42 LOTM

In a corner of East Borough.

A drunken Zeon faced the wall, pulled off his pants, and began watering the moss in comfort.

When he was done, someone suddenly patted his shoulder.

Zeon couldn't help but shiver a few times. He picked up his pants and half turned to see a short boy in a canvas jacket and cap.

The "boy" raised his head, revealing a mild and delicate face despite looking dirty.

"Xio?Why are you dressed like that?" Zeon blurted out in surprise.

Xio put her index finger to her lips to indicate the need for silence.

Then, she suppressed her voice and said, "I'll ask and you answer. Keep your voice down."

Astonished by her awe-inspiring presence, Zeon could only nod.

"Which of the guys, that Williams knew, have died within the past two days?" Xio asked in a low voice.

Zeon used his alcohol-paralyzed brain to carefully think for a while and said, "Gavin! Gavin was found to have drowned in the Tussock River this morning!

"He probably fell into the river last night. The poor sod doesn't know how to swim and likes to enjoy the wind by the river when he's drunk."

Xio's gaze suddenly became sharp. Without any hesitation, she asked, "Did Gavin accept Williams's request to look for the wanted criminal, Lanevus?"

"Of course, we all got this commission from Williams. Anyway, it's not like it's a big deal. All we have to do is show the portrait to everyone we know and keep an eye out for someone who looks like him. Oh, Williams, he said that if there's a clue, he'll treat me to three days of booze and meat! The poor fellow actually died in a gas explosion. That's why I refuse to have my landlord install a gas pipe! Uh... That was months ago. I can only afford a cheap motel now," Gene droned on.

"What region is Gavin in charge of? Did he mention anything to you?" Xio looked sideways, pursed her lips, and stared straight at Zeon.

"H-he usually goes to the dock area near the East Balam Dock. He even met me yesterday evening and said that he went to the Workers Alliance Tavern there to spread the news of his search for Lanevus, and he also showed the portrait of Lanevus to everyone present." Gene hiccuped.

There were many docks in Backlund, most of which were considered as the dock area and designated as "shipyards."

"And after that? Did Gavin say what he was going to do?" Xio asked again, frowning doubtfully.

"Of course, drinking! He planned to have a good drink and then find a place to sleep! Oh, the poor sod must've felt hot from drinking and wanted to take a bath in the river, but he forgot he couldn't swim, and it's almost winter!" Zeon sighed again.

This... Gavin didn't discover anything. He had gone to the Workers Alliance Tavern in East Balam Dock and distributed "leaflets" to search for Lanevus, but ended up meeting his demise. It even implicated Williams... The murderer's reaction can no longer be described as extreme anymore. He's simply a lunatic...

If I were Lanevus, the easiest option would be to immediately move somewhere else and avoid being found. Unless—unless he's embroiled in something and cannot leave anytime soon... But I wasn't the only one looking for him. There are also many bounty hunters. He may kill Williams, but can he kill that many people? If he had the ability, he would kill off everyone who spread wanted posters in Sivellaus Yard!

Xio was completely befuddled by the entire matter, just like how she found Williams's death was impossible.

In the end, she decided to report the problem to Miss Audrey first, and then head to the Workers Alliance Tavern in East Balam in disguise. She wouldn't make any inquiries and only observe to see if there was anyone suspicious.

...

Cherwood Borough. Rice Police Station.

Once again, Klein found himself huddled on a backrest-equipped bench with thieves and drunkards.

How unlucky... To think that I would run into the police and fail to take a detour in time. It's all because of that damn serial killer! As Klein cursed that particular person, he thought about how to hide his charms and the herbal powder he couldn't explain away and dodge the body search that followed.

He had tried to put them in his black gloves, then find a chance to slip them into a hidden spot in the police station, only to retrieve them when he left.

Just then, his eyes lit up and he saw the young lawyer, Jurgen Cooper, with his hair neatly combed back. He was dressed like he was attending a banquet. Just as Cooper came over, he was accompanied by a police constable.

"You can leave after signing your name," Jurgen said with his usual serious expression.

"Is that all?" Klein asked in surprise.

Jurgen nodded slightly.

"Yes, they know you're a well-known detective."

What kind of reason is this? Klein didn't dare to ask further. He immediately got up and followed after Jurgen who was wearing a long black tweed coat. He signed his name at a leisurely pace before leaving.

The weather was different from the last time he was led out from the police station by Jurgen. There was no rain and only thick clouds obscuring the crimson moon and stars. The streets were illuminated by gas lamps that lined both sides of the streets.

"Thank you so much! I've troubled you once again!" Klein briskly walked forward and came to Jurgen's side.

Jurgen turned his head to look at him and said to him without a smile, "There's no need to thank me. This is my job.

"Two pounds."

"..." Klein sized him up seriously and revealed a smile. "Okay."

His wallet was bulging recently, and he produced two one-pound notes at once.

Without a trace of politeness, Jurgen received the payment and said, "If you're willing to enter into a formal partnership, then every time you come to the police station, I'll only charge you a pound. Of course, not for the cases that are serious. You have to understand that a large portion of the fees I charge will go to the office."

It's as if I would frequently be invited to the police station for some coffee in the future... Pui, they don't even give coffee. There's isn't even a cup of water! Before Klein could answer, he heard Jurgen add.

"For a private detective, getting in and out of the police station is something that happens every once in a while. It's an occupational hazard.

"Well, I know very well that every private detective has a problem with the illegal bearing of arms and the illegal trespassing in other people's homes."

"Your response this time was very good. The police couldn't find enough evidence to prove that you were bearing a gun illegally, and the explanation for the gunpowder reaction on your body was quite sufficient. The name Quelaag Club was enough to convince them; otherwise, you most likely would've had to go to the magistrate's court.

"So, you're not a suspect, but a good citizen. A good citizen who picked up a gun and handed it in, so there was no need for a body search."

