Shadows of London: 2-1 Visitor From Manchester

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Shadows of London

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Will Caroline find the person humming her mother's lullaby amidst the crowd at the train station?

Info

Style: Gifts: Wonderful Age (Dress), Night in Moulin Rouge Recommended: Wonderful Age (Dress), Night in Moulin Rouge Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: The Picture of Dorian Gray

The Picture of Dorian Gray

Dialogue Choices

In my panic, I quickly scan my surroundings, desperately searching for a solution to the problem at hand.

• Shout loudly for the police
  • Story continues
• Intercept the thief by taking a shortcut
  • Story continues

Rhys, whose arm I'm still holding, raises his head alertly.

• What do you think?
  • Story continues
• Of course
  • Story continues

Transcript

Expand for script.

• Standing on the bustling streets of London, I hear a familiar lullaby in my ears.
• The graceful, tender singing voice I recall from my dream synchronizes with my rapid heartbeat.
• Red roses in a heap, gentle moonbeams...
• The crowd of people rushes towards the train station like a tidal wave, and the sharp corners of countless suitcases collide with my legs.
• Little girl, go to sleep, meet angels in your dreams...
• My own heavy suitcase becomes another immense obstacle, almost slipping from my sweaty palms.
• You: Oh!

• When another powerful impact comes, I can't help but let my suitcase slip from my left hand as I throw myself towards my target—

• ???: ...

• The man whose shirt I've grabbed stops whistling.
• He turns around. Judging by his appearance, he seems to be of Middle Eastern descent.
• I feel disoriented for a moment, as if I'm not on the streets of London, but in a distant country.
• He's dressed neatly in a tweed suit and a hat, exuding an air of elegance like any fine London gentleman.
• ???: Sorry, just a moment, Miss.

• His gaze falls behind me as he speaks.
• His unmistakable Northern accent only adds to my bewilderment.
• In the next moment, he swiftly brushes past me, his tall figure weaving agilely through the crowd as he heads straight towards a certain individual.
• ???: You! Stop right there!

• You: Huh? Oh! My suitcase!

• I suddenly snap back to reality and realize that the suitcase I was carrying in my left hand has vanished without a trace.
• A bystander shrieks as the young gentleman pushes through the crowd in relentless pursuit of the thief.
• The commotion makes the thief even more nervous. He grabs a newspaper from a paperboy and throws it at the gentleman, causing even more chaos.
• In an instant, curses, shouts, and screams ripple through the crowd.
• You: Oh no!

• In my panic, I quickly scan my surroundings, desperately searching for a solution to the problem at hand.

Shout loudly for the police

• You: Help! Police!

• You: Officer, over here! Help!

• Dudley: What's going on?

• He slowly turns his head towards me.
• ...
• Ten minutes later, having obtained the policeman's somewhat reluctant help, my suitcase is successfully returned to me.
• Rhys: Let me go, you rotter!

• The thief, who's been apprehended along with my luggage, appears to be no older than fourteen years old.
• ???: So, Miss, are any of your personal belongings missing?

• ???: If anything's been taken, Miss—then you, boy, you'd better confess!

• The young boy, who's been continuously punching and kicking, is startled and temporarily stops.
• But within a few seconds, he struggles even harder.
• You: Nothing is missing, thank you...

• While thanking the gentleman, I can't help but look at the child.
• He is dressed in tattered clothes, his hair is filthy, and his wrists, exposed by his torn cuffs, are thin and bony. His sallow skin bears traces of dirt and grime.
• The young gentleman catches a glimpse of the expression on my face.
• ???: Hey, boy, you should apologize to this lady.

• Rhys: Forget it! Don't even think about it!

• The young boy skillfully spits at the hem of my skirt, glaring at me with disgust. His pupils are dark brown, and the corners of his eyes are crusted with sleep.
• Rhys: Rich ladies are rubbish!

• I feel the spittle hit both my skirt and the policeman's trouser legs beside me.
• Dudley: You little stinker!

• Caught off guard, I feel sick for a moment, until the policeman's yell startles me.
• Dudley: You Crow's Nest scum! Today, I'll teach you a lesson!

Intercept the thief by taking a shortcut

• You: I'm sorry, please let me through!

• Clutching my hoop skirt, I struggle to squeeze through the crowd, turning into a nearby alley.
• Urchins gape at me in astonishment as they watch me stride through the alley and dart out the other end.
• You: You! Stop right there!

• ...
• Ten minutes later, the well-dressed gentleman and I have successfully retrieved my suitcase.
• Rhys: Let me go, you rotter!

