Shadows of London: 3-22 Dreams for Tomorrow

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Shadows of London

He once handed her a handkerchief on the train. This is the beginning, and also the end.

Info

Style: Album Art: Nowhere to Run Required: Mrs. Warren's Profession Rewards: 3,000 , 600 , 3 , 1 , 1 , Blueprint: The Can-Can

The Can-Can

Dialogue Choices

(I...)

• Shoot
  • Ending: Endless Fog
• Don't shoot
  • Ending: Tomorrow Awaits

Transcript

Expand for script.

• William Akerman: Damn you, Edward!

• The day has dawned.
• Contrary to what is often portrayed in human legends, most vampires do not turn to dust and die when exposed to sunlight.
• But as creatures of the dark, they do dislike the sunlight.
• The rot worsens. He feels a part of his decaying flesh, putrid and hanging on by a thread.
• His agony intensifies as he watches the perfect vessel slip from his grasp.
• William Akerman: Hah... blood...

• His scarlet eyes search around for a suitable target.
• Feeding recklessly could be dangerous, but he could care less.
• The sound of ravens flapping their wings behind him interrupts his search. And so, William Akerman is forced to flee into the distance once again.

• Vincent Savile: Stop!

• The two vampires stand facing each other in a clearing surrounded by tombstones.
• Vincent Savile: I won't let you escape again, Irad.

• William Akerman: !

• With another mention of his real name, his fragile spirit can no longer suppress his awakening.
• William Akerman: Oliver, you... traitor!

• Vincent Savile: Is this the moment you'll show your true self?

• Vincent Savile: Tell me, where is Hawke?

• He emits a sinister laughter from the corners of his mouth.
• William Akerman: You're still searching for that other traitor? Haha... It's been so long, and you still haven't found him?

• Vincent Savile: The population of this city is now close to five million people.

• Vincent Savile: This is no longer the city of 500,000 people where you and Lavinia established your clan, Irad.

• Vincent Savile: To be honest, I don't necessarily need to know his whereabouts from you. That's not the main thing.

• Vincent Savile: But if you're willing to speak up before you die, I'll listen to your confession.

• William Akerman: Before I die? How dare a traitor like you utter such blasphemy?

• William Akerman: I've indulged you for long enough. Have you completely forgotten about the power of the blood bond?

• William Akerman: You can't even attack me, yet you still shamelessly talk about my death!

• Vincent Savile: You're right about that.

• Vincent tilts his head, mocking him with a scornful gaze.
• Vincent Savile: But why are you so certain I'll be the one to do it?

• William Akerman: !

• There is a soft thud, as if a passerby has accidentally stepped on a paper bag on the ground.
• Both William Akerman's body and soul sense the impending doom at the same time.
• He doesn't see it coming. All he knows is that Vincent Savile didn't attack him.
• Because the attack came from behind.
• Roger Evans: Farewell, Pastor William, if you can still hear my voice.

• William Akerman: Oh... you're...

• Roger Evans: You probably won't remember the name of someone as insignificant as me. But it shouldn't matter, pastor.

• Roger Evans: In fact, nothing matters to you anymore.

• William Akerman: ...

• Roger Evans: ...

• Upon confirming the death of this inhuman creature, Roger furrows his brow and extracts his weapon from the back of its head.
• Roger Evans: Oof, I've bent the nib.

• Roger Evans: It's got to be expensive to fix this pen... How should I explain it to Caroline?

• Vincent Savile: She probably left this silver pen to you and Miss Barnet for this very purpose.

• Vincent Savile: Let's put that aside for now. We need to finish things off with brimstone fire.

• Vincent Savile: Do you have any matches with you?

• Roger Evans: I am not your servant, Mr. Savile.

• He rolls his eyes and lights a match before throwing it at the limp body of William Akerman on the ground.
• The feeble flame erupts into a towering inferno when it comes in contact with the corpse.
• The dim night sky is illuminated by the constantly twisting, raging flames. They stand in silence, their eyes fixed on the flames before them.
• The flames die down after a few minutes, leaving only embers behind.
• Where once lay a human form, now remains a small pile of black ash and partially burned clothing.
• A whisper of a night breeze sweeps through, and even the remaining ash vanishes.
• After some time, Vincent breaks the icy silence.
• Vincent Savile: Come on, let's go. People will be here soon. Scotland Yard should have surrounded the workhouse by now.

