A Portrait of Guilt

There you are! Hurry, come with me to the Salon.

Easy. Whatever this is, try using your words before grabbing milady by the wrist. Let go, or I stop being nice.

Ah! Sorry... I was in such a rush, I forgot to explain. It's about the photography contest, or rather, your photograph. There's been a problem with the photo you took, and it's causing quite a stir.

Mr Seaton asked me to bring you in. He'd like to speak with you directly.

I'll be right there.

Alright... I'll let Mr Seaton know.

They're the ones who picked that photo. What problem could they possibly have with it now?

I knew something felt off... Maybe they stirred this up themselves. We'll ask around later, see what shakes loose.

They're not trying to take your prize back, are they!?

The nerve! We are not handing it back. Little Minion, stand your ground! A prize won by my minion belongs to my minion, and no one gets to take it away! I'll protect you!

Ah, you've arrived. I'm afraid I must ask another favour of you. But first, please take a look at this poster.

What's this? A poster...? Let's see.

"Eisenbahn's Crimes Laid Bare! Suspected of Smuggling for Personal Gain! Unfit to Serve as Stationmaster!"

Wait. Isn't that the photo I took?

Indeed. In hindsight, the photograph does lend itself to certain unfortunate interpretations. Phoxichor is military property; any shipment of it would ordinarily be transported under military escort. Without that context, I can see how some people might have drawn the wrong conclusion.

The photograph has set the whole station talking. I would like you to act on behalf of both myself and the Steamwhistle Salon, and help settle these rumours before they spread any further.

The tenth-anniversary celebrations are almost upon us. They should be a joyous occasion for everyone. The Salon merely wished to enliven the festivities and pay tribute to Stationmaster Eisenbahn. We had no intention of causing him embarrassment.

Let me get this straight. You picked my photograph for your event, people started calling it evidence of Eisenbahn's crime, and now that it's caused trouble, you want me to clean up the mess?

No, no. Nothing of the kind. Everyone in the Steamwhistle Salon recognises the merit of your work. It won first prize fairly, and by unanimous decision.

If anything, perhaps its striking composition drew our attention away from certain details in the frame. That fault would be ours, not yours.

You proved yourself more than capable last time. We all have complete confidence in you.

...What exactly do you need me to do?

I need you to deal with those spreading the rumours. At a time like this, we cannot afford further complications. If this were to reach Stationmaster Eisenbahn... the consequences would be most unfortunate.

To cause Stationmaster Eisenbahn even the slightest displeasure would be unforgivable.

And while you are at it, I would like you to take the measure of public opinion around the station. Find out what people make of this rumour, then report back to me.

The answers you are looking for. I would not send you on an errand without compensation.

You know what I'm looking for?

Naturally... The inner circle of the Steamwhistle Salon was founded by people seeking the very same thing.

Go on, newcomer. I have every faith you will handle this beautifully.

Hey, you're back. What did Seaton want this time?

Does he ever do anything besides dump work on you? The Steamwhistle Salon has dozens of members, so why can't he send them? Are they all just there for show?

Little Minion, don't let him boss you around! Camilla taught me this: when someone tries to make you do something you don't like, you stand up straight and say "no"!

...What was he getting at with that last bit? The staff at the quiz and raffle had that same tone.

It's almost like they think you're already in on something...

What do you mean, "getting at"? He was baiting you, obviously! Hmph. Empty promises, that's all. Be careful, Little Minion. You're about to get OTSD!

...About to get what?

Outsidered! It's when Outsider talks you out of your ice cream with a lot of pretty words, and somehow makes you think you got the better deal. Then Camilla explains it to you later, and boom, you realise you were tricked all along!

Hey, I made it up to you, didn't I? One ice cream for three popsicles. That's a good deal.

Hmph! The ice cream and the three popsicles should all have been mine in the first place! I was still one ice cream short!

Let's start with the passenger area. You get all sorts passing through there, so we'll hear a bit of everything.

Stationmaster Eisenbahn... No. Just Eisenbahn. I really believed in you.

What happened?

You haven't heard? Eisenbahn was smuggling Phoxichor. It's right there in the photo. You don't really think he just happened to be passing by, do you?

I used to dream of joining the Steamwhistle Salon myself. I thought everything Eisenbahn did was for the good of the station. Even when his methods were harsh, I told myself there had to be a reason.

I should've known he was no good when he started stiffing workers on their pay.

And yet... I watched Bloomfield Station grow from a forgotten backwater into the Empire's Lifeline with my own eyes. Eisenbahn... he...

...I just don't understand why the Steamwhistle Salon would use a photograph like that for publicity.

...

I told you all Eisenbahn was a monster. But no one cares until the knife is at their own throat.

What happened?

Didn't you get one of those leaflets? The ones with "Tenth Anniversary Celebration" printed in big letters across the front.

Funny, isn't it? Eisenbahn spent years building that fine reputation of his, and in the end, his own worshippers brought him down. Serves him right.

Every worker hates him! That bastard is rotten to the core!

Eisenbahn denied treatment to sick workers. He took what we earned, and when we needed help, he left us to die!

My daughter... A length of rebar went straight through her arm, right here at the station. The wound festered, and she died in agony.

"Treating her and letting her live would only be a waste of food." That's what they said. To Bloomfield Station, workers were no different from bolts and screws. Once we rusted, they threw us out and replaced us.

But my daughter was a person! A living, breathing person! Vivian... she was named Model Child Worker again and again. She was still so young...

...Yeah. Bloomfield Station was built on the people it ground up. Feed enough flesh and blood into an engine, and it'll take you a long way.

That poor lady... Even I'd be scared climbing up that high. Her daughter must have been terrified...

Let's check the freight yard next. The merchants there might know something else.

A little scandal like this should be easy enough to contain. I'll just need to keep the workers quiet... I should have a word with Eisenbahn.

About what?

Newspapers. Headlines. Prices.

