webnovel

Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital's royal square, took in someone else's cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era's brilliance... "Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?" Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.

Salty Fish Pilot · Games
Not enough ratings
390 Chs

Chapter 8: Roder Card

"If this deal goes smoothly, perhaps I can really try staying here under the guise of a detective. Once my life is stable, I'll try to reach out to the Transcendent and see if there's any hope of finding my way home."

In the idle moments watching the entrance of the club, Shard, the Outlander, thought of his distant homeland and couldn't help but sigh.

He estimated the time again, and since Mr. Lawrence had also entered the club, it was impossible for both of them to come out within the next hour.

"They're busy now. Should I find somewhere to rest for a while?"

With that thought in mind, his eyes scanned the surroundings and landed on a tavern called "The Screaming Hound" at the corner of the street.

Taverns open during the day and located on the main road usually are not too chaotic, especially now at only two in the afternoon. Shard pinched the ten-penny note in his pocket, licked his somewhat chapped lips, checked the time, hesitated for a moment, then stepped towards it.

Pushing open the door of the tavern, his first sight was a row of gas lamps on the wall, illuminating the somewhat dim interior. The air was filled with a mix of the scent of alcohol and fermented food, making him, still hungry, feel slightly uncomfortable.

Shard now understood that the lights used in this era were all gas lamps. Climbing the walls, apart from the gas pipes, were generally also steam pipes—the gas pipes were the slightly thinner ones, covered on the outside with an insulating layer for steam pipes.

The round wooden tables in the tavern were all empty. With few patrons, only three customers were sitting around a table far from the bar, gambling with cards, beside a landscape oil painting of snowy mountains on the wall.

They were three men who didn't seem very affluent; although their clothes had no patches, the dark garments were washed out, and their hats, obviously worn for a long time, were wrinkled and piled together on the table.

Perhaps they were merely seeking a break on this leisurely summer afternoon. Shard did not disturb them and headed towards the bar where the bartender stood, intending to buy just a glass of iced water. Instead, he heard a cheer from one of the card players:

"I won again!"

The middle-aged man with a bushy beard and messy hair stood up, very smugly tossing the cards onto the table:

"Look, exact 21 points."

He looked around proudly, but unfortunately, there were only his friends and himself. Seeing Shard who had just entered, his eyes lit up:

"A drink of barley wine for this gentleman!"

The man who won the card game but was not wealthy told the bartender, and Shard, surprised, turned to look at him and after a moment's pause, he nodded slightly to show his thanks:

"Thank you for the offer, but I think a glass of iced water will suffice."

He was not good at drinking, and he did not know the alcohol content of the so-called "barley wine," plus he was currently on a detective assignment, so there was no need to indulge in alcohol.

And clearly, a glass of water was much cheaper than a glass of wine. The three men thought Shard was trying to save them money, so they instantly took a liking to him. Seeing that Shard was without companions, they invited him to join them in the card game.

But Shard did not know how to play and could only watch them from the sidelines. However, the men were enthusiastic about teaching Shard the skill of playing Roder Card.

The playing cards in this world were very similar to the poker cards from his previous world, with the same four suits and a total of 54 cards, only the suits were the sun, moon, stars, and flowers.

The mainstream method of playing cards was similar to the "21 points" rule, called "Roder Card". Other games like Solitaire, Old Maid, and High-Low also existed, but Roder Card was the most popular worldwide, and it is said the inventor was named Roder.

The playing cards were typically designed with a picture on the front and the suit and number marked in the upper left and right corners. Therefore, sets of special cards issued during specific times were particularly valuable.

The most recent special series of Roder Card was limited to 1000 sets and named the "Fairy Tale Series".

The three men playing cards were not wealthy and were not very familiar with the so-called Special Roder Cards, so they could only provide a rough idea.

They only knew that a portion of the nobility was crazily pursuing those rare cards. Particularly, some cards had not only special patterns but also contained special game rules.

Those cards were worth a fortune. There were rumors that last year, the Biford Auction House sold a Special Card for twelve thousand pounds.

Shard quietly calculated the costs and thought about the "Sun 3" tucked into his diary. He didn't feel like laughing; he profoundly doubted whether the card he inherited was genuine.

But if the card with the woman holding up Silvermoon was real, his last bit of worry about future life would disappear.

After chatting with the three card players in the tavern for an hour, Shard got up and left. When he returned to the entrance of the newspaper office, the spot next to the mailbox had been taken by a young man in a brown vest wearing glasses.

That was probably a real reporter, so the young detective moved to stand next to a Black Iron streetlamp instead.

The streetlamp was generally cylindrical and also used gas as its fuel source. Shard had been standing leisurely by its side, but his eyes inadvertently caught a glance of the nameplate. The plate explicitly warned not to smoke under the streetlamp post, or bear the consequences oneself.

Shard imagined what could happen and subconsciously moved away from that dangerous spot.

The day gradually waned, and Shard kept patiently waiting. After the feeling of hunger reached its peak and disappeared in the afternoon, his body felt much better. He planned to wait until around five o'clock, and if Lady Lassoya still didn't show up, he would head to the Church of War and Peace to collect Relief Food.

He also intended to see what the church in this world was all about and verify whether the church possessed Supernatural Powers.

"However, with that voice in my head, will I be captured as soon as I enter? And there's the secret of the Outlander..."

He was somewhat worried about this, but without any knowledge of the situation, Shard's choices were actually quite limited.

Perhaps noticing Shard was thinking about her again, the woman's voice in his mind spoke up:

[Observe his ring.]

This message had appeared at noon, only the pronoun then was feminine, while this time it was masculine.

Shard immediately looked up at the club entrance and saw a young man carrying a briefcase step out, with a white egg-shaped stone ring on his right hand, the same one he had seen on Lady Lassoya's finger at noon.

Because of its unique design, Shard was confident he was not mistaken.

Both of them wore the ring on the middle finger of their right hand, but the voice in his head gave no further hints.

"Interesting, why did the owner of the ring change?"

As Shard thought to himself, he watched the man with the ring leave the club and, instead of looking for an empty carriage, blend into the evening crowd, following behind a fat man with a briefcase in a hurry, walking east along the street.

The fog of Steam City blurred his figure, and if Shard did not pursue, he would soon lose track of the man.

"Should I follow? The voice in my head definitely isn't just speaking without reason."

He thought to himself, then turned away from the direction of the club entrance, unfolded the map tucked in his notebook to one-eighth of its size, and looked for the direction to the Church of War and Peace. The church that distributed Relief Food was to the east of his current location, and it was already close to five o'clock.