32 LOTM

The Blue Avenger was like a leaf on the surface of the undulating waves of the Sonia Sea. At times, it was raised high and sometimes low from the ebbing of the waves, but there was no sign of it being at risk of capsizing.

Alger Wilson stood in the captain cabin, his back to the shelves of red and white wine, as he subconsciously paced around.

Finally, he gritted his teeth and returned to the mahogany desk with a grim expression. He removed the brass sextant, found a piece of paper and a pen, and leaned over to draw the complex, mysterious symbol given to him by The Fool.

With a Seafarer's memory, Alger quickly completed the first step of the sacrificial ritual.

Then, he opened the drawer and took out a candle. He set up the ritual according to the dualism principles and placed a candle above the symbol that was formed by the combination of the Pupil-less Eye and the partial contorted lines. One candle was placed in the middle that represented the person making the sacrifice.

After cleaning up all the items on the table, Alger condensed pure water in the palm of his hand and wiped the altar clean. He then used the silver dagger from the ceremony to create a sealing wall that surrounded his desk.

After doing all this, he used his spirituality to light up the two candles and retreated a few steps under the dim light.

Taking a deep breath, Alger lowered his head and recited in ancient Hermes,

"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era,

"You are the mysterious ruler above the gray fog;

"You are the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck.

"Your devoted servant prays for your attention,

"I pray for you to take his offerings.

"I pray for you to open the gates to your Kingdom."

...

This ancient incantation reverberated within the wall of spirituality, stirring up spiraling gales as they swept forth with the force of nature.

It was the oldest sacrificial language created by human Beyonders, and it contained many mysteries itself. However, it lacked sufficient protection for the user.

Bearing with the pain that was akin to having knives slicing across his skin, Alger took out a small dark brown glass bottle from his pocket, unscrewed the lid, and poured out a lot of sesame-shaped granules.

These granules swirled with a metallic luster and exuded an indescribable sense of beauty.

Alger scattered these granules into the wind.

Whoosh!

The gale grew stronger but was no longer tempestuous. It was dyed in two separate colors—silver and black.

As they continued to collide and mix, the two differently-colored winds were infused into the candle flame that symbolized The Fool, burgeoning and tearing open an illusory ordinary-sized door. Its surface was carved with the same symbol that Alger had drawn.

At this moment, Klein witnessed the appearance of the hazy door behind his high-back chair. He could feel the spirituality in the air that was rippling apart and stimulating the mysterious space.

It seems to be working... Klein suddenly had a premonition and immediately spread out his spirituality, infusing it with upheavals and stimulation.

Creak!

Amidst the insubstantial sounds, the blurry door slowly opened!

In the captain cabin, Alger suddenly saw the illusory door, formed out of wind and light, open. Behind it was deep darkness formed from an innumerable number of almost invisible shadows. They were lustrous splendors encompassing massive amounts of knowledge. Situated above them was the thick gray fog with the ancient palace overlooking the real world.

Such a scene caused Alger to involuntarily tremble. It was a deep fear, an indescribable excitement.

He hurriedly picked up the Rainbow Salamander's pituitary gland that he had long prepared. He held it with both hands, and, with his head bowed, he raised the palm-sized object which was constantly changing in color and had a soft feel to the ridges to the illusory door.

Alger's hands grew lighter under the sudden appearance and instant disappearance of a suction force. He lost the slight tingling sensation that the Rainbow Salamander's pituitary gland gave him.

He didn't dare raise his head until he heard the deep voice of The Fool echoing in his ears.

"You did well."

"It's my honor," Alger answered without any hesitation.

He looked ahead again, only to see that the illusory door had disappeared. The gale had stopped, and the candle flames had returned to their original state.

After the candles were extinguished according to the normal procedures, Alger sat down with a complicated expression and said to himself silently, In the beginning, only people could be pulled into the world above the gray fog... After a while, responses could be made by listening to prayers... Now, sacrifices and bestowment can be performed... Mr. Fool is freeing himself from his predicament one step at a time, and bit by bit, will he enter the real world?

This guess or conclusion frightened and worried Alger, but he also felt a bit of delight.

At least I'm a member of the Tarot Club — one of the earliest members...

He sighed.

...

In the majestic palace above the gray fog, Klein was playing with the pituitary gland of the Rainbow Salamander. Various colors were reflected on his face as they constantly changed colors.

A slight tingling sensation came from his palm, and a strong sense of accomplishment filled his heart, causing him to reveal a genuine smile.

In the future, the Tarot Club will become even more miraculous... After reflecting over the situation, Klein extended his spirituality and sent his will to the crimson star representing Miss Justice.

After returning to her bedroom, Audrey was no longer able to sit quietly on the edge of the bed. She would restlessly flip through the books by her bed and from time to time, scrutinize herself in the mirror with an unfocused gaze.

She was looking forward to the completion of The Hanged Man's sacrificial ritual, but she was also afraid that the result would be a failure.

Emperor Roselle had said that one must remain calm and collected when important matters arise... Audrey, come on, take a deep breath... Or perhaps, I should go tease the dog? However, Susie can talk and think, so she's an entity with her own dignity. I can't just casually tease her... Audrey's mind wandered, her hand unconsciously wringing an ornate doll dressed in splendid clothing.

After an unknown period of time, a thick gray fog suddenly appeared before her eyes, and in the depths of the fog, there was a lofty chair.

Sitting there, The Fool said with a smile, "Miss Justice, the attempt was successful. Have you prepared the materials that contain spirituality?"

That's great! As expected of Mr Fool! Audrey forgot The Hanged Man's role in this matter. She held back her excitement and said, "Yes, I always have such materials with me."

Audrey had been the same even before she joined the Tarot Club, but back then, she didn't know which materials could be considered to contain spirituality. She had merely moved them from the family treasury in accordance with the various essential oil formulas she had gathered.

Klein nodded slightly and said, "When do you plan on holding the ritual?

"This is based on the premise that there are no Beyonders around you."

Does a Beyonder dog count... Audrey looked at the tightly-shut door, feeling a small tug at her conscience.

"I can do it now."

Klein tersely acknowledged.

"The ritual's process is the same as I described previously. All you need to do is change the prayer to—

"Your devoted servant prays for your attention,

"I pray for you to open the gates to your Kingdom.

"I pray for you to give me strength.

"In addition to this, use the dualism method."

Audrey thought it over, fighting the urge to nod, and she began preparing for the ritual.

When the illusory door opened, and a scene even more illusory than the starry sky appeared, Audrey felt intoxicated in both body and mind.

This is the mysterious world I've always been pursuing. This is the kind of feeling I've always wanted! She praised Mr. Fool wholeheartedly.

It's faith towards the Goddess, but for The Fool, it's worship. Audrey silently explained herself in her mind.

Soon after, she was stunned to see that there was something on the "altar." It was a soft object with lustrous color and was filled with ridges.

"The Rainbow Salamander's pituitary gland!" Audrey felt a surge of joy in her heart. Her eyes lit up as she had the urge to step forward and grab it.

However, her customs of etiquette took hold of her as she sincerely praised Mr. Fool once again.

After finishing the ritual, she impatiently walked forward and carefully examined the Beyonder material five times.

Our Tarot Club is at a higher level than all the other secret organizations... Audrey secretly felt smug.

She then glanced warily at the door, as if afraid of Susie's sudden intrusion.

She had to redouble her efforts and immediately concoct the potion to complete her advancement!

A few minutes later, she held a bottle of liquid that contained constantly changing lusters that could shine to the bottom of everyone's hearts.

She confidently drank the Telepathist potion and successfully tide through the integration stage with the Beyonder characteristics, achieving an advancement.

The view before her seemed to clear up significantly, with a great increase in other aspects. Audrey familiarly used Cogitation to restrain the dissipating spirituality.

After her Sequence stabilized, she smiled and walked briskly to the door, letting in the golden retriever. She saw the obvious suspicion on Susie's face.

"You took far longer than usual." Susie didn't hide her thoughts.

Audrey sat down on an ottoman and dryly laughed before changing the subject.

"Susie, tell me—how should I secretly inform Xio and Fors about a particular matter without revealing myself; yet get them interested?"

Before she finished her sentence, Audrey had begun to seriously ponder over the mission Mr. Fool had assigned her.

Then, she looked at Susie, and Susie looked back at her. The human and dog both fell into deep thought at the same moment.