But judging by your attire... Ah, forgive me. How discourteous of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of The Northern Dispatch, along with several other newspapers and courier stations.

The Northern Dispatch may not carry much weight here in Icelake, but in Dismania it is one of the most widely read papers in circulation. Why, even His Imperial Majesty begins his mornings with a copy.

All I intend to do is discuss a small matter with the stationmaster. He is a reasonable man. I imagine he would prefer these stories not find their way to Dismania, and I am sure he can name a price that suits us both.

That's a pretty way to say blackmail. Eisenbahn isn't a pushover, you know. Push him too far, and you might not make it back to the capital.

That would be most unfortunate. But killing me would hardly solve his problem.

As a shrewd businessman, or a perceptive journalist, I know exactly what I am doing. I will ask for just enough to make payment preferable, and not quite enough to make murder worthwhile.

Heh... Well, since you are being so insistent, I will do my best to accommodate your wishes. But I'm afraid convincing everyone else won't be nearly this easy.

This is spreading faster than I expected. Think someone's giving it a push?

Or... maybe this is exactly what the Steamwhistle Salon wanted. Maybe they're steering the rumours themselves.

Let's keep digging. The concourse should give us a better picture.

How could Eisenbahn be this corrupt!?

I'm sure you've all seen it by now! Eisenbahn wears the face of a great stationmaster, but underneath it all, he's just another crook.

He uses his position to cut deals and line his own pockets. He must've made a fortune. And our ironworkers? They can barely afford a decent meal or clothes on their backs.

We kept telling ourselves he had his reasons. That things would turn around eventually. But now we know better. No more excuses!

That's why we must seize this moment! Stand together, raise our voices, and put an end to Eisenbahn's reign as stationmaster!

There you are! Hurry, come with me to the Salon.

Easy. Whatever this is, try using your words before grabbing milady by the wrist. Let go, or I stop being nice.

Ah! Sorry... I was in such a rush, I forgot to explain. It's about the photography contest, or rather, your photograph. There's been a problem with the photo you took, and it's causing quite a stir.

Mr Seaton asked me to bring you in. He'd like to speak with you directly.

I'll be right there.

Alright... I'll let Mr Seaton know.

They're the ones who picked that photo. What problem could they possibly have with it now?

I knew something felt off... Maybe they stirred this up themselves. We'll ask around later, see what shakes loose.

They're not trying to take your prize back, are they!?

The nerve! We are not handing it back. Little Minion, stand your ground! A prize won by my minion belongs to my minion, and no one gets to take it away! I'll protect you!

Ah, you've arrived. I'm afraid I must ask another favour of you. But first, please take a look at this poster.

What's this? A poster...? Let's see.

"Eisenbahn's Crimes Laid Bare! Suspected of Smuggling for Personal Gain! Unfit to Serve as Stationmaster!"

Wait. Isn't that the photo I took?

Indeed. In hindsight, the photograph does lend itself to certain unfortunate interpretations. Phoxichor is military property; any shipment of it would ordinarily be transported under military escort. Without that context, I can see how some people might have drawn the wrong conclusion.

The photograph has set the whole station talking. I would like you to act on behalf of both myself and the Steamwhistle Salon, and help settle these rumours before they spread any further.

The tenth-anniversary celebrations are almost upon us. They should be a joyous occasion for everyone. The Salon merely wished to enliven the festivities and pay tribute to Stationmaster Eisenbahn. We had no intention of causing him embarrassment.

Let me get this straight. You picked my photograph for your event, people started calling it evidence of Eisenbahn's crime, and now that it's caused trouble, you want me to clean up the mess?

No, no. Nothing of the kind. Everyone in the Steamwhistle Salon recognises the merit of your work. It won first prize fairly, and by unanimous decision.

If anything, perhaps its striking composition drew our attention away from certain details in the frame. That fault would be ours, not yours.

You proved yourself more than capable last time. We all have complete confidence in you.

...What exactly do you need me to do?

I need you to deal with those spreading the rumours. At a time like this, we cannot afford further complications. If this were to reach Stationmaster Eisenbahn... the consequences would be most unfortunate.

To cause Stationmaster Eisenbahn even the slightest displeasure would be unforgivable.

And while you are at it, I would like you to take the measure of public opinion around the station. Find out what people make of this rumour, then report back to me.

The answers you are looking for. I would not send you on an errand without compensation.

You know what I'm looking for?

Naturally... The inner circle of the Steamwhistle Salon was founded by people seeking the very same thing.

Go on, newcomer. I have every faith you will handle this beautifully.

Hey, you're back. What did Seaton want this time?

Does he ever do anything besides dump work on you? The Steamwhistle Salon has dozens of members, so why can't he send them? Are they all just there for show?

Little Minion, don't let him boss you around! Camilla taught me this: when someone tries to make you do something you don't like, you stand up straight and say "no"!

...What was he getting at with that last bit? The staff at the quiz and raffle had that same tone.

It's almost like they think you're already in on something...

What do you mean, "getting at"? He was baiting you, obviously! Hmph. Empty promises, that's all. Be careful, Little Minion. You're about to get OTSD!

...About to get what?

Outsidered! It's when Outsider talks you out of your ice cream with a lot of pretty words, and somehow makes you think you got the better deal. Then Camilla explains it to you later, and boom, you realise you were tricked all along!

Hey, I made it up to you, didn't I? One ice cream for three popsicles. That's a good deal.

Hmph! The ice cream and the three popsicles should all have been mine in the first place! I was still one ice cream short!

Let's start with the passenger area. You get all sorts passing through there, so we'll hear a bit of everything.

Stationmaster Eisenbahn... No. Just Eisenbahn. I really believed in you.

What happened?

You haven't heard? Eisenbahn was smuggling Phoxichor. It's right there in the photo. You don't really think he just happened to be passing by, do you?

I used to dream of joining the Steamwhistle Salon myself. I thought everything Eisenbahn did was for the good of the station. Even when his methods were harsh, I told myself there had to be a reason.