Alright... But I lost a revolver and the corresponding bullets. That's several pounds, and there's also the lawyer's fee. Klein squeezed out a smile.

"I understand. Lawyer Jurgen, let's establish a formal partnership."

The corner of Jurgen's mouth twitched. With an extremely professional smile, he extended his hand and said, "I hope for a pleasant partnership.

"I sincerely hope that I don't have to see you too often at the police station."

That's not something that's up to me to decide... Klein gave a self-deprecating laugh.

...

Back at 15 Minsk Street, Klein eased himself with a hot bath.

But at that moment, he once again heard illusory prayers coming from a woman.

Miss Justice? Is there a clue regarding Lanevus? Klein suddenly jumped out of the bathtub, quickly dried his body, put on his clothes, and went above the gray fog.

Staring at the constantly expanding and shrinking crimson star, he extended his spirituality and chose to listen.

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

"Honorable Mr. Fool, there's been a problem with the investigation of Lanevus..."

Justice, who was wearing a white gown for an unknown reason, recounted the explosion that happened on Dharavi Street in East Borough, as well as Gavin's drowning.

As a Telepathist, who had already gained some mastery, she didn't add her own guesses, lest it affect the judgment of Mr. Fool.

After listening carefully, Klein frowned, feeling that the killer's reaction was unimaginably extreme.

Unlike Rear Admiral Hurricane Qilangos, Lanevus, as a swindler, would immediately move if he discovered anything was amiss. That should be his professional instinct. There's no reason to follow the clues in reverse and kill those who are seeking him.

According to this standard, 80% of East Borough's bounty hunters would die. This would cause a sensation and cause the case to be taken over by the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, or Machinery Hivemind!

Hmm... Has the benefits Lanevus gained, from the ritual of praying to the True Creator to send his son down, left him mad? This is very consistent with the style of the True Creator... However, the problem lies with the fact that it would be difficult for a lunatic to hide himself... Apart from the potential... Klein fell into deep thought and was in no hurry to respond to Miss Justice.

He had read the newspapers and known about the explosion, so he used dream divination to recall the details.

Then he wrote a new divination statement:

"Clues to the explosion in Dharavi Street."

As he recited it silently, he leaned back in his chair and entered a dream. He saw a three-story, grayish-blue apartment.

On the third floor of the apartment, a room had lost its windows and half the wall had been destroyed. It was filled with signs of an explosion.

The scene quickly shattered. Klein woke up from his reverie as he tapped the edge of the table and thought to himself.

The clues are at the scene of the crime?

... This revelation can also mean that the murderer is still watching the crime scene and wants to finish off the person who comes to investigate the matter.

Yes... This will give him a chance to find the person who recently issued the bounty for Lanevus.

I'll visit the crime scene in disguise and see if I can find the killer. Even if he isn't Lanevus, he must surely be connected to Lanevus.

But he must've hidden himself very well. How can I find him without attracting his attention?

A thought flashed as Klein's eyes was cast onto the All-Black Eye on the long bronze table. This was a Beyonder characteristic left behind by the Nimblewright Master Rosago.

In the real world, I can't use this item to manipulate those strange threads because of the residual mental corruption from the True Creator. There will be irreversible harm after interacting with it for a certain amount of time. However, if it was used temporarily, I can use the threads to find a hidden person. That's something acceptable. It's just like how I used it to determine if Miss Bodyguard had left previously... Klein narrowed his eyes, removed his spirit pendulum, and divined if his trip would be dangerous.

The answer was positive, but the amplitude and frequency of the spinning weren't excessive.

That's acceptable... Klein was silent for a few seconds before returning to the real world.

Then, by summoning himself, he placed the All-Black Eye into an iron cigarette case and brought it back to his bedroom.

After changing his clothes, sticking his beard on, and getting ready, Klein came before the mirror and examined himself.

The faint scholarly vibe that he had was completely concealed by the beard on his face, and his brown eyes seemed to be like an ancient pool which hid and sealed something within.

Compared to when he was in Tingen City, Klein almost didn't recognize himself.

One by one, he stretched out his fingers and clenched them into a fist. Looking at the mirror, he said in a low and hoarse voice, "Captain, this is the first step to avenging both you and me."

Before he finished his sentence, he saw himself grinning in the mirror, a brilliant smile on his face.

-x-X-x-

In the suburbs west of North Borough, in a soon-to-be-abandoned three-story house.

It originally belonged to the Backlund Medical School, but the latter's main campus had now moved to a better and more suitable location, leaving behind only a small number of teaching staff and students who were left "guarding" the area after failing to graduate.

Audrey was wearing a white gown and white mask. Her smooth blonde hair was also coiled up and stuffed under a cool-colored surgical cap.

She darted her eyes to the side and looked at Fors Wall who was dressed in the same way. She always felt that Fors had a special temperament that seemed to make her more suited to such attires than herself.

Eh... It's the kind of temperament that allows her to pick up a scalpel and cut open a patient's stomach at any moment... Audrey didn't say anything. She followed half a step behind Fors as they entered the classroom in front of them.

She was startled by the information she had received from Fors because Mr. Fool had said it was a simple task.

Considering that the simplicity of said task might be from Mr. Fool's point of view, Audrey took advantage of the moment when she was alone, changing into a disguise, to recite his honorable name and silently pray, so as to report everything that had exactly happened.

However, she had yet to receive a response.

After passing through the door and entering a room, Audrey instinctively looked around and found that this wasn't an ordinary classroom. There were actually four skeletal specimens and four coffins made of glass. The coffins were filled with pale naked corpses that were soaked in preserving agents.

At the very top of the classroom, there was a transparent glass pillar that was also filled with a liquid. Floating inside was a male corpse that wore a black scholarly robe.

The corpse's clothes stuck tightly to its body, giving off an extremely heavy feeling. He didn't relax and simply floated upright in the middle.

