Shadows of London: 3-17 Losing Control

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Vincent appears unexpectedly and brings shocking news to the overwhelmed Caroline...

Info

Style: Event Logs: Clara Barton Required: Edward Goodwill Lv. 6 Recommended: East of the Baltic Sea, Her Life (Dress), Rose Plucker, The Year 1666, Open Wisdom's Door, Born Human Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: Poem of Flute and Clover

Poem of Flute and Clover

Dialogue Choices

...

• I promise
  • Edward goodwill up
• Looks like I don't have a choice
  • Story continues

Out of everything I've just learned... what's the most concerning matter?

• Where my blood went
  • Story continues
• Being mistaken as Edward's fiancée
  • Story continues
• The strange workhouse
  • Story continues

Transcript

Expand for script.

• Even a layperson like me knows inoculations aren't something that can be developed overnight. Moreover, Doctor Grey is busy tending to his patients.
• I start to settle into that simple and cramped lodging house, starting a new life that I have never experienced before.
• Scotland Yard's lockdown doesn't end. The workhouse is understaffed, so I volunteered to take on some of the chores.
• I now handle all the tasks that were once assigned to servants with ease - cleaning the wards, disinfecting the bedding, laundering clothes, and distributing meals.
• My blood is drawn from time to time as a base for the inoculation.
• Although Edward repeatedly reminds me to avoid heavy labor and get plenty of rest after having my blood drawn, I'm unable to find any solace in this harsh environment.
• He keeps pushing himself day and night, doing intense research.
• Seeing this, I find myself hoping that my presence here truly helps him.

• Edward Grey: What is this?

• You: A proposal to guarantee a consistent provision of essential supplies to workhouses.

• He looks away from the paper filled with words and looks at me with some confusion.
• Edward Grey: You mean, like food and medicine? Like what you did before with Miss Barnet?

• You: I suppose, yes, but it's more complicated than the last time.

• You: After living here for a few days, I've realized what the people of the Eastern District really need.

• You: It's not enough to just call on the rich to donate some money, and buy some food and medicine.

• You: What we really need is a safe and efficient supply route. Something that won't risk spreading the epidemic further and will ensure that people get their daily necessities.

• You: This should be the government's job, but now it's up to us to fend for ourselves.

• Edward Grey: What's your plan?

• You: There is no shortage of funds and supplies in London We can entrust that to Priscilla and the Countess in the Western District.

• You: The key is how to safely transport the supplies and how to allocate them...

• I pour out my thoughts. He looks at me seriously, occasionally posing a question or two.
• As my mouth grows dry, I finally stop and take a sip of water. A smile appears on Edward's face.
• Edward Grey: Have you heard of Clara Barton?

• You: Her name sounds familiar. I may have read about her in the newspaper. What about her?

• Edward Grey: Nothing, I just thought you seemed a bit like her.

• He deftly folds the paper I wrote and hands it back to me.
• Edward Grey: Do it then, my Red Cross lady.

• You: You agree with my idea?

• Edward Grey: As a doctor, I can't think of any reason to oppose you. However--

• He stops smiling and his expression becomes serious. In an instant, his eyes, filled with caution and alertness, glance outside the window.
• I shudder involuntarily, knowing that he's about to speak to me as a vampire hunter.
• Edward Grey: No matter what happens, I hope you don't leave the workhouse.

• You: What?

• You: That's impossible, Edward. I need to get in touch with Priscilla, negotiate with Scotland Yard, and also...

• Edward Grey: I'm sorry, Caroline. But lately, those inhuman monsters have become much more active here recently.

• You: !

• Edward Grey: Scotland Yard's lockdown of the Eastern District only gave them more opportunities. Among the patients we recently admitted, some of them are just like--

• He suddenly pauses for a moment, and with great difficulty, finally utters that name.
• Edward Grey: Just like... what happened to Jesse Lindvall.

• You: Are you saying that innocent people are being attacked again?!

• Edward Grey: Don't worry too much. They don't have any other abnormalities at the moment, and there are no signs that they've been transformed.

• Edward Grey: But of course, I had to keep them locked away in a secret location to ensure that everyone stays safe.

• Edward Grey: For your own safety, I hope - no, I beg you not to leave this workhouse.

• His repeated emphasis gives me twinges of doubt.
• You: Don't leave this workhouse? Does that mean...