• Vincent Savile: Edward Grey is gravely injured, and we need to return quickly to handle the aftermath.

• Vincent Savile: Most importantly, we must prevent Jesse Lindvall's identity from being exposed.

• Roger Evans: No. While Edward Grey is still unable to escape, I must lead a team to search his clinic and gather concrete evidence.

• Roger Evans: This "epidemic" has been plaguing London for long enough.

• Vincent Savile: ...

• Vincent furrows his brows and glances at him sadly.
• Vincent Savile: Caroline will be devastated.

• Roger Evans: I don't worry about her feelings as much as you.

• Roger Evans: Furthermore, if you see her as the type of person who would cry and fuss over something like this, it would truly be an insult to her.

• Roger Evans: Let me give you a piece of advice: stop viewing women with that outdated perspective from the last century.

• Roger Evans: In the coming decades, women will undergo an unprecedented transformation.

• Vincent Savile: ...I'm not particularly interested in the changes happening in human society.

• Vincent shrugs indifferently and disappears without a trace. Roger cracks a smile, only to suppress it immediately.
• His gaze turns towards Edward Grey's clinic in the distance, his eyes hardening into a cold stare.

• I hear the rumbling of a moving train.
• Something warm trickles down my face, and I feel as if I'm sinking helplessly into a swamp.
• ???: Lady, are you all right?

• The tears obscuring my vision make it impossible to recognize the man in front of me. After a moment, he hands me a handkerchief.
• ???: Here, you can use this, if you don't mind.

• The faint scent on the handkerchief has the effect of waking me up, and I realize that I'm sitting in a train bound for London.
• Outside the window, tall buildings loom in the distance, emitting clouds of black smoke.
• ???: ...Am I bothering you? If you wish to be alone—

• I notice the look of confusion on the face of this familiar gentleman, I realize that I have been staring at him blankly, with tears rolling down my eyes.
• You: Oh no, I had a dream, and it took me a while to wake up properly.

• Hearing my response, he smiles slightly before sitting back down.
• ???: The exhaustion from travel can trigger all kinds of dreams.

• ???: I work as a doctor. If you ever feel unwell, please feel free to consult me.

• ???: Or, if you're feeling down because of a nightmare, I can also keep you company to lift your spirits.

• You: Was it a nightmare...?

• You: It didn't seem like a nightmare.

• You: It was so sad, but I was reluctant to wake up...

• He laughs softly when he hears my confused mumbling.
• ???: Sure enough, your expression doesn't look like someone who just had a nightmare.

• You: My expression?

• I can't help but touch my cheek, and I feel some traces of tears that have yet to dry.
• ???: Indeed. From my perspective—

• ???: You look as if you've encountered an exceptionally blissful dream, and you're weeping because you realize you must awaken from it.

• When I think of his name, his face disappears into the darkness.
• The still-moist corners of my eyes are instantly overwhelmed by new tears.
• I call out his name and reach out my hand to where he disappeared, trying to hold onto the figure that has faded into the light.

• Priscilla Barnet: Caroline, are you awake?

• You: ...Priscilla?

• A face that I haven't seen for many days is looking at me beside my bed with a worried expression.
• However, upon seeing that I am fully awake and well, her expression immediately turns into a pout.
• Priscilla Barnet: The wardrobe was empty! Your luggage was gone! And there was no one at home!

• Priscilla Barnet: Do you know how frantic Roger and I were when we came back and couldn't find you anywhere?!

• Priscilla Barnet: I'm warning you, Caroline, if you ever disappear like this again without telling me, we're done!

• You: But I wrote a letter and left it there for you—

• I instinctively look towards the desk, wanting to refute Priscilla's accusation.
• But the moment I turn my head, it all clicks into place.
• Priscilla Barnet: Letter? What letter?

• You: ...of course he must have ripped it up. That's why he asked me to go downstairs first...

• Priscilla Barnet: He? You mean, Doctor Grey?

• The name pierces my heart. Priscilla first shows an expression of disbelief, then sadly lowers her head.
• Priscilla Barnet: Roger and I learned from Alice that Doctor Grey visited you that afternoon, and then you left with him.

• Priscilla Barnet: But we thought you just had to deal with an urgent matter, and you would be back after a few hours.

• Priscilla Barnet: And that you wouldn't be staying out while you're being hunted by vampires...