It's as if he had died by drowning instead of being placed in there after his death...Audrey made a preliminary judgment based on her attitude as a Spectator.

In addition, she saw a number of men in white coats, white masks, and surgical caps sitting around the long tables in the room. None of them said a word, just like the bodies and bones around them.

Looking out at the crimson moon which had finally peeked out of the gloomy darkness, Audrey turned her head back to look at the scene inside the classroom. For a moment, she couldn't help but shudder as this place instilled an instinctive fear.

But at the same time, she felt excited and agitated.

This is what the life of a Beyonder should be... Audrey silently muttered to herself as she followed Fors to a corner before sitting down.

After waiting for a while, the floating black-clothed male corpse inside the upright glass pillar at the front of the classroom suddenly opened his eyes. His voice transmitted through the layers of obstructions.

"Let's begin."

...

East Borough, Dharavi Street.

In his dusty grayish-blue worker uniform and cap, he walked along the dark streets that only had a few gas lamps that were still working.

There was candlelight shining down from the various apartments on both sides of the street. This was combined with the crimson moonlight that passed through the clouds with great difficulty, and they barely outlined the silhouettes of the pedestrians.

Klein encountered people with old, tattered clothes, their faces numb with despair. They were the homeless who had been chased away by the police.

They had no place to sleep, so they wandered aimlessly through the streets. Occasionally, they would find some inconspicuous corner or park bench to rest at for a while, but they were soon chased away again.

In the cold and dark night, Klein felt that they were more like zombies than the zombies he had seen, and the entire East Borough was more like an abyss than the legendary abyss.

He hurriedly took a quick breath which hurt his throat, causing him to cough involuntarily. He quickly gathered his thoughts and looked through the corner of his eyes at the apartment on the corner of the street. It had obviously suffered from an explosion and hadn't been repaired yet.

The best place to monitor the crime scene is the apartment across the street. The third and fourth story and the roof all meet these requirements... Klein analyzed the situation with the knowledge he had learned as a Nighthawk.

Throughout the whole process, he didn't slow down his pace to avoid arousing suspicion.

At the end of the street, Klein smoothly crossed the apartment building numbered 1 and entered the building across the street from the crime scene.

The one-bedroom apartment he had rented in East Borough was similar to this apartment, and he had also lived in an apartment of slightly higher class with his brother Benson and sister Melissa in Tingen City for quite a long time. It was Klein's personal experience, but it also came from the memory fragments of the original Klein.

As his thoughts raced, Klein lowered his cap, lowered his head, and without rushing, he walked up the creaking stairs to the third floor.

Due to his unlucky encounter in the evening, he no longer had a revolver, so all he could do was stick one hand into his pocket and hold a few tarot cards in between his fingers.

There was no light other than the faint moonlight in the corridor of the third floor. Klein was in no hurry to move forward, so he carefully observed the layout.

The spot directly across the crime scene is on the left. The one with the best view for surveillance should be the third room from here... Klein began to walk slowly and carefully.

After walking past two rooms, he also inserted his right hand into his pocket and gently opened the iron cigarette case.

After a split-second, his fingers touched the All-Black Eye, and the murmurs resounded in his ears as they attempted to tear his mind apart.

At the same time, with the help of this corrupted item, Klein saw many strange black lines.

These thin lines floated in the air, and although they were intertwined and entangled a little, he could still distinguish who they belonged to if he traced them back to the source.

The corresponding figures were reflected in Klein's soon-to-be-cooked brain. There were men, women, and children sleeping in the bunk beds, and several tenants lying in bed on the floor.

Other than that, there were no other special spots, nor were there any hidden figures.

The illusion in front of him and the auditory hallucination in his ears slowly improved as Klein quickly retracted his hand from the All-Black Eye.

He endured the pain as he continued to move forward. Once he felt some relief, he would immediately observe the other room.

Unfortunately, his efforts of "searching" the entire apartment to see if there were any places that allowed the observation of the crime scene was in vain.

Phew. Phew... Klein cowered in a corner of a balcony, his hands were on his knees as he panted heavily.

Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes, and from time to time, his nose would run as if he had fallen sick.

This was the result of his repeated contact with the All-Black Eye within a short period of time. Even with Klein's resistance in this area, he wasn't completely immune to it.

The only thing that satisfied him was that it only agitated him and didn't corrupt him. Otherwise, he would've given up long ago and wouldn't have dared to try again. That would've led directly to devolving into madness.

After resting for a while, Klein finally calmed down and switched to a different apartment that didn't have the same view as this one, but it was still for naught.

Did I interpret it wrong? The clues are at the scene of the crime? When Klein returned to the street, he looked suspiciously out of the corner of his eye at the apartment with traces of an explosion.

With the mindset of just giving it a try, he put his hand back into his pocket, pushed the metal cigarette case open, and stuck his hand inside.

He wanted to see if anyone was hiding in the apartment where the crime scene was located.

With a hum, Klein's head suddenly felt like it was being smashed as his body wobbled a little.

Like a drunkard, he staggered forward and looked at the apartment which had signs of an explosion.

As he was too far away, he couldn't "clearly see" the black lines, nor could he trace the source of the black lines. He could only barely distinguish where the black lines had gathered, and this indicated that there was someone present.

No, no, no...

Klein quickly swept the area and made a rough judgment.

Suddenly, he noticed a black line floating out from the crime scene on the third floor which merged into the air!

This... Klein's pupils shrank, and he made a confirmation before quickly withdrawing his hands so as to stop being in contact with the All-Black Eye.

There's someone in the destroyed room!

That murderer is actually crazy enough to wait for investigators to come to the crime scene?

Isn't he afraid that official Beyonders will take over the case?

I made a wrong judgment and failed to find him because I shared a different sense of logic from that of a lunatic...

Many thoughts flashed through Klein's mind as he slowly exhaled and pretended that nothing had happened whilst he walked in a circle until he reached the entrance of the apartment building.