• Edward Grey: Yes, Caroline. This workhouse is a vampire hunter's stronghold, equipped with various traps to defend against vampires.

• Edward Grey: I promise, as long as you stay here, vampires won't be able to harm you.

• Edward Grey: Can you promise me that, Caroline?

• He softens his tone and looks at me earnestly and worriedly. The vampire hunter disappears, and Doctor Grey reappears.
• You: ...

I promise

• You: I understand.

• You: It would be irrational to distract you from my safety at such a critical moment, right?

• He smiles but doesn't answer. He just raises my hand to his lips, giving it a light kiss.
• Edward Grey: Thank you.

• You: But if I can't leave the workhouse, how am I going to arrange the delivery of those relief supplies?

• You: Even if I can write letters, I still need someone who can help me deliver them.

Looks like I don't have a choice

• I ponder for a long time, but in the end, I still can't find a better way.
• You: I don't have a choice, do I?

• You: So we're just giving up on getting those relief supplies delivered then?

• Edward Grey: No, I wouldn't go that far.

• You: But in order to establish a smooth supply route, we need the cooperation of many parties.

• You: If I can't communicate with Priscilla and the others, how can I acquire enough funds and resources?

• You: Even if I were to write letters, I still need someone to deliver them.

• Edward Grey: How about that boy? His name is Rhys, isn't it? You two seemed to get along quite well.

• You: Rhys?

• I laugh bitterly in my mind. When did we ever get along "quite well"?
• You: So Rhys would help me run errands and deliver letters?

• Edward Grey: Of course, in the current lockdown, he can only help you deliver letters to the blockade.

• Edward Grey: However, I can negotiate with Scotland Yard and have the police deliver your message to Miss Barnet.

• You: Will they be willing?

• Edward Grey: I don't see why they wouldn't. Don't forget, you're Miss Caroline Rayes, who's well known in London for being quite charitable.

• Edward Grey: They wouldn't want to offend someone who could sway public opinion over such trivial matters.

• Although I don't want to bother someone else with this errand, I suppose there's no better alternative given the current circumstances. Still, there is one thing that concerns me greatly.
• You: But if Rhys becomes my delivery boy, won't the Blood Clan attack him?

• You: What if he ends up like Jack?

• My heart instantly twists as I think about what happened that night.
• Edward Grey: Although there may be some risk involved, I don't think Rhys' chances of getting attacked would be higher than that of anyone else if he were to travel alone.

• Edward Grey: He's different from Jack. Jack was obviously your coachman, but no one would think that Rhys is acquainted with you.

• Edward Grey: After all, you're the Elder's true target. So there's no need to worry.

• You: ...

• Edward Grey: Do you feel better now?

• You: Okay, let's do it then. Just, Edward—

• Edward Grey: Hmm? Is there anything else you're worried about?

• He gazes at me with his clear emerald eyes, waiting for my next words.
• It feels like the words are stuck in my throat. In the end, I shake my head and give up, feeling a bit exhausted.
• You: No... no. It's nothing.

• Rhys is initially reluctant to take on this extra errand.
• He expresses a strong sense of hostility when he hears that he will have to deal with Scotland Yard.
• I use almost all the negotiation skills taught by my aunt, but I can't make this stubborn kid give in.
• In the end, Edward talks to him privately for a long time and finally manages to make him relent.

• You: Rhys, have you received Priscilla's reply?

• Rhys: I haven't heard anything.

• It's been five days since I sent her a letter proposing a quarantine supply route between the two districts, but I haven't received a reply yet.
• It's not like the letters are getting delivered all the way to Bulgaria, either...
• You: (Perhaps Priscilla's faced some obstacles and doesn't have any good news for me.)

• You: (I wouldn't be surprised if Priscilla's parents thought it was too much and stopped her.)

• Rhys: I don't understand why you're doing all this. Can't you just stay here and help the doctor?

• You: I wrote that letter because I wanted to help Doctor Grey.

• Rhys snorts and gives me a skeptical look.
• Rhys: Whatever. Do as you please. Scotland Yard is about to distribute another batch of relief supplies. I'll go get em now and while I'm at it, I'll ask if there are any letters for you.

• You: Thanks, Rhys!

• You: By the way, be careful when you go out. If you notice that you're being followed by someone strange, find a crowd where you can hide in.