...

After completing his goal, Klein returned to reality, slept for a little more than an hour before hurrying out the door. He spent a pound to buy a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, wigs, and a variety of mustaches that could be torn off and stuck on with adhesives. They were disguises he would need later.

Before dinner, he made a trip to East Borough, the most crowded area and the most unsafe part of the city. He rented a one-bedroom house at the rent of four soli, three pence a week. He paid two weeks rent and a deposit, coming up to a total of 17 solis.

Only then did Klein complete all his early preparations. East Borough also left a deep impression on him. Most of the streets here were the same as Tingen's Lower Street, but the area that shared the traits was many times larger.

The clothes of the residents here were old but decent. Many of them were dressed in shabby clothes with sallow skin and thin frames. It was as though they would turn into beasts at any moment due to their hunger or poverty. Therefore, gangs ran rampant in East Borough.

When he got back to Cherwood Borough, Klein felt as if he had entered heaven from hell.

For the next two days, he experimented with using his spirituality to perform the rituals and create charms. He no longer prayed to the Goddess and waited for the effects of his tiny advertisements to bear fruit.

On Thursday morning, Klein finally heard the doorbell ring.

-x-X-x-

Ding! Dong! A rope was being tugged, causing the doorbell and the sound it made to constantly tinkle and send its sound echoing throughout the spacious but relatively empty living room.

Klein, who was seated on the sofa reading a newspaper to study the various investment opportunities, stood up. He was wearing a white shirt and a black vest without a bow tie, just like what one would wear at home.

The first job in my career as a detective? But I can't always be at home, waiting for a mission to arrive. Yes... I need to hang a notice on the door, along with a fountain pen, so that clients can write down the time of their next visit and allow me to prepare in advance... However, for a new detective in this profession, without any fame, doing so would basically be the same as not having a "next time"... Sigh, I can only go through the trouble of performing a divination in the morning to see if I would receive any jobs for the day. And if so, what time so as to make plans... Of course, it's also possible that I would miss out on missions from powerful Beyonders. Well, so be it, it might be a good thing after all...

He walked to the door, and without looking through the peephole, the image of the visitors outside appeared in his mind:

One of them was an old lady in a black plush hat. Her back was slightly hunched, and her face was deeply wrinkled. Her skin was shriveled and sallow, but her dark dress was very formal and neat.

Her temples were completely white, but her blue eyes were quite lively. She was looking at the young man beside her, gesturing for him to pull the doorbell again.

The young man was in his twenties, with eyes similar to those of the old lady's. In the progressively cold weather, he wore a black double-breasted coat, a half top hat, and a bow tie like he was about to attend a banquet, it was as if he wouldn't relax his demands of himself at any moment.

With the help of a Clown's premonition, Klein turned the handle, opened the door, and greeted his visitors with a smile before the bell could ring again.

"Good morning, Madam, Sir. What a wonderful day it is, at least up to this point for I have already seen the sun for five minutes."

He spoke of the weather in a slightly exaggerated manner, small talk that had been popular in Backlund for more than a century.

"Yes, it's always shy and doesn't come out from behind the fog and the dark clouds." The old lady nodded in agreement.

By her side, the lad asked, "Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?"

"Yes, and what may I help you with? I'm sorry, please come in. Let's sit down and talk." Klein turned his body to the side, making way for his guests as he pointed to the guest area.

"No, there's no need. I don't want to waste any time. My poor Brody is still waiting for me to save it!" the old lady said with a rather sharp voice.

"It?" Klein noticed the most important pronoun and suddenly had a bad feeling.

The very formally dressed young man nodded and said, "Brody is a cat owned by my grandmother, Madam Doris. He went missing last night, and I hope you can help us find him. We live at the end of this street, and I'm willing to pay you 5 soli for it. Of course, if you can prove that you've spent more time and effort than that, I'll make it up to you."

Find a cat? The reason why you're entrusting me with this job is simply because of the convenience stemming from how we live on the same street... Klein felt that this wasn't the detective career that he had imagined.

It makes me look like a clown... Well, I can't turn down my first business deal. This is a seer's point of view... He pondered for a few seconds and asked, "Can you describe it in detail?"

Granny Doris spoke out before the young man could open his mouth.

"Brody is a lovely, lively black cat. It's very healthy, has beautiful green eyes, and loves to eat cooked chicken breast. Goddess, last night, he ran off just like that. No, it must've gotten lost. I've placed lots of chicken breast in its bowl, but it refuses to return to take a look.

... Klein's lips curved up and said, "I'm very satisfied with your description, Mrs. Doris."

"I accept this request. Alright, let's go to your home now. I need to search for clues and find traces. You should be clear that the basis of my reasoning lies in the details." Mrs. Doris didn't consult her grandson as she nodded and said, "You're the most proactive detective I've ever seen. It's a deal!"

Klein put on his coat and hat, picked up his cane, and followed Madam Doris and her grandson out onto the street.

Unlike Tingen, roads in many parts of Backlund had been rebuilt with cement or asphalt. Even during a downpour, the roads were less muddy.

While the old lady was leading the way, his grandson came close to Klein and said in a low voice, "I hope you'll do your best to find Brody. It's been one of the pillars of my grandmother's life ever since my grandfather and parents passed away."

"After Brody went missing, something went wrong with my grandmother's mind, so much so that she's started hearing things. She keeps telling me that she hears poor Brody mewing miserably."

Klein immediately nodded and said, "I'll do my best. Right, I still haven't gotten your name."

"Jurgen, Jurgen Cooper, a senior solicitor," the young man replied.

Soon, they reached 58 Minsk Street and entered the dark house.

"This is Brody's bowl. This is his favorite box. He always sleeps here." Doris's wrinkled face was filled with worry and expectation.

Klein squatted down and found several strands of black cat fur in the box.

He straightened up and gripped his silver-inlaid cane with the hand that held the cat's fur.

Klein's gaze turned deep as he pretended to observe his surroundings as he silently recited a divination sentence.

His hand secretly slipped from the end of the cane but didn't leave it completely. It just made it difficult for Jurgen or Doris to notice that the cane was standing on its own.

Soon after, the black silver-inlaid cane tilted to the side. It fell very slowly, with very little movement.

Klein gripped the cane again, looked in that direction, and observed it for more than ten seconds.

Then, he strode over to an old cupboard.

"Any signs of Brody running away?" Jurgen asked with concern. The old lady, Doris, was also waiting for an answer.

Without answering, Klein kneeled and pulled open the door at the bottom of the cupboard.

Meow!

A black cat darted out, tail high, and ran for its bowl.

"Brody... When did you get into the cupboard? How did you get locked in there?" Mrs. Doris cried, surprised and confused.

Jurgen turned his head in surprise and looked at Klein.

"How did you know it was in the cupboard?"

Klein smiled, and replied in a deep voice, "Inference, my good man."

...

After obtaining the 5 soli reward from Mrs. Doris and Jurgen, as well as their friendship, Klein returned to 15 Minsk Street under the gloomy weather.

Before he even got close, he saw a figure loitering in front of his door.

More business? When Klein looked over, he saw that the visitor was a boy of fifteen or sixteen, dressed in an old coat and a round hat that didn't fit his age.

It's him? Klein immediately recognized him as the boy he had met on the steam train the day he had arrived in Backlund. Back then, he was being pursued, but his maturity and calmness at the time had left quite a deep impression on Klein.

What would he want to entrust me with... As he wondered, Klein walked over and smiled.

"Excuse me, are you looking for me?"

The teenage boy was startled as he quickly turned around, his bright red eyes filled with unconcealable fear.

He composed himself and asked hesitantly, "Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?"

"Yes." Klein looked around and said, "Let's talk inside."

"Alright." The teenage boy didn't refuse.

Inside, Klein didn't take off his coat, but he did take off his hat and put his cane away.

He led the teenage boy to the guest area, pointed at the long sofa and said, "Please, have a seat. How might I address you? What job do you have for me?"

"You can call me Ian," the teenage boy surveyed his surroundings and fell silent for a few seconds. "I was previously hired by another detective, Mr. Zreal Viktor Lee, who helped me gather some news and information."

Klein sat down, clasped his hands, and said, "Does the job have anything to do with your former employer?"

