A slight peek out of the window reveals blue-gray clouds cascading overhead, the high sky seems to be within reach, a black haze stretches over the city's low buildings, and then you can see one sordid building after another stretching out towards the far end of the skyline.

Lacking sunlight, the dusty houses reveal a cold, damp dilapidation, the towering chimneys support the clouds that are getting closer and closer to the ground, the thick and choking smoke has begun to work, and the coarse particles swirl and fly in the air like volcanic ash, and the whole world seems to be getting dirtier and dirtier.

It's hard to tell if it's January or August just by looking at the gray skies that are overcast.

I thought about whether to answer the call of the bed and close my eyes and rest for a while at the risk of being haunted by nightmares, or whether to get dressed and go out to explore, first of all, to buy some food—a small half of bread in the middle of the night was really not enough, and secondly, to buy a newspaper.

Hoden chose the latter.

I thought that after a rollercoaster night, I should be very tired now, and I wanted to curl up in the bed and sleep hard for forty-eight hours, but unexpectedly, I was very conscious, a little nervous and timid, a little excited and curious, and a little vigilant and precautionary.

Even if you lie down, it is estimated that it will be a pancake, so it is better to go out and find out about the situation.

Horgan thought seriously about whether he should hide his whereabouts, pretend to be dead, and spend this dangerous period in a low-key manner when someone might be chasing him, waiting quietly for the limelight to pass.

But the problem is, where can he hide without knowing the place? If the other party has the heart, he can always track his whereabouts, and besides, his priority should be to figure out his situation, and find a way to solve the puzzle, and maybe solve the problem before the killer comes to the door.

Sit back and wait, that's not Holden's style of doing things.

And, trying to maintain a normal pace of life as much as possible, as if nothing had happened, and trying to blend in with the city's millions of people, is what Holden thinks is the best way to hide.

Open the wardrobe and change into a set of clothes.

A light gray collarless shirt with a smoky gray vest jacket, dark gray cargo pants with jet black leather shoes, and finally a dark gray newsboy hat complete the outfit.

Although the whole outfit is a little old, it is all cleaned and ironed neatly, the neckline and cuffs are not fluffy for the time being, and there are no indelible stains on the clothes.

Standing in front of the mirror, Hodden was looking at his reflection, but instead of checking whether he was dressed appropriately, he was checking the details of his costume:

It's very, very close to the style of the British on Earth, and if you think back to the outfit of the onlookers last night, it should be similar to the Hanoverian or Victorian style.

The shirt was a must-have item for every gentleman, and only a dock worker would wear a waistcoat, but even a shirt had a clear and strict distinction, the more aristocratic it was, the more cumbersome it was, and the more commoner it was, the simpler it was.

Because civilians had to work, their clothing was too cumbersome for daily work, so all the cumbersome parts were loaded and unloaded.

For example, collars, and cufflinks.

For example, hats – for workers, caps are much more convenient than top hats.

In addition, there are great differences in materials, with silk being the most expensive, followed by cotton, and linen still being the most widely used and convenient material. Although it is slightly rough to wear, it is cheaper, and it is light and airy, which is perfect for manual workers.

From shirts to waistcoats to bow ties and hats, and of course, the indispensable coats, the overall dressing style of different groups remains the same –

This is far less complex and diverse than the society that Holden is familiar with, and all kinds of bizarre outfits can always be eye-opening and even surprising, but the set of déjà vu in front of you can reflect the difference in the details:

You don't need to know the price level in detail to be able to easily judge that the Helo family is relatively poor, but they can still guarantee the minimum consumption.

Hodden is an ordinary poor student.

......

Crunchy.

The low sound of the steps coming down the wooden staircase, the faint sight of falling dust, and the fear of falling apart at any point, from the third floor to the first floor, push open the door, and the early morning hustle and bustle will come to you.

"The Ceylon Song and Dance Troupe from Kulan will officially take to the stage of the Iwabyn Grand Theatre this Saturday. ”

"His Royal Highness the Third Prince, Gaston Long Xiang, has confirmed that he will soon be a guest tutor at the Sykepace Academy. ”

"The little princess of the Deca family is confirmed to be baptized by the goddess Pomafu on the first of the next month. ”

Newspaper boys, pacing back and forth beside the dark red newsstand, are shouting and selling hard, adding a touch of life to the busy streets that come with people in the early morning.

Holden's footsteps hadn't had time to get closer, but just a sight of contact, the newsboy keenly caught the business opportunity, and trotted all the way up to meet him, "Sir, do you need a copy of the 'Iwabuchi Daily News'? Today's headlines are guaranteed to be shocking, and you will be interested." ”

"Give me a copy. Hodden said with a smile.

"No problem!" cried the newsboy, as if to show off to the other passers-by: "A newspaper has just been sold here, won't you have a copy?"

Just as Hodden was about to take the newspaper, he saw the newsboy take out a newspaper, put it on his left arm, and his right hand was clenched into a fist, and then he suddenly opened his five fingers, and a thin orange halo appeared in his palm, which gently slid against the surface of the newspaper, and the whole movement was slow but familiar.

Faintly, Hodden was able to catch a faint scorching smell in the mixed and fishy smell around him—"scorching" was the right adjective, and it was as if he had lit a fire on his fingertips last night.

In the middle of his thoughts, the newsboy had already done his job, raised his head, and showed a big smile to Holden, "Don't get your fingers dirty with ink stains." Then he handed the newspaper to Holden, "Thank you, sir." ”

It turns out that this is ironing the newspaper?

I had heard before that the English aristocracy had to do this every day, and the butler would iron the newspaper with an iron to make sure that all the ink stains were in order, and then the newspaper would appear in front of the nobles, but I did not expect to be able to see it up close today.

Moreover, he is not a noble lord, and he also enjoys such treatment.