Chapter 842 - 7 LOTM

After pouring away the coffee and returning to the armory to take the thick stack of historical materials and explanatory transcripts from Old Neil, Klein followed the wall of lights up the staircase to the Blackthorn Security Company.

Tap. Tap. Tap. His footsteps echoed in the sealed and quiet basement.

After Klein left the spiral staircase, he pushed open the door and identified his bearings before heading for the second office opposite of him.

After familiarizing himself for two days, he had a general understanding of the layout of the Blackthorn Security Company.

The entrance brought visitors to a huge reception hall with sofas and tables. Through the partition, there was an inner region. To the left of the corridor were three rooms. From the nearest to the furthest, they were Mrs. Orianna's account room, a rest room with a few sofa beds, and the staircase that led underground.

On the right were three rooms. From the nearest to the furthest was Captain Dunn Smith's office, a civilian staff office with a typewriter, and the entertainment room for formal members of the Nighthawks team.

Klein had previously seen Leonard Mitchell playing cards with two other teammates in the entertainment room. He guessed that they were playing Fighting the Landlord. Of course, Emperor Rochelle had already given it a new name—Fighting Evil. However, the way it was played was identical to what Klein knew.

Bredt was entitled to a day of sleep after a night shift. Rozanne was at the reception desk. The carriage driver who was in charge of procuring necessities and collecting supplies, Cesare Francis, was out as usual. When Klein opened the door to the civilian staff office, the three desks inside were empty. Only the typewriter sat there silently.

"Akerson Company's Model 1346 typewriter..." Klein, who had seen similar objects in his mentor's office and Welch's place, muttered. He felt that the complicated mechanisms inside were filled with the beauty of machinery.

He walked to the desk with the typewriter. After preparing himself, he attempted to type something on air.

In the beginning, he often converted the local language to Chinese 'pinyin' instinctively. Only after he was familiar with it did he 'digest' the original Klein's corresponding memory fragment and no longer made mistakes.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The rhythmic tapping on the typewriter sounded like a melody composed from the heavy marriage of metal and industry. Under this melody, Klein quickly typed the expenditure application.

However, he was in no hurry to meet Dunn Smith. Instead, he focused his mind and read the materials provided by Old Neil seriously. It was both revision and new material.

When it was almost noon, he stretched his neck and put away the documents. He then read and consolidated what he had learned on mysticism in the morning.

Only after all that did he take his application to the office next door and knocked on the door gently.

Dunn was waiting for lunch to be delivered. When he saw Klein hand him the document, the corners of his mouth curved up.

"Did Old Neil teach you this?"

"Yes." Klein did not hesitate to betray Old Neil.

Dunn picked up his dark red fountain pen and signed it.

"I happen to be applying for funding for the months of July, August, and September from the Church and the police department. I'll add yours in. When it's approved, get the money from Mrs. Orianna. You can draw the spirit pendulum in the afternoon."

"Alright," Klein answered simply and vigorously.

His tone and eyes were obviously filled with joy.

Before bidding Dunn farewell, he asked casually, "Shouldn't the budget for July, August, and September be applied for by June?"

Why are you applying for July's budget only in July?

Dunn fell silent for a few seconds before sipping his coffee.

"We encountered three cases in June. I was so busy that I forgot about it."

As expected of Captain and his poor memory... Klein knew he had asked a question he should not have asked. He gave a chuckle before leaving immediately.

With that, he began a simple but regular lifestyle. He would spend half an hour in the early morning Cogitating. He would have two hours of mysticism lessons in the morning and an hour and a half of studying the historical documents. After lunch, he would take a short nap in the break room to regain his energy.

Following that, he would draw bullets and head to the Shooting Club. After finishing his practice, he would stroll over to Welch's place, which was not too far. He would then change routes and return to Iron Cross Street. That way, he could save on the carriage fees. If he had time, he would practice his Spirit Vision and Spirit Dowsing. On the way, he would buy groceries.

...

In a private chemistry laboratory equipped with apparatus and items.

A tall, blond Audrey was looking at the cup in her hand. There were countless bubbles and it made the atmosphere serene.

Finally, the liquid in the cup precipitated into a sticky silver substance.

"Haha, I'm indeed talented in mysticism. I succeeded in one try! I was worried of failure and prepared two sets of materials!" the girl muttered to herself in delight.

She put away the items she took from her family's vault or exchanged them with others. She took a deep breath and prepared to close her eyes to drink down the Spectator potion.

At that moment, barking sounded from outside the laboratory. Audrey frowned instantly.

She hid the cup of silver liquid in a dark corner, turned around and headed to the door.

"Susie, who's here?" Audrey turned the doorknob and asked the golden retriever sitting in front of the door.

Susie wagged her tail in an obsequious manner. Her personal maidservant, Annie, had appeared in the corridor nearby.

Audrey walked out of the laboratory and closed the door. She looked at Annie and said, "Didn't I tell you? Do not disturb me when I'm running chemistry experiments."

A vexed Annie answered, "But there's an invitation from the Duchess, Duchess Della."

"Duke Negan's wife?" Audrey took a few steps forward and asked Annie.

"Yes. She has managed to hire the services of the palace's baker, Madam Vivi, and plans to invite you and Madam to afternoon tea," Annie recounted the invitation.

Audrey tapped her cheeks discreetly and said, "Tell my mother that I have a headache. Perhaps I'm a little dehydrated because of the scorching sun. Please get her to convey my apologies to Madam Della."

As she spoke, she acted frail.

"Miss, it's not only afternoon tea, but a literature salon," added Annie.

"But that won't treat my dizziness. I need rest," rejected Audrey firmly.

Simultaneously, she muttered deep down. If they insist, I'll faint for all of you to see. The etiquette teacher said that I can do it most perfectly... I think I heard something?

"Alright," Annie exhaled and said. "Do you need me to help you back to your room?"

"There's no need. I'll clean up the laboratory first." Audrey was yearning to return immediately to consume the potion.

However, she suppressed her impatience. She only returned to the laboratory's entrance when she saw Annie leave.

Suddenly, she discovered that the golden retriever, Susie, who was waiting outside, was gone. Furthermore, the door to the laboratory was half opened.

"I forgot that Susie can open doors with handles... What was that sound? Not good!" Audrey heard crisp sounds coming from within. Suddenly, she came to a realization as she charged into the laboratory.

All she could see was the cups shattered on the floor. Susie was licking the final drop of silver liquid.

Audrey stood rooted at the entrance like a statue.

Susie immediately sat down and looked at her owner innocently as she wagged her tail.

...

In the seas beyond the Pritz Harbor, there was an island perennially enveloped in storms. An ancient sailboat was docked at its harbor.

A blond man dressed in a robe with lightning patterns was looking at Alger Wilson opposite to him. He asked, perplexed, "Alger, you could have returned to the kingdom and become a captain of a Mandated Punisher team or a reputable bishop. Why did you choose to voyage out into sea and become the captain of the Blue Avenger?"

Alger wore a stoic expression on his rough face. He replied solemnly, "The sea belongs to the Storm. This is the Lord's kingdom. I'm willing to abide by the Lord's will and monitor this area of His kingdom."

"Alright." The blond haired man clenched his fist and struck his chest. "May the Storm be with you." @@novelbin@@

"May the Storm be with you." Alger replied with the same standard salute.

He stood on the deck with a few sailors and watched his companions leave the boat, walking into the distance.

"Sainz, you do not understand because you do not know enough..." Alger muttered silently.

Meanwhile, Audrey finished her second concoction in a panic-stricken state.

Seeing that the silver potion looked nothing different from before, she was nearly moved to tears.

Gulp. She quickly drank down the Spectator potion.

...

Friday. A storm befell Tingen. The heavy rain pounded on the windows of every household.

Inside the Blackthorn Security Company, Klein, Rozanne, and Bredt sat on the sofa in the reception hall and enjoyed lunch.

As there was only a kettle for boiling water, there was no way to heat up leftovers. Klein could not eat rye bread every day or take the carriage home every day. If he did that, he would have to walk from Iron Cross Street to Welch's place in the afternoon and consider taking a carriage back. It was a waste of money; therefore, he began joining Rozanne and his colleagues in eating the so-called 'office rations.'

The nearby Old Wills Restaurant would punctually send a waiter at half past ten every day. He would ask for their orders and after determining the quantity, he would send it over at half past twelve. The food was contained in what resembled meal boxes. At three, he would return to take their orders for dinner and take back the utensils.

The 'rations' included meat, vegetables, and bread. Although the quantity was lacking, it was barely sufficient to fill a person. A cost of a meal ranged from seven to ten pence depending on the different premium levels.