• The thief, who's been apprehended along with my luggage, appears to be no older than fourteen years old.
• ???: So, Miss, are any of your personal belongings missing?

• ???: If anything's been taken, Miss—then you, boy, you'd better confess!

• The young boy, who's been continuously punching and kicking, is startled and temporarily stops.
• But within a few seconds, he struggles even harder.
• You: Nothing is missing, thank you...

• While thanking the gentleman, I can't help but look at the child.
• He is dressed in tattered clothes, his hair is filthy, and his wrists, exposed by his torn cuffs, are thin and bony. His sallow skin bears traces of dirt and grime.
• The young gentleman catches a glimpse of the expression on my face.
• ???: Hey, boy, you should apologize to this lady.

• Rhys: Forget it! Don't even think about it!

• The young boy skillfully spits at the hem of my skirt, glaring at me with disgust. His pupils are dark brown, and the corners of his eyes are crusted with sleep.
• Rhys: Rich ladies are rubbish!

• You: Ah!

• Caught off guard, I feel sick for a moment.
• Before I can react, a policeman who's been drawn to the commotion approaches me and hands me a handkerchief.
• You: Thank you, Officer...

• Dudley: It's no trouble at all.

• The policeman looks humble and arrogant at the same time, as if the fate of all London rests upon his shoulders. However, when he turns to face the young boy, he suddenly becomes menacing.
• Dudley: You again! You Crow's Nest scum! Today, I'll teach you a lesson!

• Rhys: See if you dare!

• ???: Oh no.

• The well-dressed gentleman raises an eyebrow, and immediately steps forward to block my line of sight.
• You: Sir?

• ???: It's Scotland Yard business, so we'd better keep our mouths shut, Miss.

• The sounds of punches, kicks, and curses fill the air as the policeman and the thief get into a scuffle.
• I can't bear it anymore.
• You: Officer, please stop!

• You: It's true that this child committed a crime.

• You: But you've already apprehended him. Please don't hurt him...

• The policeman gives me a cold, stern glance, his eyes filled with impatience.
• Dudley: I apologize, Miss, for resorting to violence in front of you. But people like him don't listen any other way.

• Dudley: Please do not interfere with my work.

• My words get stuck in my throat. I glance at the thief, whose face is bruised and swollen.
• Rhys: ...

• He curls up on the muddy ground like a snail, with his back to everyone and his head in his hands.
• His arms are covered in cuts, many already swollen and festering.
• You: Of course, I won't interfere with your work, Officer. I just want to administer some basic medical care to this child.

• I drop the suitcase and grab the boy's hand, rolling up his torn sleeves.
• The texture of the greasy, stained fabric makes me shudder, and I feel as though countless insects are crawling on my body.
• Rhys: What are you doing?!

• You: If you don't take care of these wounds properly, an infection could kill you.

• Rhys: !

• You: Come on, I'll take you to Doctor Grey's clinic.

• Rhys: A clinic? No way! I'll never set foot in a place like that, or my name's not Rhys!

• Dudley: With all due respect, Miss! Theft charges need to be handled by the police. You don't have the authority to take him away!

• ???: You've made your point, Officer. But actually, this theft has been thwarted.

• ???: And this young lady didn't say she was going to let the thief go either.

• He turns and glances at me, and I immediately understand.
• You: After I've sent this child for medical treatment, I'll bring him to a police station. Will that do?

• Dudley: ...

• The policeman frowns as he scrutinizes us, especially the young gentleman.
• But he straightens his collar and walks away in the end.
• We watch as the policeman leaves. The young gentleman smiles.
• ???: So, after you send this child to a clinic, are you really planning to bring him to a police station, Miss?

• Rhys, whose arm I'm still holding, raises his head alertly.

What do you think?

• You: What do you think? If I'd wanted this child to go to prison, I wouldn't have intervened just now, sir.

• You: However, I'm certainly not condoning theft—

Of course

• You: Of course. While that policeman crossed the line by resorting to violence, he was also trying to stop a thief.

• You: This child indeed committed theft, so of course he should—

• ???: Caroline?

• A familiar voice comes from behind me. I instinctively shrink back.
• Madam Petit: You... What are you doing here?

• Aunt Petit's carriage has stopped nearby. She peers out the window, shocked.
• Even Jack, who is sitting in the driver's seat, looks astonished.
• You: Aunt Petit, I...

• Madam Petit: ...