• Rhys, who was about to leave, freezes in his tracks. Slowly, he turns around, his face filled with disbelief.
• Rhys: You're teaching me how to be safe?

• Rhys: You, a rich lady?

• It does sound strange. We look at each other awkwardly.
• Rhys: ...Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.

• He averts his gaze, stammers a little as he scratches the back of his head, then leaves the room.
• You: (Did he really just thank me?)

• I'm stunned for a moment but finally snap back to reality. A faint smile creeps across my lips.

• Nurse B: Miss Rayes, have you seen Rhys?

• An hour later, a nurse hurriedly walks in and asks me a question.
• You: He just went out to pick up a new batch of relief supplies. Is there something wrong?

• Nurse B: Oh, that boy! I told him to take out the rubbish yesterday. It's been sitting there for days now.

• Nurse B: It's filled with items used by the patients and poses a risk of infection. We need to dispose of it soon.

• You: I'll take care of it.

• Nurse B: There's no need for that, Miss Rayes. This is a job for men.

• You: Well, we can't just sit around and wait for one, can we?

• I wave to the nurse with a wry smile, and walk out before she can stop me.

• The sun has set, and the oil lamps in the workhouse are slowly lighting up.
• I find the pile of rubbish under these dim lights. It's all stacked up and nearly comes up to my chest.
• You: Oh my...

• It seems like Rhys has been slacking off lately.
• You: (Oh well. This is my way of paying him back for helping me deliver letters, I guess.)

• I sigh inwardly and decide to save the energy I would have used to complain to get this chore done.
• I use a shovel to scoop up the rubbish and place them into a wheelbarrow. I'll just dump it along the road later.
• If we were in the Western District, the servants would take out the rubbish to the back door and wait for the dustmen to collect it.
• You: (And now, I'm a dustman.)

• The wheelbarrow is so heavy that it's almost impossible to push. I grit my teeth and put all my weight on the handle.
• The heavy wheels turn slowly, and I push it out of the door.

• You: W-what?!

• As soon as I walk out of the gate, a cold hand suddenly grabs my arm.
• Vincent Savile: Caroline!

• You: Vincent!

• He holds on to me tightly, as if afraid that I will leave. His body, much colder than mine, presses close, and his crimson eyes are filled with anxiety.
• I suddenly become aware of the stench of both the garbage and my sweat. Embarrassment floods me and I just want to run away.
• Vincent Savile: What are you doing here? Do you know that Miss Barnet and Mr. Evans are looking for you?

• You: I...what?

• You: (Priscilla is looking for me? Didn't she get my letter?)

• Vincent Savile: Why does all of Eastern District smell like your blood?

• Vincent Savile: The ghouls are going crazy searching for you, but yet you're hiding in this weird place?

• Vincent Savile: Do you even realize the danger you're in right now?!

• He questions me sharply, but I can't understand a word he says.
• A deep fear slowly rises from the bottom of my heart, snickering and tugging at my nerves.
• I stare blankly at Vincent. His appearance now is that of a vampire.
• You: Vincent... Did you just say that the Eastern District smells like my blood?

• Vincent Savile: Yes. You didn't do this, right? Who have you recently given blood to?

• You: ...

• Vincent Savile: Edward Grey...

• We read the answer on each other's faces. My legs start to tremble, and anger appears in his eyes.
• Vincent Savile: Did he ask you to stay here?

• My mind is so confused that I can't answer Vincent's question calmly.
• Vincent Savile: I don't know what's happened between you two, but you should at least have an understanding of the current situation.

• Vincent Savile: Your friends have no idea where you are, and the scent of your blood is all over the Eastern District.

• Vincent Savile: You're hiding in a strange workhouse that is heavily guarded and where the Blood Clan cannot draw near.

• Vincent Savile: Unless you step out on your own, no one from the outside will be able to find you.

• Vincent Savile: If you still trust Edward Grey, you should at least confront him.

• Vincent Savile: Ask him if all of this is his doing and what his purpose is.

• His irritable and admonishing tone sounds particularly intimidating, and feels like needles stabbing into my heart.
• I can't help but slump down. My already exhausted body can't bear the weight of these confusing thoughts, and I feel like my vision is going black.
• It is only when Vincent supports me that I realize that I am drenched in cold sweat and can no longer stand.
• Vincent Savile: Are you okay, Caroline?