"Yes," Ian nodded solemnly. "A few days ago I suddenly found myself being followed, by someone with ill intentions; therefore, I thought of a way to lose their tail... Uh... I believe you saw this scene yourself, Mr. Moriarty. I recognized you as the man who was sizing me up on the metro that day as soon as I saw you."

... This level of observational skills isn't any worse than a Spectator's... Could it be that he was born with a special ability? Or is he a Beyonder? Klein activated his Spirit Vision and looked at Ian, but he didn't find anything strange.

He nodded and calmly replied, "Your response left an impression on me."

Ian didn't harp on the topic and continued, "I suspect that my encounter has something to do with Mr. Zreal, so I went to visit him at his place. I found the place seemingly normal, but there were many hints that indicated that someone had infiltrated and triggered all the tiny mechanisms.

"I haven't seen Mr. Zreal since that day. I suspect that something has happened to him.

"I tried to call the police, but his disappearance period has yet to reach the required number of days to make the request. I tried to get help from other detectives that I knew, but all of them turned me down, on the grounds that they had just met Mr. Zreal at a fellow detective's party.

"That surprised me because I didn't receive any response from Mr. Zreal when I contacted him using the agreed upon method.

"I still stood by my judgment and intended to ask for the help of a detective whom Mr. Zreal doesn't know. Well, as such, that meant it would be someone I don't know either. I had no idea who to look for as well. Therefore, I could only search through the newspapers and ended up finding you, Mr. Sherlock Moriarty."

-x-X-x-

Klein asked after listening carefully, "So you suspect that the Zreal whom the detectives saw was someone in disguise?"

Holding his brown round hat, Ian replied as if he had already thought about it, "It's a possibility, but I think it's too difficult due to the huge risks involved. The party was at night, and it's true that the lights weren't very bright — but most of the people attending are detectives, detectives with keen observational skills. Just a wig, beard, or cosmetics can hardly hide from their eyes."

Perhaps some Beyonder powers can do it... Just like how Creeping Hunger enables such an ability... There was a little trap in Klein's question. He wished to determine from the teenage boy's answer, the expression on his face, and his body language to determine if he had ever come into contact with Beyonders, or if he knew things about mysticism.

The initial answer was no.

When Ian saw Detective Moriarty nodding slightly in agreement with his reasoning, he continued, "I believe that the detectives saw Mr. Zreal, but he wasn't free. He was in a controlled state in which he couldn't send out distress signals. The reason why he wasn't responding to my attempts to liaison with him is to probably signal to me that he needs help."

"A reasonable explanation." Klein released his clasped hands and sat back a little, making himself look more relaxed and confident.

Ian fell silent for about ten seconds before he said seriously, "I'd like to entrust you with the task of investigating Mr. Zreal and determine his current condition. All I need is confirmation."

Considering that Ian was a semi-professional who had gathered intelligence and information for a detective, Klein had the intention to make his acquaintance. He smiled and said, "Then how much are you going to pay? You should be well aware that this may be very dangerous."

Ian looked down at the pocket of his old coat and said after some deliberation, "There are two ways. The first, I can directly give you a payment that's enough to satisfy you. Afterward, regardless of whether the mission is simple or difficult, that will be all unless you suffer a relatively serious injury.

"Secondly, I could pay you five pounds in advance, and when you finish the job, you can add on to the bill depending on the difficulty of the matter. But it's easy to cause a dispute, even if there's a contract."

Klein pretended to be in thought and after almost thirty seconds, he said in a low voice, "Why don't we do it this way? You can pay me five pounds in advance and help me with three things after the mission is completed. Don't worry, they won't be anything difficult. They will be within your capabilities, and it won't make you feel too uncomfortable. This can be agreed upon in the contract."

Ian knitted his brows before standing up. He leaned forward and stretched out his right hand.

"Alright!"

Klein shook hands with him, pulled out a standard contract that he had prepared, picked up a round fountain pen, added all the details he had discussed, and stamped it with his fingerprint.

After signing the contract, he gave the teenage boy, Ian, a stack of white paper and watched him write Detective Zreal's relevant information.

After a while, he browsed through the information and casually asked, "How can I contact you if there's an emergency, or if I've confirmed Zreal's condition?"

Ian pursed his lips and remained silent for quite a while. Only when Klein looked over did he reply in a somewhat stiff manner, "You don't need to contact me. I will appear at the right time."

Without another word, he took out a thick stack of cash from the pocket of his old coat. They seemed to be stacked up in a very neat order, from high face value to low face value.

Ian pulled out three one-pound notes from the bottom, counted six five-soli notes, and finally ten one-soli notes.

When Klein saw that Ian had neatly arranged the notes, with even the portraits of the former kings facing up without a single mistake, Klein suddenly felt a bit frustrated.

This is some late-stage obsessive-compulsive disorder... He silently exhaled and received the payment from Ian.

According to his visual estimate, Ian had less than three pounds left.

He probably had all his savings with him... If I had asked for more, would he bail on me without paying? He doesn't look like the kind of person to do so, but one shouldn't judge a book by its cover... Klein folded the bills at random and stuffed them into his pocket, ignoring the untidiness. As such, he succeeded in seeing Ian's slightly twisted expression.

"I'll try to complete the investigation as soon as possible." Klein stood up and held out his hand as a gesture of bidding him farewell.

"Thank you for your help." Ian thanked him sincerely because the counteroffer was obviously a "discount."

Watching the boy who was more mature than his age leave, Klein stroked his chin and silently said to himself, This matter goes deeper than it seems.

Ian didn't mention anything about Zreal's recent investigations or what information he had been instructed to gather...

Forget it. I'll handle as much as the money is worth. All I need to do is confirm Zreal's current condition.

He turned around and walked back into the living room. While doing so, he fished a quarter pence out of his trouser pocket.

Ping!

As the copper coin tumbled in the air, Klein's eyes turned dark as he muttered if there were any Beyonder elements in the case he was handling.

Then, he opened his right hand and tried to catch the copper penny.

Clang! The coin slipped from his fingertips and fell to the ground, rolling away.

This result meant that the divination had failed.

From the looks of it, Ian has withheld more things than I thought... The information is so lacking that I can't even obtain a vague divination result... He pursed his lips, took a few steps forward, and bent down to pick up the coin.

...

That night, in the wee hours of the morning, at 138 Rose Street, Backlund Bridge.

Klein had changed into a cheap light-blue workman's outfit. His mouth, chin, and cheeks were covered with a black beard that, at first glance, made him look rough and savage.

He wore a dark-colored cap and pressed it so low that it nearly covered his eyes.

Such caps originated from the Intis Republic hunters. There were certain differences from the traditional deer-hunting caps the Loen Kingdom hunters wore. However, such caps had become popular among the lower-class populace of Backlund.

Hiding in the shadows of an Intis parasol tree by the side of the road, Klein studied the house across the street with the aid of the elegant gas lamps.

It was Zreal's home.

The detective was from Southville. His parents, relatives, and friends were all there, and he had come to Backlund alone where he slowly forged a name for himself.

He was still a bachelor and had only hired two temporary maids, the kind that came by every three days to clean up the place, without needing to provide them with food or lodging.

At the moment, the terrace house he rented was pitch dark.

Klein took off the silver chain inside his sleeve and let the topaz pendant hang down naturally.

"There's danger inside.

"There's danger inside."

...

After repeating it seven times, he opened his eyes and saw the spirit pendulum spinning clockwise, but very slowly.

"There's danger, but it's nothing serious," Klein muttered, and once again confirmed that he had his tarot cards, self-made charms, and Holy Night Powder on him.

After doing all this, he looked around, and taking advantage of the stillness of the night, he nimbly rushed across the street.

There was no veranda, garden, or lawn as it directly faced the edge of the street. Klein went around to the side and easily climbed up the water pipe to the small balcony on the second floor where clothes could be hung out to dry.

Immediately following that, he took out a tarot card and slid it through the crack, opening the door to the corridor.

Following Ian's drawing of the house's layout, Klein walked almost soundlessly to Zreal's bedroom.

He lightly tapped his left molar and activated his Spirit Vision. Through the wooden door, he looked inside.

Spirit Vision could see aura colors through obstacles without spirituality. However, it was highly dependent on one's abilities. Currently, Klein was able to observe through wooden doors but was stumped by concrete walls. Furthermore, the scenes he could see weren't too clear.

In his vision, he saw three humanoid auras in the bedroom behind the door. The colors were blurry and were located in different locations.

