After understanding the "hint" from the Snake of Mercury, Will, Edward immediately made up his mind—this time, he had to leverage every possible connection and resource to eliminate Botis!
Mr. A's lips curved slightly. "Oh? Seems like you've hidden things more 'deeply' than I thought. What's the plan?"
"Starting today, I'll operate in the East Borough and South of the Bridge. Then, I'll pretend that I've been exposed during a pursuit. You'll hide nearby, and we'll let the Aurora Order leak my whereabouts."
Before Mr. A could respond, Edward continued, "Of course, this is an extremely clumsy act. I'm blatantly telling Botis that I'm bait, and that I'm collaborating with Mr. A to lay a trap for him."
"…Then we just wait patiently. If the evil god who's been manipulating Botis truly wants me dead, I'm sure Botis will show up!"
Mr. A closed his eyes, seemingly listening intently to something. After a moment, he nodded slightly. "Fine."
"Then, this hunt—officially begins now!"
———
[Hillston Borough—Quelaag Club]
Ever since he helped Lady Mary photograph evidence of her husband's infidelity, Klein had officially become a member of the Quelaag Club through her introduction. He even made a few acquaintances here, like the aristocratic riding instructor Talim Dumont and the surgeon Aaron Ceres.
However, Klein wasn't particularly interested in the hedonistic lifestyle of the club. The main reason he came regularly was to practice shooting at the underground range.
And the food.
This morning, he had already started working on a commission he received yesterday from a lady. Unfortunately, all he had was a name—without more details, even divination was out of the question. After all, in Backlund, a city with millions of people, the number of individuals with the same name was just too many.
So, after flipping a few coins, he decided to try his luck at the club. Sadly, after wandering around for a while, he came up empty-handed.
"Oh well, since I'm already here, might as well get some shooting practice in."
After a quick greeting to Talim, he was about to head down to the underground range when Talim hesitated and said, "May I ask you something, Mr. Moriarty?"
"Of course, go ahead."
Talim hesitated, then said, "I have a friend who suddenly seems like a completely different person. At first, he fell madly in love with a woman. Despite the vast difference in their social statuses, he was even ready to go against his family's wishes and marry her."
Klein chuckled. "Sounds like a very passionate man."
Talim shook his head. "That's just it—I've known him a long time and I'm familiar with his temperament. He is the kind to act impulsively for love…but…"
He took a deep breath. "He suddenly fell in love with another woman! The same kind of obsession, the same madness. And the first woman—he didn't forget her. When I asked about her, he clearly remembered, but his attitude had shifted from fanatical to indifferent. It's as if everything before had been an act."
Uh…that sounds like classic scumbag behavior.
Seeing the expression on Klein's face, Talim grew serious. "I'm sure he's not the kind of man who loves every woman he meets. His behaviour…is absolutely not normal."
Klein was stunned. If it really was as Talim described, then his friend's transformation might indeed involve some supernatural elements.
"You want me to look into this?"
Talim nodded at first, but then shook his head. "I do…but his identity is far too special. Investigating him won't be easy. Even getting close to him may be impossible."
Klein laughed. "Talim, don't underestimate the capabilities of an experienced detective. Your friend's not a prince or a princess, right?"
Talim opened his mouth but said nothing, staring blankly at Klein in silence.
Klein's smile froze on his face. He cleared his throat. "Ahem…You can't be serious? That's…a little beyond what a detective can handle."
"Sigh…"
Talim let out a long sigh. "I know this sounds irresponsible, but…if by any chance you can uncover the truth behind my friend's change, I promise you'll be handsomely rewarded."
"Uh…"
Klein could only give an awkward smile. He didn't even ask for more information and instead found an excuse to leave, heading toward the underground shooting range.
Unexpectedly, he saw the surgeon Aaron there. It was surprising—every time they'd met before, Aaron had made it clear that his hands were meant to save lives, not to shoot guns.
But he wasn't actually shooting. He was sitting on the side, watching a boy around ten years old practice shooting.
"Aaron, what brings you to the range?"
Aaron nodded toward the child. "Came with my adopted son. He says I'm always too busy, and that as the only man in the house, he has to learn some skills to protect his mother."
"What a good kid."
"Yeah, Will really is everything I could ask for in a child."
A rare smile crept across Aaron's face, but then he lowered his voice and said, "Mr. Moriarty, I think I've encountered something strange recently. You're a famous detective—you must know quite a few people, right?"
Klein didn't quite get what he meant, so he casually replied, "I suppose so."
"Do you know anyone like a village witch doctor? No, I mean…someone skilled in divination or who's into mysticism. I think—no, I feel—like I've been too lucky lately…abnormally lucky."
"Too lucky…to the point of being abnormal?"
