It is morning. The sun has risen, fresh whiff of air twinkle and about as Sherlock got up from his bed.

He dress up in his suit, a different one from his normal routine attire from William. As he nudge his collar, he could feel a comfy feeling similar to the one William gave him, albeit different in appearance.

Finally, he sat down on his bed. With one hand lurking down to the side of the bed, he pushed a hidden button.

Clank.

The sound of a fractured opening echo in the room. Sliding through the side of the bed, Sherlock took out a piece of skin-like object, then closed the small pocket space back.

[Crudely-Made Hed Mask]

Sherlock pulled out a yellow-tinted coin from his chest pocket, glancing at the carving — professor.

During his meeting with Arwin, he requested for an item that can disguised his identity. Arwin was adamant at first regarding his request, stating the cost of such items. However, when exposed to the coin, he agreed.

Clearly, this isn’t an ordinary coin. He guessed that Arwin believe he is the owner of the coin, but truthfully, this was Luke. Sherlock did not ask more about the coin, afraid that Arwin will change his mind knowing that he's not the true owner of the coin.

This mask is highly desirable, as it allow him to change his face, avoiding the trouble of dealing with his pursuer when doing dangerous task.

Sherlock took a gray coat hanging on the wall.

He placed the mask inside one of the few hidden pockets inside the coat. After he was done, he took out a box of Cartridge beneath his bed.

Sherlock filled a specially made case full of [High Grade D Steam Rifle Bullet], separated from his normal case. Then placed the case in his inner pocket while stocking a few case worth of bullet into his outer pocket.

It’s not strange to carry firearm around in Shelbur, it wouldn’t draw any attention. But outside Shelbur is not the same, it’s best to hide it in plain sight to prevent garnishing ample of attention.

After Sherlock was done, he adjust his outfit a bit with the help of a mirror hanged on the wall, then put on his top hat.

The steps were short as he step down the staircase.

“Mr. Sherlock, are you heading out again today?” Lena, who is leaning on the counter with the support of her slender palm asked.

“Yes Lena. I have some business to take care of outside the town this time around. I don’t think I will be back soon.” Sherlock put on a pity look, expressing his adversary.

“What a pity, I was going to invite you to a dinner tonight.” Sherlock smiled at Lena joking choice of words.

“Tell William I’m leaving for somewhere if he does visit. I’ve already asked the boss, he’s aware that I’m leaving, but I’ve yet to tell William.” Lena nodded, remembering his words, then sent him a good luck wish.

After talking to Lena for a moment, he pull down his top hat, placing it in his hand as he perform a bow motion — a common gesture that suit a gentleman in Shelbur.

From his apartment, he travel east, the same direction that he once came from. Although he lived here for a week, he has gotten used to the atmosphere and dynamic of the town as the people tends to include fugitive, runaways, and criminal alike.

Some are chased away from home due to war, others are convicted with crime, meanwhile few had no where left to go but here, a town of nameless individuals.

As he cross the street, a couple of thugs openly sat in front of the sidewalks.

Apparently, when he entered Shelbur for the first time, it was coincidently a holiday where people stay off the street, which explains why it was desolate at time.

During his days as a bodyguard, he spent some time deciphering the cryptic message, coming to a conclusion that it’s an imagery of a location.

[In the evergreen forest]

Around Shelbur, green forest is not very common, as most of the trees are strangely purple in color, with sometime a tint of red.

At the north of Shelbur entrance is a green forest, about a couple of mile far. In fact, it may be the only green forest within a ten-thousands mile radius according to a map he purchased days ago.

Travelling to the forest takes him no more than half an hour on feet. He stopped in front of the forest to take a breather.

‘Between life and death’ was quite simple, indicating the border between the lustful greenery and the dreadful gloomy forest. Bright color usually represent life while darker color represent death. Even so, this is still a large region he has to search.

He took out the [Crudely Made Hed Mask], then placed it on his face, feeling a very cold sensation inching across his skin. This lasted for a moment before it stopped.

He move his hand around his face, feeling a very odd shape of the face he's not used to. After a moment, he kept telling himself to stop scratching his face, resuming his journey into the forest.

A few days ago, he scout the border between the various forest, searching for the last clue.

[There was a fallen tree].

He spent an entire evening before stumping upon an odd tree that had it roots dug out from the ground.

The tree covers the vast other area of the forest, while this fallen tree surrounding is emptied.

“Strange… Nothing is happening.” Sherlock walks around the tree, looking for any hidden part and pieces.

After a period of time, he removed his rifle from his back. He unwrap the cover, revealing a gleaming rifle the length of his arm, decorated with various brass and copper that spiral from one edge to the other.

Meanwhile, the glass barrel gave out a blinding ray from the baring of the sun as he carefully tend his weapon.

This is his way of letting time brush past his shoulder. The process of checking, cleaning, and making sure that his gun is functioning properly is a new-found hobby.

Sherlock had wondered if this is the trait of [Marksman], but clearly, no one is able to answer that question except for himself.

After half an hour, a rustling sound came through the shrubs.

His muscle tensed up, with the gun holstered in his hand, he aimed behind the tree.

"No need to fire, we are all friends."