I should've known he was no good when he started stiffing workers on their pay.

And yet... I watched Bloomfield Station grow from a forgotten backwater into the Empire's Lifeline with my own eyes. Eisenbahn... he...

...I just don't understand why the Steamwhistle Salon would use a photograph like that for publicity.

...

I told you all Eisenbahn was a monster. But no one cares until the knife is at their own throat.

What happened?

Didn't you get one of those leaflets? The ones with "Tenth Anniversary Celebration" printed in big letters across the front.

Funny, isn't it? Eisenbahn spent years building that fine reputation of his, and in the end, his own worshippers brought him down. Serves him right.

Every worker hates him! That bastard is rotten to the core!

Eisenbahn denied treatment to sick workers. He took what we earned, and when we needed help, he left us to die!

My daughter... A length of rebar went straight through her arm, right here at the station. The wound festered, and she died in agony.

"Treating her and letting her live would only be a waste of food." That's what they said. To Bloomfield Station, workers were no different from bolts and screws. Once we rusted, they threw us out and replaced us.

But my daughter was a person! A living, breathing person! Vivian... she was named Model Child Worker again and again. She was still so young...

...Yeah. Bloomfield Station was built on the people it ground up. Feed enough flesh and blood into an engine, and it'll take you a long way.

That poor lady... Even I'd be scared climbing up that high. Her daughter must have been terrified...

Let's check the freight yard next. The merchants there might know something else.

A little scandal like this should be easy enough to contain. I'll just need to keep the workers quiet... I should have a word with Eisenbahn.

About what?

Newspapers. Headlines. Prices.

But judging by your attire... Ah, forgive me. How discourteous of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of The Northern Dispatch, along with several other newspapers and courier stations.

The Northern Dispatch may not carry much weight here in Icelake, but in Dismania it is one of the most widely read papers in circulation. Why, even His Imperial Majesty begins his mornings with a copy.

All I intend to do is discuss a small matter with the stationmaster. He is a reasonable man. I imagine he would prefer these stories not find their way to Dismania, and I am sure he can name a price that suits us both.

That's a pretty way to say blackmail. Eisenbahn isn't a pushover, you know. Push him too far, and you might not make it back to the capital.

That would be most unfortunate. But killing me would hardly solve his problem.

As a shrewd businessman, or a perceptive journalist, I know exactly what I am doing. I will ask for just enough to make payment preferable, and not quite enough to make murder worthwhile.

Heh... Well, since you are being so insistent, I will do my best to accommodate your wishes. But I'm afraid convincing everyone else won't be nearly this easy.

This is spreading faster than I expected. Think someone's giving it a push?

Or... maybe this is exactly what the Steamwhistle Salon wanted. Maybe they're steering the rumours themselves.

Let's keep digging. The concourse should give us a better picture.

How could Eisenbahn be this corrupt!?

I'm sure you've all seen it by now! Eisenbahn wears the face of a great stationmaster, but underneath it all, he's just another crook.

He uses his position to cut deals and line his own pockets. He must've made a fortune. And our ironworkers? They can barely afford a decent meal or clothes on their backs.

We kept telling ourselves he had his reasons. That things would turn around eventually. But now we know better. No more excuses!

That's why we must seize this moment! Stand together, raise our voices, and put an end to Eisenbahn's reign as stationmaster!

There you are! Hurry, come with me to the Salon.

Easy. Whatever this is, try using your words before grabbing milady by the wrist. Let go, or I stop being nice.

Ah! Sorry... I was in such a rush, I forgot to explain. It's about the photography contest, or rather, your photograph. There's been a problem with the photo you took, and it's causing quite a stir.

Mr Seaton asked me to bring you in. He'd like to speak with you directly.

I'll be right there.

Alright... I'll let Mr Seaton know.

They're the ones who picked that photo. What problem could they possibly have with it now?

I knew something felt off... Maybe they stirred this up themselves. We'll ask around later, see what shakes loose.

They're not trying to take your prize back, are they!?

The nerve! We are not handing it back. Little Minion, stand your ground! A prize won by my minion belongs to my minion, and no one gets to take it away! I'll protect you!

Ah, you've arrived. I'm afraid I must ask another favour of you. But first, please take a look at this poster.

What's this? A poster...? Let's see.

"Eisenbahn's Crimes Laid Bare! Suspected of Smuggling for Personal Gain! Unfit to Serve as Stationmaster!"

Wait. Isn't that the photo I took?

Indeed. In hindsight, the photograph does lend itself to certain unfortunate interpretations. Phoxichor is military property; any shipment of it would ordinarily be transported under military escort. Without that context, I can see how some people might have drawn the wrong conclusion.

The photograph has set the whole station talking. I would like you to act on behalf of both myself and the Steamwhistle Salon, and help settle these rumours before they spread any further.

The tenth-anniversary celebrations are almost upon us. They should be a joyous occasion for everyone. The Salon merely wished to enliven the festivities and pay tribute to Stationmaster Eisenbahn. We had no intention of causing him embarrassment.

Let me get this straight. You picked my photograph for your event, people started calling it evidence of Eisenbahn's crime, and now that it's caused trouble, you want me to clean up the mess?

No, no. Nothing of the kind. Everyone in the Steamwhistle Salon recognises the merit of your work. It won first prize fairly, and by unanimous decision.

If anything, perhaps its striking composition drew our attention away from certain details in the frame. That fault would be ours, not yours.

You proved yourself more than capable last time. We all have complete confidence in you.

...What exactly do you need me to do?

I need you to deal with those spreading the rumours. At a time like this, we cannot afford further complications. If this were to reach Stationmaster Eisenbahn... the consequences would be most unfortunate.

To cause Stationmaster Eisenbahn even the slightest displeasure would be unforgivable.

And while you are at it, I would like you to take the measure of public opinion around the station. Find out what people make of this rumour, then report back to me.

