Chapter 169. Search
Having changed into her new outfit, Margaret sauntered along the bustling streets of the harbor district. With people passing by her without sparing a second glance, her spirits lifted, and she started humming a jovial tune.
Taking in her surroundings as she strolled, her sensitive nose suddenly picked up the scent of charred delights.
"Gina, look! There's a stall selling charcoal-grilled mackerel. Let's have a bite."
Grabbing Gina by the wrist, the duo sprinted toward a food stall in the distance. The driver had also changed into a modest outfit and was vigilantly observing their surroundings.
His tense expression only relaxed ever so slightly when he caught sight of a dark silhouette on the rooftop where light didn't reach.
The officers from District 7 had arrived. The harbor would be safe for now.
With a grilled mackerel skewer in hand, Margaret continued on her path forward. The people around her weren't particularly clean and well-groomed, and the ground had occasional puddles of murky water and strewn litter, Margaret felt happy walking down such streets for some inexplicable reason.
The harbor district was ever so lively, bustling and chaotic.
Everyone was hustling for their daily lives.
Ships of varying sizes crisscrossed the waters, and numerous steamboats were anchored at the docks to load and unload cargo. Sturdy laborers, drenched in sweat, tirelessly transported goods to and fro.
Gina covered her nose as she sidestepped to avoid a group of sailors smoking cigarettes. "Miss, are you really having fun here? I heard that the Tuna Theatre had released a new romantic play. Shall we go there instead?"
Margaret shook her head and said, "Those plays are all the same, portraying how love will overcome all odds and receive a happy ending. The new play is just the same plot line repackaged with new identities for the male and female protagonists. Reality is far from that."
Unswayed by Gina's suggestion, Margaret continued her exploration of the harbor area. At the sight of any tantalizing food or intriguing activities, she wouldn't hesitate to stop and give it a go herself.
As they ventured deeper, the street grew narrower, and a pungent smell started to fill the air. A couple of deranged figures could also be seen around the corners. Embark on a quest to the commencement at n0v#lbin★
Spotting these disheveled madmen, Margaret let out a sigh.
She knew she wouldn't be able to do much for them.
Even if she were to send this group that she saw to the asylum, a fresh wave would replace them soon enough. They were the ever-present specters of the district, appearing and vanishing without a trace.
Margaret walked past them and continued her way. Before long, she had arrived at the outskirts of the harbor district.
A shabby hut stood by the seaside. Apart from a young boy munching on his food at the doorway, there was no one else in sight.
Intrigued, Margaret approached with a smile on her face. "Hey, your food looks delicious. What are you having?"
She reached out a trembling hand to wipe the filth of the lunatic's face. At the sight of that distinctive scar that marred his face, her emotions crumbled. She threw herself into his embrace and burst into tears.
In the Governor's Mansion, the pristine ivory tub was swiftly tainted black from all the grime, only to be rapidly rinsed away by warm water.
With reddened eyes, Margaret tenderly wiped the dirt off Charles' face with her own face towel.
Gina, her head attendant, stood agape and watched in disbelief.
The young mistress actually refuses to let me help and insists on bathing this lunatic herself?!
Gina was well aware of her young mistress' innate aversion to men. However, she was tending so affectionately to a madman.
Who in the world is he?
When the layers of filth were washed away, Charles' visage was presented before Margaret. A thick beard covered most of his lower face, his unkempt hair tumbled wildly about, and there was a certain weariness in his eyes.
The black ink from the tattoo on his neck had crawled up to his face, making him nearly unrecognizable from the man she had known three years ago.
Margaret's fingertips gently traced over the scars that crisscrossed his chest, tears welled up in her eyes.
How much have you suffered all these years? How did you end up like this?
"Mr. Charles," Margaret softly called out. "Do you remember me? I'm Margaret."
Charles' eyes stared blankly into space; Margaret's words had failed to attract his attention.
Margaret lowered her head as an array of emotions—pain, worry, anxiety, and heartache—welled up within her.
"AAAHHH!" A sudden sharp cry pulled Margaret out of her grieving state.
"Gina, what's wrong?" Margaret asked.
"Miss, look at his amputated shoulder...." Gina's voice trembled with a tinge of terror.
Margaret's gaze turned toward the stump of Charles' missing arm to find it infested with writhing white maggots. They wriggled and burrowed eagerly into the flesh.
"Mr. Charles, wait here! I'll get a doctor right away!" Panic consumed Margaret as she dashed toward the bathroom door.
Just as she flung the door open and turned, she crashed into a solid, muscular chest.
She lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of her brother, Jack.
"Where are you going?" Jack asked with a calm expression.