Klein would always thicken his skin and order the meal costing seven pence. Typically, there was half a pound of wheat bread, a tiny piece of meat cooked in different ways, a ladle of thick soup with vegetables, and tiny bits of butter or margarine.

"We actually only have one Nighthawk here today..." Rozanne said as she delivered a spoonful of thick soup into her mouth.

"I heard that a case with cultist elements is going on in Golden Indus. Therefore, the police department has requested for two Nighthawks..." Bredt said as he put down his bread.

Klein used the remaining wheat bread and dabbed it into the last bits of meat juice before stuffing it into his mouth. He did not say a word.

Under his left sleeve, there was a silver chain with a topaz hanging.

At that moment, knocks sounded outside the half-closed main door.

"...Please come in." Rozanne was taken aback as she put down her spoon. She quickly used a handkerchief to wipe her mouth and stood up.

The door was pushed open as a man in a halved top hat came in. The left shoulder of his black formal suit was drenched.

The sides of his hair had grayed. He put away his umbrella and said to Klein and company, "Is this the former small mercenary squad?"

"You can say that," answered Rozanne like clockwork.

The lanky man coughed and said, "I have a mission request."

-x-X-x-

A mission request... You probably came to the wrong place... This security company's signboard is really nothing but a signboard...

Klein immediately held back his urge to lampoon when he heard the visitor. How he yearned for there to be a message board and a screen for him to share his thoughts.

But he soon realized that he had once asked a similar question. The captain's answer was that they could take on jobs if they were free. The money earned could be used as funding for the team's petty cash account and bonuses for the participants.

Rozanne's eyes darted around as she thought for a moment before saying, "Our security personnel are all out on missions. The fastest it will take for them to return is an hour. If your matter isn't urgent, you can consider our services."

Among the six formal Nighthawk members, Captain Dunn Smith had been invited to the cathedral by the bishop for some unknown discussion. Leonard Mitchell was guarding Chanis Gate in his place.

Corpse Collector Frye and Sleepless Royale Reideen had already headed to the Golden Indus Borough to assist the police in the investigation of a robbery case with cultist inklings. Sleepless Kenley White was on leave, while Midnight Poet Seeka Tron had gone to Raphael Cemetery in the north suburb for a daily patrol.

As for the remaining two Beyonders, Old Neil was frail and too advanced in his years. He had not taken any missions in a long time. Klein was still a novice and was truly inadequate in various aspects.

"They are all out..." With one hand holding his umbrella, the lanky man's expression turned gloomy as he took off his hat. He bowed and said, "Sorry for intruding. Goodbye."

He turned around and walked out. He went down the stairs and left 36 Zouteland Street amid the spattering rain and howling winds.

"What a bloody pity." Rozanne watched the man left and sighed regretfully.

Although she would not have gotten any share of the commission, she definitely would have been able to partake in a sumptuous meal.

"There's nothing we can do about it. Chanis Gate needs someone watching it all the time." Klein put down his cutlery in satisfaction. Even though he did not like the soup mixture of turnips and vegetables, he still drank it clean. "Don't tell me you want Bredt to take the mission? Or yourself?"

Rozanne rolled her eyes and giggled.

"Bredt won't do, but you can. Our Mister Seer..."

The moment she finished her sentence, she immediately realized what she had just said. She covered her mouth in shock because the door had not been fully closed. It someone walked past outside or heard anything about Beyonders, it would be considered a leak.

"Thankfully Captain isn't around..." Rozanne looked out the door and secretly stuck her tongue out. "Or I'll have to go for confession again!"

Bredt and Klein laughed out in unison as they exchanged looks before beginning to put away the cutlery.

After everything was done, Klein, who did not bring his umbrella, decided to stay at Blackthorn Security Company due to the ongoing rain.

He took out some newspapers and sat on the soft but bouncy sofa as he leisurely began his 'afternoon break.'

"The airship route from Backlund to Desi Bay is now in service..."

"The complete anthology of the Great Detective Manseng is publishing soon..."

"An advertisement for Lagolas Weapons? A standard model revolver carrying six bullets costs three pounds and ten soli, a double barrel gun costs two pounds..."

...

Klein flipped through the Tingen City Honest Paper when a particular piece of news suddenly caught his attention.

"...the suspect responsible for killing Mr. Welch and Miss Naya has been caught. We believe it is a much-needed reprieve from the horror that has gripped North Borough, Golden Indus Borough, and East Borough... Welch's father, Mr. McGovern, who is a banker, has escorted his youngest son's corpse back to Constant City where a grand burial will be held..."

After reading it a few times, Klein suddenly sighed.

From the looks of it, Welch's father had bought the police's explanations and did not hire a private investigator to investigate the matter...

His grief from losing his youngest son can't be any greater than that of my parents who lost their only son...

In a sullen mood, Klein sat there motionless for a long time. @@novelbin@@

He neither found it odd that he was not invited to Welch's and Naya's burials, nor did he feel depressed.

Once everything calms down, I'll find a chance to offer a bouquet of flowers to their graves... Klein was about to take a nap in the break room when a knock came from the door of the reception hall again.

"Please come in." Rozanne, who was nodding off, suddenly jolted awake.

The half-closed door was pushed open again. The lanky man from before walked in once again.

"Can I wait here? Your mercenaries, no— security personnel should be back soon, right?" He asked sincerely, trying his best to hide his anxious expression.

"Sure. Please have a seat." Rozanne pointed at the sofa nearby.

Klein asked out of curiosity, "Where did you hear about our security company? Who introduced you here?"

He had made two trips despite the heavy afternoon storm while still willing to wait?

Yes. The Nighthawks must have easily resolved missions that might seem very difficult to others. They must have accrued quite a reputation...

The man left his umbrella outside the door and as he walked to the sofa, he replied with a rueful smile, "I have traveled the nearby streets and paid a visit to all the mercenaries, uh—security companies and private investigators. You are my only hope. The others do not have the manpower to take additional missions... To be frank, if not for the waiter that delivers meals, I really did not imagine that there was another security company here."

...It's completely different from what I imagined... Klein was stunned.

Rozanne interjected with a question, "They are very busy? Are there that many missions?"

The man sat down and sighed.

"You are a mercenary team, no—a security company. I believe you must have heard of the armed burglary murder at Howes Street?"

Howes Street... Armed burglary murder... Alright, unfortunately, I'm one of the people involved... Klein nodded with a slightly heavy heart.

"Yes."

"Due to the presence of a ferocious and cruel criminal, the rich men living in the neighboring streets, and even across all of Tingen City, are terrified. Apart from increasing the numbers of their security detail, they have also hired many more security personnel and private detectives. This resulted in a shortage of supply in your line of work," the tall and skinny man explained clearly.

A standard chain-reaction... Klein and Rozanne exchanged looks and saw the self-deprecating smile from each other's faces.

The security industry had entered a golden age. Yet, Blackthorn Security Company was not affected in any way. It was apparent how dismally the company was run.

Of course, to a certain extent, it also proved the success of the Nighthawks in hiding themselves.

After waiting for another twenty plus minutes, Klein prepared to leave since the rain was coming to a stop. He planned on practicing at the Shooting Club.

At that moment, the black-haired and green-eyed Leonard Mitchell walked out of the partition. He looked curiously at the sofa.

"This is?"

"A client. Is Captain back?" Rozanne asked delightfully.

"Back?" The lanky man was taken aback when he heard that.

He had been sitting there, staring at the door. How did he not discover someone's return?

Rozanne's expression immediately froze as she chuckled.

"As a security company, we don't only use the front door."

"Figures." The lanky man nodded in enlightenment.

He was also not surprised by the term 'Captain.' Security companies were mercenary teams or small-scale mercenary guilds. It was normal for 'Captain' to be used.

Leonard did not tuck in his white shirt. His black vest was also casually draped on. He took a glance at the lanky man when he suddenly snapped his fingers and said, "I'm a member of the security personnel at Blackthorn. How might I address you? How may I help you?"

Perhaps it was because he had long heard about the unrestrained characters of mercenaries that he did not feel the anger of being humiliated. Instead, he let out a breath of relief.

He watched Leonard sit down, and organized his words.

"My name is Klee, a butler of Mr. Vickroy, a tobacco merchant. His only son, little Elliott, was kidnapped this morning. We have already informed the police and the matter has been given high priority. However, Mr. Vickroy remains uneasy. He wishes to go through the channels which mercenaries, uh—security personnel have, as well as your understanding of Tingen, to investigate the case from a different angle and ensure that little Elliott is rescued safely."