The answers you are looking for. I would not send you on an errand without compensation.

You know what I'm looking for?

Naturally... The inner circle of the Steamwhistle Salon was founded by people seeking the very same thing.

Go on, newcomer. I have every faith you will handle this beautifully.

Hey, you're back. What did Seaton want this time?

Does he ever do anything besides dump work on you? The Steamwhistle Salon has dozens of members, so why can't he send them? Are they all just there for show?

Little Minion, don't let him boss you around! Camilla taught me this: when someone tries to make you do something you don't like, you stand up straight and say "no"!

...What was he getting at with that last bit? The staff at the quiz and raffle had that same tone.

It's almost like they think you're already in on something...

What do you mean, "getting at"? He was baiting you, obviously! Hmph. Empty promises, that's all. Be careful, Little Minion. You're about to get OTSD!

...About to get what?

Outsidered! It's when Outsider talks you out of your ice cream with a lot of pretty words, and somehow makes you think you got the better deal. Then Camilla explains it to you later, and boom, you realise you were tricked all along!

Hey, I made it up to you, didn't I? One ice cream for three popsicles. That's a good deal.

Hmph! The ice cream and the three popsicles should all have been mine in the first place! I was still one ice cream short!

Let's start with the passenger area. You get all sorts passing through there, so we'll hear a bit of everything.

Stationmaster Eisenbahn... No. Just Eisenbahn. I really believed in you.

What happened?

You haven't heard? Eisenbahn was smuggling Phoxichor. It's right there in the photo. You don't really think he just happened to be passing by, do you?

I used to dream of joining the Steamwhistle Salon myself. I thought everything Eisenbahn did was for the good of the station. Even when his methods were harsh, I told myself there had to be a reason.

I should've known he was no good when he started stiffing workers on their pay.

And yet... I watched Bloomfield Station grow from a forgotten backwater into the Empire's Lifeline with my own eyes. Eisenbahn... he...

...I just don't understand why the Steamwhistle Salon would use a photograph like that for publicity.

...

I told you all Eisenbahn was a monster. But no one cares until the knife is at their own throat.

What happened?

Didn't you get one of those leaflets? The ones with "Tenth Anniversary Celebration" printed in big letters across the front.

Funny, isn't it? Eisenbahn spent years building that fine reputation of his, and in the end, his own worshippers brought him down. Serves him right.

Every worker hates him! That bastard is rotten to the core!

Eisenbahn denied treatment to sick workers. He took what we earned, and when we needed help, he left us to die!

My daughter... A length of rebar went straight through her arm, right here at the station. The wound festered, and she died in agony.

"Treating her and letting her live would only be a waste of food." That's what they said. To Bloomfield Station, workers were no different from bolts and screws. Once we rusted, they threw us out and replaced us.

But my daughter was a person! A living, breathing person! Vivian... she was named Model Child Worker again and again. She was still so young...

...Yeah. Bloomfield Station was built on the people it ground up. Feed enough flesh and blood into an engine, and it'll take you a long way.

That poor lady... Even I'd be scared climbing up that high. Her daughter must have been terrified...

Let's check the freight yard next. The merchants there might know something else.

A little scandal like this should be easy enough to contain. I'll just need to keep the workers quiet... I should have a word with Eisenbahn.

About what?

Newspapers. Headlines. Prices.

But judging by your attire... Ah, forgive me. How discourteous of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of The Northern Dispatch, along with several other newspapers and courier stations.

The Northern Dispatch may not carry much weight here in Icelake, but in Dismania it is one of the most widely read papers in circulation. Why, even His Imperial Majesty begins his mornings with a copy.

All I intend to do is discuss a small matter with the stationmaster. He is a reasonable man. I imagine he would prefer these stories not find their way to Dismania, and I am sure he can name a price that suits us both.

That's a pretty way to say blackmail. Eisenbahn isn't a pushover, you know. Push him too far, and you might not make it back to the capital.

That would be most unfortunate. But killing me would hardly solve his problem.

As a shrewd businessman, or a perceptive journalist, I know exactly what I am doing. I will ask for just enough to make payment preferable, and not quite enough to make murder worthwhile.

Heh... Well, since you are being so insistent, I will do my best to accommodate your wishes. But I'm afraid convincing everyone else won't be nearly this easy.

This is spreading faster than I expected. Think someone's giving it a push?

Or... maybe this is exactly what the Steamwhistle Salon wanted. Maybe they're steering the rumours themselves.

Let's keep digging. The concourse should give us a better picture.

How could Eisenbahn be this corrupt!?

I'm sure you've all seen it by now! Eisenbahn wears the face of a great stationmaster, but underneath it all, he's just another crook.

He uses his position to cut deals and line his own pockets. He must've made a fortune. And our ironworkers? They can barely afford a decent meal or clothes on their backs.

We kept telling ourselves he had his reasons. That things would turn around eventually. But now we know better. No more excuses!

That's why we must seize this moment! Stand together, raise our voices, and put an end to Eisenbahn's reign as stationmaster!

There you are! Hurry, come with me to the Salon.

Easy. Whatever this is, try using your words before grabbing milady by the wrist. Let go, or I stop being nice.

Ah! Sorry... I was in such a rush, I forgot to explain. It's about the photography contest, or rather, your photograph. There's been a problem with the photo you took, and it's causing quite a stir.

Mr Seaton asked me to bring you in. He'd like to speak with you directly.

I'll be right there.

Alright... I'll let Mr Seaton know.

They're the ones who picked that photo. What problem could they possibly have with it now?

I knew something felt off... Maybe they stirred this up themselves. We'll ask around later, see what shakes loose.

They're not trying to take your prize back, are they!?

The nerve! We are not handing it back. Little Minion, stand your ground! A prize won by my minion belongs to my minion, and no one gets to take it away! I'll protect you!