• He's shed his vampiric appearance, his expression a mix of regret and fear, as if my pale face has frightened him.}}
• Just as Vincent was trying to get me to sit down, a familiar voice calls out.
• ???: Who are you? What are you doing here?

• Rhys is carrying a large bag of food and looking at us warily. His gaze falls upon the hand that Vincent is supporting me with, and his expression changes.
• Rhys: Let her go, you jerk!

• He rushes between us, glaring fiercely at Vincent.
• It would have been easy for Vincent to shake him off, but Rhys' unexpected hostility has left us both feeling confused.
• My chest still hurts as I weakly tug on Rhys' sleeve.
• You: Rhys, stop. Vincent is my friend...

• Rhys: Friend?

• He turns his gaze towards me, looking even angrier.
• Rhys: How dare you do such a thing?

• You: What do you mean?

• The conversation has only become more confusing. Rhys also gives up on explaining and instead grabs my arm, forcefully shoving me back through the doors.
• Vincent tries to follow us, but as soon as he steps onto the threshold, it's as if he's being forced back by some invisible force.
• Vincent Savile: Caroline!

• Rhys drags me away and I can only glance back at Vincent.
• His figure looks particularly lonely, standing there in the dark night.
• You: Tell Priscilla where I am and tell her not to worry--

• But before I can finish my sentence, Rhys drags me into the lodging house and slams the door shut with a loud bang.

• Rhys: Are you crazy?

• Rhys throws the bag aside, looking as if he's about to pass judgment on me.
• You: That's what I should be saying. How could you do that?

• Rhys: The doctor has been working hard for the people in the Eastern District. As his fiancée, you're not helping him, but flirting with other men?

• I don't have any strength to argue with him. All his claims sound so ridiculous that all this no longer seems real.
• I close my eyes. Rhys is still shouting angrily, but I can't make out a single word.
• I open my eyes only when all the cold sweat dissipates and my breathing calms. And I finally speak, sounding uncharacteristically indifferent.
• You: Did Doctor Grey tell you that I am his fiancée? Or is this just your own speculation?

• Rhys: What are you talking about? Are you daft?

• Rhys: It's obvious that you two are a couple!

• You: Rhys, look into my eyes.

• I stare into Rhys' face, and press him for answers.
• You: Did Doctor Grey ever say that I am his fiancée?

• Rhys is stunned into silence, and it takes him a while to stammer out a response.
• Rhys: Well... no... but everyone says so. And the doctor didn't deny it.

• Rhys: Why would you want to stay in this godforsaken place if you weren't his fiancée?

• Rhys: And you sleep so close together!

• You: You're the one who gave me that bed! I had no choice in that matter!

• Rhys: Are you really not the doctor's fiancée?

• Rhys: Then why are you hiding here, like someone's after you? I even--

• You: You even... what?

• Rhys's eyes suddenly dart away in guilt. Everything clicks in my mind.
• You: You didn't send my letter at all, did you?

• Rhys: Well... I thought you had enough of all this and regretted eloping with the doctor... you're just so weird!

• Rhys: Everyone in the workhouse, from the patients to the nurses, thinks you two are a couple! It's not my fault!

• My body no longer feels cold. Instead, hot anger begins to wash over me.
• You: It's not your fault. It's mine.

• You: Where is Doctor Grey now?

• Rhys: At this time of the day... probably in the treatment room?

• I decide that there's no point in arguing with him any further. I immediately run towards the treatment room.

• I try my best to calm myself down, but my frantic heartbeats prove that reason has not yet gained control over my emotions.
• It feels like my brain is churning as I think about what Vincent and Rhys told me. What is the truth?
• You: (Calm down. Don't think about anyone else. Think, Caroline, think...)

• Out of everything I've just learned... what's the most concerning matter?

Where my blood went

• You: (It has to be the matter of my blood.)

• You: (I only gave my blood to Doctor Grey to develop the inoculation. How then, does all of Eastern District smell like my blood?)

• Did my blood get leaked out? Did Doctor Grey do this intentionally or not?
• Or was this all my own fault? Did I do something to cause this?
• Shivers run down my spine as I think back to when Vincent said the ghouls were going crazy looking for me.

Being mistaken as Edward's fiancée

• You: (Why does everyone think I'm his fiancée...?)