"If you are able to find where the kidnappers are hiding, Mr. Vickroy will be willing to pay you 100 pounds. If you have the means to successfully save Young Master Elliott, he is willing to pay double. 200 pounds."

Leonard Mitchell smiled leisurely.

"Mr. Vickroy seems to only wish for us to find the kidnappers' hideout? If not, he will not think that his only son is worth a hundred pounds. A tobacco merchant who has close ties with the southern plantations will not just offer two hundred pounds."

"No, Mr. Vickroy is only an ordinary merchant. He's not considered wealthy. Besides, he believes the police will be more professional when it comes to rescuing his son," Klee answered frankly.

"Alright. No problem." Leonard snapped his fingers again.

His green eyes turned their gaze on Rozanne.

"My beautiful lady, please write up a contract."

"Don't always act like a poet. In fact, all you do is recite the works of others." Having forgotten the presence of the client, Rozanne quipped. She was used to exchanging snipes with Leonard.

Of course, the Blackthorn Security Company did not really care about its clients. It was great to have them, but it was also fine not having them.

Rozanne left the reception counter and entered the staff office. Soon, there were sounds of typing coming out from the office.

The corners of Klein's mouth twitched a little. He found them too unprofessional.

There was no standard template for a contract!

This sure is tragic...

And more saddening is the fact that I'm working at such an unprofessional company...

The moment these thoughts arose in him, Rozanne completed a simple contract that had only a few clauses. Then, Klee and Leonard Mitchell signed it.

After Klee stamped it, she took the contract and returned to the accounting room and got Mrs. Orianna to stamp it with the Blackthorn Security Company logo—something that was actually useless. Dunn typically handed it to Orianna for safekeeping. On Sunday, it would be passed to Rozanne and company.

"I'll wait for your good news." After receiving one copy of the contract, Klee stood up and bowed with his hat off.

Leonard did not respond. He seemed to be in deep thought.

He suddenly turned his head toward Klein and revealed a smile.

"I need your help."

"Ah?" Klein was taken aback.

"I mean you and I can finish this mission together." The corners of Leonard's mouth curved up slightly as he explained, "I'm good at combat, shooting, climbing, sensing, and chanting, and taking on some support roles. But that does not include looking for people. You don't expect Old Neil to go out in such weather, right?"

When he said 'sensing,' his voice was lowered to a mumble that Klein could barely hear.

"Alright." Klein did have the urge to attempt his new 'abilities,' while also feeling a little wary toward Leonard Mitchell.

Phew. Let's hope it will be completed successfully... I wonder how useful my Seer abilities will be... He wondered with some anticipation.

-x-X-x-

While looking at Klein, Leonard smiled and nodded.

"Then, do you need anything from them?"

He had cooperated with Old Neil and company numerous times, so he naturally knew that divination required a medium, especially when the person being divined was not present.

Klein thought for a moment before saying to Klee, "I need some of Elliott's recent clothes which have not been washed or starched. It would be better if you have any accessories he used to wear on him."

He tried to choose ordinary mediums, not something that would normally invite questions.

But even so, Klee wore a look of puzzlement. @@novelbin@@

"Why?"

After his question, he added, "I have a picture of Young Master Elliott on me."

Why? Because we are divining his location... Klein was momentarily at a loss for an answer.

If he answered truthfully, ignoring the fact that it violated the confidentiality clause, Klee would likely storm out immediately and rip apart the contract while cursing, "This bunch of cheats! If that works, why don't I find the most famous Spirit Medium in Awwa County!"

By the side, Leonard Mitchell chuckled and said, "Mr. Klee, my partner, um—colleague rears a unique pet. Its sense of smell is sharper than a hound's. That's why we need clothes that little Elliott wore and items he used to wear on him to aid us in finding him. As you know, clues typically bring you to a general region."

"As for the picture, we would need it too. Both of us need to know what little Elliott looks like."

Klee accepted the reason by nodding slowly.

"Will you be waiting here, or will you be going with me to Mr. Vickroy's residence in the city?"

"Let's go together. It saves time," replied Klein simply.

Not only was he eager to try out his abilities as a Beyonder, but he also wanted to save the child.

"Alright, the carriage is downstairs." As Klee spoke, he took out a black-and-white photograph and handed it to Leonard.

It was a picture of Elliott Vickroy alone. He was about ten years old with rather long hair that nearly covered his eyes. There were obvious freckles on his face and he did not seem to stand out.

Leonard glanced at it and handed it to Klein.

Klein took a careful look and placed the photograph into his pocket. Then, he took his cane and put on his hat. He followed the two out of Blackthorn Security Company and boarded the carriage downstairs.

The carriage's interior was rather spacious. It was lined with thick carpet and a tiny table to rest items on.

As Klee was around, Klein and Leonard did not say a word. They quietly took in the experience of traversing the pooling roads in a carriage.

"The carriage driver is quite good." Leonard broke the silence after some time with praise and a smile.

"Yeah." Klein answered perfunctorily.

Klee forced a smile and said, "Your compliments are his honor. We will be there soon..."

As they were afraid of alerting the kidnappers, the carriage did not stop at the Vickroy's residence. Instead, it stopped at the side of a nearby street.

Klee held an umbrella and returned along. After waiting for some time, Leonard talked to Klein again.

"My surmise the last time was not without a goal. I was just trying to tell you that the notebook will definitely appear again. Perhaps, it might be soon."

"That really isn't a happy surmise." Klein used his chin to gesture towards the carriage driver outside, indicating that he did not wish to discuss sensitive topics with outsiders around.

Leonard whistled and turned his head to look out the window. He saw raindrops streak across the glass, leaving behind blurry marks. It made the world outside a complete blur.

After a while, Klee returned with a bag of items. Since he walked in a hurry, the edge of his trousers were soiled and his shirtfront was slightly wet.

"These are the clothes Young Master Elliott wore yesterday. This is the Storm Amulet he used to wear."

Klein took it and glanced at it. He discovered it to be a miniature gentleman's formal suit—a small shirt, vest, bow tie, etc.

And the Storm Amulet was made of bronze. It was carved with symbols representing gales and sea waves, but they did not trigger Klein's perception.

"I'll recount in detail the incidents leading up to Young Master Elliott's kidnapping. Hopefully, it will let you find him easier..." Klee sat down and described the nightmare that happened in the morning, hoping that the helpers he went through great trouble to hire would be of help.

Klein and Leonard held no interest in the specifics. All they cared about was the number of kidnappers, if anything unusual had happened, or if they had any weapons.

"Three," "normal," "armed with firearms..." After obtaining the desired information, they bade Klee farewell and hired a two-wheeled light carriage.

Unlike public carriages, private-hire carriages were either four-wheeled or two-wheeled. They were charged either by time or distance. The latter was at four pence a kilometer in the city and eight pence a kilometer outside. The former cost two soli per hour or part thereof. After the first hour, there were additional charges of six pence every fifteen minutes. In inclement weather or if the customer needed to go faster, the fare could even be higher.

Klein had heard from Azik that in the capital, Backlund, these carriage drivers were famous for quoting outrageous prices.

To him, taking a private carriage was quite a luxury. However, he did not need to worry about this at the moment since Leonard had tossed two one-soli notes to the carriage driver.

"Charge it by the time." After Leonard gave his instructions, he closed the carriage's door.

"Where are you going?" The carriage driver was delighted and puzzled as he held the two notes.

"Wait a moment." Leonard cast his gaze at Klein.

Klein nodded slightly and took out Elliott's clothes. He spread it out on the carriage's floor and then wound the Storm Amulet around his cane's handle.

He held the silver-inlaid black cane and hung it straight over Elliott's clothes.

He gathered the sphere of light in his head as his mind rapidly turned still. His brown eyes quickly turned deeper in color as he entered a half-Cogitation state.

He felt the his body's "spirit" turning light. He vaguely saw the world of spirits everywhere. He silently said, "Elliott's location."

After repeating it seven times, he released his grip of the black cane, but the cane did not fall to the ground. It remained standing in front of him even though the carriage was shaking!

Minute but invisible stirrings happened around Klein and he felt as if pairs of eyes were looking at him.

Over the past few days, Klein had felt this sensation occasionally when he was in the state of Cogitation or Spirit Vision.

With a little fear, he looked at the cane with his deep black eyes. He recited once again in his heart, "Elliott's location."

"Elliott's location."

After he finished saying that, the cane fell and pointed straight ahead.

"Straight." Klein held the cane and said in a deep voice.

His voice sounded a little ethereal as though it could penetrate the unknown world.

