Westminster Bank

Dunbar also whispered to Baron, "Sir, Vivian isn’t the only one in Carriage No. 9 infected with Demon’s Blood. Do you see those people with their collars up and hats pulled down to hide their faces? I noticed when we got on the train. They have the same Branding left by Demons as Vivian... They’re all poor souls hoping to get to Inner London for treatment."

Baron didn’t need Dunbar to tell him; he had already noticed when he sat down beside the little girl. Not only had he seen the burn-like scars on them, but he also realized they were the ones at the center of the heartless whispers about the little girl being infected with Demon’s Blood.

Still, he understood the reason why.

Those infected with Demon’s Blood were reviled by society. To get treatment, they had to travel to a major city like Inner London, where elite Alchemists congregated. All things considered, the train was the fastest and relatively safest option.

But if their condition was discovered, they would inevitably face discrimination. So, to avoid being targeted, their only choice was to deflect the prejudice onto someone else—even if that someone was Vivian, a little girl who, with her white hair and beast ears, was an especially heart-melting sight.

Jack whispered to Baron, "I’m afraid it’s probably too late for them now. It would be one thing if it were just simple scars, but the signs of Demonization are already showing. The infection has likely fused completely with their bodies. By the time they try to purge the Demon’s Blood, any demonic organs that have grown will probably have to be amputated along with it."

Vivian watched Baron and Jack whispering. After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, "Big Brother, and you, Uncle... why aren’t you afraid of me? Are you infected, too? Or are you Bloodless?"

Her question drew the attention of everyone around them. Baron and Jack both froze.

Jack said, "Hang on, wait a minute... How did I become the ’Uncle’?"

Without hesitation, Baron nodded. "Yes, I’m a Bloodless."

Baron felt the gazes on him, once full of envy and jealousy, instantly turn haughty.

"What a joke... I thought he was some illegitimate scion of an Old Blood Clan... Dressed in such a fine coat, but he’s just a Bloodless... Even a country farmer like me is of the Old Race."

"Are you stupid? Why would a scion of the Old Blood Family be in Carriage No. 9 with us? That’s impossible... The way I see it, they’re probably infected with Demon’s Blood, too. That’s why they’re sitting with that girl."

"That’s true. The blonde one doesn’t look like a respectable type. You can tell just by looking at him that his hair is dyed..."

Hearing their comments, Jack was about to go off on them. "Hey, hey, hey! For your information, this hair is one hundred percent natural blonde..."

Suddenly, the announcement of an arrival echoed through the carriage—not for the final destination, London, but for a stop along the way.

An announcement followed, instructing disembarking passengers to exit and boarding passengers to come aboard. The conductor would be starting his ticket inspection. Passengers with tickets were to present them; those without would have to either pay for a new one or make up the fare with five Magic Balls.

Baron glanced at Dunbar, who had just finished forming his fifth Magic Ball. The cuts on the old man’s hands were now almost as numerous as his chapped wrinkles.

A commotion quickly erupted at the carriage entrance. New passengers were boarding, but no one was getting off. This was normal, though. The sun was about to set, and that was when the fog would begin to rise.

Anyone who got off now, unless their home was right next to the station, would be lucky to have their body found in one piece.

Carriage No. 9 grew crowded with the influx of new passengers. Then, the conductor in charge of tickets entered the carriage with a frown. It was the same man who had previously driven Baron out of the middle-class Old Race’s Carriage No. 6 and into this one.

Jack glanced at Baron, who gave a slight shake of his head. In perfect sync, they both lowered their heads.

Vivian was puzzled by this sight, and the beast ears on her head perked up and twitched.

But then she saw her grandfather, Dunbar, shake his head at her, and her perked-up ears drooped. Baron watched this from the corner of his eye. The primal, genetic impulse passed down from a certain great Eastern nation—an instinct regarding white-haired, beast-eared lolis—compelled him to seize the opportunity and gently pat Vivian’s ears.

The little girl’s body stiffened instantly. She trembled all over, her face flushing beet-red. "Mis... Mister... that tickles..."

Baron produced a Gold Coin Chocolate from his coat.

Blushing, Vivian took the Gold Coin Chocolate with her small hands, but only tucked it away with a tremble. "Mister, why do you dare to come so close to me...? Aren’t you afraid that I’m infected with Demon’s Blood...? Or... are you infected too, Mister...?"

"Vivian," the old man, Dunbar, said in a low voice. Vivian seemed to realize her mistake and quickly whispered an apology to Baron.

Jack shot Baron a surprised look, seemingly puzzled as to why he would do something like that at a time like this.

Baron just smiled. For someone like him, from a certain ancient Eastern land, a white-haired loli was a direct assault on his sensibilities.

"Why are you making me get off? I’m almost done with the Magic Balls, I swear! We still have some time before the next stop, don’t we? Please, I’m begging you, don’t make me get off. The fog is about to roll in..."

"I can definitely finish in time, I’m only one short! Please, believe me!"

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at the front of the carriage.

The conductor rolled his eyes at the troublesome passenger. "What good does it do if I believe you? The station master won’t, and it’s my salary on the line, not yours. Now then... either pay up or get off. We’ll count these four Magic Balls as your fare to this stop. If you keep causing trouble, I’m reporting you to the transit police."

"Give me a chance... The fog is coming. If I get off, I don’t have money for the anti-fog fee... I’ll die out there..."