• You: I'm sorry, Priscilla. I thought it wouldn't be very dangerous at the time because Edward is—

• Priscilla Barnet: A vampire hunter, right?

• You: How... how did you come to know?

• Vincent Savile: I told them.

• You: Vincent!

• Vincent pushes open the door and appears silently.
• He has an indifferent expression, but I can instinctively tell that he is very angry.
• Vincent Savile: I happened to see you riding in a carriage with Edward Grey, heading towards the Eastern District.

• Vincent Savile: Although it was inappropriate for you to leave under the circumstances, I thought that at least Edward Grey would not put you in danger.

• Vincent Savile: If I had known that it would come to this, I would sacrificed myself along with him, just to stop the both of you.

• You: Um, Vincent...

• I glance at Priscilla anxiously, wanting to remind Vincent not to reveal his identity.
• Priscilla Barnet: Don't worry, Caroline. We all know that Mr. Savile is a vampire.

• Priscilla Barnet: Roger had an encounter with him when he was a child. But that's a long story. I'll explain it to you later when I have the time.

• Priscilla Barnet: In short, thanks to his investigation during this period, we were able to confirm your true whereabouts.

• Priscilla Barnet: Mr. Savile said that the scent of your blood was all over the Eastern District. We were frightened to death, thinking you had met with a mishap!

• Priscilla Barnet: Who would have thought that you were hiding in that workhouse for over ten days!

• Amidst Priscilla's incessant grumbling and recounting (with occasional interjections from Vincent), I gradually piece together what they did.
• However, the growing unease weighs on me so heavily that I can't help but interrupt Priscilla.
• You: Let's talk about those details later. Where is Roger? Where did he go?

• Priscilla and Vincent exchange a glance, both falling silent. The ominous sense of foreboding intensifies.
• You: How long did I sleep for? Where are Edward and Jesse?

• There is a moment of silence. Vincent lifts his eyes.
• Vincent Savile: After confirming your whereabouts, Mr. Evans reported to Scotland Yard that you had been abducted.

• Vincent Savile: But Scotland Yard said that you were registered as Edward Grey's fiancée.

• I should be explaining that it was a temporary necessity but Vincent's last remark has completely made me forget to defend myself.
• Vincent Savile: To prove that Edward Grey was lying, we went to his clinic in the Western District and found many items related to the epidemic.

• Vincent Savile: These items rang alarm bells for Scotland Yard. That's why they showed up at the workhouse last night.

• I avert my gaze and, under Priscilla's worried stare, walk silently to head outside.
• As I pass Vincent, he grabs the hem of my clothes, his eyes filled with pity and heartache.
• Vincent Savile: Caroline, he committed a crime.

• I take a deep breath. The smiling face in my dream remains blurry, but like a brand, it is still etched deep in my soul.
• You: I know.

• You: Don't worry, I'm not trying to absolve him of guilt.

• Vincent Savile: ...

• I gently free my clothes from his hand.
• You: Vincent, can I ask you for another favor? Even though... I know I don't deserve it anymore...

• Vincent Savile: You will always deserve my help. Just tell me, what do you want me to do?

• He quickly interrupts me.

• I hear the bell of destiny ringing in my ears.

• I burst into the police station. Several people with serious expressions who are discussing an important topic suddenly look at me with surprise.
• I ignore them and get straight to the point.
• You: I'm sorry, but where can I find Edward Grey? Is it possible for me to see him?

• Roger Evans: He is in a holding cell. The doctor has finished bandaging his wounds.

• Roger Evans: But you can't see him, Miss Rayes. He is currently under suspicion of a serious crime.

• Startled, I turn my head to find the source of the voice.
• Roger Evans is standing in front of the table, fiddling with some items that appear to be evidence.
• His current demeanor can be described with two words: impartial and just. His gaze indicates that he will not show any favoritism to me because of personal connections.
• I walk over quickly, trying to keep my emotions under control.
• You: I need to see him, Roger.

• Roger Evans: You should be well aware of what he has done.

• Roger Evans: Caroline, I've always thought you were an extraordinary woman. Don't let me down.

• You: What you think of me does not matter. Let me see him!

• You: After seeing him, I'm willing to be a witness if you wish to accuse him of being the true culprit behind the epidemic.

• Roger Evans: ...