This was one of the divination abilities he had grasped. It was called "Dowsing Rod Seeking." The tool of choice had to be wooden, metallic, or a mixture of both.

In ordinary circumstances, he would require two real dowsing rods. Dowsing rods were shaped like two straight metal wires tapered to an edge. He would hold on to the shorter side and turn it to ascertain the correct direction. But as a Seer, Klein realized that through practice, he could search for people directly using this method. He could also use his cane as a replacement for dowsing rods. The direction in which the cane fell was the direction of the item he was seeking.

As for the Antigonus family's notebook, Klein could not remember it at all. Without the slightest impression, there was no way for him to find it.

"Go straight." Leonard instructed the carriage driver loudly. "We will tell you when there's a need to turn."

The carriage driver did not understand why that was necessary, but the notes in his pocket and the willingness of his passengers to hand over the money kept him quiet. He chose to follow the strange instructions.

The carriage proceeded slowly, passing through one street after another.

Midway, Klein used Dowsing Rod Seeking to correct their direction.

After the carriage circled a building once, he finally determined that Elliott was inside. It had only been thirty minutes since they bade Klee farewell.

After sending off the cane, Klein did not continue using Elliott's clothes. Instead, he placed the cane, entwined with the Storm Amulet directly onto the ground.

His eyes turned dark once again as the raindrops around him suddenly spun in place.

The cane fell to the front with a slant. Klein pointed at the staircase and said, "There."

"At times, I really envy Old Neil. Similarly, I envy you now." Upon seeing this scene, Leonard smiled with a sigh.

Klein shot him a glance and replied with a calm tone, "This is nothing difficult. If you are willing to learn, you would definitely be able to master it... Your perceptivity should be very high, right?"

Leonard nodded and chuckled.

"That's not something good."

He quickened his pace and walked into the building amid the ending rain.

Klein was afraid of drenching his formal suit, so he jogged in tow.

The building only had three stories. It was similar to a unit block from Earth. The entrance to each floor was situated along the flight of stairs. There were only two units on per floor. Klein used Dowsing Rod Seeking on both the first and second floors, but the cane remained still while pointing upward.

The two of them quieted their footsteps and arrived at the third floor. Klein once again placed the black cane on the floor.

Whoosh!

A breeze blew across the stairs as his pupils changed colors. The darkness seemed like it could suck the souls of people.

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

Sobs seemed to sound out around them.

Klein relaxed his palm as the cane with the entwined Storm Amulet magically stood erect.

He silently read "Elliott's location" again. He watched his black cane drop silently as it pointed to the right room.

"They should be in there." While Klein picked up his cane, he tapped his glabella twice.

Various colors saturated as he looked at the right room. He saw all sorts of auras inside.

"One, two, three, four... Three kidnappers and one hostage. The numbers match... One of their auras is short. It's likely Elliott... Mr. Klee said that they have two hunting rifles and a revolver..." Klein whispered.

Leonard chuckled.

"Let me recite a poem for them."

"Why be a kidnapper? Why can't you happily be civilized person?"

He put down the bag with Elliott's clothes and took two steps forward. His expression suddenly turned serene and melancholic.

His magnetic and deep voice gradually sounded.

"Oh, the threat of horror, the hope of crimson cries!

"One thing at least is certain—that this Life flies;

"One thing is certain, and the rest is Lies;

"The Flower that once has bloomed forever dies..."

-x-X-x-

Leonard's singing sounded like a lullaby as it lightly resounded through the doors and into the winding wooden stairwell.

Klein's mind immediately turned torpid. He felt like he saw a silent moonlight and serene rippling lake.

His eyelids rapidly turned heavy as if he were about to fall asleep standing.

Amid these indistinct sensations, he also felt a strange, formless, and indifferent focus on his back. It felt like he was wandering the spirit world himself.

A baffling sense of déjà vu suffused as Klein suddenly found his train of thought once again. With his strong spiritual perception and extreme familiarity with Cogitation, he barely escaped the influence of the Midnight Poem.

However, he remained serene and could hardly evoke any emotions.

Soon, Leonard stopped singing as he turned his head with a smile.

"I'm considering asking Captain's permission to apply for a Feynapotter lute. How can there not be an accompaniment when singing?

"Heh heh, I'm just kidding. I can hear them asleep."

The black-haired, green-eyed Nighthawk with his poetic vibe took a stride forward and walked to the door that separated them from the kidnappers and hostage.

He suddenly moved his shoulder and threw a punch at the door's lock.

Crack!

The wooden board around the lock shattered in a muffled manner.

"This requires precise control." Leonard turned his head and smiled. He then reached his hand into the hole and opened the door.

Klein, who had regained consciousness, was not as confident as him. He reached under his armpit, drew his revolver, and turned the cylinder, making sure that he could shoot at a moment's notice.

As the door swung back, he saw a man sleeping on a table with a gun by his feet. Another man was rubbing his eyes in a daze while trying to stand up.

Bam!

Leonard slid forward and struck the awakening kidnapper unconscious.

Klein planned to enter as well when he suddenly sensed something. He turned around abruptly and faced the stairwell.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Footsteps were approaching from below. It became clear that "something" was a hatless man in a brown coat circling the stairwell in his progression toward the third floor while hugging a paper bag of bread.

Suddenly, he stopped. He saw a gun's barrel aiming at him with a metallic luster.

His pupils reflected a young man dressed in a halved top hat, black formal suit with a bow tie of the same color. It also reflected the cane which rested along the rail and the dangerous revolver.

"Do not move. Raise your hands. Three, two, one..." Klein's tone was deep but relaxed.

He held the revolver with both hands as he tried to imagine the man as a target from his practice.

Amid the tense atmosphere, the man in the brown coat threw the bag of bread and slowly raised his hands.

"Sir, is this a kind of a joke? Has there been a misunderstanding?" He stared intently at the finger that Klein had placed on the trigger as he forced a smile.

Klein was temporarily unable to determine if he was an accomplice or a neighbor, but he did not reveal any abnormalities. He said in a deep voice, "Do not attempt to resist. Someone will determine if it's a misunderstanding in a while."

At that moment, Leonard, who had finished handling the kidnappers, walked out and noticed the man in the stairwell. He said leisurely, "So the kidnappers have another accomplice responsible for buying and delivering food?"

Upon hearing this, the man's pupils constricted as he suddenly raised his foot and kicked the bag of bread up in an attempt to block Klein's vision.

Seemingly unaffected, Klein coldly pulled the trigger like his usual training.

Bang!

Blood burst out from the man's left shoulder.

He tumbled to the ground and attempted to escape from the second floor; however, Leonard had already reached his hand towards the handrail before leveraging himself to jump over.

With a dull thud, Leonard landed on the man from above.

The man fainted as Leonard swatted away some of the blood that had splattered on him. He looked up at Klein and chuckled.

"Nice shooting."

I was trying to hit his legs... The corner of Klein's mouth twitched in an indiscernible manner as he caught a whiff of the smell of blood.

He discovered that despite not having any enhancements to his visual, auditory, or tactile senses after consuming the Seer potion, he could still "see" obstructed objects and "hear" faint footsteps, allowing him to take preemptive judgment.

Was this in the scope of spiritual perception? Klein nodded in thought as he watched Leonard find a sharp dagger in the accomplice's possession and "drag" him into the room.

With a gun and cane in each hand, Klein entered the kidnapper's room. They saw Elliott Vickroy jolt awake from the gunshot as he straightened his body and sat up slowly from a huddled position.

Leonard had securely tied up the three kidnappers with the rope they used against Elliott. Bunched together, they were thrown in a corner. The lack of rope was made up by tearing their clothes.

The unconscious man who had been shot in the shoulder was bandaged, but Leonard disdained getting his hands dirty, so he did not help him extract the bullet.

"W-who are you people?" Elliott stammered in pleasant delight when he saw the scene before him.

"Yes, you guessed right. Very precise." The genuflecting Leonard answered casually.

I never expected this bastard to have some humor cells in him... Klein lowered his revolver and said to Elliott, "We are mercenaries hired by your father. You can also call us security personnel."

"Phew, for real? Have I been saved?" Elliott said joyfully without daring to make any movements.

It was apparent that he had suffered quite harshly in the short few hours of being a kidnapping victim. He did not have the kind of rashness someone his age normally would have.

Leonard stood up and said to Klein, "Go downstairs and find some patrolling cops. Get them to inform the tobacco merchant. I do not wish to walk out with a child and four idiots like a kidnapper."

Klein, who was wondering about the aftermath, nodded. He put away his revolver, picked up his cane, and walked to the staircase.