By then, all the negative effects he had suffered from the All-Black Eye had been quelled.

Controlling his facial expression and body language, Klein headed up to the third floor as if he were going home, his footsteps quick and heavy with fatigue.

In the darkness of the corridor, he caught sight of the doorless room which had half its walls collapsed. Then, he "casually" headed for the public bathroom.

As he neared the room, his hand, which had been in his pocket, touched the All-Black Eye.

Again, the mind-wrecking murmurs and the blurred hallucinations assaulted him. Through the corners of his eyes, Klein saw a black, illusory thread spread out from the crime scene.

As he traced the source, he found a man who had completely merged into the shadows. His aura was the same color.

The man was extremely tall, almost two meters in height. The corners of his mouth drooped slightly, making him appear rather eccentric.

His cold eyes were like those of a wild beast's, possessing a ferocity that couldn't be hidden.

It's not Lanevus... Klein withdrew his fingers, relaxed his body, and avoided the likelihood of staring. He entered the public bathroom at the end of the corridor without stopping. Nor did he alarm the man.

The public bathroom and the crime scene weren't on the same side. He wiped off his cold sweat, and after quelling the negative effects, he directly jumped out the window, climbing down skillfully before leaving with brisk steps. He didn't stay a moment longer.

He knew that in a few minutes the man would be alerted to the absence of someone who had gone to the bathroom, so he had to get as far away from the street as possible.

It wasn't that Klein didn't want to walk back the way he came from, but if he didn't know which room he could go to, it would similarly expose him.

The Clown quickly ran and circled around a huge area before entering that one-bedroom apartment he had rented in East Borough. He then went above the gray fog to confirm that there was no danger of him being caught.

That fellow must have had some sort of deep connection with Lanevus... After a moment's thought, Klein conjured a portrait of the man from earlier, sending his thoughts to the crimson star that represented Miss Justice.

Soon after, he said solemnly in a tone of authority, "This is a clue."

-x-X-x-

Inside the soon-to-be abandoned medical school building, Audrey suddenly felt adrift as she took a detour to leave the gathering which had just ended. She saw the familiar thick gray fog and the blurry figure situated in the center high above.

"This is a clue."

Accompanying Mr. Fool's solemn voice were scenes that looked like a film reel, a colored one at that!

A man who wasn't particularly muscular but was nearly two meters tall in height was wearing a black priest robe and standing in the shadows. His light yellow hair was slightly curled, and his dark brown eyes were cold with malice. The corners of his mouth drooped slightly, making him look like a ferocious wolf.

A clue? A clue to the bombing on East Borough's Dharavi Street and Gavin's drowning? Is this the murderer? Audrey stared blankly for a moment before immediately coming to an understanding.

Mr. Fool already has a clue... He's really impressive — No, he's omnipotent. After sighing to herself, she turned to look at Fors.

As soon as Fors removed her mask and surgical cap and got into the carriage, she noticed Miss Audrey's slightly strange gaze. She immediately asked in puzzlement, "Is there something on my face?"

"Nope." Audrey looked away and sat down before removing her disguise.

Fors recalled the gathering and asked curiously, "Miss Audrey, why didn't you announce that you were purchasing the Spectator formula? You could've established contact with the Psychology Alchemists that way."

She remembered that the generous Miss Audrey had remained silent most of the time and only sold some spirituality-infused materials and responded to buying other varieties accordingly. @@novelbin@@

Audrey smiled faintly and said, "This is my first gathering in this circle. I think it's more important to observe and wait.

"I'm looking forward to the potion formula and even more so, the mystical items, but I told myself that there's no rush. It would be a better strategy to familiarize myself before taking action."

This is also a 'professional habit' of the Spectator pathway. Moreover, there were no Beyonder ingredients like Dark Patterned Black Panther Spinal Fluid or Spring of the Elves Marrow Crystals which Mr. World wishes to obtain...

Audrey silently added.

Looking at the girl who wasn't eighteen yet, Fors suddenly felt that she was more mature than ever before.

She suddenly laughed at herself and said, "If I had been like you back then, I wouldn't have wasted such a precious opportunity."

Audrey gave a reserved smile as a response before saying, "I'll ask some special friends in the morning if they have any leads on the Dharavi Street bombing. Wait for the information at the same place with Xio."

"Alright." Fors nodded without any doubts.

...

Instead of returning to Minsk Street, Klein slept in the one-bedroom apartment in East Borough's Black Palm Street.

He was afraid that the suspected murderer in the black priest robe had accomplices who could be searching the streets for him.

Although the probability of meeting him wasn't high, and he had disguised himself ahead of time so that it was unlikely he could be recognized, his divination indicated that there was a possibility. To be cautious, Klein made do and decided to spend the night at East Borough.

At dawn, he changed into another dark blue worker's uniform, put on a light brown cap, and left the room. He went down the stairs and into the street.

At that moment, the white fog with a yellowish tint shrouded the surroundings. There were blurry figures of people passing by, and the cold morning air was soaking into their clothes.

Klein lowered his head and hurried along, just like the people around him who had gotten up early for work.

While walking, he saw a man in his forties or fifties ahead of him. He wore a thick jacket and had gray hair around his temples. He was pacing in place and fumbling for a cigarette while shivering. Finally, he took out a box of empty matches in his clothes' inner pocket.

Just as he opened the matchbox, his right hand quivered, and the crumpled cigarette fell to the ground and rolled in front of Klein.

Klein stopped, picked it up, and handed it to him.

"Thank you, thank you! I can't live without this old friend. There's only a few left," the man thanked him sincerely and accepted the cigarette.

His face was pale, and he appeared to not have shaved for quite a while. Exhaustion was expressed without reserve from the corner of his eyes as he lamented, "I haven't slept for another night, I don't know how long I can last. I hope the Lord will bless me so that I can enter the workhouse today."

