The Return of the God Level Assassin

Hearing his soft, heart-wrenching sobs, Miss Thompson instinctively held Luo Yan closer, her arms tightening protectively around him. She gently patted his back, trying to soothe him as best she could. Unlike most children, who cried with loud wails, his tears came quietly—his small body trembling with a deep, silent grief that seemed to spill straight from his heart. Anyone who heard it would feel heartbroken.

"It's alright, Mary. It's alright."

Luo Yan seemed to be struggling to hold back his tears, embodying the role of a child worried about his mother, yet determined not to burden anyone else. His attempt at bravery only made him appear even more fragile and heart-wrenchingly pitiful.

He stole a quick glance at Miss Thompson and noticed her glaring sharply at the surrounding crowd. Seeing the people instinctively step aside to clear a path, he gave an inward nod of approval. This Miss Thompson, he thought, was proving to be quite capable.

Still cradling Luo Yan in her arms, Miss Thompson made her way toward their cabin. Moments later, the doctor who had volunteered to assist approached, a bulky medicine bag in hand. His gaze shifted to Miss Thompson, silently urging her to lead him to the injured person without delay.

Miss Thompson gave a brisk nod and pushed open the cabin door. Inside, her mother was desperately trying to stop the bleeding, her face etched with panic and worry. The doctor, recognizing the gravity of the situation at a glance, wasted no time. He stepped inside and gently, but firmly, took over from Mrs. Thompson.

The curious onlookers who had trailed behind craned their necks to see inside the cabin. Gasps of horror rippled through the group as they took in the scene. Some women turned pale, clutching at others for support, while a few even fainted at the sight of so much blood. Others muttered in shock, their voices trembling, while a handful instinctively stepped back, unable to bear the sight.

The doctor cast an irritated glance at the crowd before turning to Mrs. Thompson. "Madam, please find a train attendant and ask for a basin of hot water and fresh linen," he said firmly. His tone softened only slightly as he added, "And kindly close the door behind you on your way out."

Mrs. Thompson, flustered but eager to help, nodded quickly. "Yes, of course," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she hurried toward the door, already pulling it shut behind her.

"Mother, let me handle this," Miss Thompson said gently but firmly. "I'll go and get what the doctor needs. Please stay here and rest. I'll also ask someone to assist you so you can... freshen up a bit."

"Miss T-Thompson, p-please put me down," Luo Yan said in a timely manner. "I- I can stay with Mrs. Thompson."

Miss Thompson glanced at him with a soft expression, likely assuming his suggestion was meant to give her more freedom to move. After all, carrying him around would only slow her down in such a tense situation. Little did she know, Luo Yan's true intention was far less selfless—he simply wanted to better observe the surrounding people.

She put him down and patted her head gently. "Watch over Mother for me, okay?"

Luo Yan wiped his tears and nodded determinedly.

As Miss Thompson hurried off to find an attendant, Mrs. Thompson tried to comfort Luo Yan. However, before she could say much, the crowd closed in around them once more.

The crowd of passengers, clad in nightclothes and robes hastily thrown on, pressed closer, their faces pale in the dim light of the corridor lamps.

"What on earth happened in there?" an older man in a rumpled nightshirt demanded, his brow furrowed deeply.

"Was it an attack?" a woman clutching a shawl to her chest whispered urgently, her wide eyes darting toward the cabin door.

"Was it murder?" a younger man with disheveled hair and a crumpled robe asked, his voice shaky.

"Is she still alive?" another passenger, a woman in slippers, questioned anxiously, glancing at Mrs. Thompson and Luo Yan for answers.

"Did you see anything? Hear anything? Footsteps? Voices?" someone muttered from the back. Their tone sounded hushed, so it was hard to tell if they're a man or a woman.

The questions swirled around them like a storm, growing louder and more frantic with each passing moment.

Mrs. Thompson shielded Luo Yan, pulling him protectively behind her. She remained silent, her lips pressed tightly together, refusing to answer the barrage of questions.

From behind her, Luo Yan peeked out, his eyes scanning the crowd. He said nothing, but his gaze lingered on one figure in particular—an old man he distinctly remembered from the dining car earlier during lunch.

He was the elegantly dressed gentleman Luo Yan had noticed earlier, sitting alone at a table in the dining car. Luo Yan was certain the old man was a first-class passenger. So why was he here, in a second-class train car? More importantly, Luo Yan was sure it had been him who just asked about footsteps and voices.

He watched the old man carefully, trying to decide what to do. Then, to his shock, the other suddenly turned and met his eyes. The sharpness of the gaze hit Luo Yan like a jolt, freezing him in place. His breath caught, and before he realized it, he had already looked away.

YUN: [Yan Yan, any update on what's happening over there?]

Continue your saga on empire

White Marsh: [Is it the Ripper?]

AmazingYoungMasterJin: [Something seems to also be happening in the service car.]

Morganite: [I'm now on my way to Luo Yan's train car. Your Miss Thompson just asked me if I could assist her mother.]

As Luo Yan read through the flurry of messages from his teammates on the team channel, he realized he had yet to provide any updates since his last message about the woman playing as his mother being attacked. It had completely slipped his mind with everything happening around him.

Noctis: [Mrs. Winslow is likely Jack the Ripper's first victim on this train. I'm not sure if she's still alive. Also, I think I've just spotted someone who might actually be Sherlock Holmes.]