As he went down the stairs, he had a nagging feeling that he had forgotten something. In addition, he heard Leonard say to Elliott, "Don't be nervous. You will soon see your father, mother, and your old butler, Klee. Why don't we play a round of Quint?"

...

Klein held back his laughter and walked out into the streets. With the help of pedestrians, he found two patrolling policemen.

He did not use his badge and identification as a member of the Special Operations Department; instead, he used his identity as a professional security company and recounted the happenings factually.

As for him holding a gun, he was not worried at all. He had received an all-purpose weapon usage certificate the day before yesterday. His application was accelerated by going through internal channels.

The two policemen exchanged looks and one of them left to gather reinforcements and inform the Vickroy family. The other policeman followed Klein to the kidnappers' room.

After waiting for more than forty minutes, Leonard signaled to Klein while the policeman was not paying attention. Klein was to sneak out of the room with him.

"Trust me, heading to the police station is an extreme waste of time. Let's leave first," the Nighthawk with the poetic bearing explained with a relaxed look.

Since Leonard was making it clear that he would take any responsibility for any repercussions, he did not retort and followed in tow.

Almost five minutes later, a few carriages rushed to the building where the kidnappers were. The old butler, Klee, disembarked with his portly master, Vickroy.

Up to this moment in time, he was still in a daze. He found it incredulous that news would come so fast. It felt like a dream.

Suddenly, he heard a crisp snap as he turned around.

A two-wheeled carriage drove past with its windows open. The black-haired and green-eyed Leonard had snapped his fingers again.

After passing by Vickroy's carriage, Leonard closed the window, turned around, and looked at Klein.

He extended his right hand and smiled.

"It was a pleasure working with you!"

I don't think we are on that good terms... Klein politely shook his head.

He did not expect the kidnapping case to be resolved so quickly. All he could do was marvel at the capabilities of Beyonders. Even though he was just a half-assed Sequence 9 Beyonder, he was able to do many inconceivable things.

"This is a celebratory gesture of peace among aristocrats after a clash of swords," explained Leonard with a smile.

"I know." Klein had many aristocratic classmates.

He looked outside the window and said with a frown, "Shouldn't we confirm with Mr. Klee? If he believes that the police rescued Elliott, our commission will be halved."

A total of 100 pounds!

There was no doubt about their providing of the kidnappers' location from their 'meeting' from before.

"Don't mind it. To us, money isn't that important," said Leonard with a shrug.

...It's very important to me!

Klein forced a polite smile and said, "Many poets died early from poverty."

Leonard chuckled.

"I believe Elliott would not lie on this matter. I can tell that he still has some of his innocence left in him. However, you will not get much of the 200 pound commission either."

"How much would I get?" asked Klein immediately. @@novelbin@@

"As the unspoken rule has always been, half of the commission would be handed to Mrs. Orianna as additional funding for the team. The remaining would be split among members. A pity you aren't a formal member; you will only get about ten percent of the remaining half."

10 pounds? That isn't bad either... Klein pretended to feel the pinch as he asked, "Aren't you worried that the kidnappers will realize that they were under the influence of a Beyonder's powers after they wake up?"

"They will not suspect anything. They will only believe that the weather was good and very conducive for sleeping, leading to them dozing off. They will even believe that the song existed only in their dreams. This is something we have verified before," answered Leonard very confidently. "Instead, it's your demon hunting bullets that might arouse suspicion. Of course, you being a queer who enjoys mysticism would be a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"I see." Klein was relieved. He just kept feeling like he had forgotten or overlooked something.

...

After returning to Zouteland Street, Klein did not wait for Klee's arrival. He strolled to Welch's place and took a different route home. On the way, he bought some beef and olives for dinner.

The meal was enjoyable as always, with the same three siblings chatting idly. However, there was an additional visitor.

He was a worker responsible for collecting one penny for the gas meter.

The evening grew dark as the siblings bade each other good night and returned to their rooms.

Klein was sleeping soundly when he was suddenly awoken by something familiar outside. He opened the door in puzzlement and arrived outside the bedroom that no one stayed in.

He pushed open the mottled door and saw a gray desk.

There was a notebook on the table and its cover was made of hard paper. It was completely black in color.

A baffling sense of déjà vu arose in him as he walked over and opened the notebook.

The page he flipped open to was of a picture—a picture of someone dressed in gorgeous clothes and splendid headdress—The Fool!

Beneath The Fool was a line in Hermes.

"Everyone will die, including me."

Horror gripped Klein's heart as he suddenly realized that the corner of The Fool's mouth was curving up!

Ffffffff!

He sat up in shock as he saw crimson moonlight penetrate his curtains. He saw his bookshelf and desk and the silhouette of his own bedroom. He realized that he had had a nightmare.

As a Seer, he knew what dreams typically portend. Therefore, he began to seriously search through his recollections.

Klein froze up when he did because he knew what he had missed out on today!

While he was immersed in Leonard's singing, he had sensed a formless and indifferent focus on his back.

The feeling of being observed felt different from the usual Cogitation or experience he had from using Spirit Vision. It gave him a sense of déjà vu!

According to Captain Dunn, once a feeling of déjà vu arose in him, it probably means...

Klein suddenly sat straight and confirmed the feeling.

Yes, it's that notebook! That Antigonus family's notebook!

-x-X-x-

The Antigonus notebook is in the apartment across the kidnappers'!

Although it was very coincidental, Klein believed that his intuition was correct.

He immediately got out of bed and rapidly changed out of the old clothes he usually wore to bed. He picked up a white shirt beside him and draped it on, quickly buttoning from top to bottom.

One, two, three... He suddenly realized that he was "missing" buttons. The left and right sides did not seem to match.

On careful look, Klein realized that he had made a mistake buttoning the first button, causing the shirt to warp.

He shook his head helplessly before taking a deep breath and slowly breathing out, using some of his Cogitation techniques to restore his calm.

After putting on his white shirt and black trousers, he barely managed to wear his armpit holster steadily. He pulled out the revolver he hid under his soft pillow and holstered it.

Without time to tie a bow tie, he draped his formal suit on and with a hat and cane in each hand, he walked to the door. After putting on his halved top hat, Klein gently twisted the door handle and walked into the corridor.

He carefully closed his bedroom's wooden door and sneaked downstairs like a thief. He used a fountain pen and paper in the living room to leave a note, informing his siblings that he had forgotten to mention that he had to be early for work today.

The moment he was out the door, Klein felt a cool breeze and his entire being calmed down.

The street in front of him was dark and silent without any pedestrians. Only the gas lamps illuminated the streets.

Klein took out his pocket watch from his pocket and snapped it open. It was just six in the morning and the crimson moonlight had not completely faded away. However, there was a hue of sunrise over the horizon.

He was just about to seek out an expensive for-hire carriage when he saw a two-horse, four-wheeled trackless carriage approaching him.

"There are public carriages this early in the morning?" Klein was puzzled as he went forward and waved for it to stop.

"Good morning, Sir." The carriage driver stopped the horses skillfully.

The ticketing officer beside him had his hand to his mouth while yawning.

"To Zouteland Street." Klein scooped out two pennies from his pocket and four halfpence.

"Four pence," the ticketing officer replied without any hesitation.

After paying for the ride, Klein got onto the carriage and found it empty. It exuded a clear loneliness amid the dark night.

"You are the first one," said the carriage driver with a smile.

The two brown horses widened their pace as they proceeded briskly.

"To be honest, I never imagined there to be a public carriage so early in the morning." Klein sat near the carriage driver and made idle chatter to divert his attention and relax his tense mind.

The carriage driver said in a self-deprecating manner, "From six in the morning to nine at night, but all I earn is one pound a week."

"Are there no breaks?" inquired Klein in bafflement.

"We take shifts to rest once a week." The carriage driver's tone turned heavy.

The ticketing officer beside him added, "We are in charge of plying the streets from six to eleven in the morning. Following that, we have lunch and an afternoon break. Near dinnertime, which is six in the evening, we replace our colleagues... Even if we do not need rest, the two horses will need it."

"It wasn't anything like that in the past. There was an accident that should not have happened. Due to fatigue, a carriage driver lost control of his carriage and it toppled. It resulted in us having shifts... Those bloodsuckers would never become this kind so suddenly otherwise!" The carriage driver scoffed.

Under the illumination of dawn, the carriage drove towards Zouteland Street and picked up seven to eight passengers on the way.

After Klein was less tense, he did not converse further. He closed his eyes and recalled the experiences from yesterday, hoping to notice if he had forgotten anything.

By the time the skies were bright when the sun was fully up, the carriage finally arrived at Zouteland Street.

Klein pressed his hat with his left hand and briskly jumped off the carriage.