• A flash of astonishment crosses his face. Then, he gathers himself and appraises me with the same gaze we had when we first met.
• After a few seconds, he smirks and whispers a barely audible sentence.
• Roger Evans: You only have ten minutes. Jesse Lindvall is with him. Take this.

• He secretly passes me a cold metal object.
• A complex emotion washes over my heart. I nod at him and hurry in the direction he points me to.
• Police Officer: No, miss, you can't—

• I hear the police behind me shouting sternly, while Roger gets in his way.
• You: (Thank you, Roger.)

• The holding cell is both deep and cold.
• There are no gas lamps here. The flickering torches illuminate the cold dew and moss on the stone walls, which look as old as the Middle Ages.
• As I step onto the final step, I hear voices echoing from the other end of the empty expanse.
• Edward Grey: When did you realize it?

• You: (Edward!)

• Jesse Lindvall: Do you remember that time I ran off Charles Street to look for that East European merchant, and you caught me?

• Edward Grey: ...

• Jesse Lindvall: The sky was dark that day and it was raining. As we walked through a dim alley to find a carriage, a young lady holding a baby approached us.

• Jesse Lindvall: I handed her a shilling and declined her "services".

• Jesse Lindvall: Frustrated by her failure to strike a deal, she lashed out at her child to vent her anger.

• Edward Grey: ...

• Jesse Lindvall: Edward, do you know what expression you had on your face when that poor baby was crying?

• After a while, I hear Edward's voice with a hint of confusion.
• Edward Grey: What expression did I have?

• Jesse does not answer the question. After a while, he speaks again, his voice slightly raised.
• Jesse Lindvall: A week later, I read in the newspaper that the woman had died from a strange sickness. The baby was taken to an almshouse.

• Jesse Lindvall: That day happened to be the day when Madam Petit was hosting a tea party.

• You: !

• You: (Yes, that day was the first time I met Vincent and Jesse!)

• Our lively discussion of the incongruous topic of the epidemic at a lighthearted party was not, it turns out, entirely a coincidence.
• You: (Vincent was concerned about the epidemic being related to the Blood Clan. I couldn't help but subconsciously associate it with the death of my parents, and Jesse...)

• You: (Was Jesse questioning the connection between Edward and this epidemic?)

• Edward Grey: Did you suspect me because of that woman's death?

• Edward Grey: Is that why during that time, you always found all sorts of excuses to drag me along on various activities?

• A hint of mockery creeps into his voice, leaving it unclear who he is mocking.
• Jesse Lindvall: I couldn't... I refused to believe it.

• Compared to Edward's confident tone, Jesse's voice is very dry.
• Jesse Lindvall: I hoped, no, I wanted to believe that all this was a plot orchestrated by the Scarlet Rose Club.

• Jesse Lindvall: After the club was shut down, the epidemic did indeed seem to die down for a while. I was delighted, feeling like I had been overthinking things after all...

• His words trail off, fading into the air like wisps of smoke.
• I recall Jesse's melancholic prophecy and last radiant smile from that night.
• He rushed towards the Eastern District in the middle of the night, so sincere and eager, to ensure Edward's safe return home...
• What did he see there? And who did he meet?
• My palms break out in cold sweat as I strain to lean forward, desperately trying to catch a clearer answer.

• You: Eep!

• I forgot there was one more step below me. My foot slips, and my instincts fail to warn me in time.

• Jesse Lindvall: Caroline! You shouldn't be here!

• The two of them are detained in separate cells, and ancient iron bars separate the three of us.
• Edward's body is wrapped in bandages. Fortunately, the bleeding has stopped, and it should no longer pose a fatal attraction to Jesse.
• Edward Grey: Scotland Yard does not let ordinary people in.

• Edward Grey: I don't know how you got in, but you better hurry back before anyone else notices, Miss Rayes.

• Edward Grey: There's no room for you to intervene in the matters here anymore.

• You: I-I came here just to ask you two questions, Edward Grey.

• You: I'll leave after I get my answers.

• I nearly blurt out, "How are your injuries?" Thankfully, his stern expression reminds me: I'm not here to visit the sick.
• I forcefully shift my gaze away from his wound, lift my head, and speak as coldly as possible.
• In the dim light, his pupils reflect the firelight on the stone wall, giving me an illusion of gentleness.
• Edward Grey: Ask away. I have no secrets to hide.

• I clench my fist tightly.
• You: Is there a reliable cure for the current epidemic? And if so, what should be done?

