A breezy March night in 1867 London.
Sounds of typewriting came from inside the room of a young man with its door left open in a house located at the streets of Westminster. It was already late at night, yet the lights were still on and he was sitting there and typing for hours.
He was finishing "The London Adventures and Where to Find the Medicine." A short story about a young man helping his friend's brother to cure a lifelong disease by venturing through London to look for a medicine. As he was looking for the medicine that was so rare, rare as the boy's disease, he encountered a group of dangerous people led by a man with the same disease and the same goal but with selfishness. The young man was able to evade them and found the medicine deep below the River Thames with his smart and cunning ways. In the end, he was able to help the boy and the dangerous man, out of his kindness.
He was known for writing adventure stories. Since his debut, his books have become successful. Lots of readers in London loved them. His pen name 'L.M. Johnson' was well known in the greater area, but his face was yet to be.
"... and the boy finally recovered from the sickness he lived with. He and his brother started accompanying the cunning young man who helped him to his adventures."
Lewis typed the story until the very end. He started working on it just yesterday. He was so focused on writing he barely got any rest, much to his father's worry.
His father Henry came upstairs to check on his son's status. He was not surprised to see the lights on from the room coming from the stairs. He knocked on the door twice as he looked at Lewis working hard on his short story. Lewis heard his father's knocking right after the very last sentence he typed and immediately looked at Henry.
Both had the same stare but different appearances.
While Henry had the appearance of an Englishman, Lewis had one of a man from the Pacific. Medium skin tone and rounded nose tip.
"How long before you finish it, Lewis?" Henry asked.
"It's done, Father. Do you want to see it?"
Henry was intrigued by the work so he went near the desk and took a look at the finished work, including the front page with the title and the pen name.
"Interesting story," he complimented. "An adventure to cure a boy… it's going to inspire the readers."
"I hope so. Thank you, Father."
"What are you thanking me for?"
"For the compliment."
Henry chuckled as he moved away from Lewis's desk. "Since you're done with that, you should go rest now."
Lewis replied, "I know, but the same goes for you, Father. You'll be going to the garage early in the morning after all."
"And you will go as well. You have not had any rest since yesterday! And you have not visited the garage in a while!"
"Father, it was just yesterday when I started this. This is nothing."
"I'm just worried, son."
"Well, you worry too much."
Both just laughed their conversation off. After that, Henry told Lewis for the last time to rest and left the room by closing the door while Lewis cleaned up his desk, turned off the lights, and laid down on his bed to finally rest.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lewis and Henry met the traffic of carriages, as well as of people on the side of the streets, on a spring morning. They were ought to go to the garage of Henry's company known as the Johnson Omnibus Transport Company, or simply Johnson Company. The company was one of the top businesses in London, for the inspection of the horse-drawn omnibuses. London was as busy as ever.
They finally arrived at the destination and the workers greeted Lewis happily since it was last week when he last visited the garage. It was like they were his family too.
Lewis noticed the addition of the omnibuses and asked Henry, "Father, have you been making more buses? Or perhaps having some delivered?"
Full of delight, Henry replied, "Oh, I'm glad you asked. While you were gone, I managed to finish a few buses and carriages, fast as birds. In addition, I was able to order foreign ones from France a few weeks back."
"France?!" Lewis was surprised by the answer. "Don't you think you're overdoing it?"
"In the world of business everything's competition. You must know that. And besides, it won't hurt trying new things. It was my first time having carriages overseas."
"I get what you are saying, but aren't they too expensive?"
A mechanic worker named Owen suddenly came near the two "Good morning, sir! Mornin', Lewis! Been awhile since the last time you visited."
"I was busy, but here I am. How were things here in my absence, Owen?"
"We were busier than usual. We were able to finish building more buses and manage those from France."
While turning his sight to Henry, Lewis made a statement jokingly condoling with Owen, "It must have been really hard getting overworked by Father."
He ended his statement with a smile. Henry was so surprised he immediately looked at Lewis and complained, "Wh-what do you mean overworked by me? Have you gone mad?"
Lewis giggled for a bit and proceeded to look into the newly built buses, inviting Owen along. "Come on, Owen. How about you tell me about the new ones?"
"What a joker," Henry mumbled.
An hour later, Henry remained in the garage to manage the buses as Lewis left to go to the Moss Publishing House. All the way through the publishing house, he would have to walk through the streets.
It was something he was accustomed to.
Since his childhood, he strolled London together with a friend of his. Out of hobby and eventually his means to generate plots for his adventure stories. He observed the city life—its people and transportations—by walking around and sitting around parks, gardens, pubs, and the banks of the river. Basically, everywhere.
Lewis reached the house and he instantly met the founder and owner Benedict Moss at the door. The latter immediately greeted, "Lewis! Come in!"
Happily welcomed inside, Lewis gratefully speaks to the owner, "I appreciate the welcome, Ben."
"Of course! What brings you here, Lewis? Another story?"
"Another short story, yes. I started it just two days ago and finished it last night."
The manuscript of the short story was handed over to Ben and he accepted it. However, he realized he and Lewis were not inside the office. "This is not the right place."
Lewis realized it too, "Oh. Yes, you're right. Shall we go to the office?"
Ben agreed and the two walked upstairs.
Sitting on the edge of the table, Ben finished reading the manuscript and was once again amazed by the work. "Brilliant work, Lewis! We should put this in our weekly magazine!" Not only his house would do the publishing of books but it would also release their own weekly magazine simply called Moss Magazine. Ben thought of it as an innovative move.
"This is going to inspire a lot of people."
Lewis, who was sitting, responded, "Father had the same thought."
"I see your father saw this as well. If I may, leave the manuscript to me. My staff and I will do the rest."
Lewis smiled in excitement and replied, "I appreciate the work you have been putting in, Ben. Thank you."
Hearing the gratefulness, Ben smiled back until he remembered a memory that made his expression look sad for Lewis. The latter asked, "Are you alright?"
"Nothing. It's just... seeing the excitement on your face, I remember the time we first saw each other three years ago. You were not L.M. Johnson back then. You were just an innocent young lad aspiring to have his very first book read by the readers. I thought of not accepting any of your demands at first just because you looked different. And you were young... and hasty as well. So we argued."
"Would you do the same thing to a foreign face?"
"Lewis, you were the first. However, I learned that you don't have to be an Englishman or look like one to have your work published. Just leave me astonished, I will take your work."
Lewis was glad of Ben's answer and both smiled at each other one last time before leaving the publishing house to his friend's place.
Lewis decided to take a shortcut by walking in an alley. As he was walking, he encountered two poor children asking for food. He did not bring any so he asked the children to stay put, ran back out of the alley and went to the nearest bakery. He bought two loaves and hurriedly went back to where the children were. The children stood up from barrels when they saw him with a bag.
Lewis handed the bag and told the children, "Here you go, children. It's yours."
One of them received it and the other peeked the loaves inside. The receiver replied, "Thank you, mister."
"Oi, what you got in there?!" A loud voice came behind Lewis. He quickly turned around and saw three thugs. He then turned his head around in the opposite direction and saw another three of them. The children were terrified but Lewis remained calm with his arms expanded as protection for the children.
Looking at the thugs' coats in red, Lewis recognized them as members of the Untamed, a rising gang whose emergence in London started in autumn.
"Oh, for god's sake."