Secret World of Occultists-Chapter 14: Customs Warehouse

The East Newport Shipping & Customs House was stationed between the legitimate customs warehouse and naval storage yards in Newport's bustling docks.

It was merely disguised as a customs warehouse storing imported goods from around the world. In truth, however, it was a covert containment and research facility.

The exterior resembled a typical Albion maritime warehouse built of red bricks and reinforced with thick iron beams.

It spanned three above-ground levels, but secretly it also had an expansive underground containment vault.

The carriage drove down the damp cobblestone road, its wheel splashing through the shallow puddles.

Luke stuck his head out of the window, inhaling the scent of salt, tar and imported spices.

He gazed at the sea that seemed to stretch onto twilight, its gray waters reflecting the waning light of the evening sky.

The docks were filled with ships of all sizes, including but not limited to tall-masted clippers and heavy merchant brigs.

He couldn't help but ask, "What are we doing at the dockside?"

As if answering his question, the carriage came to a halt before the customs warehouse.

"This is one of the three containment sites managed by our organization in Newport," Henry explained.

At once, Emily shot him a glance, seemingly telling him to keep quiet.

Seeing that, Henry couldn't help but awkwardly cough, "Mr. Bishop will soon be a part of our organization anyway, so..."

Emily merely rolled her eyes in response. The carriage driver opened the door and she was the first one to step out, followed by Henry, and then finally Luke.

"Please remain vigilant above ground," she said to the driver.

"Yes, Miss Thompson."

Luke gazed at the towering wooden doors, reinforced with iron bands, that served as the warehouse's entrance.

He noticed dockworkers and customs officers going in and out, some hauling crates stamped with foreign insignias, while others inspecting goods under the scrutiny of uniformed officials.

"East Newport Shipping & Customs House," Luke muttered, staring at the markings near the entrance.

Suddenly his eyes narrowed when he saw the Albion customs emblem—a two-headed eagle holding a crossed key and a chain in its talons— beside the markings.

He couldn't help but think in astonishment, Could this secret organization be related to the government?!

The group of three walked to the entrance of the warehouse. Soon, a customs officer, wearing a dark coat and tricorn hat, approached them with a weary gaze.

He held a ledger in one hand and a lantern in the other. "State your business," he said, his tone sharp yet professional.

Emily Thompson, who was leading the group, looked at the man with a faint smile. "We are with the Ministry."

The man stiffened instantly. His gaze flickered between Emily and the two young men behind her. There was a hint of recognition flashing in his eyes, along with a trace of unease.

"...I see," he said, clearing his throat. After a brief hesitation, he gave them a knowing nod and stepped aside, "I suppose you all know the way?"

"Of course," Emily nodded before leading the group inside the warehouse.

As Luke passed by the man, he observed him carefully. Though the customs officer had masked it well, Luke could see the shift in his demeanor.

Respect, caution, and even... apprehension!

He hurriedly caught up to Henry and shot a series of questions in a hushed tone, "Hey, why did that man look so afraid? What is the Ministry? How is it related to the government?"

Henry turned to look at him with a mysterious smile. In the dim light, his expression held an air of secrecy.

"All in due time, Mr. Bishop," he said smoothly. "Have patience... Soon you will understand everything."

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Luke suddenly felt a chill crawl down his spine.

Did I get myself tangled up in something shady? Fuck!

There was no turning back now.

From the inside, the building appeared to be an ordinary customs warehouse with crates, barrels, and workers busy cataloging cargo.

But Luke knew there was more than met the eye.

With great familiarity, Emily led them through the maze-like first floor and arrived behind a false cargo rack. The place was dimly lit and looked very spooky.

The three of them then stepped on an unassuming cargo lift. Emily turned to Henry with a knowing smile, "Henry, would you mind?"

The dim lantern flickered as she spoke. Henry silently nodded before shifting the heavy crates in a specific sequence. Hidden within one of the wooden planks was an iron lever.

"Brace yourselves," he said as he finally pulled the iron lever.