There are three people lying in ambush... Is it to capture Ian, or someone else? The bedroom isn't that big... Klein stood in the darkness, calmly considering the results of his observations.

At that moment, he suddenly retreated towards the balcony while keeping his footsteps very light.

Back at the balcony, Klein took a thin silver slice from his pocket.

This was a Slumber Charm that he had created in an attempt during the afternoon.

He didn't pray to the Evernight Goddess, but to himself instead. He held a ritual in the name of "The Fool that doesn't belong to this era, the mysterious ruler above the gray fog; the King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck" before entering the world above the gray fog to respond.

Since this method was difficult to mobilize the power of the mysterious space above the gray fog, Klein could only use his own spirituality to "respond." The charms that he made in the end were worse than normal, but better than the ones he made in his own name.

After surveying his surroundings again, Klein covered his mouth and whispered a word in ancient Hermes.

"Crimson."

Feeling the chill of the charm, he moved quickly but silently to the door of Zreal's bedroom again. As he held the handle, he injected spirituality into the thin silver slice.

Creak! Klein carefully twisted the handle and opened a tiny crack in the door.

Immediately after that, he threw the Slumber Charm inside.

Pulling back his arm, Klein closed the door again and began counting.

3

2

1

He abruptly pushed open the door and rolled on the ground.

Not sensing any movement from the three people, Klein stood up and, using the crimson moonlight shining through the window, began observing the room.

It was a normal furnished bedroom with a bed, a row of closets, a desk, a set of sofas, and a coat rack.

On the other side of the bed, a man in a black coat was sleeping soundly.

In addition to that, there was one person by the side of the sofa and another in front of the closet. All of them were asleep.

After confirming the trio's condition, Klein walked over to the bed and bent down to find a few short, yellowish-brown hair.

According to what Ian had written, Detective Zrell was a man with short, yellowish-brown hair.

"This should be right..." Klein whispered. He grabbed the few strands of hair and sat down on the sofa. He slowly sat in the darkness tainted by the crimson light and planned on using dream divination to find Zreal.

Leaning back against the back of the sofa, the corner of his mouth curled up as he made a self-deprecating comment, Deduction, my good man...

-x-X-x-

The dim room was covered in a thin veil of crimson moonlight, and everything was indistinct.

The three men in the black coats were sleeping in different spots. And on the sofa, Klein's eyes half-blended into the darkness by closing them, it was as if he had entered a deep slumber.

His dream was a gray, distorted world, occasionally flashing with brilliance.

Finally, the brilliance settled to form a scene.

It was a gloomy corner, the ground sloshed with sewage. A man with short brown hair, a white shirt, and a brown vest was leaning against the wall, surrounded by a dense mischief of gray rats.

Half of the man's lips had been bitten off, revealing his yellowish teeth and rotten gums. His nose was only stained with blood, mixed with some short hairs, and the flesh on his face had disappeared, piece by piece, revealing white bone. White, fat maggots were crawling around everywhere, constantly squirming, and his throat seemed to have been the victim of some wild beast; at least half of it was missing.

Klein could just barely make out that this was Zreal Viktor Lee. It was nearly impossible to relate him to the mature and handsome man in the black-and-white photograph he had taken with Ian.

Zreal is already dead. In a few days, he would probably be gnawed to the point where he would only be bone. He might not even have a complete skeleton left...Klein left the dream and recalled what he had just seen.

His past experiences had allowed him to witness similar corpses more calmly.

Looking out of the window at the crimson moon, Klein thought for more than ten seconds and decided to try communicating with the soul of the man in black next to the sofa.

During the last few days of preparations, he had concocted a bottle of Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medication. As for Serenity Agent, Klein had no need for it. He was personally capable of invading the dreams of others and forcefully communicating with their souls while maintaining calm and rationale.

After setting up a simple altar and letting the quiet and tranquil fragrance waft out to create a half-dreaming state, Klein prayed to himself, "The Fool that doesn't belong to this era."

Following that, he entered the world above the gray fog and used more than two-thirds of his spirituality to give a response.

When I advance to Sequence 7, such prayers should also allow me to use a little of the power of the mysterious space above the gray fog, just like my summoning and bestowment rituals... Looking around, Klein made a rough judgment and quickly returned to the real world.

He passed through what seemed like a starry sky and a chaotic storm of thoughts, entering the mental plane of the target. There, he saw the man's illusory figure floating in midair.

"Who sent you to Zreal's home?" Klein looked at him and asked in a deep voice.

The man replied in a daze, his illusory eyes vacant, "Meursault. Meursault sent me to wait for the boy named Ian."

The light in his spiritual world changed, revealing a lean, capable-looking, dark-skinned man. He was none other than the leader of the group who was chasing Ian on the steam train.

As expected, it's him... Klein, who had exhausted so much of his spirituality in responding to the prayer, was beginning to feel exhausted. He hurriedly asked, "Who ordered Meursault?"

"No idea... He's an 'executioner' of our Zmanger gang. No one can order him other than the boss," the man said, blankly.

Zmanger... The word "warrior" in the language of the highlanders... Klein, a pseudo-historian but a true mysticism scholar, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, and his body involuntarily flew out of the storm of thoughts.

Not long afterwards, he exited the mediumship and felt his head throbbing.

He was in no hurry to leave. He methodically packed up the materials and the short yellowish-brown hair before opening the oriel window to let in the cold night wind to disperse the smell of the Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medication.

While this happened, Klein returned to the balcony, locked the door from the inside, and wiped off all the places he had touched.

When Zreal's bedroom returned to its original state, he then held his hand to his chest and bowed towards the three men who were still sleeping soundly.

Straightening his back, Klein put on his gloves and leaped, nimbly flipping out of the oriel window. He stood firmly, tiptoeing in the abnormally tight space.

He raised the open window's vertical latch and used a tarot card to hold its bottom. With his Clown abilities, he took in the details and adjusted the balance.

After a few seconds, Klein slowly pulled back the tarot card, and the vertical latch suddenly stopped in place and didn't fall further.

Whoosh!

First, he closed the unlatched half of the window, then he jumped over to the window with a latch. His right hand jerked inward, closing the other half of the window.

The speed of the action was so quick that the latch didn't fall down until there was a vibration, accurately inserting itself into the matching hole.

Clang! A sound that was difficult to eliminate rang out, like a strong wind slamming onto the surface of the glass.

Klein knew that the three men in the bedroom were about to awaken. Without further ado, he jumped onto the street.

For the current him, the height from the second floor wouldn't pose any danger. It was just that he couldn't maintain his silence when he landed, so he didn't make any obvious noises.

Klein quickly left the vicinity, as well as Rose Street, but he didn't directly take a rental carriage back to Cherwood Borough's Minsk Street.

He turned a few corners and headed to the neighboring East Borough.

It was a cold night, and the wind sent a biting chill right into his bones. Klein shivered and decided that he would need an additional sweater for his future missions. He decided to buy charcoal on one of the following days and let the fireplace carry out its role.

After an unknown period of time, he entered Backlund's East Borough despite not having a map. He had completely relied on instinct.

There were only a few gas lamps to be seen in the distance, and if it wasn't for the fact that the dark clouds hadn't covered the crimson moon, Klein believed that many parts of the road would be pitch black.

As he was walking, he suddenly saw pairs of eyes appear in the deep darkness in front of him. They came stooping from a distance.

They sauntered over from a vague distance away, in silence.

Living corpses? Klein came to a sudden halt. He reached out for his Requiem Charm and tarot cards, and he quickly activated his Spirit Vision.

He saw the unhealthy and weak colored auras and saw the faces of the numerous figures.

These were all living people, normal living people with numbed expressions, vacant eyes, and weak movements. There were both men and women.

It's almost midnight; why are they still walking on the streets... Confused, Klein warily leaned to one side, passing the group on the sidewalk, but soon, he came across a second wave, a third wave; all of them had the same pain amidst numbness.

He frowned slightly, and just as he was about to move forward to inquire, he suddenly heard a shout ahead.

"Get up! All of you get up!

"You sons of bitches!

"The streets and parks aren't for people like you to sleep in!"

... Klein was startled, then the corresponding term "Poor Law" popped up in his mind, and he understood what was going on.

He had experienced the same thing himself.

Phew... Klein exhaled, picked up the pace, and headed for his one-bedroom house on Black Palm Street in the East Borough.