He quickly stepped into 36 Zouteland Street and arrived outside Blackthorn Security Company after going up the flight of stairs.

The door was still closed and had yet to open.

Klein took out the ring of keys by his waist and found the corresponding brass key and inserted it into the keyhole and twisted it.

He pushed forward as the door slowly opened. He saw the black-haired, green-eyed Leonard Mitchell sniffing at a recently popular cigarette.

"To be honest, I prefer cigars... You seem to be in a rush?" the poet-like Nighthawk asked in a relaxed and cozy manner.

"Where's Captain?" Klein asked instead of answering.

Leonard pointed at the partition.

"He's in the office. As an advanced Sleepless, he only needs two hours of sleep in the day. I believe it's a potion those factory owners or bankers would like the most."

Klein nodded and quickly passed through the partition. He saw that Dunn Smith had opened the door to his office and he was standing at its entrance.

"What's the matter?" Dressed in his black windbreaker, he held a gold-inlaid cane with a solemn and stern expression.

"The feeling of déjà vu came to me. It should be the notebook. The Antigonus family's notebook." Klein tried hard to make his answer clear and logical.

"Where was that?" Dunn Smith's expression did not have any obvious changes.

However, Klein's intuition told him that a clear and invisible stir had happened in him. This was possibly a flash of his spirit or a change in his emotions.

"It's at the place Leonard and I saved the hostage yesterday. Opposite the kidnappers' room. I didn't notice it back then until I had a dream and received a revelation," Klein did not conceal anything.

"From the looks of it, I missed out on making huge contributions." Leonard, who had walked to the partition, chuckled.

Dunn nodded slightly as he instructed with a solemn expression, "Get Kenley to replace Old Neil's watch of the armory. Let Old Neil and Frye come with us."

Leonard stopped acting frivolous as he immediately informed Kenley and Frye who were in the Nighthawks' entertainment room. One of them was a Sleepless and the other was a Corpse Collector.

Five minutes later, the two-wheeled carriage that came under the jurisdiction of the Nighthawks began driving down the sparse streets in the morning.

Leonard wore a feather hat, a shirt and a vest. He stood in as the carriage driver, lashing out a whip from time to time, sending out a crisp crack.

Inside the carriage, Klein and Old Neil sat on one side. Facing them were Dunn Smith and Frye.

The Corpse Collector's skin was so white it looked like it either had not been under the sun in a very long while or he had a severe blood deficiency. He looked to be in his thirties with black hair and blue eyes. He had a high nose bridge and his lips were very thin. He had a cold and dark demeanor and had a faint smell from often touching corpses.

"Repeat the situation again in detail." Dunn adjusted the collar of his black windbreaker.

Klein stroked the hanging topaz in his sleeve as he began from their mission commissioning until the dream. By the side, Old Neil chuckled.

"Your fate seems to be entwined with that Antigonus family's notebook. I never expected you to meet it in such a manner."

That's right. Isn't this too much of a coincidence!? Thankfully, Leonard just mentioned that there was no indication of hidden factions of mysterious powers at play from the preliminary investigations of Elliott's kidnapping. It was solely a crime motivated by money. Otherwise, I would really suspect if someone had deliberately arranged for this to happen... Klein found the situation rather curious.

It was too coincidental!

Dunn did not express his ideas as he was in deep thought. Likewise, Corpse Collector Frye maintained his silence in his black windbreaker.

Only when the carriage stopped at the building mentioned by Klein was the silence broken.

"Let's go up. Klein, you and Old Neil walk behind. Be careful, very careful." Dunn got off the carriage and pulled out a strange revolver with a clearly long and thick barrel. He stuffed it into his right pocket.

"Alright." Klein did not dare take point.

After Leonard found someone to watch the carriage, the five Beyonders walked orderly into the building. With very light footsteps, they arrived at the third floor.

"Is this the place?" Leonard pointed at the apartment opposite the kidnappers.

Klein tapped his glabella twice and activated his Spirit Vision.

In this state, his spiritual perception was enhanced again. He found the door familiar as if he had once entered it before.

"Yes." He nodded in affirmation.

Old Neil also activated his spiritual perception and after observing carefully, he said, "There's no one inside, nor are there any spiritual glows of magic."

Corpse Collector Frye added with his hoarse voice, "There aren't any evil spirits."

He could see many spiritual bodies, including evil spirits and restless wraiths, even without activating his Spirit Vision.

Leonard took a step forward and, like yesterday, punched the door's lock.

This time not only did the surrounding wood shatter, even the door lock flew and fell noisily to the ground. @@novelbin@@

Klein seemed to feel an invisible seal instantly vanish. Immediately following that, he caught a whiff of an intense stench.

"Corpse, a rotting corpse," Frye described coldly.

He did not appear to suffer from nausea.

Dunn reached out his black-gloved right hand and pushed open the door slowly. The first thing that they saw was a chimney. For early July, there was an abnormal heat emanating the room.

In front of the chimney was a rocking chair. Sitting on it was an old woman dressed in black and white. Her head hung low.

Her body was abnormally large. Her skin was blackish-green and swollen. It felt like she would explode from a simple prod, spewing a foul rotting stench from within. As maggots and other parasites squirmed between her flesh, blood, and rotting juices, or clothes and wrinkles, they appeared like points of light in Spirit Vision. They seemed to cling close to an extinguished darkness.

Pa! Pa!

The old woman's eyeballs dropped to the floor and rolled a few times, leaving behind a yellowish-brown streak.

Klein felt disgusted and being unable to tolerate the putrid stench any longer, he bent over and puked.

-x-X-x-

Eugh! Eugh!

Klein squatted there, vomiting involuntarily. He was soon done with his puking since he did not eat breakfast.

At that moment, a tin-colored square flask that looked like a cigarette box appeared in front of him.

The mouth which had lost its stopper emitted a mixture of smells akin to tobacco, disinfectant, and mint leaves. It cleared up Klein's nose and rejuvenated him.

The pungent smell continued to linger, but Klein no longer felt nauseous. He soon stopped vomiting.

He traced the tiny flask up and saw a pale hand that did not seem to belong to a member of the living. He saw the mouth of a black windbreaker's sleeve and saw Corpse Collector Frye with his cold and dark bearing.

"Thank you." Klein recovered completely and with his hands on his knees, he stood back up.

Frye nodded without any expression.

"It'll be fine once you are used to it."

He put back the flask's stopper and put it into his pocket and turned around, walking to the highly decomposed corpse. Without gloves, he began examining the old woman. As for Dunn Smith and Leonard Mitchell, they paced slowly around the room, occasionally touching the table's surface or newspapers.

Old Neil pinched his nose and stood outside the door, grumbling in a muffled voice, "Seriously gross. I'm going to request for additional pay this month!"

Dunn turned his head over and touched the wall beside the chimney with his gloved right hand. While doing so, he asked Klein, "Does this place look familiar?"

Klein held his breath and constructed the silver pocket watch in his mind to calm down.

With him already in his Spirit Vision state, he immediately felt different. A scene that came from the deepest recesses of his memories flashed past his eyes.

Chimney, rocking chair, table, newspapers, the rusty nails on the door, the tin cans inlaid with silver...

The scenes were dark and dull, like a documentary from Earth. However, it was even more blurry and illusory.

The scene quickly stacked against what Klein was seeing. The feelings of déjà vu and having been here before presented themselves clearly. An illusory and ethereal scream seemed to pass through invisible walls:

"Hornacis... Flegrea... Hornacis... Flegrea... Hornacis... Flegrea..."

"It feels a little familiar." Klein answered honestly while his brain felt a stabbing pain. Thankfully, he quickly tapped his glabella twice.

Hornacis... The Hornacis mountain range that appeared in original Klein's diary?

That is content that was deciphered from the Antigonus family's notebook...

The murmurs were very similar to one of the previous ones. It involved the word 'Hornacis' Is this a form of enticement?

Klein was gripped by shock as he did not dare think deeper, afraid that he would place himself on the trajectory of losing control.

Dunn nodded slightly and walked to a cupboard. He suddenly reached out his hand and pulled open its wooden door.

The bread inside was moldy and there were about seven gray, stiff dead rats.

"Leonard, go downstairs to get patrolling cops and explain the situation here," instructed Dunn.

"Alright." Leonard turned and left the apartment.

Following that, Dunn opened the door to two other bedrooms and did a careful search.

After being certain that there were no clues as well as any sign of the Antigonus family's notebook, Frye also stood up. He wiped his hands with a white handkerchief he brought along with him and said, "The time of death was more than five days ago. There are no external injuries nor are there any clear signs that it was a result of Beyonder powers. The exact cause of death will require a postmortem."