• Edward Grey: Yes, although it may not be entirely reliable, it's worth a try.

• Edward Grey: William Akerman used fermentation and dilution to treat the Blood Clan's undying blood, and it does have curative effects on the symptoms of the current epidemic.

• Edward Grey: For decades, William Akerman pursued "immortality" and developed a drug that greatly accelerates the body's metabolism.

• Edward Grey: People who have been injected with this medicine either cure it with their own resistance or have their life process artificially accelerated.

• Edward Grey: Therefore, if you balance the effects with a suitable amount of undying blood, perhaps you can achieve the desired healing outcome.

• You: This means that—

• I instinctively raise my wrist, searching for the blue veins under my skin.

If you said you can't do it in 3-18

• Edward Grey: I'm really sorry, Caroline. You turned down the opportunity to save Rhys.

• Edward Grey: However, if he's lucky, maybe you can still inject him now and it might be in time.

If you said you'd do it in 3-18

• Edward Grey: I think Rhys should be fine now.

• Edward Grey: You truly saved him, Caroline.

• He deliberately mentions Rhys' name as if on purpose.
• A sharp pain pierces my heart, causing my lips to contort. I rush towards the iron bars, glaring fiercely at him.
• Due to the sudden movement, my purse strikes the railing, producing a metallic clang.
• You: So, onto the second question—

• You: Was Rhys' sudden illness truly an accident as you said, or...
• I can't go on. His face is blank and devoid of all emotions.

• Edward Grey: ...

• I know he has told countless lies.
• His gentleness and chivalry, his faith and calling, his confessions and affection – perhaps all of it is a lie.
• I've thought about it long before, if he ever lies to me, then let me never find out.
• Let me forever and ever be immersed in the beautiful dream woven from that lie, believing in the Edward Grey I know.
• You look as if you've encountered an exceptionally blissful dream...
• There are no tears in the corners of my eyes.
• ...and you're weeping because you realize...
• There is no sadness in my heart, but just emptiness.
• ...you must awaken from it.
• Edward Grey: No, Caroline.

• You: !

• Edward Grey: No. Rhys' illness was not an accident. I did it.

• Edward Grey: I realized that he might become a clue for you to discover my true identity, so I wanted to silence him. That is the truth.

• My hands gripping the iron bars start to tremble. He slowly rises to his feet, walks towards me, and stares at me through the bars.
• You: Why... why are you telling me the truth now?

• You: You could... You could keep lying...

• Edward Grey: Because I am a selfish person, Caroline.

• He stretches out his right hand, wiping away the tears that keep rolling down my face, and sighs deeply.
• Edward Grey: If I continue with this lie now that you have already noticed, you will believe I'm a complete liar.

• Edward Grey: If that's the case, then everything I've said before can be easily dismissed as lies by you.

• My sobs render me speechless. He gives up on the futile attempt to wipe away my tears.
• Edward Grey: But I refuse. Because there are some, though few... are true.

• Edward Grey: And I hope you can remember that.

• Words cannot describe the cruelty of Edward Grey. He has also taken away the last possibility for me to hold onto a dream.
• Seeing my uncontrollable sobs, he reaches out with his warm hand to find mine and tightly grips it.
• Then, he guides me to retrieve the revolver that Roger gave me from my purse.
• Jesse Lindvall: No! Edward, don't!

• Jesse's expression suddenly changes.

• Edward Grey: I have committed countless crimes and harmed countless innocent people. I understand my sins.

• Edward Grey: But, Caroline, I cannot go against my will.

• Edward Grey: I cannot tolerate the existence of non-humans. As long as I'm alive, I can't stop killing them.

• Edward Grey: There is no place for them in natural selection.

• Edward Grey: You have to shoot me to stop me, Caroline.

• Edward Grey: I taught you how to shoot.

• Am I being hypnotized, or am I mentally exhausted? My brain is numb, and I can't think of anything.
• I only hear Edward calmly asking me to shoot.
• You: (I...)

Shoot

• Click.
• As the trigger is pulled, a small gear rotates half a circle, driving the adjacent mechanism.
• It is supposed to strike the firing pin, ignite the primer, and accurately eject the bullet from the chamber into his body.
• However, nothing happens.

• I open my eyes and see Edward staring at the gun in surprise. It is now quiet and harmless, with no hint of its destructive power.
• Roger Evans: Your stupidity is truly eye-opening.