• She quickly gets out of the carriage, her sharp gaze scanning the young gentleman, my suitcase, and the spittle stains on the hem of my skirt.
• Finally, her gaze lands on my right hand, which is still clutching Rhys' arm.
• Rhys: What are you looking at, ladies?!

• You: (Rhys, please, just keep quiet for now...)

• You: Aunt Petit, what happened was my suitcase was stolen by this child, and this gentleman helped me retrieve it.

• You: But this child is injured, so I wanted to help him before sending him to the police station—

• Madam Petit: Did you realize that your suitcase was stolen while you were on the train, or did you only discover it after getting off the train?

• Aunt Petit certainly cuts to the chase.
• You: After getting off the train...

• Madam Petit: So you decided to get off on your own.

• Madam Petit: So... you made your own decision to stay in London.

• As her tone sinks, even Rhys falls silent for a moment.
• ???: I apologize for interrupting you, Madam, but a crowded street like this isn't a good place to talk.

• ???: The suitcase has been recovered, and the thief has been caught.

• ???: As this kind-hearted young lady wishes, I can escort this boy to the clinic first and then to the police station.

• Madam Petit: That would be of great assistance, sir.

• Aunt coldly appraises him with a glance. She doesn't ask for his name, and her tone is extremely chilly.
• Clearly, she has made up her mind not to have any further interactions with someone who looks like him.
• Madam Petit: Jack, load Caroline's suitcase onto the carriage and take us back home now.

• You: Aunt Petit, I still—

• Madam Petit: Caroline, I said, now.

• She turns and walks towards the carriage. Chastised, I turn and glance at the young gentleman.
• He smiles as he lifts the suitcase and hands it to Jack, casually glancing at the label.
• ???: Leave it to me, Miss... Caroline Rayes.

• You: May I ask what your name is, sir?

• I lower my voice, feeling Aunt Petit's eyes boring into my back.
• ???: Don't worry, we'll meet again.

• As Jack urges me to go, I reluctantly get in the carriage.

• On the way home, Aunt Petit remains silent, and I dare not speak.
• Anna opens the door for us. Her face fills with surprise when she sees me.
• In a distant tone, Aunt Petit tells me to go upstairs and change my clothes. I know that the dirt and the stains on my skirt are already more than she can bear.
• To be honest, I myself am also eager to change into a fresh set of clothes.

• Priscilla Barnet: Caroline!

• You: Priscilla, how did you come here?

• Priscilla Barnet: I just went to the train station to pick up a friend, just in time to watch the thrilling capture of a thief.

• Priscilla Barnet: I wanted to go over and say hello to you, but...

• Priscilla Barnet: Madam Petit didn't ground you again, did she?

• You: No, though she looked angry.

• I anxiously look towards my aunt's room upstairs.
• In fact, she didn't criticize me or punish me at all. She seemed to not even want to see me or talk to me.
• This is even more distressing to me than when she grounded me before.
• Priscilla Barnet: Hmm... London is in such chaos right now that her feelings are understandable.

• Priscilla Barnet: Now, half of the wealthy families in the city are fleeing, afraid that they'll be caught up in the epidemic if they don't hurry.

• You: What about your parents? Aren't they planning to leave?

• Priscilla Barnet: They can't make up their minds. They're afraid of getting sick, and yet reluctant to give up city life.

• Priscilla Barnet: Anyway, even if they leave London, I'm still going to stay.

• You: Aren't you afraid?

• Priscilla Barnet: What are you talking about, Caroline? The epidemic is caused by vampires, isn't it?

• Priscilla Barnet: I'm ashamed I fell for the Baroness' lies, and I need to redeem myself. So how could I leave now?

• Priscilla Barnet: My detective friend has just arrived in London from Manchester, so the truth about the epidemic will soon be uncovered.

• Priscilla Barnet: I came here to ask you... Do you want to join us?

• As she speaks, she winks at me and hands me a short note.

Dear Miss Rayes,

Your conduct at the train station has left a deep impression on me. As Priscilla aptly stated, you are truly a remarkable woman. Your assistance in investigating the London epidemic would be invaluable.
Roger Evans
P.S. The little Robin Hood escaped while I was paying for his treatment. I apologize for my failure to deliver him to the police station, but I believe your moral influence on him far outweighs the effectiveness of imprisonment.

• You: Train station? Roger Evans? Little Robin Hood?

• The face of the well-dressed young gentleman with the Northern accent flashes through my mind. I look up at Priscilla, who is smiling brightly.
• Priscilla Barnet: Well, Caroline, are you ready to give me your answer?