Ah, you've arrived. I'm afraid I must ask another favour of you. But first, please take a look at this poster.

What's this? A poster...? Let's see.

"Eisenbahn's Crimes Laid Bare! Suspected of Smuggling for Personal Gain! Unfit to Serve as Stationmaster!"

Wait. Isn't that the photo I took?

Indeed. In hindsight, the photograph does lend itself to certain unfortunate interpretations. Phoxichor is military property; any shipment of it would ordinarily be transported under military escort. Without that context, I can see how some people might have drawn the wrong conclusion.

The photograph has set the whole station talking. I would like you to act on behalf of both myself and the Steamwhistle Salon, and help settle these rumours before they spread any further.

The tenth-anniversary celebrations are almost upon us. They should be a joyous occasion for everyone. The Salon merely wished to enliven the festivities and pay tribute to Stationmaster Eisenbahn. We had no intention of causing him embarrassment.

Let me get this straight. You picked my photograph for your event, people started calling it evidence of Eisenbahn's crime, and now that it's caused trouble, you want me to clean up the mess?

No, no. Nothing of the kind. Everyone in the Steamwhistle Salon recognises the merit of your work. It won first prize fairly, and by unanimous decision.

If anything, perhaps its striking composition drew our attention away from certain details in the frame. That fault would be ours, not yours.

You proved yourself more than capable last time. We all have complete confidence in you.

...What exactly do you need me to do?

I need you to deal with those spreading the rumours. At a time like this, we cannot afford further complications. If this were to reach Stationmaster Eisenbahn... the consequences would be most unfortunate.

To cause Stationmaster Eisenbahn even the slightest displeasure would be unforgivable.

And while you are at it, I would like you to take the measure of public opinion around the station. Find out what people make of this rumour, then report back to me.

The answers you are looking for. I would not send you on an errand without compensation.

You know what I'm looking for?

Naturally... The inner circle of the Steamwhistle Salon was founded by people seeking the very same thing.

Go on, newcomer. I have every faith you will handle this beautifully.

Hey, you're back. What did Seaton want this time?

Does he ever do anything besides dump work on you? The Steamwhistle Salon has dozens of members, so why can't he send them? Are they all just there for show?

Little Minion, don't let him boss you around! Camilla taught me this: when someone tries to make you do something you don't like, you stand up straight and say "no"!

...What was he getting at with that last bit? The staff at the quiz and raffle had that same tone.

It's almost like they think you're already in on something...

What do you mean, "getting at"? He was baiting you, obviously! Hmph. Empty promises, that's all. Be careful, Little Minion. You're about to get OTSD!

...About to get what?

Outsidered! It's when Outsider talks you out of your ice cream with a lot of pretty words, and somehow makes you think you got the better deal. Then Camilla explains it to you later, and boom, you realise you were tricked all along!

Hey, I made it up to you, didn't I? One ice cream for three popsicles. That's a good deal.

Hmph! The ice cream and the three popsicles should all have been mine in the first place! I was still one ice cream short!

Let's start with the passenger area. You get all sorts passing through there, so we'll hear a bit of everything.

Stationmaster Eisenbahn... No. Just Eisenbahn. I really believed in you.

What happened?

You haven't heard? Eisenbahn was smuggling Phoxichor. It's right there in the photo. You don't really think he just happened to be passing by, do you?

I used to dream of joining the Steamwhistle Salon myself. I thought everything Eisenbahn did was for the good of the station. Even when his methods were harsh, I told myself there had to be a reason.

I should've known he was no good when he started stiffing workers on their pay.

And yet... I watched Bloomfield Station grow from a forgotten backwater into the Empire's Lifeline with my own eyes. Eisenbahn... he...

...I just don't understand why the Steamwhistle Salon would use a photograph like that for publicity.

...

I told you all Eisenbahn was a monster. But no one cares until the knife is at their own throat.

What happened?

Didn't you get one of those leaflets? The ones with "Tenth Anniversary Celebration" printed in big letters across the front.

Funny, isn't it? Eisenbahn spent years building that fine reputation of his, and in the end, his own worshippers brought him down. Serves him right.

Every worker hates him! That bastard is rotten to the core!

Eisenbahn denied treatment to sick workers. He took what we earned, and when we needed help, he left us to die!

My daughter... A length of rebar went straight through her arm, right here at the station. The wound festered, and she died in agony.

"Treating her and letting her live would only be a waste of food." That's what they said. To Bloomfield Station, workers were no different from bolts and screws. Once we rusted, they threw us out and replaced us.

But my daughter was a person! A living, breathing person! Vivian... she was named Model Child Worker again and again. She was still so young...

...Yeah. Bloomfield Station was built on the people it ground up. Feed enough flesh and blood into an engine, and it'll take you a long way.

That poor lady... Even I'd be scared climbing up that high. Her daughter must have been terrified...

Let's check the freight yard next. The merchants there might know something else.

A little scandal like this should be easy enough to contain. I'll just need to keep the workers quiet... I should have a word with Eisenbahn.

About what?

Newspapers. Headlines. Prices.

But judging by your attire... Ah, forgive me. How discourteous of me. Allow me to introduce myself. I am the proprietor of The Northern Dispatch, along with several other newspapers and courier stations.

The Northern Dispatch may not carry much weight here in Icelake, but in Dismania it is one of the most widely read papers in circulation. Why, even His Imperial Majesty begins his mornings with a copy.

All I intend to do is discuss a small matter with the stationmaster. He is a reasonable man. I imagine he would prefer these stories not find their way to Dismania, and I am sure he can name a price that suits us both.

That's a pretty way to say blackmail. Eisenbahn isn't a pushover, you know. Push him too far, and you might not make it back to the capital.

That would be most unfortunate. But killing me would hardly solve his problem.

As a shrewd businessman, or a perceptive journalist, I know exactly what I am doing. I will ask for just enough to make payment preferable, and not quite enough to make murder worthwhile.

