"We're here!"
Someone exclaimed lightly, and Leonard Churchill looked out the window.
Surrounding them, an eerie and pitch-black wilderness spread out. The headlights illuminated some low mounds that looked like graves. On these mounds were some desolate trees, their branches covered with mysterious birds that could be crows. A faint mist permeated the air.
Nothing special, this was the eerie solitude one could expect in a deserted wilderness.
Leonard's gaze turned to where the lights converged. An explosion had occurred in front of the railway track, and a steam train with over ten cars was flipped over haphazardly on the ground.
It looked like someone had blown up the railway in front, causing the train to derail and overturn.
Robbing supply trains was not an unusual occurrence in the Sinless City.
Especially when plundering the goods of the upper-class nobles. Although the risks were high, the profits were substantial.
The city's gangs all enjoyed committing such acts.