There, he slept for two hours. After recovering some of his spirituality, he went out again and broke a withered branch to serve as a "dowsing rod."

"The location of Zreal's corpse.

"The location of Zreal's corpse."

...

After repeated divinations, Klein walked for a long time with the help of the short yellowish-brown hair until he arrived at a corner of East Borough where there was a sewer entrance.

Twelve years ago, after the great plague, the Loen Kingdom gradually built up an advanced sewer system in the capital and, in one fell swoop, surpassed "Roselle's Heritage" of the Intis Republic.

Moving the manhole cover out the way, Klein held his breath and climbed down the vertical metal stairs.

Since his clothes weren't specially made, he was unable to bring too many items due of the lack of pockets. He hadn't brought Quelaag's Oil which he had learned about from Frye. Klein felt especially regretful for not having brought the refreshing and odor-dispelling Quelaag's Oil.

Ten seconds later, Klein's feet touched the sticky ground.

The feeling of filth caused fine goosebumps to pop up over his arms and body. However, he could only endure it and continue walking forward, venturing deeper into the empty and quiet sewer.

There was a fork in the road ahead, one which was relatively hidden. A thick pungent smell wafted over from there.

Klein turned around and walked to the end where he saw a dense number of spirituality light dots and aura colors.

Without needing to use a candle, he activated his Spirit Vision and directly saw that in the dark corner, there was a rotten corpse that had been bitten to pieces.

This was the exact same scene he had seen in the dream divination.

Squeak!

The densely packed gray rats scampered in every direction, but there were also some who stayed where they were, unwilling to leave and part with their food.

After confirming that it was Zreal, Klein hesitated for a moment before quickly setting up a mediumship ritual.

Hmm... If there's nothing wrong with Ian's description, and Zreal died only a few days ago, I should be able to get some rough information by channeling his spirit...he thought confidently.

Whoosh!

As the wind swirled and the wall of spirituality was set up, all the rats fled, and Klein proceeded with his ritual as he had done before.

"The cause of Zreal's death. "

"The cause of Zreal's death."

...

As he recited the words, Klein's eyes turned black. His pupils and the whites of his eyes disappeared. He quickly used Cogitation to enter a dream.

However, nothing appeared in that misty, illusory world.

Klein opened his eyes, frowning slightly as he made his judgment.

The channeling failed...

Someone has dealt with Zreal's spirit...

A Beyonder was involved in this.

The fact that someone was able to disguise as Zreal, making the other detectives unable to see through him, also proves this point.

After some deliberation, Klein came to a decision; it was to end this matter here and not get involved any further. Regardless, he had fulfilled the requirements of the job that he was entrusted with.

"I'll get Ian to call the police," he muttered as he put away the materials and removed the wall of spirituality.

-x-X-x-

Klein backed up from the fork in the path, without touching Zreal's corpse.

Thump! Thump! Thump!

Suddenly, a sound echoed in the distance through the empty sewers.

Klein listened for a few seconds before decisively retreating towards the exit, down the dirty concrete road that ran along both sides of the sewage channel.

There was no need to take risks in matters that didn't involve him.

Klein closed the iron manhole cover after he climbed out of the sewers. After ensuring that the surrounding area looked normal, he returned to his rented room in the East Borough and changed out of his disguise.

Then, he put on his gold-rimmed glasses, walked to another street, took a rented carriage, and returned to Cherwood Borough in the silence and cold of three in the morning. However, he didn't return to Minsk Street.

Then, Klein made another huge detour, and only after confirming that no one was following him, did he enter his house. He slept till dawn and was woken up by the doorbell.

He sat up immediately, put on his shirt, buttoned his vest, and hurried down to the first floor to open the door.

And even before that, his premonition ability as a Clown was already capable of naturally forming the image of the visitor in his mind.

The visitor was wearing an old coat, a brown round hat, and a tattered satchel. He had bright red eyes, a delicate face, and a quiet temperament. It was none other than Ian, the teenage boy who had come to entrust him with a job yesterday.

"Good morning, Detective Moriarty," Ian greeted him and looked around. "Any progress? Yeah... I'm only asking because I happened to pass by."

Klein nodded seriously and said, "Yes."

"..." Ian seemed shocked as he didn't say a word for quite a while.

After a while, he stammered in surprise, "Have you determined Mr. Zreal's condition?"

"Yes." Klein paused for a moment, then said seriously, "I found Zreal's corpse."

"Corpse..." Ian's pupils shrank as he repeated it in a low tone.

He wasn't too surprised, as if he had already expected the worst possible outcome.

Klein watched silently without interjecting.

"Sigh..." Ian exhaled and warily surveyed his surroundings. "Your efficiency is amazing. Can you take me to see Mr. Zreal's body?"

"No problem. In fact, that's what I was planning to do." Klein then thought for a moment before saying, "I hope you won't mention me when you call the police. Just say that you found the corpse yourself. I believe you know how to make up a reason."

Ian wasn't surprised; he knew that not every detective liked to deal with the police. In fact, except for the very famous detectives, who often gave advice to the police with mutual cooperation, the rest were discriminated against, ostracized, and even extorted from.

This was the current situation of the Loen Kingdom.

"Alright," Ian readily agreed.

Considering that they were entering the sewers, Klein changed into a set of clothes worn by the common working class, put on a deer-hunting cap, and took a lantern with him.

Both of them took the public carriage to the East Borough. They walked for half an hour to reach the remote sewer entrance under the watchful gazes filled with numbness and malicious intent.

"How did you find it?" Ian asked, half-surprised and half-curious, as he watched Klein lift the manhole cover and climb down.

Klein focused on the area beneath him and answered casually, "Skillful training which includes many techniques in reasoning, investigation, tracking, and interrogation."

Ian followed him into the sewers. He nodded without looking disgusted.

"... You seem to have received very professional training."

Klein didn't answer him directly. He held the already lit lantern and led Ian to the fork in the path where they arrived at the gloomy corner.

He narrowed his eyes as he approached. More of Zreal's body was missing now when compared to the previous night. He was missing an arm and half of his ribs.

That's not something a rat can do... Klein muttered to himself and didn't inform Ian of this.

With the help of the lantern's light, Ian was able to clearly see the corpse's appearance.

He squatted down suddenly, vomited, and gradually vomited yellow-green bile. Klein took out the Quelaag's Oil he prepared, unscrewed the cap, and bent over to place the mouth close to Ian's nose.

Ian's eyes lit up, and he calmed down.

Nearly twenty seconds later, he weakly whispered, "Thank you..."

He stood up slowly and examined the mutilated corpse a few more times.

"I can confirm that this is Detective Zrell."

"My condolences," Klein replied out of politeness. "I suggest you call the police."

"Okay." Ian nodded indiscernibly as he followed Klein back to the surface.

At that moment, Klein clapped his hands.

"This is the end of my mission. As for what should be done after this, that is up to you."

Ian fell silent for a few seconds.

"I still owe you three matters. You can tell me now."

"Actually, I can only think of one at the moment," Klein answered frankly. "I want to know where I can get a gun and bullets, without needing a full class weapon permit."

Ian spoke, almost without thinking, "Go to Bravehearts Bar at Iron Gate Street in the Backlund Bridge district. Find Kaspars Kalinin. Tell him 'Old Geezer' introduced you."

"Alright, let's talk about the other two matters in the future. I have a feeling that we'll meet again." Klein deliberately nodded casually.

Ian gave him a look but didn't say anything.

The two split up and headed down different streets in the East Borough. The secluded spot, once again, regained its silence.

After walking for a while, Klein suddenly turned around and retraced his steps. He then hid himself in a secluded corner, peeking at the entrance to the sewer.

After waiting for two or three minutes, he saw Ian return silently as he looked around warily.

Klein withdrew his gaze in a timely manner, leaned his back against the wall, and listened.

He heard the scraping sound of the manhole cover being removed and heard someone climbing down.

Carefully poking his head out, Klein discovered that Ian had re-entered the sewers.

Was there a clue or something on Zreal's body? Indeed, this matter goes deeper than it seems... He nodded thoughtfully.

Having satisfied his curiosity, Klein decided to leave for real and planned to seek out Kaspars, two days later.

...

At tea time, Viscount Glaint was in his home situated in Empress Borough.

The door to the study was tightly shut, separating the four people inside from the participating guests in the salon outside.

