engaging in an enthusiastic conversation about cat-keeping by the time the man returned from verifying his pieces with the supervisor.

Of course, the boy’s family wasn’t wealthy, so he didn’t own a cat at home. Instead, he and other kids on the street fed two stray cats that often came looking for food. From his description, it seemed those stray cats treated the kids like a self-serve food replenishment station.

In the Dock Area, there are many Taverns for sailors and porters to rest, and they are reasonably priced. The taverns got especially noisy near the end of work; Shard, Laurie Anderson, and the boy, Newman Anderson, sat in a spot against the wall. The boy sat with his father and was instructed to sit on the inner side, against the wall.

The meal cost Shard a total of 10 pence, equivalent to 14 copper pence at the exchange rate. Considering the local prices in the Moon Bay Region and the abundant food on the table, this was quite reasonable.

The man and the boy thanked Shard again. During the meal, Shard was in no rush to ask about the boy’s wishes; instead, he carefully inquired about the life of porters and the working conditions at the docks.

Laurie Anderson seriously answered Shard’s questions while eating and focused on the "Moon Bay City Dock and Warehouse Workers’ Association":

"The Moon Bay Region has been an important port on the West Coast for a long time. Local workers and outsiders have fought over dock jobs, forming associations resembling gangs early on. Over hundreds of years, these vibrant dock organizations merged into the current Dock and Warehouse Workers’ Association. You have to join the association to be allowed to work at the docks. Besides the yearly lottery, the only way to join the association is through family inheritance. Sir, do you know how many people come from out of town each year looking for work at the Moon Bay City Dock?"

He seemed quite proud of it:

"My father was a member of the association, which is why I could join. I’m thinking of letting Newman inherit my association membership when he grows up."

Saying this, he excitedly patted the shoulder of the boy who had his mouth full of bread, causing the boy to cough.

"But isn’t that illegal? What if an employer hires someone who isn’t a member?"

"They’d have to pay an extra management fee. The dock office reached an agreement with our association, making management convenient. The gangs on the dock have a mutual understanding not to involve working porters in their conflicts, and because we’re united, sailors don’t easily bully us."

Shard nodded in understanding, as it seemed like the local workers were protecting their jobs. To the "Dignified Persons" in the town, dock work might seem laborious and poorly paid, but for those making a living at the docks, it was enough to support their families.

After all, this was affluent Moon Bay, where even dock workers earned more than workers from other regions.

While Shard and Anderson were talking, Newman didn’t interrupt and kept eating. However, when Mr. Anderson mentioned that he wanted Newman to inherit his "porter qualification" in the future, Shard easily noticed the boy’s discomfort.

In other words, this ten-year-old boy didn’t really want to become a porter.

This wish was far more challenging than persuading Miss Lisa to read stories to her daughter. Fortunately, Shard didn’t need to solve this problem immediately; he had plenty of time to handle it slowly. Moreover, he wasn’t sure if thinking "not becoming a porter is for the boy’s future" was an Outlander’s "arrogant" way of deciding others’ lives.

Having a plan to address this matter gradually, Shard wasn’t in a rush to ask more questions. So he continued to casually chat with Mr. Anderson. As the three neared the end of the meal, a stranger approached the table and handed Mr. Anderson a note.

The latter glanced at it cautiously, then met Shard’s curious gaze.

Shard didn’t ask about it, respecting privacy. But under his observation and considering the hefty dinner, the porter "voluntarily" explained what it was about:

"Tonight, I have a gathering with some friends. This is the note with the time and location."

He said awkwardly, slipping the note into his pocket. Shard observed his expression, then smiled and casually asked:

"Eternal Light?"

"How do you know? Oh, I mean, you also know about this?"

Mr. Anderson seemed a bit flustered, glancing uneasily at his clueless son:

"Since you know, so be it, but we have rules, absolutely no telling outsiders about this casually."

"It’s alright, I won’t spread it around. I’m just very interested..."

Shard slightly lowered his voice:

"Earlier at the dock, your coworkers said they still had to work tonight, otherwise there’d be no time to load the goods onto the ship. Did you give up work hours to join this gathering because you really agree with their views? They seem to like speaking for the poor."

"No, no."

The man shook his head, also lowering his voice:

"Although every time I participate in activities organized by the ’Eternal Light’, I feel an unusual calmness, some of their views... are just too extreme. I don’t want to speak ill of them, actually, they’ve always done well, but... I always feel it’s more like an Order than a social group."

He pursed his lips, swallowed the words he almost said:

"But every time I attend, they give out some eggs and vegetables, which is more than I’d earn working at night."

Shard nodded in understanding:

"So, do the dock workers contact ’Eternal Light’ a lot?"

"Sir, I can’t say that."

Shard glanced at the boy, slipped some bills under the table to the man, who then cautiously responded:

"As far as I know, about a dozen people, not many, and most are like me, only going for the eggs and vegetables. But there are some who agree with them, though they’re very few, and I can’t tell you their names."

That was enough, enough to confirm Shard’s initial suspicion, that ’Eternal Light’, under the guise of an ordinary people’s organization, was definitely not simple. As for what they truly wanted to do, it was temporarily irrelevant to Shard, though if he continued operating locally, he would inevitably encounter them again.

He kept his head down, continuing to eat, while the man across hesitated for a long time, glancing again at his son, before lowering his voice to Shard:

"Sir, please don’t investigate them, don’t stay curious about this."

"Why?"

Shard raised his head curiously, then saw fear etched on Laurie Anderson’s face:

"I met a lot of people there, one of them wanted to earn some money by reporting them to the police station, you know there’s always someone like that. And then, then, then he ended up dead... his corpse dumped in a deserted alley, head missing."

"Hmm?"

First, he was puzzled, then suddenly startled, looking at him:

"Wait a minute, are you trying to say..."

The man lowered his head, shaking it vigorously:

"No, I don’t know anything! This might just be a coincidence, I know nothing. So, please don’t continue investigating, it’s no good for anyone. There are many of them, really a lot."

Before parting with Mr. Laurie Anderson and the boy Newman, Shard agreed to meet them again at noon tomorrow. He needed to think about how to handle the boy’s wishes, and interacting with this porter could allow Shard to uncover more secrets regarding ’Eternal Light’.

As planned, Shard visited Belindel Estate to see the Witch, mainly to ask about her physical condition, after all, a Sage-Level Relic was still within her shoulder.

In the afternoon, the Witch went out, and by evening, she had returned to the estate. When Shard met her, she was sitting on the sofa, tilting her head to look at the setting sun outside, the orange-red light breaking through the dark clouds casting on her profile, her expression looking lonely and sorrowful.