Klein looked slightly confused.
Aaron lowered his voice. "Yes, every time I leave the house, I find gold coins, wallets—even checks. Recently, all the patients coming to my clinic have been wealthy aristocrats or magnates. Their illnesses weren't serious, yet somehow no other hospital could cure them. But when I perform even the simplest surgeries, they recover immediately. Then there are my investments—projects that had been losing money for half a year suddenly shot up like mad. Even the value of my clinic building has multiplied four or five times because of some new road planning."
As he spoke, he exhaled slowly. "And that's just the beginning—big or small, I've been bombarded with all sorts of good fortune."
Klein: "…"
Buddy, if you're so troubled by this kind of luck, just give it to me!
"At first, I thought it was a blessing, a reward from the gods for the good deeds I've done in the past," Aaron continued. "But…this luck came too fast and too often—it's unnatural. I looked into some books and found accounts saying that this kind of abnormal fortune could be borrowing from one's future fate. In the short term, things seem great, but it might all end in a catastrophic disaster."
Hearing this, Klein's expression grew serious.
Back in his previous life, there was a saying: "The Law of Balanced Luck"—a streak of good luck was often followed by a stretch of bad, and vice versa. Of course, that was usually just a way for unlucky people to console themselves.
But in this world, where the extraordinary existed…nothing was out of the question.
He thought for a moment, then asked, "Aaron, think carefully—when exactly did your streak of good luck begin?"
Aaron rubbed his chin and pondered for a while. Then his gaze shifted to his adoptive son, Will, who was still shooting. He muttered, "I think…it started after I adopted Will."
Klein instinctively looked over just as the boy turned his head. In that instant, those dazzling eyes glimmered with something…strange.
"Hello, Mr. Detective," the child said sweetly. "I think you might be running into some bad luck soon."
For reasons he couldn't explain, a chill ran down Klein's spine.
This child…was definitely not normal.
———
In the basement of a house in the West Borough, several candles flickered with a dim, yellowish flame, casting light over the surrounding altars, chairs, and round table.
At the brightest spot, near the candlelight, a man sat quietly, draped in a mysterious black robe. His brown hair was slightly curled, stiff and bristly, and his deep eyes seemed to conceal countless secrets.
He was none other than Botis, the "Saint of Secrets," one of the five saints of the Aurora Order.
At that moment, near the edge of the candlelight—where the shadows were deepest—a thin, wavering silhouette began to emerge. It stretched and swayed like a living shadow, lacking thickness, barely visible to the eye.
"What do you want, Botis?"
Botis smiled slightly. "The one the Lord wants me to hunt has finally shown himself."
"Oh?"
"He happened to run out of spirituality while being chased in the East Borough, exposing his true identity. Coincidentally, members of the Aurora Order were nearby and discovered him."
"Hah, that's clearly a trap."
"I know that." Botis maintained his gentle smile. "He wants to use himself as bait to lure me out."
"So what do you plan to do?"
"Why, play right into his hands, of course."
A glint flashed through Botis's eyes. "Because…I'm bait too."
———
Two days later, in the evening.
Near the Docks of Backlund.
Edward and Mr. A walked side by side along the street, heading into a long-abandoned industrial zone. Once the site of a large factory, the place had gone bankrupt for unknown reasons. All that remained were hollowed-out buildings and crumbling walls. Debris littered the ground—broken glass, peeling plaster, and scraps of rusted metal.
"Heh, you deliberately picked a deserted place like this?" Mr. A sneered. "You're that confident he'll show?"
Edward said nothing. He entered one of the factory buildings and walked straight to a wooden crate. With a wave of his hand, he brushed off a thick layer of dust and sat down on top of it.
Mr. A's tone grew increasingly irritable. "We're just going to wait here?"
Edward nodded. "Do you have a better idea?"
Coldly, Mr. A replied, "Botis knows this is a trap, but that doesn't mean he'll walk into it the way you want. If it were me, I'd strike at a time and place where you'd be least prepared."
"Then I'll keep waiting here. If he never shows, I'll leave Backlund for good—and won't return until he's dead."
"…"
Mr. A was silent for a moment, then suddenly chuckled. "You said that for his ears, didn't you? You think he's already here?"
Edward shook his head. "If Botis heard it, then yes—it was for him. If not, then it serves as a reminder to myself."
As he spoke, he took out a small palm-sized notebook with a green-bronze cover and flipped it open casually. It contained handwritten notes of mystical abilities—the temporarily borrowed Leymano's Travels.
His voice was calm, almost like talking to himself, yet it clearly echoed in the still air:
"This is your last chance."
———
[Note]: The promised Extra Chapter. Enjoy~If you guys want another one tomorrow, we'd need to hit 385 Powestones. Go, VOTE!
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