"Xio, Fors, this is the reward the two of you deserve." Dressed in a pale yellow lace dress, Audrey pushed a bulging envelope across the desk to the two ladies sitting opposite her.

Xio wanted to say something polite, but her hand had reached for the envelope faster than her mouth. Feeling the weight of the money, she could only say sincerely, "Miss Audrey, thank you for your generosity. Your honesty makes you look even more beautiful."

As she spoke, she untied the thin string around the envelope and saw the bills inside.

It was uniform gray paper money with black stripes. The stack was thick and exuded a special smell of ink, one that left one feeling refreshed.

"10 pounds..." Xio took one note out and checked its face value. Beside her, Fors, who appeared lazy and unbothered by money, had also leaned over.

This is at least... Observing the thickness, Xio tried to figure out how many notes there were.

She couldn't help but exchange looks with Fors and saw the surprise in each other's eyes.

This was obviously a lot more than they had imagined!

Audrey smiled faintly and said, "A total of eight hundred pounds. Decide how you will split the money between the two of you.

"I'm very sorry that this matter had placed you in danger."

Eight hundred pounds... No, there's no need to apologize. Even if we had to do it again and knew of the possible consequences, I would still accept the request... Even if it's divided evenly, with my savings, it's enough to buy the potion formula for Sheriff...

Xio, who was slightly taller than 150cm, stared blankly at the notes in the envelope, wishing she could pull them all out and count them over and over again.

She believed that the generous and beautiful Miss Audrey wouldn't pay them any less, but what if she had made a mistake counting?

Everyone makes mistakes at times! Xio raised her right hand, paused for a few seconds, then silently lowered it.

The corners of Fors's lips couldn't help but rise as she said wistfully, "This is even more than the royalties I've received for my 'Stormwind Mountain Villa' so far..."

Should I praise Miss Audrey or laugh at the poverty of an author? She added silently.

Viscount Glaint, who was sitting on the sofa, was also a little envious, but it wasn't directed at Xio or Fors. As a viscount with a fairly good financial situation, 800 pounds wasn't a large sum.

What he envied was Audrey's ability to hand out money without feeling the slightest burden.

"Ahem..." Viscount Glaint cleared his throat, "If you can get the formula for Apothecary, I will also provide you with substantial payment."

"We'll do our best!" Xio answered without any hesitation. Then, she looked at Audrey. "We've recently come into contact with someone who's suspected to be from the Psychology Alchemists, and we'll soon have clues regarding the Spectator potion you're looking for."

Xio, I'm already at Sequence 8; far stronger than you... Audrey smiled in a reserved manner as she said, "I'm looking forward to it."

With that said, the four began chatting about various rumors among the Beyonder circles while following Audrey's example of finding books they wished to read.

Suddenly, Xio's eyes lit up as she saw two hardcover books.

"History of the Loen Kingdom's Aristocracy" and "Study of the Coat of Arms"

Meanwhile, Fors also found books that interested her.

"Geography and People of the Feysac Empire" and "Traveling the Northern Continent"

"Honorable Viscount Glaint, may I borrow these two books? I'll return them soon." Xio looked pleadingly at the owner of the study.

Glaint nodded without much care.

"No problem.

At his response, Fors hurriedly made a request as well and similarly obtained his approval.

The corners of Audrey's mouth curved into a faint smile as she witnessed all of this. She looked modestly to the side, pretending to be looking for a book.

As a qualified Spectator who had just advanced, she had accurately grasped Xio's and Fors's preferences in certain domains after being in contact with them multiple times. Thus, she had made arrangements in advance without anyone realizing it.

Letting the one being guided feel like it was done out of their own will was a manifestation of the powers of a Spectator.

...

In the evening, Xio was curled up on the sofa in front of the fireplace, reading History of the Loen Kingdom's Aristocracy under the gas lamp's illumination. Fors had gone for a gathering meant for authors.

After reading for quite a while, Xio suddenly felt something strange about the hardback cover, so she carefully examined it and found an interlayer where an ancient piece of paper was hidden inside.

The front side of the paper was covered with the special symbols created by Emperor Roselle, and on the back was a paragraph written in ancient Hermes.

"Viscount Glaint's ancestors deciphered some of Emperor Roselle's special symbols?" Xio was suddenly excited.

She struggled to decipher the ancient Hermes as she muttered silently

"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era.

"The mysterious ruler above the gray fog.

"The King of Yellow and Black who wields good luck."

-x-X-x-

Cherwood Borough. 15 Minsk Street.

A satiated Klein sat in a reclining chair in the living room, beside a fireplace burning with charcoal.

In a warm environment akin to summer, Klein wore a white shirt, a black vest, and thin trousers, while having a newspaper spread open in front of him as he flipped through the section with the most ads.

A new type of transportation vehicle is in urgent need for investments. Details to be discussed in person... Klein read the advertisement twice before picking up a pencil from a small, dark red table to his side and circled the message.

If there were no commissions tomorrow or the day after, he planned on seeing if this so-called new type of transportation vehicle had any investment value—such matters were impossible to divine since there was a lack of sufficient information.

I hope it's a product similar to a bicycle... Klein mumbled to himself before suddenly hearing an illusory prayer echo in his ears.

Who is it? Miss Justice? Mr. Hanged Man? The Sun? Or some clerk at the Backlund Bank is copying my passcode? Thoughts flashed through Klein's mind as he put down the newspaper, returned to his bedroom, and locked the door behind him.

Taking four steps counterclockwise, he entered the world above the gray fog. He saw that to the side of The Fool's seat and by the edge of the ancient mottled bronze table was a clear and bright brilliance that emitted waves of radiance.

The experienced Klein calmly sat down and emanated his spirituality, touching the light ripples of light in response to the prayer.

The scene in front of his eyes suddenly changed. It was a blurry sofa with a petite woman in a knight's trainee uniform curled up on it.

She's not copying my passcode... She's reading a piece of paper... Klein suddenly realized the reason for this.

She should be one of the two Beyonders that Miss Justice mentioned that requires my vetting...

After nearly twenty seconds of silence, Klein didn't give any form of formal response. He planned on taking the next step deep at night. He would then test her reaction, attitude, and way of handling things to test her personality and abilities.

Of course, he would absolutely not force others to join the Tarot Club.

...

"The Fool that doesn't belong to this era..." Xio, who had just finished chanting the ancient Hermes sentence, froze for a few seconds. Then, she suddenly straightened her back and sat up straight.

This seems to be the honorary name of a hidden existence! She realized this in horror.

Furthermore, her knowledge in mysticism and the various rumors she had heard told her that once someone recited the full honorary name of a hidden existence, it would often attract the attention of said existence!

The consequences of such attention was mostly misfortune or could even be described as tragic!

Quite a few of those hidden beings were the incarnations of the evil gods and devils!

Furthermore, I recited it in ancient Hermes, completely unprotected... I'm so dumb. Why did I focus so much effort in identifying the sentence and actually read it in my head... Xio looked around in horror, terrified that an indescribable monster would suddenly appear in her house.

The sofa, tea table, cupboard, dining table, chairs, oil painting, and other items were all reflected in her eyes, without any changes.

After nearly a minute of heightened vigilance, Xio relaxed a little and comforted herself, "Don't worry, don't be afraid. I just said the honorable name and didn't follow up with a prayer.

"This is an incomplete ceremony, so it shouldn't attract any attention.

"Moreover, there's a good chance that the name might've been translated by the owner of the paper based on the special symbols left behind by Emperor Roselle. It might not be correct."

But, but I heard that if the evil gods and devils generate interest, they would still provide a response even if the ceremony is incomplete... I'm so stupid, really... As she thought over the matter, Xio's face scrunched up into a grimace. She felt that she had made a grave mistake.

After waiting for a few more minutes, she slowly exhaled as she puffed out her cheeks when she realized that there was no obvious response.

She stuffed the piece of paper back into the "History of the Loen Kingdom's Aristocracy" as she entered the bathroom with a heavy heart. She turned on the faucet and tried to use the cold water to clear her head.

Splash!

As nearly transparent water flowed down, Xio hunched her back and reached out her palms to cup some water.

Just as she was about to dab the cold water onto her face, she spotted a long, slightly curly brown hair in the mirror through the corner of her eye.

As for her, she had shoulder-length, unkempt yellow hair.

Suddenly, Xio's hair stood on end.

