Chapter 397: City Hall
This novel is translated and hosted on bcatranslation.com
In the city-state of Frost, the weather shifted swiftly from calm to another round of heavy snowfall. As morning broke, the sky was already filled with ominous clouds, heavy and dark like blocks of lead. A wild, icy wind howled through the streets, setting a chilling stage. By midday, the first snowflakes began to fall, and soon, the entire city, from its highest towers to its smallest alleyways, was blanketed in a thick layer of snow, creating a captivating winter scene.
The sudden snowfall quieted the usually bustling streets of Frost. Most residents hurried indoors, leaving the city unusually silent. Amid this tranquility, the screeching brakes of a steam car sounded particularly loud.
A stately grey vehicle pulled up in front of City Hall. As the car door opened, Agatha stepped out, dressed in her customary black attire. With a determined stride, she made her way towards the imposing edifice that dominated the city.
She looked up at the grand structure, its architecture a relic from the era of monarchy, exuding a timeless dignity and grandeur. The majestic pillars, graceful arches, and intricate roof designs were a sight to behold. Though its name had changed from “Winter Court” to “City Hall,” its significance within the city remained undiminished.
City Hall, along with the Silent Cathedral, stood as the dual pillars of power in Frost, sheltering the city and its valuable mining ores. Like a historical text etched in stone, this monumental building held within its walls the ever-changing tale of power dynamics and significant personalities. Whether during the age of queens and kings or the contemporary administrative governance, each era was recorded in this living history book.
Agatha’s brow furrowed as she massaged her temple. She realized she had been lost in thought again, her mind wandering like a dreamy poet. This wasn’t the first time; in recent days, she often found herself distracted or feeling inexplicably restless.
This was a troubling development. As a sentinel of the city-state, she needed to maintain a sharp, focused mind, free from daydreaming – a luxury she could not afford.
Her introspection was interrupted by approaching footsteps. A quick glance revealed a senior secretary, clad in a dark blue coat, walking towards her.
“Miss Agatha,” greeted the young man, who served as the assistant to the city administrator, bowing respectfully, “The governor has been informed of your arrival. He awaits your presence in the dome office.”
“A direct approach would be beneficial,” Agatha nodded, “Proceed ahead.”
In a spacious office, topped with a round dome on the highest floor of City Hall, sat the incumbent governor of Frost, Winston, behind an imposing curved desk.
Winston was a burly man, carrying more weight than necessary, cloaked in an extravagant bright blue coat adorned with medals and ribbons. The demands of managing a declining city-state were visibly taxing. His hair had thinned considerably, forcing him to wear a curly wig to cover his bare scalp. As Agatha entered the domed office, she noticed the governor engrossed in adjusting a small brass mechanical device on his desk.
The intricate mechanical object resembled a miniature model. Its tightly interconnected gears and linkage structures were delicately designed, bordering on being art pieces. Under Winston’s manipulations, the device intermittently emitted a clear, pleasing sound.
“It’s unexpected that you find time to dabble with mechanical models amidst your pressing political responsibilities,” Agatha’s voice echoed from across the desk, “I was under the impression that the city-state’s recent circumstances demanded all your attention.”
“This isn’t merely a model; it’s a prototype for the next generation mining car traction. It promises to conserve thirty percent of energy while offering enhanced reliability and durability compared to its predecessor,” Governor Winston responded earnestly, looking up from his contraption, “Although we face mounting challenges in our city-state, it doesn’t justify halting our progress and evolution.”
Agatha remained silent, not challenging his viewpoint.
Governor Winston had always been deeply fascinated with mechanics and engineering. During his twelve-year tenure as governor, he had channeled most of his energy into supporting engineering design firms and mechanical manufacturing factories. He seemingly aimed to address the city-state’s ongoing crisis through technological innovations, including modernizing obsolete facilities and exploring new economic catalysts. However…
While his concept was commendable, his conviction high, and efforts abundant, the stark reality was an uphill struggle.
“Technological breakthroughs can facilitate renovations of mining facilities at a manageable expense. Practical, innovative machinery could also find potential markets in other city-states. Frost can’t continue to rely solely on metal ore exports for survival,” Winston, noticing Agatha’s tepid response, elaborated further, “The metal mines are indeed Frost’s lifeline, but a pillar founded on a single industry is bound to be fragile…”
“I am not a functionary in the domains of economics or technology,” Agatha gently reminded him.