He's a homeless person who has been chased away. Klein casually asked, "Why doesn't the king and ministers allow all of you to sleep in the park?"

"Who knows? But to sleep in this kind of weather outside, it's very likely that you'll never wake up again. It's still better in the day, since you can find a warmer place. Sigh, but this will make us lack the time or strength to look for jobs." The man lit a cigarette and sucked at it delightfully.

As though he had some of his strength restored, and he walked beside Klein. It was uncertain if his destination was at the end of the fog or somewhere deep into the fog.

Klein had no intention of exchanging pleasantries and was about to speed away from him when he saw the man, who had spoken clearly, bend down and pick up a dark object from the ground.

It looked like an apple core that had been nibbled clean.

The man swallowed his saliva before stuffing the dirt-covered fruit core into his mouth. He chewed it until it was mashed up before swallowing it down with great familiarity. Nothing was left.

Looking at Klein's surprised eyes, he wiped his mouth, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled bitterly.

"I haven't eaten in almost three days."

This sentence struck Klein's heart, causing him to feel indescribably moved.

He silently sighed and said with a smile, "Sorry, I didn't introduce myself just now. I'm a reporter, and I'm currently writing about homeless people. Can I interview you? Let's go to the café up front."

The man froze for a moment before he smiled and said, "No problem, it's much warmer inside than on the streets.

"If you can stay a little bit longer after the interview and let me sleep inside for half an hour... No, fifteen minutes! That would be even better."

Klein turned agape, momentarily at a loss for words. He just silently led his "interviewee" into the budget café at the end of the street.

The tables and chairs in the coffee shop were quite greasy. Due to the walls and windows inside, there were quite a few guests. The average temperature was indeed much higher than the streets.

The man scratched his throat, concealing his Adam's apple that was squirming from the fragrance.

Klein motioned for him to sit down and went to order two large cups of tea, a plate of lamb stewed with young peas, two loaves of bread, two pieces of toast, a serving of low-quality butter, and a serving of artificial cream for a total of 17.5 pence.

"Have some food to eat. We'll have the interview after you eat your fill." Once the food was ready, Klein carried them back to their table.

"This is for me?" the man asked with anticipation and surprise.

"Except for a piece of toast and a cup of tea, the rest is yours." Klein smiled in response.

The man wiped his eyes and said with a slightly choked voice, "... Y-you truly are a kind-hearted person."

"After starving for so long, make sure not to eat too quickly," Klein warned.

"I know, I had an old buddy who died just like that." The middle-aged man worked hard at eating at a slower pace, occasionally lifting his cup of tea and gulping it down.

Klein easily finished the toast and watched quietly, waiting for the man to finish his meal.

"Phew, I haven't eaten until I was this full in three months, no—half a year. In the workhouse, the food they give is just enough." After a while, the man put down his spoon, leaving empty plates in front of him.

Pretending to be a journalist, Klein asked casually, "How did you become a vagabond?"

"It was bad luck, I was originally a worker leading quite a good life. I had a wife, two cute children, a boy and a girl, but a few years ago, an infectious disease took them away, and I also stayed in the hospital for a long period of time, losing my job, my wealth, and my family in the process. From then on, I often couldn't find a job, and I didn't have any money to rent a house or buy food. All I could do was wander on the different streets and in certain parks. This made me very weak, making it harder for me to find a job..." the man spoke with a hint of nostalgia and sadness in his numbness.

He took a sip of his tea, sighed, and spoke again.

"I can only wait for an opportunity to enter the workhouse, but as you know, every workhouse only takes in a limited number of people. With good luck, and if I queue up in time, I can spend a few days in peace, recover my strength a little, and then find a temporary job. Yea, temporary. Soon, I'll be jobless again and the previous process will be repeated. I have no idea how much longer I can last like that.

"I should've been a good worker."

Klein thought for a moment and asked, "How many cigarettes do you have left?"

"Not many left." The middle-aged man smiled bitterly. "This is the last of my assets, the only thing I have left after I was chased out by the landlord. Heh, one can't bring them into the workhouses, but I'll secretly hide them in the seams of my clothes. I'll only take one out to smoke during my worst hardships so that I can have some hope. I don't know how long I can last, but let me tell you, I was a good worker back then."

Klein wasn't a professional journalist and was momentarily at a loss on what to ask.

He turned his head to look out the window and saw faces with obvious hunger plastered across them.

Some of them were relatively sober and they belonged to the residents of East Borough. Some of them wore looks of numbness and exhaustion, nothing like that of humans. They were vagabonds.

There is no obvious gap between the two, the former can easily become the latter. For example, the gentleman in front of me... When Klein looked back, he discovered that the man had fallen asleep; his body curled up on a chair.

After a few minutes of silence, Klein went to pat the man awake and gave him a handful of copper pennies.

"This is the payment for the interview."

"Okay, okay, thank you, thank you!" The man didn't realize what was happening, and when Klein reached the door, he raised his voice and said, "I'll go to a budget motel and get a bath, get a good night's sleep, and then get a job."

...

At noon, Klein attended a party at the Sammers. There were ten guests.

There was apple juice with steak, roast chicken, fried fish, sausage, cream soup, lots of delicacies, two bottles of champagne, and a bottle of red wine.

On his way back from the bathroom, he met Mrs. Stelyn Sammer. He thanked her sincerely, "It was a sumptuous lunch. Truly delightful. Thank you for your hospitality."

"It cost a total of 4 pounds and 8 soli. The most expensive were the three bottles of wine, but they were all part of Luke's collection. He has a liquor cabinet." The pretty Mrs. Stelyn smiled in response.

Without waiting for Klein to speak, she said, "You earned ten pounds from Mary's matter alone, and if you can keep up the good fortune, you'll soon be able to have a banquet like this. For people of our class, you have to invite friends once a month and also be invited by friends."