She stomped on the ground and, with a push of her hands, she shot backwards, turning her body halfway around and slamming the entity with her elbow.

Pow!

She leaned against a warm body, causing the other party to let out a familiar scream before falling to the ground.

Xio stopped any subsequent actions and looked at her good friend who was hugging her stomach in pain, tears in her eyes.

The corner of her mouth twitched without her realizing it as she said, "Fors, when did you get back?"

Fors didn't reply immediately. It took her quite a while to get over the pain. As she slowly stood up, using the wall as a support, she grumbled, "I j-just got back. Xio, are you nuts!? Why did you attack me without even looking clearly! And you hit me so hard!"

"Where did you come in from?" Xio asked awkwardly.

"Through the bathroom window. Why? Is there a problem? As an Apprentice, it's normal to not bring a key with me," Fors replied matter-of-factly.

Xio straightened her back and pushed away all responsibility.

"Then why didn't you go through the door? You really gave me a fright just now!"

Fors blinked her eyes and said, "If that's the case, I'll have to make one big round. That's too troublesome; I'm used to walking in a straight line."

She paused as she asked suspiciously, "However, wasn't your reaction a bit too much?"

Xio struggled for three seconds, choosing between losing her dignity or losing her life, before answering honestly, "It-it's because I made a mistake, a fatal mistake."

"What mistake?" Fors asked, rubbing her belly as she felt puzzled and concerned.

Xio hurriedly recounted the whole story of how she had discovered the interlayer in the book's cover and found an old piece of paper in it. Then, she had accidentally recited the suspected incantation in ancient Hermes silently. What she had recited seemed to contain the honorable name of some hidden existence.

"You... Where's your brain? It-it should be fine. The ceremony wasn't complete, and who knows if it's real or fake..." Fors looked around, and for some baffling reason, she felt a chill.

She followed Xio back to the living room and saw the yellowed sheet of paper, as well as Roselle's special symbols, and the sentence that was written in ancient Hermes.

After a quick glance, Fors, the professional researcher in mysticism, nodded and said, "It's not any of the evil gods, devils, and secret existences that I know of. It should be fine.

"Furthermore, nothing has happened up till now. That means that everything should be fine."

Seeing Xio relax, she thought of the pain in her stomach, so she deliberately added maliciously, "Of course, if something were to really happen, there's no way we can rescue ourselves with our meager abilities."

Xio's face paled as she blurted out, "Fors, let's sleep together tonight. Forget it, I'll just sleep on my own..."

Fors pricked up her brows and chuckled, "Alright. In fact, you don't have to worry about it. Think about it, I hear strange murmurs whenever there's a full moon, but I don't see any signs me going mad or losing control.

"Well... We should study the other three books. If there's the same piece of paper and the same incantation, it means that it's very likely to be a prank from Viscount Glaint."

The duo hurriedly flipped through "Study of the Coat of Arms" and the other books and checked them carefully, but they didn't find anything else out of the ordinary.

Xio looked at Fors, who looked back at her, turning the mood somber again.

"Should we sneak into Saint Samuel Cathedral's nave tonight?" Xio came up with an inspired suggestion.

That was the headquarters of the Church of the Evernight Goddess in the Backlund diocese.

"Why not Saint Hierländ Cathedral? I don't think the Evernight Goddess will protect me..." Fors subconsciously replied.

That was the headquarters of the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery, which was located in the St. George Borough, adjacent to many huge factories in the southeast.

The two ladies with different faiths fell silent again, and after a while, Fors sighed and said, "And that would make us end up being targeted by the Nighthawks or the Machinery Hivemind. That might be the goal of that hidden existence.

"Alright, go to sleep. We'll know the answer tomorrow morning. If nothing happens by then, it means that it'll really be okay."

...

In the middle of the night, the waxing crimson moon was obscured by clouds, and the stars were barely visible in the sky above Backlund.

Klein instinctively woke up, lifted his blanket, got off the bed, and entered the world above the gray fog.

He sat down on the high back chair that belonged to The Fool. He planned on responding to Miss Justice's companion and proceed with the 'examination process.'

At that moment, he suddenly had a new idea.

Perhaps he could try and see if he could pull her into the world above the gray fog under the present circumstances!

The young lady must have fallen asleep, and even if I succeed, she would probably treat it as a dream that appears clearer than usual... Hmm... If I succeed, I can sever the connection in a timely manner to prevent her from seeing her surroundings clearly...

After repeatedly deliberating over the matter, Klein stretched out his hand and tapped at the rippling ring of light to form a connection with it.

Suddenly, Klein felt his spirituality surge out in an unstoppable manner, causing the mysterious space above the gray fog to tremble slightly.

Just when Klein thought that his spirituality would be completely drained, everything calmed down. A blurry, distorted figure appeared at the edge of the long bronze table.

In her reverie, Xio opened her eyes sleepily and saw the endless fog, the ancient high back chair, and a dark figure watching her.

Klein was overjoyed and immediately severed the connection according to his plan.

The hazy, petite figure disappeared, but within the grayish-white mist, a crimson, illusory star appeared.

Klein looked at this scene and confirmed one thing. As long as someone chanted his name, he would be able to pull that person into the world above the gray fog. The crimson star was a symbol of a stable connection.

However, there are certain limitations. With my current strength, at most, I can establish another connection... Hmm... Based on my previous experiences, my current spirituality can only pull in Beyonders who are a Sequence higher than me, and it won't necessarily be a success. It's just a preliminary judgment, so it shouldn't be a problem if it's someone at the same Sequence as me or lower... Klein thought, feeling satisfied.

There was no need for him to respond. His attempt was already enough.

...

Xio sat up in her sleep.

She had been worrying about the potential dangers of chanting an honorary name the entire time. Not long after she fell asleep, she dreamed of a mysterious space, and a gray foggy figure looking down on her from above.

The dream was so clear, so clear that Xio felt afraid.

She looked at the sleeping Fors beside her and thought with a tremble, Is it a nightmare caused by fear, or is it because of the attention I garnered from some hidden existence, resulting in being haunted by evil spirits?

Yes... There's going to be a gathering of Beyonders tomorrow night. In addition to buying the formula, I need to find a person who is good at exorcising evil spirits to purify myself.

-x-X-x-

Sitting at his own dining table on a foggy morning, Klein broke up his specially bought wheat bread and soaked it in milk, improving the way he ate it.

Although his body had changed a long time ago, his pursuit and obsession with delicacies were engraved into his soul. He was completely unable to adapt to the Loen Kingdom's monotonous and repetitive style of breakfast. He could only try his best at experimenting. He tried not to limit himself to toast, bread, bacon, sausages, and butter. He tried hard to expand the boundaries and improve the way he ate. For example, his recipes had new additions such as pork-filled pastries from the south, Feynapotter noodles, and roasted corn pastries.

"Caviar from the Feysac Empire isn't bad either, but it's too expensive. It's only suitable for formal meals..." Klein scooped up a small piece of wheat bread he had softened and put it in his mouth. Just by chewing it a little, he could feel the intertwining flavors of milk with the fragrance of wheat. The aftertaste of the bread was even sweeter.

After breakfast, Klein put down his cutlery, but he was in no hurry to tidy up the table. He picked up the newspapers, and began to read.

I'll do a divination in a while. If there's nothing else to do, I'll pay Mr. Leppard a visit at St. George Borough's Sird Street and see if his new transportation vehicle is worth investing in... Backlund is really big. Every borough is almost the size of Tingen City. The East Borough is especially ridiculous. It's at least twice as large... The easiest and most economical way to travel is to walk, followed by the steam metro, before walking again. It's just quite a waste of time... Klein's mind wandered aimlessly.

Backlund's public horse carriage system was rather similar to Tingen's. The price was about the same, but the only problem was that most of them were confined to a single borough. If one wanted to go from Cherwood to St. George, a few transfers were needed and that would naturally raise the price.

Such a situation made the prospects for a new transportation vehicle very alluring.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

At that moment, knocks on the door sounded. It was as loud as the pounding of a hammer.

Who is it... Don't they know how to ring the doorbell... He muttered a few words, straightened his collar, walked to the door, and pulled it open.

In front of him was a familiar face. It was the highlander man who had chased Ian at the steam metro. His skin was dark, his eye sockets recessed, and he was lean and hardy man.

According to Klein's mediumship results, the man's name was Meursault, an "executioner" of the Zmanger gang who was almost equal to the boss.