“Ah, of course, I seem to have overlooked that,” Winston acknowledged, setting the mechanical model aside on his desk. He looked up at Agatha, shifting the conversation back to more pertinent matters, “Let’s proceed to the issue at hand then, Ms. Agatha. Regarding the exploration of the Second Waterway, I understand you have some concerns?”
“The exploration team encountered an issue beneath the connection well in Central Zone Two,” Agatha disclosed, “This corridor is situated near the base of the metal mine. Some sections of the pipeline branch exhibit signs of tampering, yet the entrance to the subsequent connection section is obstructed. I directed the exploration team to forcibly clear the obstacles in the Second Waterway. However, they reported finding a lead seal and a plaque left by City Hall affixed to the door.”
“A lead seal and plaque from City Hall?” Winston attempted to mask his shock, “Are you certain about this?”
Agatha studied Winston’s reaction closely. After a prolonged silence, she finally spoke in a low voice, “It appears you were not privy to this.”
“That’s the Second Waterway, abandoned for over fifty years. Its last known usage dates back to the reign of the Frost Queen!” Winston protested, throwing up his hands in disbelief, “Even if there were any lead seal or plaque down there, it would certainly be remnants from the Queen’s era. The idea of City Hall leaving anything behind is ludicrous. Are you insinuating that I covertly sealed that doorway? To what end? To hoard treasure deep underground?”
“You indeed lack a logical motive,” Agatha nodded, “If you truly wished to conceal something of value, there are undoubtedly more secure locations within the city-state than the unpredictable Second Waterway.”
“I’d rather not entertain such far-fetched speculations,” Winston dismissed, his countenance turning serious, “Was there no discernible date or name of the person responsible on the plaque? A standard plaque should bear such details. Identifying who locked the door should be straightforward based on this.”
“Regrettably, all inscriptions are tarnished and hard to decipher. Both the plaque and the lead seal are substantially corroded. Even the door itself is in a fragile state. We suspect the acidic environment within the strata near the mine has expedited the deterioration of the metal,” Agatha relayed, shaking her head, “All we can verify is that the door was indeed secured by City Hall. Lead seals of that specific design wouldn’t have existed during the Queen’s reign.”
A visibly irritated Winston rose from his seat, pacing anxiously behind the large desk. After what seemed like an eternity, he halted and murmured, “If it truly was the handiwork of City Hall, it must date back a considerable time, likely the first or second municipal government following the Queen’s reign…”
“It appears your predecessors were not thorough in passing down all pertinent documents to their successors,” Agatha remarked with a hint of dry humor.
“The early period of transition was marked by turmoil. It’s likely some documents were either lost or damaged,” Winston retorted, “Nevertheless, the existence of a sealed area deep underground at the heart of the city, sealed under City Hall’s directive, is quite irregular. This matter warrants a comprehensive investigation, Ms. Agatha.”
“Naturally, it’s part of my duties,” Agatha responded, her features softening, “While I may not have procured the answer I sought, having your assurance of support is valuable. The exploration will proceed, and I aim to unveil what lies behind that door at the earliest. The Death Church will ensure City Hall is promptly notified of any developments.”
“That’s reassuring to hear,” Winston nodded, the tension easing slightly.
“I shan’t impose upon your time any further,” Agatha declared, “There are several aspects of the Second Waterway that require my personal attention.”
Having bid the governor a polite farewell, she turned and exited the domed office.
Agatha’s retreating figure vanished from the room, leaving only the gradually fading echoes of her cane tapping and heels clicking against the floor. After a significant pause, Winston let out a soft sigh, his brow furrowing in puzzlement.
“Ms. Agatha chose not to use ‘Greywind’ for transportation today…” The slightly overweight middle-aged governor murmured to himself, “It appears she can also walk in and out through the regular entrance, doesn’t it?”
When will Captain Duncan meet the “fake” Agatha?
When will Dog meet the “fake” Agatha?
When will Alice meet the “fake” Agatha?