"Did you discover anything?" Dunn turned to look at Old Neil and Klein.

The two who were no longer in Spirit Vision state shook their heads in unison.

"Apart from the corpse, everything else is normal. Actually, no, there was an invisible energy sealing the apartment in the beginning. As you know, there will usually be similar processes when we use ritualistic magic," Old Neil thought for a few seconds before adding.

Dunn was just about to say something when he looked outside the door. A few seconds later, Klein and Old Neil sensed something and turned to look at the stairwell.

A few seconds later, faint footsteps grew louder as Leonard walked up with a policeman.

The policeman's expression changed once he caught the noxious smell. He immediately cooperated with his "colleague" from the Special Operations Department and began knocking on the doors of the residents on the second floor to gain an understanding of the situation on the third floor.

Moments later, the corporal with his two silver chevrons looked at the corpse on the rocking chair.

"Katy Stefania Bieber. Between 55 and 60 years old. Widow. Has rented this apartment with her son, Ray Bieber for more than ten years."

"Her husband was formerly a gem artisan. Her son is about thirty years old and is single. He inherited his father's trade and earns about one pound and fifteen soli a week. According to their neighbors, they have not seen them in more than a week."

Before the policeman continued, Klein already knew the critical point that followed.

Missing. To be more precise, it was unknown where Ray Bieber had gone to!

The ancient notebook could very well be on him!

"Do you have a picture of Ray Bieber?" Dunn looked at the police officer. He was acting as the role of a high-ranking inspector.

However, it was not really acting since he was indeed a high-ranking inspector on the police department's roster. His salary and various allowances were also paid according to his rank. Of course, it did not include his salary from the Church.

The police officer shook his head nervously and said, "I'm not sure... I'll have to return to the station to search for it. It's not typical for us to have pictures of every single person."

"Got it. Continue questioning the residents on the first floor. Ask them in detail." Dunn gave the order.

As he watched the police officer leave, he closed the door and turned to Old Neil.

"I'll leave the rest to you. If not, we will have to make all the residents sleep and obtain Ray Bieber's looks. Yea, I don't really trust sketches based on verbal descriptions."

Old Neil nodded. He took out a few thumb-sized bottles from a pocket in his black classic robe and scattered the liquids in a particular order.

Immediately following that, he pulled out a clump of powder and scattered it in a circle around him.

Strangely, a biting smell spread and was not influenced by the nauseating smells in the room. Klein also suddenly noticed that there was an invisible forcefield around him. It separated him from the environment and everyone else. It was like the room in its previous state.

Old Neil half-closed his eyes as his lips mumbled a soft and indiscernible incantation. Without being prepared, Klein vaguely heard the words, "Goddess, give me strength," "We look forward to the protection of the Night..."

Hum! A sudden wind tore through the windows and blew up the powder.

Klein's heart quaked suddenly as he felt goosebumps all over him. He found it difficult to describe. A terrifying "smell" that made him afraid of looking directly spread rapidly.

He was confused as he tensed up, unable to relax. It felt as though he had plunged into a state similar to what one would have after working on a highly advanced mathematical problem.

Suddenly, Old Neil's eyes opened, his eyes pitch-black.

He took out a fountain pen from his pocket and began drawing on a piece of scrap paper on the table. He was so fast that his entire body was trembling.

Klein focused his gaze and saw a face with recessed eyes and a tall nose bridge rapidly appear.

When the natural curly short hair was done, Old Neil wrote a single line beneath the portrait.

"Black hair, deep blue eyes. Left of his mouth is a fully ceramic tooth implant."

Pada! The fountain pen in Old Neil's hand fell onto the paper as his body convulsed a few times.

"This is the image of Ray Bieber according to what's left in the room." Old Neil whispered as the color of his eyes restored rapidly.

Then, he turned back to his original spot and slowly circled it. The invisible forcefield that isolated things immediately dissipated in the form of a breeze.

"Praise the Lady." Old Neil tapped his chest in four spots, forming the shape of the crimson moon.

Klein's taut nerves relaxed as he made more acute observations. He discovered that there was nothing special about Ray Bieber's facial features. He had a relatively mild bearing. The only thing was that his philtrum sagged clearly.

"I'll try using Dowsing Rod Seeking." He picked up the portrait and found male clothes in the bedroom and spread them onto the ground.

Dunn, Leonard, and Old Neil did not stop him as they watched him place the black cane above the clothes and portrait. Frye was as silent as always.

Klein's eyes turned from brown to black as he finished his recitation, only to release his grip.

The black cane stood silently like it was embedded in the ground.

"Ray Bieber's location." Klein silently repeated to himself again.

With the sound of humming wind, the cane fell down but kept changing directions while falling. Finally, it began spinning in slight circles.

Without any external help, the black cane stood stably again.

Klein repeated a few times with the same outcome. All he could do was shake his head at Dunn and Old Neil.

A strange power was interfering with his "divination..."

Dunn took off his black glove and said to Leonard and Klein, "Take Ray Bieber's portrait and inquire the residents for a final confirmation. Following that, we will issue a warrant of arrest against him for the murder of his mother."

"Alright." Klein held his cane and bent down to pick the portrait.

After the neighbors confirmed that the portrait was indeed Ray Bieber, Dunn instructed Leonard and the police officer to finish the procedures at the station. He and Frye headed to a few bars in Tingen City to seek help via other means.

Klein and Old Neil returned to Blackthorn Security Company on a public carriage. It was not even eight by the time they arrived; Rozanne had not even clocked in.

After closing the door, Klein cocked his head at Old Neil and, hoping to learn and answer his questions, asked him, "Why would I send the Antigonus family's notebook to Ray Bieber's home?"

This was completely in a different direction from Iron Cross Street where Welch stayed.

Old Neil walked to the sofa and chuckled.

"Isn't that obvious? Who knows what powers inside the notebook you invoked; maybe you did some described ritual out of curiosity and ended up provoking a strange existence that you should not have. The motive of this existence was to have the notebook sent to Ray Bieber and sever all clues, to prevent anyone from discovering it."

"Therefore, apart from you who were selected, Welch and Naya committed suicide; regarding you... To be frank, I still have no idea how you survived."

"I would like to know too..." Klein sat down as well as he deliberately replied with a wry smile. "I've also thought of the guesses you have of the proceedings. However, there's one thing I don't understand. Why did I have to hand the notebook to Ray Bieber?"

Old Neil shrugged and said, "Perhaps his Life Path Number 1 matches the requirements, or maybe he's one of the last remaining descendants of the Antigonus family. In short, there are too many possibilities... And why the notebook was sold to Tingen City would have similar reasons."

"I do not think it's because he's a descendant." Klein suddenly felt enlightened before he sighed. "Unfortunately, I did not discover immediately that Ray Bieber and that notebook have vanished."

Old Neil laughed.

"This is something that Dunn has to worry about. As for you, it's something good."

"Why do you say so?" Klein frowned in puzzlement.

-x-X-x-

Old Neil rubbed his temples and said, "I believe we have a general idea of why the three of you engaged in a mass suicide. That notebook is also now purportedly in Ray Bieber's hands. Furthermore, the matter has already been exposed. Regardless of whether you are alive or dead, it will hardly influence any subsequent developments. I think—I believe that the surreptitious existence or mysterious power that caused all of this will not pay you any special attention. It's just like how you would not pay attention to the ants on the ground. Heh heh, as long as you do not try to make Him recall you.

"And our arrest warrant for Ray Bieber will quickly reach the Secret Order. They will also be able to guess that it is related to the Antigonus family's notebook. Believe me, for a secret organization that has been in existence for more than a thousand years, it has many channels of information. Therefore, their focus will be diverted to Ray Bieber's whereabouts, in a bid to find the notebook before us. They will not, nor is it possible for them to harass, stalk, or deal with you.

"Lad, congratulations on stepping out from the shadows of the past. What follows will be a brand-new journey filled with sunlight."

Klein nodded when he heard that as he said in a happy and relieved manner, "I hope so."

Having transmigrated here, he had been enveloped in uncertainty. Now, it felt like it had finally dissipated...

However, Klein was still feeling uncertain because the notebook seemed to be tied to him in a certain manner. It went to the point of him bumping into remnant clues coincidentally from a normal mission of rescuing a hostage.

He was afraid that there would come a day when a delivery man would send him a parcel, only to realize that it was that Antigonus family notebook after opening it up!

Let's hope everything will go as Old Neil described... He silently prayed.

When Old Neil heard his reply, he immediately scoffed.