Klein, who was already used to her mannerisms, obliged politely, "Well, I'll have to wait till my income settles at four hundred pounds a year before I can be like you."

Stelyn immediately raised her chin slightly and tried hard to make her smile faint.

"430 pounds, it must be 430 pounds."

...

Dock area, East Balam Dock, Workers Alliance Tavern.

Xio wore boots that gave her height a huge boost and stuck on a thick beard, making herself look like a short man.

She tried to recall the portrait from Miss Audrey, trying to engrave in her mind the image of the man who might have been the murderer.

If Gavin had been killed by him, the murderer probably frequents this tavern... Xio ordered a glass of rye beer and a lunch set before huddling in a corner and eating slowly. From time to time, she would look around furtively in search of her target.

After a while, the tavern's door was pushed open again, and Xio reflexively looked over.

With just one look, her pupils shrank so thin that they resembled needles as she nearly became petrified.

The patron who entered was nearly two meters tall!

-x-X-x-

Xio has been in the bounty hunter business for a very long time. Many things were done on instinct without any thought.

When she saw the patron who entered was nearly two meters tall, she instinctively lowered her head and continued to eat her pork sausage and french fries as if nothing had happened.

Although the food entered her mouth, Xio didn't taste it at all. She endured dozens of painful seconds before she slowly raised her head and pretended to look around casually.

Soon, she saw that the patron who had just entered was sitting in front of the bar counter, waiting for his booze and lunch.

Soft, curly pale yellow hair, dark brown beast-like eyes, a slightly drooping mouth, an aura of solitude and malevolence... Little by little, the details came into Xio's eyes, overlapping with the image in her head.

It's him!

It's the suspected murderer!

The man who killed Williams!

Xio lowered her head again and slowly stuffed the rest of the food into her mouth.

After a few minutes, she set the tray down on the bar, along with the glass, and left the Workers Alliance Tavern without looking back.

Due to her high boots, they effectively masked the most obvious features of her boots.

Outside, Xio slowed her pace and found a secluded spot to observe the people entering and exiting the tavern.

After waiting for a while, she finally found an acquaintance, a technician named Burton, who lived in East Borough and worked at the East Balam Dock.

The young man liked to treat himself to a cup of shoddy rye beer at noon or in the afternoon, and his salary only allowed him to afford such a beer, and he couldn't drink it every day.

Xio nimbly darted over and patted Burton on the shoulder. She lowered her voice and said, "It's me, Xio."

"Xio?" Burton looked up and down at the short man and nearly failed to recognize him as the famous Arbiter Xio Derecha of the streets of East Borough.

"I have something to ask you." Xio pointed to a nearby corner.

Burton followed in puzzlement, only to come to a realization when he arrived in a secluded corner.

"Are you doing a bounty mission?"

He had heard that Xio was also a bounty hunter.

"Yes." Xio nodded perfunctorily, fished out five pennies, and tossed them around. "Do you know that tall man at the tavern?"

"You mean the one that's this tall, has pale yellow hair, and wears a fierce look?" Burton gestured.

"Yes." Xio took out the folded portrait and unfolded it. "You have to be sure."

"That's him. He's been coming to this tavern often for the past two to three months. I've never seen him before that. He's very fierce, completely unreasonable, and he's good at fighting. It's best that you don't provoke him." Burton glanced at the portrait carefully and gave some sincere advice.

Yeah, when I saw that person just now, it was just like my encounter with a ferocious beast when I was young. I felt that I was in danger and wasn't a match for him, so I had to immediately avoid him... Xio secretly exhaled and asked, "Do you know anyone he's in close contact with?"

"No idea. He's not very sociable and he seldom speaks. We don't even know what his name is. We have given him a nickname, 'Giant.'" Burton curled his lips and shook his head.

Xio thought for a while before asking again, "Where else have you met him, besides the tavern?

"You can ask your friends the same question. Remember, it has to be a trusted friend."

Burton recalled and said, "When I went to the Dock Union to do some work, uh—the East Balam Dock's Dock Union, I would occasionally see him appear there. Xio, why aren't you a member of the union? You're so just, and those guys not only charge us 1.5 soli a week. But when the other docks go on strike, they'll pay us half our salary just because we have to support our families!

"Lord, let's just forget about it. In order to live a good life, we must help each other. However, once they organize a strike, they'll come to an agreement with the lawyers sent by those rich people. Our situation doesn't improve at all!"

"Stop, stop." Xio lowered her right palm and said, "Apart from that, have you seen 'Giant' anywhere else?"

"No, my friends probably haven't either. After all, we often discuss him in private," Burton answered in a firm tone.

Xio didn't say anything more and gave him five copper pennies.

"Drinks on me."

"Don't tell anyone about what I just asked. It'll be very dangerous."

Before she finished her sentence, she had already turned around the corner and headed towards the Dock Union located at East Balam Dock.

About ten minutes later, Xio saw the two-story yellow building.

She wore her canvas coat inverted and exposed the patches beneath, instantly transforming herself from a short worker to a vagabond.

Xio looked at the homeless people huddled around the corner, pinched her nose, and went over to sit down beside them. She glanced at the Dock Union on the opposite side of the street where people were coming in and out.

As the minutes passed, Xio endured the cold and the harsh environment while tenaciously observing the situation around the Dock Union and the surrounding area.

She clearly remembered Williams's insistence on drinking, and she also remembered how she felt when she saw the newspaper that fateful day.

These feelings made her even more patient than usual.

At that moment, about eight people came out of the Dock Union, and they headed for the café across the street to have lunch in groups.

Xio narrowed her eyes and carefully scanned every passer-by to confirm their appearance.

There's no one suspicious... Xio was about to look away and wait for the next batch of people when the door to the coffee shop creaked and was pulled open as the heat from within rushed out. A man couldn't help but take off his gold-rimmed glasses and wipe away the fog with his sleeves.