• A voice, half-complaining and half-teasing, echoes from above the holding cell as Roger slowly descends.
• Roger Evans: This is something that would occur to you if you gave it a little thought. Would Scotland Yard leave bullets in evidence?

• He takes out a small paper bag, clearly containing two bullets.
• Roger Evans: Edward Grey. Caroline Rayes. I thought you two were at least smart.

• Roger Evans: Is this what they call, "Love is blind, and lovers cannot see"?

• You: Roger, you...

• Roger Evans: But at least you managed to get him to reveal that the epidemic can be cured. The key lies in undying blood.

• Roger Evans: While this is not a result that can be made public... let's leave the specifics for the medical community to worry about.

• As he finishes speaking, his expression quickly turns cold, and he waves his hand.
• Several officers rush in and roughly pull me away from the bars, open the iron gate, and shove Edward out.
• Realizing that he has been tricked, Edward says nothing and offers no resistance as he slowly walks up the stairs.
• When he passes Roger, Roger suddenly speaks up.
• Roger Evans: Why do you think we went through all the trouble to keep you and Jesse Lindvall locked up together, Edward Grey?

• Edward thinks for a moment and seems to smile.
• Edward Grey: It doesn't matter anymore.

• He leaves and Roger gives me one last look and shakes his head.
• Roger Evans: Even though you claim this is none of your business...

• Roger Evans: I still have to say this. I'm disappointed in you, Caroline. And I think your mother would be disappointed too.

• And that was the end of Edward Grey's social life in London.
• A week later, the morning paper announces the verdict. The government officially declares the end of the epidemic.
• The restrictions regarding the Eastern District are being removed as quickly as they were put in place. Half a month later, the Ruby Opera House is preparing to resume operations.
• The socialites who fled London are now returning to the city, hosting three parties every week.
• London, which had been silent for several weeks, suddenly regains its former cheer. However, I can no longer find familiar figures among these familiar scenes.
• I have never understood how it is to be truly lonely.
• But now, I understand.

• The day before my aunt and Mr. Erskine are expected to return to London, Priscilla comes to the train station to see me off.
• She looks sullen, her lips slightly pursed, and she surveys me with a hint of resentment.
• Priscilla Barnet: Do you really have to leave so soon? Are you still mad at Roger, Caroline?

• You: No, no. Roger is not at fault. It's me... I'm disappointed in myself.

• I struggle to speak these words as I look up to see the sky of London still shrouded in fog.
• You: I feel lost here, Priscilla. Perhaps I am too weak to follow my heart.

• You: If I continue to stay here, I may one day lose the ability to distinguish between right and wrong.

• Priscilla Barnet: Caroline!

• You: I'm sorry. Just give me a little time, okay?

• You: I want to go back to Hampshire, back to Canterville Manor... back to the home I know, to find myself again.

• You: Maybe I'll come back to London again when I'm mentally ready.

• Priscilla Barnet: Um...but...

• You: And Rhys also needs sunshine.

• You: I need to take care of him at least. Even if it's the only thing I can do for him.

• Priscilla finally appears to give up on asking me to stay.
• The train, sounding its whistle, slowly pulls into the station. I reach out to Priscilla and say goodbye, then board the carriage.
• Gazing down the long stretch of railroad tracks, the deep gray expanse stretches endlessly into the distance, like an unknown path ahead.
• Suddenly, I feel that I may never escape this fog for the rest of my life.

• Obtained Ending: Endless Fog

Don't shoot

• You: You... can't tolerate the existence of non-humans...

• Edward Grey: Caroline?

• You: You can't tolerate the part of you that took away Dennis' chance of survival.

• Edward Grey: ...

• My muddled vision miraculously becomes clear. I blink and gaze into his emerald eyes.
• Seeing my reflection clearly in his eyes clears up my thoughts as well.
• You: Edward, just as you always remember those patients who cannot be saved, the one you can't forget the most is Dennis.

• You: He was the "first patient" that you couldn't save.

• Edward Grey: ...

• You: He died and you survived. You said it was natural selection, but you have never truly accepted it in your heart.

• You: Because you were the one who shot him after his transformation. You believe yourself to be guilty.

• You: You believe that as long as you're alive... you will always be guilty.

• You: You carry the burden of guilt, yet you cannot give up your own life because of it. So you turn to hunting down beings like him.

