The Divine Armor of the Old Century（Book 1）

Chapter 176

The scenery outside the window was flying by, the slowly falling snowflakes now speeding up, descending like a torrential rain.

"You seem to have a good appetite," Lloyd said, resting his chin on his hand, watching Celine stuff bread into her mouth.

The girl had now completely abandoned her noble demeanor, not caring about her image at all.

"It's just that I haven't had this kind of food in a long time," Celine swallowed the bread.

"Yahweh never lets me eat outside food; he says it's all junk food."

"I can see that. You're the heir of the Stuart family; he values you more than anything," Lloyd replied, also picking up a piece of bread. Even though demon hunters had extraordinary strength and endurance, hunger was still uncomfortable.

"The more he stops me, the more I want to eat it, so sometimes I sneak out," Celine said.

"Like when you came to find me?" Every time Celine came to see him, it always ended with Lloyd taking her out to eat, followed by Yahweh coming to fetch her.

"Probably," Celine replied.

Lloyd reflected on his own experiences and continued, "Actually, it's quite understandable."

"In the order, I often saw those things. The holy and noble priests, who sang praises to the gods on the surface, but secretly soaked in bars and casinos."

"One of them was a priest I once thought very devout, but he gambled the most joyfully in the casino. I asked him why he did it, and he said he didn't understand either. The more something is forbidden, the more it stirs human desire."

"The doctrine says it's the old century of humanity. In the face of terrible temptations, even the firmest faith can be shattered."

But curiosity... Is the desire to explore the unknown also part of the old century?

Lloyd pondered, his hand unconsciously reaching for the cigarette box in his pocket, which contained cigarettes laced with Windthorn.

"One day, I suddenly felt like I understood everything."

"Maybe sometimes people just need this kind of thing," he said.

"What thing?" Celine asked curiously.

"Forbidden pleasure," Lloyd answered mysteriously.

"The shackles of thought are temporary. The more you warn people, the less fear they feel, and instead... they become more curious."

"Like a flame," Celine said.

"Yes, I often hear people talk about the problem of educating children," Lloyd remembered Mrs. Van Luther telling him a story.

"No matter how you warn a child not to go near the fireplace, they still can't help but be curious and want to touch it. Instead of waiting for an incident to happen, it's better to let them feel the pain from the beginning so that they learn to fear the flame."

The conversation abruptly paused, and Lloyd sensed something, as if aware of a presence but unable to identify or describe it.

Humans and demons were much like everything in stories.

Lloyd seemed to glimpse the root of all things. Could demons be this "forbidden pleasure"?

No matter how much you warn, humans will eventually touch that unknown power. Rather than being caught off guard later, it's better to release it from the start and let humans learn to revere the unknown.

A sharp pain shot through his brain, as if punishing him for perceiving the truth.

Frowning, he couldn't help but light another cigarette, but before he could take out the box, Celine stopped him.

"Smoking is forbidden on the train," she said.

Lloyd paused, putting away the box, his expression slightly grim.

"I always thought someone like you wouldn't smoke," Celine said.

"For an ascetic, smoking might be the equivalent of drinking," Lloyd replied, shaking his head.

"Just to relieve some stress," he added.

"Then you can eat candy," Celine offered, extending her hand with colorful candy wrappers. No one knew if they were the strange-tasting ones.

"I eat candy when I'm stressed," she said casually, but Lloyd sensed something off.

"Do you feel stressed?" he asked.

Celine deliberately widened her eyes and feigned surprise.

"Oh, Mr. Holmes, since when have you been so perceptive?"

Her voice was elongated with sarcasm.

"I thought someone like you would never understand a girl's thoughts, but you're so sharp. Is it detective training? But you don't seem like a real detective!"

Lloyd couldn't help but cover his face partially. Once she caught on to something, she would relentlessly pursue it.

"I'm not stupid. It's important to care about the 'hostage's' mental state, isn't it?" he said.

"..." Celine didn't reply.

"Oh," she finally said, lowering her head and eating the bread again, the atmosphere turning silent once more.

Indeed, she felt some pressure—the pressure of death.

If Lloyd was right, this lunatic intended to fulfill his great ambition by using her to kill that rat named Lawrence.

"So crowded! Finally arrived!" A cheerful voice suddenly rang out, the owner likely a young, robust man. Lloyd found the voice familiar and looked up.

It was a middle-aged man with slightly graying hair, wearing black sunglasses... It was hard to determine his age because, although he looked quite old, his lively attitude made him seem very young. He greeted and smiled at every passenger as he entered the compartment, lifting the atmosphere like a joyous party.

Lloyd prayed he wouldn't sit opposite him; such attention-grabbing people were the most troublesome.

But then another familiar voice sounded, and Lloyd wondered if he was hallucinating. However, a familiar middle-aged man sat opposite him.

Lloyd was stunned, and the man seemed familiar with Lloyd too.

"Um... may I ask?" the man began, but another man took a seat, completing the group.

What you worry about always happens; it was the guy who lifted the atmosphere.

As he sat down, Lloyd's gaze froze, and so did the man's. Their eyes met, full of the warmth of long-lost brothers.

The old man lowered his sunglasses slightly, revealing lively eyes.

"Lloyd Holmes?" he asked.

Lloyd also lowered his tea-colored sunglasses a bit.

"Oscar Wilde, sir?" he replied.

Celine was at a loss, watching the two sudden acquaintances, while the middle-aged man beside them, Director Buscala, looked terrified at Lloyd's familiar face.

Though there were no obvious weapons, he knew that damn Winchester was nearby. He wanted to call the conductor but was clutching his chest, eyes wide, like a strangled duck.