Xio gave him a casual glance, and her gaze suddenly froze.

Those eyes!

That mouth!

It always had that taunting smile!

Lanevus? Xio jerked her head back, not daring to look again.

The man from before had bronze skin and short hair, and his face was craggy. He was very different from the portraits, except that his eyes and mouth gave her a familiar feeling.

It was the feeling of taunting everyone!

Is it Lanevus? Can it be Lanevus? Xio bowed her head and stared at the flagstones on the street.

...

At the Sammers.

After a sumptuous lunch, the hosts and guests gathered in the activity room to chat, and they agreed to play Texas together.

Interesting rumors and humorous stories echoed intermittently as Klein maintained his smile, interjecting from time to time. He also saw the Sammer family's two children entering and exiting energetically.

And next to him, Jurgen Cooper wore his usual serious expression, occasionally providing legal advice for the discussion.

Klein smiled, turned his body slightly, and asked in a low voice, "Are you bored?"

"No, their topics are very interesting." Jurgen nodded seriously.

Klein was stunned and blurted a question, "Then why don't you laugh?"

Jurgen frowned slightly and looked at him in puzzlement.

"Why are you smiling?"

"..." Klein's mouth twitched, not knowing how to respond.

He was about to make a joke about how much Jurgen was like his cat Brody, forever so serious, when suddenly he heard a series of ethereal pleas.

Female... Miss Justice has found useful information, so quickly, based on the clue I gave her? Klein stood up and slightly bowed.

"I need to use the bathroom."

In the bathroom, Klein locked the door, took four steps counterclockwise, and went above the gray fog.

His judgment was very accurate, as the plea came from Miss Justice.

Klein suddenly felt nervous as he emanated his spirituality in anticipation and seriousness to listen to her words.

After the usual honorable name, Justice recounted truthfully, "They discovered the clue you provided at the Workers Alliance Tavern in the pier district's East Balam Dock. The person's nickname is 'Giant.'

"After tailing the Giant and figuring his in and outs, they discovered a person suspected to be Lanevus at the East Balam Dock's Dock Union.

"Temporarily, they don't dare to approach Lanevus because 'Giant' is very powerful and dangerous. They can only continue waiting for an opportunity.

"In the meantime, they've also asked if they could notify the police and collect the bounty after confirming that it's Lanevus."

Lanevus has a very powerful and dangerous helper. Does he have any other helpers? Is there a faction backing him? Why did he kill so many people? What was he planning to do by being in the Dock Union? A series of questions flashed through Klein's mind, making him feel that things were much more complicated than he had expected.

As for the last request, his answer was undoubtedly—yes. He would even suggest to the other party that they should inform the church of the Evernight Goddess directly because there was a possibility of the police leaking the information.

Getting the Nighthawks of the Church of the Goddess to kill Lanevus is also a form of revenge! Klein silently murmured to himself. He had a strong urge to immediately confirm that the man was Lanevus, lest things changed because he waited too long.

He took a deep breath, suppressed his emotions, and undid the spirit pendulum around his wrist on his sleeve.

"There is danger going to the Dock Union for confirmation."

Closing his eyes and chanting seven times, Klein opened his eyes and looked at the topaz pendant. He discovered that it was motionless, completely still.

The divination failed? Klein immediately frowned.

He changed the sentence he used, changed the divination method, but they all resulted in a failure.

After some careful thought, he thought of three reasons. First, there wasn't enough information to make a divination. Second, Lanevus wasn't at the Dock Union, making it difficult for the divination to succeed. And, third, Lanevus was just like Ince Zangwill who had items that could shield against divination.

An item to shield against divination... A benefit he obtained from that god's spawn ritual? A little godhood of the True Creator? Klein thought for a few seconds, then decided that no matter what, he had to make a trip to the Dock Union.

There were certain things that needed to be done even though danger was a certainty!

If the two ladies were able to observe secretly without being seen, so can I... I only need to meet with Lanevus once and I can confirm it with divination...

Of course, I can't be rash. I have to prepare in advance. For example, I have to send the All-Black Eye above the gray fog and not carry it with me. That's to prevent the spiritual corruption of the True Creator from resonating with "His" godhood. Another example, I should elevate my height so that the "Giant" wouldn't be able to recognize me as the "passer-by" from last night from my figure. For example, I should find a suitable and sufficient reason to not arouse suspicion. Yes, I can pretend to be a reporter and head there for an interview. I'll visit Mike Joseph later and borrow his false reporter identification...

The corner of Klein's mouth slowly curled up as he blanketed his body with his spirituality before descending back into the real world.

-x-X-x-

Three in the afternoon at the Dock Union in East Balam Dock.

Klein wore a thick sweater, a tan jacket, and a simple cap that brought him closer to the usual investigative reporters in style rather than the ones who attended banquets and interviewed people of status from time to time. Such a costume had cost him an extra 1 pound 10 soli.

At that moment, he was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and his hair was neatly combed back, gleaming with the luster of hair oil. His face no longer had a messy beard, so he could only plaster a deep-black stubble around his lips. His height was at least five centimeters taller than before. He was trying his best to look different from the worker from last night, making it impossible for anyone who wasn't particularly familiar with him to make any associations.

In the pockets of his clothes and trousers, there was no All-Black Eye, no charms or herbal essential oils. There was only a deck of tarot cards, a stack of notes, a fountain pen, a wallet, some change, a bunch of keys, and false reporter identification documents.

He didn't know the Lanevus's current condition, nor did he know where the powerful Beyonder lingering around him came from. Hence, out of precaution, he didn't bring any suspicious items.

Looking at the two-story building ahead of him, Klein crossed the street, pretending to not rely on the Clown's intuition to notice that several pairs of eyes were watching him.

