I will be crowned king

Faced with Lisa's "concern", Anson could only smile and express his gratitude, and at the same time vowed that he would not stop her from doing so if it was really needed.

Thinking back to her appearance in front of the novelist named Draco, Anson vaguely felt that the little girl next to him seemed a little different from when they first met.

The Lisa in my memory would never be able to quietly wait for her to appear in a crowded station with nothing happening, let alone say things like "kill someone" so easily.

Could it be that something happened to him that he didn't know about when he was "resurrected"?

Anson, muttering in his heart, looked at the scenery outside the car window and prepared to write this matter in his diary before going to bed at night.

Because a certain "talkative novelist" was not there, the next few dozen minutes of journey seemed very peaceful; with nothing to do, he even looked at the business card handed to him by the other party.

On the wrinkled hard card, there was only the other party's name, occupation and the address of the newspaper "Clovis Truth".

Worn leather suitcases, old coats, crumpled business cards...

Would a freelance writer who writes second-rate biographical novels for middle- and lower-class popular newspapers and can’t even afford a better suitcase or a new coat deliberately choose a second-class box?

Anson, who was a little confused in his heart, couldn't help but think about the problem in the other person's way, and subconsciously took out his pocket watch from his jacket pocket.

It's ten minutes past eleven...it's twenty minutes until meal time on the train.

He just said... going to the dining car to see what's on offer for lunch today?

"Lisa."

"Um?"

The little head that was lying on the window looking at the scenery was raised back.

"You stay in the box and don't move around. I'll buy you a cake."

"Cake?!" Lisa's eyes lit up:

"Is it that kind of beautiful, sweet thing called canned fruit? That stingy Carl gave me one just before he left!"

"……Roughly the same?"

After touching her forehead, Anson stood up and placed the pocket watch in front of Lisa, who was squinting in enjoyment: "Did you see the dial? I will be back when the long needle reaches 'six'."

"Um."

"Until then, no matter who knocks on the door—even the flight attendant who comes to deliver meals—don't open the door to him, do you understand?"

"yes!"

Lisa took the pocket watch and gave him a military salute with a serious face.

Anson nodded and buttoned the three buttons on the chest of his coat with a raised collar, slightly covering up the military uniform underneath. After confirming again that the box door was locked from the inside, he walked towards the dining car with confidence.

There were only two carriages 11 and 12 separated from his position to the dining room, and there was no one in the carriage passage - because the Steel Sky provided meal delivery services for first- and second-class carriages, and there were only two cars in the spacious and bright carriage. Some men of about the same age wearing similar formal suits sat by the window smoking and chatting, or drinking alone in front of the bar in a slightly decadent manner.

There are no women.

And...there was no sign of a certain novelist who said he wanted to go to the dining car to "check out the dishes."

"It's really not surprising at all..."

Anson, who was muttering to himself in a low voice, walked towards the waiter at the bar - considering that he had been noticed by the blood mage Kroger in Thunder Castle, he did not use his "power" to search directly.

Although this chance is not high, spellcasters who believe in the old gods are the key surveillance targets of the Church of Order. Even if they are discovered, they dare not expose them in broad daylight.

Including Anson himself.

"Have a glass of rum, oh...and a piece of cake by the way, help me put it together."

Anson, who had had the experience of "negotiating" with a flight attendant once, smiled at the waiter in front of the bar while taking out the money: "Can I ask you a little question by the way?"

"What brand of rum do you want?" The waiter in neat uniform and wearing a small hat turned back as if he didn't hear his last sentence.

"Navy Special."

Anson shrugged slightly...he only knew this kind.

Glancing at the army officer's uniform under his coat, the somewhat surprised waiter nodded and looked behind him without looking back:

"Three silver coins, a piece of cake, and a glass of Tirpitz rum with ice for this gentleman!"

Tens of seconds later, a glass of dark red liquid with ice cubes was brought to him. The square ice cubes filled at least one-third of the glass.

If I had known earlier, I would have asked for no ice. It was a trick of profiteers... Anson, with a smile on his face, placed six silver coins under the tray of the wine glass:

"I want to find someone."

"who?"

The calm waiter wiped the bar, and in the blink of an eye the silver coins on the table disappeared.

"A friend." Anson played with the wine glass in his hand: "His name is..."

"boom!"

The moment he opened his mouth, a loud bang opened the door of the dining car.

The smoky, whispering dining car suddenly fell silent.

Anson, who was holding the wine glass, followed the waiter's line of sight and looked behind him with the corner of his eye:

Three men wearing officer uniforms rushed into the carriage. The style of their clothes was very similar to that of the army but there were some differences. The cuffs were not the standard copper buttons of army officers but silver buttons. There was also a one-shoulder cape on the right shoulder that looked like the imperial uniform. Accessories.

While Anson was still filling up, the three people were already heading towards the bar. The leader stood directly beside Anson and glared at the waiter fiercely:

"There is a man with red hair in a ponytail coming towards the dining car. Did you see it?"

"I, I, I, I..." The trembling waiter's eyes went straight.

"Did you see it?! Talk!"

"No, no!"

The frightened waiter shrank his neck and almost fell backwards: "No such person comes to the dining car!"

The officer who heard this frowned, turned his head and looked at the two ugly-looking companions behind him, took a deep breath unwillingly, and slammed a bulging leather wallet on the table with a bang:

"Twenty gold coins, there are twenty gold coins in this wallet!" The officer in front of the bar shouted loudly to the entire dining car, his cold eyes scanning every pair of eyes that were either dodging or prying:

"Draco Vertes, red-haired, wearing a tattered light-colored coat - who can tell us where this man is? I swear on my king's behalf that this wallet belongs to him!"

In the blink of an eye, the atmosphere in the dining car changed slightly, but most people remained silent, pretending not to hear anything.

Anson, who was sitting next to the officer, continued to play with the wine glass in his hand, his expression thoughtful.

The anxious-looking officer waited there for five minutes. He glanced at the shivering waiter who hid under the bar and the silent passengers in the carriage. He snorted, grabbed his wallet, and hurriedly rushed out of the dining car with his two companions, facing down. Walking in a carriage.

No, that's not right.

The novelist left the box around 10:50, and it is now 11:17; if he knew from the beginning that someone was arresting him, why did he go to the box where he was and stay for so long... He took a sip After taking a sip of rum, Anson looked a little lost in thought.

At this moment, the waiter, who had been trembling under the bar just now, slowly stood up and walked in with a small piece of cake in his hands:

"Sir, your cake is ready... By the way, what did you want to ask just now?"

"Uh...nothing, I just..."

Anson, who subconsciously raised his gaze, suddenly stopped talking.

Holding the cake in both hands, Draco Vertes, dressed as a waiter, was looking at him with a smile!