• You: You want to convince the you who feels that he shouldn't be alive, that Dennis deserved to die.

• His hand tenses up. I retrieve the revolver and gently slide it towards the corner of the holding cell where neither of us can easily reach it.
• You: But Edward, I feel...

• You: That Dennis didn't deserve to die.

• Edward Grey: ...

• You: No one deserves to die. Whether it's you as a youth, Dennis, the innocent chef, ordinary people afflicted with illness... No one deserves to die!

• You: That's not how natural selection works! It isn't about "letting those who deserve to die, die!"

• My voice grows louder, almost becoming a roar.
• All the confusion and doubt shatter at this moment. I shout with a hoarse voice, with all my strength, hoping to convey my thoughts to him.
• You: Every life is born equal, each one embarking on its own journey. Though the journeys vary in length and form, leading to different destinations...

• You: Natural selection is not about deciding our death, but about granting us the opportunity to live!

• You: To live well, to thrive! And when the final moment arrives, whether we feel fulfilled or not, to face it with composure!

• You: Poor or rich, man or woman... human or vampire!

• You: Each of us will face our own final moment. To confront it, to accept it - that is natural selection.

• ...
• Jesse Lindvall: All people die.

• Jesse's voice calmly echoes from beside us. We turn to look and are surprised to find that he has shed his vampiric form.
• You: (Has Jesse learned to control his appearance?)

• Jesse Lindvall: And I forgive you.

• His hair once again gleams with a subtle radiance, his skin still lacking in color but appearing closer to that of an ordinary person.
• Now, he looks almost like the Jesse Lindvall who was once adored in London's social circles.
• Jesse Lindvall: Please don't shed tears for me, my friends.

• He smiles, opens his eyes, and reveals a helpless and self-deprecating smile.
• Jesse Lindvall: I can't believe I was able to write such an epitaph when I had yet to experience anything.

• He stands up, gazes at the thick iron bars before him, and then tentatively reaches out his hand.
• You: Ah!

• If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I would find it hard to believe.
• You: (The sickly and weak Jesse effortlessly bent the thick iron bar with just one hand!)

• I subconsciously touch my throat, realizing that Jesse had been extremely careful with me last night.
• He bends another bar, ducks out through the gap, and walks towards us.
• Jesse Lindvall: Thank you, Caroline. You have cleared up my long-standing confusion.

• You: What is the confusion?

• Jesse Lindvall: After becoming like this, I once returned home.

• Jesse Lindvall: Perhaps it was a subconscious desire to seek support from the people I knew best, but my father and brother's reactions made it clear to me.

• Jesse Lindvall: I had nowhere to go.

• You: No, Jesse, how could that be?

• Jesse Lindvall: Thank you for your consolation, but it is an undeniable fact that I've become a vampire.

• Jesse Lindvall: But I am confused about something. If I can only survive as a vampire, should I continue to live?

• Jesse Lindvall: Even though I'm alive, am I really still "Jesse Lindvall"? Or is it better to simply die as a human being?

• You: ...

• Jesse Lindvall: But what you just said made me understand my own feelings.

• Jesse Lindvall: Of course, I am still Jesse Lindvall.

• Jesse Lindvall: However, the journey of Jesse Lindvall has come to an end, while his journey as a vampire is about to begin.

• He smiles, as if this endless journey is just an ordinary trip for him.
• You: Is that so? Well, that's great, Jesse.

• Jesse Lindvall: Thank you. So, what about you, Edward?

• He suddenly turns his head and looks at Edward calmly.
• Edward Grey: ...

• Jesse Lindvall: Do you still think I should have died? Just like your brother?

• I nervously look back and forth at them.
• Jesse Lindvall: Earlier, you asked me what your expression was when you heard that baby crying.

• Jesse Lindvall: It's the same expression as when you're looking at me as a vampire.

• You: !

• Jesse Lindvall: A mixture of disgust and pity, anger and indifference; the kind of look reserved for the guilty.

• Jesse Lindvall: You... would wear that expression when you're watching plays or engaging in other forms of entertainment.

• Jesse Lindvall: It's as if you don't allow yourself to feel happy and joyful, as if happiness is a crime...

• One night, while we were watching a Shakespearean play at the Ruby Opera House, his cold and expressionless face filled me with great concern.
• Edward Grey: ...is that so?

• Jesse Lindvall: But as you look at me now, that expression is gone.