Heh... Well, since you are being so insistent, I will do my best to accommodate your wishes. But I'm afraid convincing everyone else won't be nearly this easy.

This is spreading faster than I expected. Think someone's giving it a push?

Or... maybe this is exactly what the Steamwhistle Salon wanted. Maybe they're steering the rumours themselves.

Let's keep digging. The concourse should give us a better picture.

How could Eisenbahn be this corrupt!?

I'm sure you've all seen it by now! Eisenbahn wears the face of a great stationmaster, but underneath it all, he's just another crook.

He uses his position to cut deals and line his own pockets. He must've made a fortune. And our ironworkers? They can barely afford a decent meal or clothes on their backs.

We kept telling ourselves he had his reasons. That things would turn around eventually. But now we know better. No more excuses!

That's why we must seize this moment! Stand together, raise our voices, and put an end to Eisenbahn's reign as stationmaster!

Of course, a movement like ours needs resources. I've pledged every last coin I own to bringing him down. If you feel as I do, even a small contribution would help the cause.

And once we succeed, I'll personally recommend every loyal supporter for posts as conductors, heads of station security, whatever you deserve!

(He's using the chaos caused by the rumour to scam people... I need to stop him.)

Whatever Eisenbahn may have done, standing here making empty promises and taking donations looks more like profiteering than justice.

Oh, and now you're playing hero?

What happened to you? What do you actually want? You don't have to resort to something this extreme. Let's see what we can do for you.

I... I just care about people, alright? I can't stand the way Eisenbahn treats people. Everyone knows he's rotten anyway.

Extreme? Don't tell me you're defending him! Come on, then, I'll knock some sense into you!

Whoa! What are you doing!? I, I'll have you know that... the more you try to silence us, the louder we'll shout! We will not bow before oppression!

Alright, alright! Stop! I was wrong! Please stop hitting me! No more scams, I swear!

Then why pretend this was about justice? Why use rumours about Stationmaster Eisenbahn to scam people?

Tch. When the wind changes, you turn with it. Simple as that. Three days ago, I was one of Eisenbahn's loudest supporters. Gave speeches at the Steamwhistle Salon, sang his praises, and let his admirers fill the collection box.

I just tell people what they want to hear. That's all. I'm a public speaker making an honest living from donations. It's not really a scam...

Hmm? Say that again.

Sorry... You're right. I'm a filthy scammer.

What do you actually know? Why are you saying Eisenbahn was smuggling?

Because everyone's saying it. I don't know the details. Some say he was smuggling Phoxichor, some say Geniemons. Everyone's got their own version.

And who told you all this?

Uh... Some disappointed-looking bloke. A merchant. Oh, and this madwoman who kept saying Eisenbahn should pay with his life.

I warned them not to spread those rumours. If polite requests aren't enough, Mr Seaton won't hesitate to use harsher methods to defend Stationmaster Eisenbahn's reputation.

Hah. If warnings worked, the world would've been at peace ages ago. You've got to stir people up. Get their blood hot. Like I do. Though it's already too late now.

Honestly? I didn't even believe the rumour at first. But after you showed up... now I'm convinced.

You came because you're worried. Because you're scared. Otherwise, why bother? Rumours die down on their own eventually.

And I doubt I'm the only one who sees it that way. Save your breath, Bloomfield Station isn't that big. News travels fast around here. By now, everyone at the station probably knows.

(I don't work here. I didn't realise news could travel through the station this quickly... But Seaton is chairman of the Steamwhistle Salon, which is based right here in the station. Could he really have missed something this obvious?)

Button Mushroom probably got startled by what Seaton said. I heard it too. He said...

"To a soldier, his weapon is life itself. It is proof of my loyalty to the stationmaster."

"In return, please reward me... with your heart."

(...What if Seaton never meant to stop the rumour? What if he actually wanted everyone to hear it?)

...Sometimes the fastest way to spread a rumour is to tell people not to talk about it.

Exactly! That's what I've been saying. So don't beat yourself up. Sure, my little crusade was a sham... but what if Eisenbahn really is as bad as people say?

You're a good talker, you know. Got the makings of a real orator. Why not learn a few tricks from me? Sign on as my apprentice today, and I'll even waive the tuition fee.

You're not an orator. You're a fraud. Give it up, Vita's not falling for it. And what did you mean by "it's already too late now"?

Same trade, are we? Always out to spoil another man's act... Anyway, it's too late because someone made posters from that photograph, and they're all over the station now. Haven't you seen them?

At this point, nobody's going to listen unless Eisenbahn comes out and explains himself. And even then, people will trust their own eyes over his words. I don't know who you people are, but if I were you, I'd give up.

Little Minion, why did you let that con man go? Shouldn't we have dragged him back to Seaton?

If everyone thinks like that man, doesn't that mean loads of people already believe Eisenbahn did something terrible?

That's the complete opposite of what Seaton wants, right? Didn't he want people supporting Eisenbahn?

Hmm... Seaton sent us out to clean up the mess caused by the photo. Somehow, all we did was make it worse.

...Or perhaps that's exactly what he wanted.

Think about it. Sure, we took the photograph. But the commission came from the Steamwhistle Salon, and they were the ones who picked it as the winner.

Then, the moment it caused trouble, they sent us out to "contain" it. No matter how you look at it, something doesn't add up.

And that con man was right about one thing: the harder we tried to stop people talking, the further the story spread.

So you think Seaton planned all this? That the Steamwhistle Salon wanted to turn the station against Eisenbahn?

...You might be right. From what he said after I told him about the rehearsal... he certainly doesn't seem fond of Eisenbahn. He may even be working against him.

Exactly. Maybe we've been part of the plan from the beginning.

Welcome back, newcomer. Please, sit. Have some tea. We can speak at our leisure. Now then... how did it go?

I see you took a rather gentle approach. Did it not occur to you to be more forceful? To make quite certain they never spoke of it again?

Heh. Do relax. I was only joking.