With a low rumble, the cargo lift—which was, in fact, a freight elevator—began its descent!

"Down?!" Luke blurted out in shock.

Seeing his reaction, both Emily and Henry chuckled lightly.

"What we have here is a matter of the utmost secrecy," Emily explained patiently. "Everything above ground is merely a facade. The true workings lie beneath."

After one entire minute, they finally arrived at the underground level. The elevator opened into a small antechamber, serving as a checkpoint with a few guards in navy-blue uniform.

Throughout the entire time, Luke was in a daze. He noticed the guards talking to Emily while glancing at him from time to time. But he was lost in his own thoughts.

Just what kind of top-secret stuff is it that these guys do?!

After passing through the small checkpoint, they entered through the door and arrived at a long corridor. On either side, there were shelves containing iron-bound crates, sealed with wax and covered in strange symbols.

Suddenly, one of the crates near Luke started to intensely rumble. Whatever was inside the crate was thrashing about, trying to get out!

The youth jumped in fright, his back drenched in cold sweat. "What was that?!"

Emily comforted him, holding back a chuckle, "Rest assured, Mr. Bishop. It cannot come out."

"It?!" Luke's eyes threatened to pop out. He stuck close to Henry, vigilantly staring at the dozens of crates on either side as the group slowly walked toward the center of the floor.

In the center, there was a large observation chamber made of brass and glass. There, Luke saw two old men standing, seemingly waiting for him.

One of them turned around and when his gaze landed on the three of them, he enthusiastically greeted, "Ah, there you are!"

The lighting on this floor was provided by gas lamps, so Luke couldn't really tell who these two new people were.

One looked strangely familiar to him, while the other was a towering bald man whom he'd never met before.

"Grandfather, when did you arrive?" Henry asked one of the two men.

"Only a few minutes past," said Edmund with a faint smile.

His gaze then shifted to Luke and his smile deepened. "Aye, you're a sight better now that you're not drenched in blood, lad."

When Luke heard Henry call the man 'grandfather', he immediately knew who he was. "Mr. Edmund Mercer?"

"Indeed, 'tis I," Edmund said with a laugh.

Luke hurriedly walked up to him and offered a handshake. "Sir, I am very grateful for your help that night! Thank you so much!"

Edmund laughed appreciatively. He shook the young man's hand firmly and spoke, "Think nothing of it, lad. A man in need ought to be helped!"

Seeing the interaction between Luke and his grandfather, a smile found its way to the corner of Henry's lips.

After briefly interacting with him, Luke's gaze shifted to the bald old man with the sturdy physique.

The man was dressed like a fine gentleman of Albion society would. He held a cane in one hand and a smoking pipe in the other as he deeply observed Luke.

For some strange reason, being stared at by the old man caused Luke to become highly nervous.

When Emily noticed this, she introduced the old man in a timely manner, "Mr. Bishop, this is the distinguished Director entrusted with the oversight of all sites under the Ministry here in Newport."

Luke was so nervous that he ended up spouting nonsense, "To meet you is a pleasure! Abel is my name!"

He ended up reversing the sentence structure.

"Emily was right about you," said the old man as he walked up to Luke and stood right before him, looking at him with his piercing blue eyes. "Your way of speaking is indeed most peculiar."

"Oh, sir, that is not his usual manner of speaking," Emily said with a light chuckle. "He is simply rather flustered at the moment. And, if I may say so, your presence is rather imposing."

"Is that so?" The old man raised an eyebrow. The next moment, he put away his pipe inside a specialized case before putting it inside his coat pocket.

Then, he extended his hand in a formal handshake.

Luke gazed at the man's broad, bear-like palm, then at his stern face. After a brief pause, he reached out and grasped the offered hand. Though his grip was tinged with slight nervousness.

As he shook the blue-eyed youth's hand with an unwavering grip, the old man introduced himself in a calm and authoritative tone.

"John Kensington, Ministry of Occult Affairs."