• I try looking at it from an outsider's perspective, and I have to admit that it's not unusual to come to such a conclusion.
• Aunt Petit repeatedly reminded me to be cautious in my interactions with unmarried men. If I'm not careful, she warned, I could become the subject of gossip and rumors.
• You: (And it seems as though this applies to all social classes.)

• But now, how do I, and Doctor Grey, feel about this misunderstanding?
• Should I flatly deny this untruth in front of everyone?
• And if I do, how will he react?

The strange workhouse

• You: (Doctor Grey did tell me that this workhouse is a safehouse against vampires.)

• I instinctively glance around.
• The walls are damp and old, and the hallway is worn, with its bricks exposed from too much foot traffic. Years of dust have accumulated in the corners.
• This ancient building is full of life, and "strange" would normally not be a word used to describe it.
• You: (But just now, Vincent...)

• I can still vividly recall the shock and anger on his face as he was repelled from the threshold.
• You: (That expression... I've seen it before...)

• Suddenly, a face that I had long forgotten jumps out from my memories.
• You: (The Baroness! That was the expression on her face before she died!)

• The Baroness. A silver revolver. This strange workhouse. The vampire hunter. His foster father--
• My mind explodes with countless sparks, instantly illuminating a clue hidden in the darkness.

• If you still trust Edward Grey, you should at least confront him.
• Dark fires of doubt and malice burn within me.
• I've reached the treatment room. I push the door open, panting.
• You: Doctor Grey, I need to talk to you—

• A sharp scream cuts me off.
• The treatment room is brightly lit, with numerous candles illuminating the operating table.
• The treatment room is filled with screams, the smell of blood, and a tense atmosphere, but only his figure remains steady.
• Edward Grey: Go get a handsaw. And clean his skin.

• Nurse A: Yes!

• Edward Grey: Scalpel. Suture thread. Don't move!

• Male Resident: N-no! Doctor, please... don't cut off my leg!

• Edward Grey: I'm sorry, sir. But we can't save your leg. The cellulitis is spreading too quickly.

• Edward Grey: If we don't remove it now, you'll die.

• Male Resident: No... I-I don't want to die! Please save me!

• Edward Grey: I'll do my best, sir.

• He catches sight of me standing at the door, and his expression quickly turns serious.
• Edward Grey: Just in time, Caroline. Go to my medicine box and get me some chloroform. It's in a small brown bottle.

• You: Huh?

• Edward Grey: We need anesthesia for this surgery, and the nurses are all occupied. I need your help.

• I don't react immediately. He furrows his brow suddenly and shouts.
• Edward Grey: Get me the chloroform! Hurry!

• You: Okay!

• I instinctively turn around, stumbling and rushing towards the room where his medicine box is. He barks another command at me.
• Edward Grey: Run!

• You: Okay!

• The operation lasts for an hour and a half.
• The patient lost his left leg, but now he's out of danger.
• The nurses tend to him while he's asleep, cleaning up after the operation.
• Meanwhile, I, who got roped in to be a temporary nurse, got all splattered with blood. I decide to return to the lodging house for a change of clothes.

• I feel a little more relaxed after changing out of my sweaty and stained clothes.
• The cold night breeze calms me down, giving me some solace after the hectic emergency operation.
• Edward Grey: I'm sorry for shouting at you, Caroline.

• You: Ah.

• Doctor Grey stands in front of me uneasily.
• Gone is the sharpness he had during the operation, and he bows his head, sincerely apologizing to me.
• Edward Grey: You aren't a nurse or my subordinate. I should not have spoken to a lady in such a manner.

• You: It's okay, doctor.

• Slight warmth fills my heart and I give an awkward reply. Both of us fall silent.
• After a while, he speaks again.
• Edward Grey: You seem preoccupied.

• Edward Grey: Were you frightened by all the blood?

• You: It did make me a little uncomfortable, but that's not all.

• Edward Grey: Shall we take a walk and talk about it?

• I was the one who wanted to confront him at first, but now, I suddenly feel the urge to flee.
• Edward Grey is a true doctor, a kind-hearted individual who cares for his patients. Everything I've seen has proven this.
• Isn't that enough? Do I have to pry even deeper? And do I really want to know who he really is, hidden behind the mask of a doctor?
• I already know that he's a liar.
• You: ...Okay.