Because I had prepared for every possibility. Whatever news you brought back, I was ready to hear it.

Is that so?

Of course. I would never be harsh with a new member, especially not one who has done such excellent work.

I think this was all part of your plan from the beginning.

What do you mean? The Steamwhistle Salon exists to uphold Stationmaster Eisenbahn's honour. Everything we do is for a better Bloomfield Station. A better Eisenbahn...

Assuming he truly deserves that devotion, of course.

Assuming he truly is a leader worth following. Alas, if only we could see what truly lies in a man's heart.

You are disappointed too, aren't you, newcomer? You took that remarkable photograph because you admired him. Because you believed in him.

You're the chairman of the Steamwhistle Salon. Half the station noticed something was wrong with that photograph. There's no way you didn't.

And with all the Salon's members, someone must have seen the problem. Someone must have realised that photo could damage Eisenbahn's reputation. Unless...

Unless that was the point. You didn't choose my photograph for its artistry. You chose it because I happened to capture the evidence you needed.

...You rushed posters bearing that photograph into print. Then you pushed it through every lead-up event you had planned, so it would spread across the station. After that, you let the rumours do the rest. With the photograph to back them up, they spread almost by themselves.

...

Sharp.

You sent me after those people to make the rumours look real. Almost no one knows me here. If I go around telling people to keep quiet, it only makes me look like Eisenbahn's errand-runner, trying to bury the story.

And what do you believe we stand to gain from all this?

What you want is...

The Steamwhistle Salon... his own fan club, and you wanted him ruined.

Quite right. You are remarkably perceptive.

This is the twisted desperation of unrequited love! He shines like the morning sun, but never for you alone, and you've never forgiven him for it! You're destroying him just to make him acknowledge your feelings...

...Wh, What?

Milady has a unique sense of humour. What she means is, you're trying to ruin Eisenbahn.

...Indeed.

So this was planned from the beginning... How long have you been working on it?

Two years? Three, perhaps. I don't really remember. One only needs to remember what matters, wouldn't you agree? The Steamwhistle Salon was nothing more than a façade from the very beginning. Why would I bother remembering the date it was founded?

Eisenbahn never deserved any of this. I was the one who should have been assigned to run Bloomfield Station.

He stole my station. He bled the workers dry and built his success on their suffering. Tragic, really. Had I been in charge, I would never have treated them so poorly.

Look at this photograph, newcomer. Evidence captured by your own hand. The proof that will tear that righteous mask from his face. Here, Phoxichor, a merchant, and Eisenbahn himself.

...

He has always been cruel. Ruthless. A devil wearing a human face.

Delayed wages. Sick and wounded workers left to die. Protection money wrung from local merchants. One crime after another. This station's prosperity was bought with blood and tears.

Look at this photograph, newcomer. Evidence captured by your own hand. The proof that will tear that righteous mask from his face. Here, Phoxichor, a merchant, and Eisenbahn himself.

Most of the Salon saw only what they wanted to see. Toran included. But you, you saw what mattered. You were sharp enough to notice, and decisive enough to act.

It has been a pleasure working with you, newcomer. No... my friend.

Everything is already in place. Soon, you will see Bloomfield Station reborn by our hand. The wealth Eisenbahn amassed through corruption and cruelty will finally be returned to the people who earned it.

Returned to the workers...? I hope you keep your word. Good luck.

Thank you, my friend. To a brighter future.

Of course, a movement like ours needs resources. I've pledged every last coin I own to bringing him down. If you feel as I do, even a small contribution would help the cause.

And once we succeed, I'll personally recommend every loyal supporter for posts as conductors, heads of station security, whatever you deserve!

(He's using the chaos caused by the rumour to scam people... I need to stop him.)

Whatever Eisenbahn may have done, standing here making empty promises and taking donations looks more like profiteering than justice.

Oh, and now you're playing hero?

What happened to you? What do you actually want? You don't have to resort to something this extreme. Let's see what we can do for you.

I... I just care about people, alright? I can't stand the way Eisenbahn treats people. Everyone knows he's rotten anyway.

Extreme? Don't tell me you're defending him! Come on, then, I'll knock some sense into you!

Whoa! What are you doing!? I, I'll have you know that... the more you try to silence us, the louder we'll shout! We will not bow before oppression!

Alright, alright! Stop! I was wrong! Please stop hitting me! No more scams, I swear!

Then why pretend this was about justice? Why use rumours about Stationmaster Eisenbahn to scam people?

Tch. When the wind changes, you turn with it. Simple as that. Three days ago, I was one of Eisenbahn's loudest supporters. Gave speeches at the Steamwhistle Salon, sang his praises, and let his admirers fill the collection box.

I just tell people what they want to hear. That's all. I'm a public speaker making an honest living from donations. It's not really a scam...

Hmm? Say that again.

Sorry... You're right. I'm a filthy scammer.

What do you actually know? Why are you saying Eisenbahn was smuggling?

Because everyone's saying it. I don't know the details. Some say he was smuggling Phoxichor, some say Geniemons. Everyone's got their own version.

And who told you all this?

Uh... Some disappointed-looking bloke. A merchant. Oh, and this madwoman who kept saying Eisenbahn should pay with his life.

I warned them not to spread those rumours. If polite requests aren't enough, Mr Seaton won't hesitate to use harsher methods to defend Stationmaster Eisenbahn's reputation.

Hah. If warnings worked, the world would've been at peace ages ago. You've got to stir people up. Get their blood hot. Like I do. Though it's already too late now.

Honestly? I didn't even believe the rumour at first. But after you showed up... now I'm convinced.

You came because you're worried. Because you're scared. Otherwise, why bother? Rumours die down on their own eventually.

And I doubt I'm the only one who sees it that way. Save your breath, Bloomfield Station isn't that big. News travels fast around here. By now, everyone at the station probably knows.