"Excuse me, who are you looking for? Do you have a commission to entrust with me?" Klein deliberately acted somewhat confused.

Meursault was wearing a black coat and a pompous silk hat, but he didn't look anything like a gentleman at all.

He coldly sized Klein up, then he asked in Loen, with a thick highlander accent, "Are you Detective Sherlock Moriarty?"

"Yes," Klein replied short and sweet.

Meursault nodded his head stiffly.

"I want to hire you to find someone."

"We can talk about the exact situation inside." Klein prevented himself from acting odd in any way.

Meursault shook his head coldly.

"There's no need."

After saying that, his eyes suddenly became sharp.

"The person I'm looking for is called Ian. Ian Wright. He has a pair of bright red eyes, maybe fifteen or sixteen. He likes to wear a brown, old coat and a round hat of the same color. I believe you know him." @@novelbin@@

Klein let out a soft chuckle.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Meursault seemed to ignore Klein's denial. "He's a thief who has stolen an important item from me. If you can find him, you'll be paid at least 10 pounds."

"You've provided too few clues." Klein made up an excuse.

"30 pounds." Meursault made a new offer.

Klein glanced at him and said, "No, this is against my principle of confidentiality."

"50 pounds," Meursault replied coldly.

"... I'm sorry, I cannot accept the mission." Klein was startled for two seconds, but in the end, he still chose to reject the request.

Meursault studied him slowly for a few seconds as his eyes slowly turned cold and fierce.

He didn't offer a new price, nor did he politely bid farewell. He turned around abruptly and walked quickly to the end of the street.

This gang has pretty good intelligence... They actually know that Ian had come to me once... Klein secretly sighed, full of emotion, but he didn't feel too much anxiety or fear.

After all, I'm someone who once directly faced the son of an evil god, although, it was separated by a belly... As he thought about it, his smile suddenly became brilliant. He began flipping a coin to decide whether or not he was going out today.

The answer was positive.

...

St. George Borough, Sird Street.

Having transferred from a tracked public carriage to the steam metro, before transferring to a trackless carriage, Klein finally arrived at his destination, spending a total of 11 pence.

Just after he alighted the carriage, he discovered that a drizzle had already started, but he hadn't brought an umbrella.

According to the newspapers and magazines, this is a daily occurrence in Backlund. The reason why hats are popular is that ladies and gentlemen don't carry umbrellas all the time. Klein pressed down on his half top hat and briskly ran outside Unit 9 and used the eaves to shield himself from the rain.

He brushed off the obvious water droplets from his body and rang the doorbell.

However, he didn't hear any cuckoo sounds or tinkling sounds.

Is the doorbell broken? Klein was just about to raise his hand to knock when he suddenly saw footsteps approaching from afar.

The image of the person naturally appeared in his mind. It was a tall, thin man with black hair and blue eyes. He was in his thirties and was dressed in grayish-blue worker attire, but he appeared gentle and refined.

Creak. The door opened. The gentleman rubbed his forehead and asked, "May I know who you are looking for? Is there something?"

Klein took off his hat and bowed slightly.

"I'm here to find Mr. Leppard. I'm interested in his new transportation vehicle."

The gentleman's eyes suddenly lit up.

"I'm Leppard. Come in, please."

He turned to the side and allowed Klein entry. However, there was no coat rack in the foyer.

Klein could only lean his cane and not take off his coat. He followed Leppard into the living room.

It had to be said that the gentleman's house was very messy. On the coffee table in the living room alone were many mechanical objects, such as wrenches, bearings and screwdrivers.

"How much do you wish to invest? Ah, right. Would you like some coffee or black tea? Uh... it seems I'm out of black tea..." Leppard blurted out.

This gentleman is a bit straightforward, and doesn't seem to be very good at interpersonal relationships... A thought flashed through Klein's mind, and he changed the words he planned on saying. He went straight to the point, "I've to see your new transportation vehicle before I make a decision.

"I can't make any promises without understanding anything."

As he spoke, he looked around and saw a triangular Sacred Emblem hanging on the wall.

That was the symbol of the God of Steam and Machinery. The solid triangle was filled with symbols such as steam, gears, and levers.

Leppard wasn't irritated by Klein's straightforwardness. He immediately said, "I'll show you."

As soon as he said that, he slapped his head. "I almost forgot, we have to sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure that you don't steal my invention."

Mr. Leppard, you don't have a very good memory either... Klein smiled and said, "That wouldn't be an issue."

After signing the simple contract, Leppard led Klein into a room that seemed like an activity room. He had knocked through the neighboring guest room and basement, making it much wider and spacious.

The ground was littered with components, and a rough object, that was half the height of a man, that resembled a carriage stood in the center.

In addition to that, the line of the doorbell was connected there and was cleverly constructed. As long as someone pulled the rope, a steel ball would pop out from the mechanism, allowing it to roll along a special track before colliding with the object in the center to produce a clanging sound.

The sound certainly wasn't too loud, but it was enough to rouse Leppard who was engrossed in machinery.

"Is that the new form of transportation you invented?" Klein pointed to the crude object in the middle of the room.

"Yes, I invented it based on Emperor Roselle's imagination!" He replied with a fervent look in his eyes.

"Emperor Roselle's imagination?" Klein asked in surprise.

Leppard explained in a tone of adoration, "Emperor Roselle left behind a number of manuscripts in which he drew his vision of the machines of the future. He was an outstanding genius, no—a master! Many things have already been turned into reality! "Heh heh, this manuscript is kept in the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery. There's no way for non pious believers to borrow them."

... Emperor, are you still leaving no stones unturned for others...

Klein's mouth twitched, almost unable to maintain his smile.

"Describe it in detail." He changed the subject.

Leppard led Klein to the crude metallic object and opened the door.

"This is a transportation tool that doesn't need a horse.

"The driver sits in the front left seat, continuously stepping on the pedals. Through the levers and a chain connects to the four wheels, allowing the vehicle to roll forward. And on the wheels, I used inflated rubber which can make the journey smooth."

So it's a human-powered car? Klein couldn't help but lampoon.

He said with some deliberation, "With such a huge carriage, and at least four passengers, it would be impossible to travel that far just by relying on human strength alone."

"That's exactly my next goal—to reduce the weight and expand the lever a few times! However, my financial situation isn't at its best. I can't fund any more attempts." Leppard looked hopefully at Klein.

"Why not consider other methods? Such as using steam as the driving force?" Klein slowly organized his words.

Leppard shook his head. "There have been people who have invented that, but it has a very huge body, making it difficult to drive it along many streets."

That was exactly what Klein was waiting for.

"Then, why don't you just do something simpler? For example, have only two wheels with only one person without an outer shell."

"You mean something like a bicycle?" Leppard asked in thought.

Roselle's manuscript has that? Klein nodded heavily.

"Yes."

"Those bicycles which other people have invented aren't very practical... Simplifying this... seems like it might work. It will really seem different. But, who would buy it?" Leppard said to himself.

Klein didn't hesitate to provide him with a direction.

"The postman, the working class who have a bit of savings, the businessmen who doesn't need to look respectable while hoping to save money... There are many of them in Backlund."

Leppard thought for a moment, then nodded slightly.

"... I can try, but I don't have the money for spare parts..."

"I'll invest 100 gold pounds. In addition to my suggestion just now, I'll take a total of..." Klein hesitated to say ten percent of the shares. Fifteen percent was better. After all, a hundred pounds was, strictly speaking, not much.

"You can have 35% of the shares! But that's only limited to the bicycle concept you described!" Leppard spoke out first, afraid that Klein would make an unreasonable request.

"Deal!" Klein immediately laughed. "We'll first draw up a simple contract and settle this matter. Afterwards, I'll find a lawyer to make a formal contract and add some detailed terms. For example, if there's anyone else who wants to invest, they must first get my consent."

"No problem," Leppard replied impatiently. All he wanted was to buy his spare parts as soon as possible.

...

In the gloominess brought about by the drizzle, Klein returned to Cherwood Borough's Minsk Street.

He entered the house and went straight to the bathroom on the first floor and resolved the problem of his bloated stomach.

Splash.

As the water echoed, Klein bent down to wash his hands.

At that moment, an image appeared in his mind.

The mirror in front of the sink reflected his lowered head, dim surroundings, and a pair of eyes to his side.

A pair of eyes!

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