• Edward Grey: Perhaps it's because you look more pleasing to the eye now.

• Edward makes a subtle, mocking remark, but Jesse bursts out laughing instead.
• Jesse Lindvall: So, do you still want to kill me, Edward?

• Edward Grey: ...

• He remains silent for a few seconds, as if he has made up his mind.
• Edward Grey: If I learn that you have harmed any ordinary humans for food, I will come after you.

• Jesse nods, solemnly making a promise that almost goes against his very nature as a vampire.
• Edward Grey: Also, if you ever find yourself unable to control your urges and need to feed... you can come to me.

• In an instant, Jesse's expression turns near-tearful. He reaches out, trying to touch his hand, and then grips it firmly.
• After a brief moment, they let go of each other's hand forever.

• And that was the end of Edward Grey's social life in London.
• A week later, the morning paper announces the verdict. The government officially declares the end of the epidemic.
• The restrictions regarding the Eastern District are being removed as quickly as they were put in place. Half a month later, the Ruby Opera House is preparing to resume operations.
• The socialites who fled London are now returning to the city, hosting three parties every week.
• London, which had been silent for several weeks, suddenly regains its former cheer. However, I can no longer find familiar figures among these familiar scenes.
• I have never understood how it is to be truly lonely.
• But now, I understand.

• The train carriage is abuzz with chatter.
• I close the compartment door, trying to shut out the noise. While the actual effect is minimal, I at least find some comfort in my mind.
• The rumble of the wheels drowns out the French tourists shouting, "L'Exposition" and "Le bilan d'un siècle". I shake my head and try to resume reading my letter.
• It's from Aunt Petit. Since her marriage to Mr. Erskine five years ago, his gout has recurred frequently.
• Aunt Petit has been exhausted dealing with it. Only when she writes to me does she complain more.
• Originally just a regular family letter, the few lines she casually wrote at the end leave me feeling uneasy.

Bernard's friend recently informed me that Edward Grey's release from prison is approaching.
The public opinion in London seems to have long forgotten the epidemic that occurred years ago, and the new social elite have no way of knowing about the once widely admired doctor. Such is the fickle nature of the world.
But I imagine you would be very much interested in this news, my dear.

Your Aunt

• You: Yes. Thank you, aunt.

• I sigh, fold up the letter, and look out the window once again.
• During the first year of Edward's imprisonment, I remained in London, regularly drawing my blood each month and having Roger secretly deliver it to the professors at King's College London.
• Most of the patients infected with the strange illness showed improvement after receiving injections of the medication based on my blood, but I became physically weak due to the frequent blood draws.
• Not only that, rumors about the "mysterious blood" began to spread wildly on the black market.
• To avoid causing trouble due to my unique background and for my health, I started traveling out of London to recuperate.
• Priscilla accompanied me on a tour of England, while Vincent and Jesse took me on a trip to explore Ireland and Wales.
• Then I traveled the European continent alone, from Paris to Rome, and finally to Constantinople.
• At the German border, I gazed upon my mother's homeland, now difficult to enter.
• You: (How many years has it been?)

• My body has become stronger from the years of traveling, but loneliness troubles my soul.
• You: (Where... is my home?)

• The stamp on the envelope indicates that my aunt's letter was sent from London half a month ago.
• I sigh and fold the letter, which I have read over and over again, and put it back in the envelope.
• Just then, the group of French guests who were just loudly chatting rush past. They clearly have had some drinks, leaving behind the smell of alcohol in the air.
• I don't know whose clothes got hooked on the door handle, but the door to my compartment is suddenly pulled open.
• You: Oh no!

• The small objects placed by the door are scattered all over the floor, some even falling into the corridor, inconveniencing passersby.
• I hurriedly crouch down and pick up the objects one by one, while apologizing to the passengers who are rushing by outside.
• You: I'm sorry, I'll be done in a moment—

• ???: Don't worry about it, ma'am.

• You: (Oh! It's a London accent.)

• After several years of hearing languages from different countries, I'm taken aback by this sudden reminder of "home".
• I can't help but raise my head to meet this stranger from London—
• You: ...

• ???: Ma'am? Your face is a little pale. Do you need help getting back into your compartment?

• ???: As a lady traveling alone, you must take extra care to protect yourself, right?

• With his warm hand, he steadies me gently, his smile as radiant as ever.

• Obtained Ending: Tomorrow Awaits