(I don't work here. I didn't realise news could travel through the station this quickly... But Seaton is chairman of the Steamwhistle Salon, which is based right here in the station. Could he really have missed something this obvious?)

Button Mushroom probably got startled by what Seaton said. I heard it too. He said...

"To a soldier, his weapon is life itself. It is proof of my loyalty to the stationmaster."

"In return, please reward me... with your heart."

(...What if Seaton never meant to stop the rumour? What if he actually wanted everyone to hear it?)

...Sometimes the fastest way to spread a rumour is to tell people not to talk about it.

Exactly! That's what I've been saying. So don't beat yourself up. Sure, my little crusade was a sham... but what if Eisenbahn really is as bad as people say?

You're a good talker, you know. Got the makings of a real orator. Why not learn a few tricks from me? Sign on as my apprentice today, and I'll even waive the tuition fee.

You're not an orator. You're a fraud. Give it up, Vita's not falling for it. And what did you mean by "it's already too late now"?

Same trade, are we? Always out to spoil another man's act... Anyway, it's too late because someone made posters from that photograph, and they're all over the station now. Haven't you seen them?

At this point, nobody's going to listen unless Eisenbahn comes out and explains himself. And even then, people will trust their own eyes over his words. I don't know who you people are, but if I were you, I'd give up.

Little Minion, why did you let that con man go? Shouldn't we have dragged him back to Seaton?

If everyone thinks like that man, doesn't that mean loads of people already believe Eisenbahn did something terrible?

That's the complete opposite of what Seaton wants, right? Didn't he want people supporting Eisenbahn?

Hmm... Seaton sent us out to clean up the mess caused by the photo. Somehow, all we did was make it worse.

...Or perhaps that's exactly what he wanted.

Think about it. Sure, we took the photograph. But the commission came from the Steamwhistle Salon, and they were the ones who picked it as the winner.

Then, the moment it caused trouble, they sent us out to "contain" it. No matter how you look at it, something doesn't add up.

And that con man was right about one thing: the harder we tried to stop people talking, the further the story spread.

So you think Seaton planned all this? That the Steamwhistle Salon wanted to turn the station against Eisenbahn?

...You might be right. From what he said after I told him about the rehearsal... he certainly doesn't seem fond of Eisenbahn. He may even be working against him.

Exactly. Maybe we've been part of the plan from the beginning.

Welcome back, newcomer. Please, sit. Have some tea. We can speak at our leisure. Now then... how did it go?

I see you took a rather gentle approach. Did it not occur to you to be more forceful? To make quite certain they never spoke of it again?

Heh. Do relax. I was only joking.

Because I had prepared for every possibility. Whatever news you brought back, I was ready to hear it.

Is that so?

Of course. I would never be harsh with a new member, especially not one who has done such excellent work.

I think this was all part of your plan from the beginning.

What do you mean? The Steamwhistle Salon exists to uphold Stationmaster Eisenbahn's honour. Everything we do is for a better Bloomfield Station. A better Eisenbahn...

Assuming he truly deserves that devotion, of course.

Assuming he truly is a leader worth following. Alas, if only we could see what truly lies in a man's heart.

You are disappointed too, aren't you, newcomer? You took that remarkable photograph because you admired him. Because you believed in him.

You're the chairman of the Steamwhistle Salon. Half the station noticed something was wrong with that photograph. There's no way you didn't.

And with all the Salon's members, someone must have seen the problem. Someone must have realised that photo could damage Eisenbahn's reputation. Unless...

Unless that was the point. You didn't choose my photograph for its artistry. You chose it because I happened to capture the evidence you needed.

...You rushed posters bearing that photograph into print. Then you pushed it through every lead-up event you had planned, so it would spread across the station. After that, you let the rumours do the rest. With the photograph to back them up, they spread almost by themselves.

...

Sharp.

You sent me after those people to make the rumours look real. Almost no one knows me here. If I go around telling people to keep quiet, it only makes me look like Eisenbahn's errand-runner, trying to bury the story.

And what do you believe we stand to gain from all this?

What you want is...

The Steamwhistle Salon... his own fan club, and you wanted him ruined.

Quite right. You are remarkably perceptive.

This is the twisted desperation of unrequited love! He shines like the morning sun, but never for you alone, and you've never forgiven him for it! You're destroying him just to make him acknowledge your feelings...

...Wh, What?

Milady has a unique sense of humour. What she means is, you're trying to ruin Eisenbahn.

...Indeed.

So this was planned from the beginning... How long have you been working on it?

Two years? Three, perhaps. I don't really remember. One only needs to remember what matters, wouldn't you agree? The Steamwhistle Salon was nothing more than a façade from the very beginning. Why would I bother remembering the date it was founded?

Eisenbahn never deserved any of this. I was the one who should have been assigned to run Bloomfield Station.

He stole my station. He bled the workers dry and built his success on their suffering. Tragic, really. Had I been in charge, I would never have treated them so poorly.

Look at this photograph, newcomer. Evidence captured by your own hand. The proof that will tear that righteous mask from his face. Here, Phoxichor, a merchant, and Eisenbahn himself.

...

He has always been cruel. Ruthless. A devil wearing a human face.

Delayed wages. Sick and wounded workers left to die. Protection money wrung from local merchants. One crime after another. This station's prosperity was bought with blood and tears.

Look at this photograph, newcomer. Evidence captured by your own hand. The proof that will tear that righteous mask from his face. Here, Phoxichor, a merchant, and Eisenbahn himself.

Most of the Salon saw only what they wanted to see. Toran included. But you, you saw what mattered. You were sharp enough to notice, and decisive enough to act.

It has been a pleasure working with you, newcomer. No... my friend.

Everything is already in place. Soon, you will see Bloomfield Station reborn by our hand. The wealth Eisenbahn amassed through corruption and cruelty will finally be returned to the people who earned it.

Returned to the workers...? I hope you keep your word. Good luck.

Thank you, my friend. To a brighter future.