"You don't seem to be a devout believer of the Goddess. At this moment, shouldn't you be drawing the sign of the crimson moon at your chest and say—may Goddess bless us?"

"Mr. Neil, you don't seem like one either. A real devotee would not say 'what follows will be a brand-new journey filled with sunlight.'" Having been studying mysticism under Old Neil, Klein had established a decent friendship with him, so he did not stand on ceremony to return a sarcastic remark.

Both of them locked eyes and chuckled with great rapport. At the same time, they tapped their chests four times.

"Praise the Lady!"

At that moment, they heard the grinding sounds of machinery as the main door to Blackthorn Security Company opened.

The elegant Mrs. Orianna with her fashionably coiled hair stepped into the reception hall with a light-green dress.

"Good morning, Mr. Neil. Good morning, Klein." She held a small leather handbag as she greeted with a smile. "It's another fabulous day today. A pretty good day."

"Good morning, Orianna. You are still as beautiful as ten years ago," replied Old Neil with a chuckle. @@novelbin@@

Orianna's eyes turned to slits as she upturned her face.

"Mr. Neil, the way you praise is still as infuriating as ten years ago."

She enunciated the words 'ten years.'

"Is that so?" Old Neil looked at Klein, confused. He wore a perplexed look.

Never mention anything that will remind the ladies of their age... As a keyboard warrior that knew a little of everything, Klein instantly understood what had peeved Mrs. Orianna. He smiled lightly and said,

"Good morning, Mrs. Orianna. You are as beautiful as always."

"Thank you, our outstanding Khoy University graduate." Orianna smiled with a nod before saying, "That old butler has already paid the mission's commission. According to Captain's rules, half of it will be used as additional funds, while the other half will be split between you and Leonard. But since you aren't a formal member, you can only take ten percent of the half. Come over later to sign for it."

"How much did he pay?" Klein asked happily while also feeling the pinch.

"200 pounds. This was what he said back then—'Lord, the esteemed Storm! I never imagined or believed that this was resolved just like that! This is even harder than us having a dream! Why is your security company so unknown? It's an insult to the entire industry!'" Mrs. Orianna mimicked the old butler's southern accent.

Klein thought seriously for a few seconds before saying humorously, "This is just too unfair for those kidnappers."

Two Beyonders had resolved the problem quickly using methods that could be described as easy and pleasant... This is like an adult bullying a few kids while in full combat attire...

"They were just too unlucky. They must have lost the protection of the divine," said Orianna with a soft laugh. "I told the butler that we were only lucky. One of our informants happened to see the kidnappers bring the child into the hideout. Therefore, do not have too much hopes for us. We really are just a very ordinary security company."

Typically speaking, the more you emphasize something is ordinary, the more extraordinary it is... Klein lampooned with a smile. He watched Mrs. Orianna walk through the partition and enter the accounting room.

Old Neil puckered his lips by the side and said enviously, "You really are a lucky lad. You haven't joined us for long and you've encountered a job worth 200 pounds."

"Is that very rare?" Klein asked in puzzlement.

Prior to this, he was either studying history or mysticism, or wandering aimlessly outside, hoping to find clues with his spiritual perception.

"According to Orianna's accounts, we might not encounter a single job an entire week. And most jobs are worth less than twenty pounds." Old Neil rubbed the moonstone by his wrist and sighed.

Following that, he looked at Klein with anticipation.

"If you encounter any similar jobs in the future, remember to inform me."

Upon hearing Old Neil's words, Klein suddenly felt a strange feeling arise in him. Therefore, he asked directly, "Mr. Neil, you seem to be lacking in money. How much do you get paid a week? If you aren't comfortable telling me, just ignore my question."

Old Neil leaned back into the sofa and chuckled.

"This isn't something that needs hiding. I've been here for so many years. At present, I will obtain salaries from both the Church and the police department every week; a total of twelve pounds."

"A weekly salary of twelve pounds?" Klein blurted out in surprise.

A weekly salary of twelve pounds with fifty-two weeks a year, that meant more than 600 pounds a year!

Back when he read the Tingen Morning Post and Honest Paper, they had mentioned that high-profile lawyers only earned 800 to 1000 pounds a year. And those were the best lawyers!

As for the managers of Benson's trading company, they only earned six pounds a week. That was already quite a decent job.

"Yes, such a salary is actually quite generous, and we do not need to pay any taxes," added Old Neil with a smile.

Klein had heard from Benson that one had to pay E-type taxes when their weekly salaries exceeded one pound. In other words, the government and corporate employees had to pay 3% of taxes if they earned one to two pounds, 5% for two to five pounds, 10% for five to ten pounds, and 15% for ten to twenty pounds, capping at 20% for those above twenty pounds.

Other than that, he also read of four other kinds of taxes on the newspapers. A-type was related to land, housing, and other earnings from material items. It included property and rent. B-type was a tax paid by farmers. C-type was a tax on profits from bonds, funds, and equities. D-type was commercial, finance, or professional income.

"It's something admirable." Klein echoed Old Neil.

"However—" Old Neil shook his head. "Such a salary is insufficient for Beyonders like us who have to frequently study the hidden mysteries, practice and attempt rituals."

"Aren't materials obtainable via application?" asked Klein in puzzlement.

Old Neil scoffed.

"There's a limitation to it. At times, we have to give a sufficient legitimate reason. If you want to learn more and experiment in the field of mysticism, you can only spend your own dime to buy materials. It can be bought internally or at underground markets."

Klein jolted in surprise as he immediately asked, "There are Beyonder materials that are sold in underground markets? I thought the Churches would not permit their existence?"

He was lacking in means to obtain materials!

With him having a mysterious organization in its nascent stages, he could not always have them settled via the Nighthawks, right?

"There's no way to control such matters. Yeah, from the viewpoint of mysticism, all beings are sentient with their spirits and they stem from the same source. The materials we use are not limited to those extraordinary creatures. It also comes from ordinary animals, plants, and minerals. For example, the poison hemlock, gold mint leaves, and night vanilla in the bottle of Seer potion; they are items we can encounter frequently in our daily lives. They might not have any extraordinary characteristics, but they have special characteristics. Through concoction and blending, they will derive certain effects. Therefore, this is not a trade that the Church can ban," explained Old Neil in detail.

Without waiting for Klein to say a word, he continued, "Besides, it's not only the core of extraordinary beings that are of use. For example, the Lavos Squid. Apart from its blood, its eyeballs, skin, and tentacles are pretty good materials. Unless the Church captures it entirely with its own manpower, to completely corner and control any outflows would be a tremendous financial burden. The lower the grade of the extraordinary material, the more it is so. They can only do their best to prevent the more special materials from flowing out."

Old Neil suddenly laughed. "There's another important reason. It's better to know of an underground market than not knowing of it. Under the premise that secret organizations have not been fully eliminated, this is a pretty good strategy. Besides, it can help us obtain materials we are lacking. Of course, with the existence of such markets, contraband items will appear. As long as it's not something ridiculous or overly dangerous, we will turn a blind eye to it. At most, we would use them to enrich our vaults."

"Is it because the few large Churches put each other in place, so no one can take excessive action?" Klein guessed.

Old Neil acknowledged tersely but did not elaborate.

"I'm a Seer. In the future, I'll definitely need to practice and will need more materials. Mr. Neil, can you take me to the underground market to have a look?" Klein requested with a valid reason.

Old Neil appeared to be placed in a difficult position.

"In fact, those guys who are active in those places are mostly not Beyonders. Some of them might be aristocrats that like mystery or rich people who have inclinations towards mysticism... Uh, alright. I have a thirty pound bill that needs paying soon. It wouldn't be convenient for me to head over there for the time being."

"Alright..." Klein never expected the reason to be Old Neil's owing of money.

Moments later, he said with deliberation, "Mr. Neil, do you need me to lend you money? I just earned a commission of ten pounds."

"Haha, there's no need. I'll be able to settle it." Old Neil patted the sofa and slowly stood up. "Sigh, age is truly an enemy that biological creatures can't fight. I'm exhausted from last night's watch. Yeah, revise what I've taught you later this morning. Read more documents. Tomorrow, I'll teach you the foundations of ritualistic magic."

"Alright." Klein got up and bade him farewell by taking off his hat.

When Captain Dunn did not return at noon, Klein pretended that he was still searching for the notebook as he roamed the streets again.

Having earned ten pounds, he no longer needed to wait for the next disbursement of the funds. He could head directly to the Divination Club!

Cogitation and Spirit Vision have been occasionally producing murmurings and illusions. It made him eager to begin 'acting.'

-x-X-x-