He pushed open the window to reveal a secluded back alley.
After confirming that no one was watching, he dragged his somewhat cumbersome long skirt and stepped out onto the window ledge in unfamiliar women’s ankle boots, climbing outside.
This was also why he had chosen Room 109; a beautiful, strange woman walking boldly out the front door would have been far too conspicuous.
Stepping onto solid ground, Levi gradually grew accustomed to the outfit, and his pace became more light-footed.
She walked quickly toward the end of Windmill Street, where there was a public carriage stop.
Taking a carriage across two streets would lead to Daffodil Street, but before reaching the stop, the environment of Windmill Street was extremely hostile for a beautiful young woman.
As Levi passed quickly by a large pile of clutter on the roadside, a drunkard lying there looked up and whistled:
“Hey, girlie, your ass is so plump.
How many pence for a good feel?”
“I don’t think you’d be happy paying to touch a bunch of cotton…”
Levi grumbled inwardly, ignored the drunkard, and quickened his pace through the area.
Ten minutes later, Levi arrived safely at the public carriage stop.
Along the way, several malicious gazes had fallen upon him, as if sizing up a succulent roasted lamb chop.
“Whew…
the environment on Windmill Street is truly terrible.
I must make sure to protect Emily.
Hmm, I should have her dress more plainly when she goes out, or if it comes down to it, smear some dust on her face…”
While waiting for the carriage, Levi thought to himself.
Most women on Windmill Street wore filthy work uniforms, looked ordinary, and appeared haggard and exhausted.
Those who were glamorous and beautiful were almost all streetwalkers.
At that moment, a middle-aged man wearing a top hat approached Levi and asked softly:
“How could a beautiful and dignified lady like yourself be here alone?
Where are you going?
Would you like me to escort you back?”
Levi was startled, then quickly began to reflect:
“True, my attire is out of place on Windmill Street.
It’s too beautiful, and more importantly, too dignified.
Perhaps next time I should learn from those streetwalkers and dress more flamboyantly to avoid being noticed immediately…”
Reflecting on himself, Levi replied as politely as possible:
“Thank you, but please don’t trouble yourself.
I’m almost home.”
The middle-aged gentleman shook his head and asked with concern:
“Miss, do you work on Windmill Street?”
Levi hesitated for a moment, then, following the principle of going along with whatever the other person said, simply nodded.
The middle-aged gentleman was not deterred by Levi’s coldness and continued to press:
“What kind of work do you do on Windmill Street?
There aren’t many jobs there worthy of your status.”
“Tutor.”
Levi thought for a moment and spoke the words flatly.
“A tutor?” The middle-aged gentleman’s tone suddenly became excited.
“Allow me to introduce myself.
I am Ronan Keen, a member of the Tingen Female Teachers Mutual Aid Society.
Perhaps I can offer you some assistance?”
“You…
the Tingen Female Teachers Mutual Aid Society?”
Levi was surprised.
The Mutual Aid Society did have male members, but they were all Beyonders like Jason.
Could this middle-aged man be a Beyonder as well?
Levi immediately became alert, sizing up Ronan Keen carefully.
Ronan didn’t mind and gave a friendly smile:
“My daughter is a teacher at Daffodil Primary School.
She was the first to join the Tingen Female Teachers Mutual Aid Society, and later, inspired by her, I joined as well.
I’m dedicated to improving the situation for female teachers in Tingen.
Well, there are other male members like me in the society; it’s not unusual.”
Levi nodded slightly.
This wasn’t hard to understand, much like how there were always a few boys in girls’ schools back in his home country.
He gathered his thoughts and offered a sweet smile:
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.
Ronan.
My name is…
Livier.”
“Hello, Miss Livier!”
For the rest of the journey, Ronan spoke incessantly about the Mutual Aid Society’s efforts to improve the employment environment for female teachers in Tingen, which included providing tutoring and assistance to women aspiring to become teachers.
“Maybe I can have Emily join this organization…”
Levi thought silently, feeling that not everything this middle-aged gentleman said was useless.
Finally, Ronan got off at the stop before Levi’s.
He bid farewell to the beautiful young ‘lady’ with lingering enthusiasm:
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Livier.
If you ever need anything, be sure to come to No.
32 University Street.
Both the second and third floors belong to our Mutual Aid Society.”
“Alright, thank you, Mr.
Ronan.
You truly are a gentleman.”
Levi responded with a smile.
“The Goddess will bless you to leave Windmill Street soon.
Praise the Goddess!”
Ronan tapped four points on his chest to draw the Crimson Moon, using a blessing as his parting words.
As a member of the Mutual Aid Society, he naturally believed in the Evernight Goddess, who supported women’s work.
Levi froze for a moment, unsure whether he should draw the triangular holy emblem of the Church of Steam he originally believed in, or act according to his persona and praise the Goddess along with Mr.
Ronan.
Few members of the Mutual Aid Society believed in other churches.
The image of that red Moon flashed through his mind, along with the pale face pressed against the window under the moonlight, and Emperor Roselle’s warning:
Beware of the Moon!
Levi swallowed hard and made no gesture at all.
He was now filled with dread toward the Crimson Lord who controlled the Moon.
“Could it be that this world is just one giant farm, and the so-called orthodox gods are merely raising believers to satisfy their own needs?”
Levi couldn’t help but have such thoughts, but he instinctively felt it was a blasphemy against the deities and quickly stopped his train of thought.
Although he trusted his fellow countryman Roselle more than the seven orthodox gods, the ‘Moon’ didn’t necessarily refer to the Evernight Goddess; it could mean something else.
Amidst his thoughts, the carriage reached the stop.
Levi got off and walked another three hundred meters along University Street until he reached the entrance of the Flamingo Bar.
The sound of intense drumbeats drifted out from inside.
A provocatively dressed, glamorous woman stood outside, hawking in a bold tone:
“My dear university students, we have the sexiest striptease performances and the most fashionable masquerade balls!
Come and purge your brains before they’re burst by all that damn knowledge!”
Levi awkwardly pushed through the door into the establishment amidst the woman’s winks.
Without the walls to block it, the sound of drums and instruments roared in his ears.
Young men and women below wore various masks, twisting their bodies excitedly and shouting loudly; the atmosphere was joyous yet seemingly filled with an academic air.
“I feel like the university students in this world know how to party even better than we did…”
While Levi was complaining internally, a waiter approached with a large stack of masks:
“Beautiful lady, every Monday is Masquerade Night.
We suggest all guests wear a mask and join the revelry.”
“This must be an arrangement to ensure those attending the gathering don’t reveal their true faces.
Wearing a mask on top of cross-dressing—that’s certainly cautious.
But it’s for the best; the risk of my exposure is even lower.”
As Levi thought this, he used his last 8 pence to buy a mask that was wide at the top and narrow at the bottom, with two hand-like straps on the sides that wrapped around to the back of the head.
He didn’t like the mask; its strange shape reminded him of a female reproductive organ, but it was the only mask he could afford for 8 pence.
He had no choice.
Levi put on the mask and wandered around various corners of the bar for a while to prevent anyone from connecting him with his pre-masked self.
Then he walked to the counter and said to the bartender who was wiping a goblet:
“A glass of Lylangchi, mixed with some absinthe, and add two large scoops of ice.”
This was the secret signal to join the gathering.