He pushed open the door and saw that the Dock Union's layout was rather simple. There were no female receptionist or spacious lobbies. The stairs to the second floor were in the middle, flanked by office corridors, and the floors weren't lined with wooden planks, much less carpet. They were paved purely out of cement.

Klein turned his head to look at the man guarding by the door as he went over and said, "I'm a reporter from the Backlund Daily Tribune. I would like to interview the workers of your association and get to know your needs and desires."

The man was wearing a very patched jacket which even had dirty cotton lining exposed and a linen shirt underneath.

After hearing the word "reporter," he suddenly became vigilant and replied loudly, "No! We haven't organized a strike lately, no!"

"I think you've misunderstood me. I'm someone who sympathizes with you. I'm planning on doing a special report on what the union does to help the workers and the actual difficulties they encountered. Trust me." With the help of his Clown Beyonder powers, Klein made his eyes look abnormally sincere.

"Is that so... Go to Mr. Rand, our committee member in charge of publicity. Turn right, and it's the second office on the right," The man hesitated for a few seconds before replying.

"Thank you." Klein bowed with feigned relief, and he felt the gaze observing him from a dark corner of the room vanish.

He turned to his right and, with his back perspiring in cold sweat, knocked on the office door.

The door creaked open. A middle-aged man with sparse hair looked at him and asked, "May I know who you are?"

"Mr. Rand? I'm Reporter Statham from the Backlund Daily Tribune. This is my reporter identification documents. I'd like to make a report with unions as the theme to help you acquire more attention." Klein almost believed he was a journalist.

"That's me." The middle-aged man looked at the reporter's identification documents and said hesitatingly, clearly unwillingly, "It's hard for me to believe that you reporters are here to help us."

"I was born in East Borough, and I know how miserable the lives of the workers are. If you don't believe me, you can follow me the entire time and monitor my every question." Klein suddenly smiled and added, "A report with actual interview data would be better than nothing, far better than news that's written purely based on imagination. At least you can provide your views and hopefully guide things in the direction you want."

Rand touched his scalp and replied hesitantly, "Alright then...

"I'll follow you the entire time."

"Thank you!" Klein almost lost control of his emotions.

Afterward, under Rand's guidance, he entered one office after another, interviewing the members of the workers' association according to his prepared questions.

Right corridor, nothing. Left corridor, nothing... Klein calmly went up the wooden stairs to the second floor.

This time, Rand led him into the office directly opposite the staircase and introduced the people inside, "This is a reporter from the Backlund Daily Tribune, Mr. Statham.

"He wants to interview the lot of you, but I have to remind you that there are some questions which you have the right to refuse to answer."

Klein smiled, took two steps forward, and made a gesture to shake hands with each and every staff member in the room.

At that moment, he saw a slightly familiar figure.

Although the man's skin had turned bronze, his ordinary round face had become angular, and his glasses had changed from a round frame to a gold-rimmed frame, Klein still found a trace of familiarity from his spirituality as a Seer.

Immediately afterward, his body trembled, and the smile on his face almost went out of control.

"I-I'm sorry. I suddenly have a stomachache. May I ask, where the washroom is?" Klein asked with an awkward smile, holding his stomach with the hand that didn't hold a pen and paper.

Rand and the staff didn't suspect anything. They all pointed to the door and said, "Go out, turn left. When you reach the end, you'll see the sign."

Klein smiled apologetically and walked out of the room, heading quickly for the washroom.

Inside, he selected the cubicle closest to the window, sat on the toilet, and locked the wooden door behind him.

He bent down, the corners of his mouth curving into a silent laugh. He laughed so hard he nearly couldn't keep his body straight. A drop of sparkling liquid fell onto the ground from his laughter.

Klein had confirmed that it was Lanevus!

This wasn't because of that small sense of familiarity, but because he felt another type of aura from the other party's body, one that left an extremely deep impression on him!

This was also the main reason why he had nearly lost control on the spot.

The trembling of his body originated from his instinctive fear!

The collapse of his emotions came from the horror and sorrow deep within his memories!

That was, that was... That was the aura of the True Creator!

...

Klein washed his face and went on with the interview as if nothing had happened. Even while facing Lanevus, who had somehow changed so much, he continued to ask questions and record the answers.

After finishing all of this, he bade farewell to the workers' association and walked out of the dimly lit building.

Outside, the sky was cloudy and misty, as if the evening had come early.

The True Creator's aura can only come from "His" body or spawn, as well as things that extend from the two. For example, items bestowed by "Him," or "His" godhood... This corroborates with what Lanevus said to Hood Eugen. In addition, there's that tinge of familiarity. I didn't even need to go above the gray fog for divination to confirm that it's him... If it wasn't for me having already interacted with the True Creator a few times and coming close to his mental corruption, there's no way I could've recognized that aura to be "His" which didn't contain any strength and of "His" nature... Klein felt heavy emotions, but he appeared very relaxed.

He stood on the street and purposely organized the interview notes.

In the process, he caught a glimpse of a slightly familiar figure among the vagabonds across him.

Miss Xio? Klein instantly made a guess with what he knew.

He didn't stop, and he put away the notes before walking towards the tracked public carriage station.

At this moment, a horse carriage suddenly stopped in front of him.

"We meet again." Sitting in the carriage was a thin, elegant, middle-aged gentleman with white hair at his temples. He was the great detective who was helping the police investigation, Isengard Stanton.

As for Klein, he didn't look any different than usual. He was just a little taller and had changed into a new set of clothes.

"What a coincidence, I was just thinking about the last time I interviewed you," Klein answered deliberately.

Isengard suddenly understood and changed the subject with a smile.

"I'm here to investigate a case. The death of Siber has been eliminated and I'm in charge of it. Her death is very close to East Balam Dock."

"So it's indeed a copycat crime?" Klein feigned ignorance.

After exchanging a few pleasantries, he got into the tracked public carriage. Instead of going straight home, he made a transfer and headed to the Quelaag Club in Hillston.

In the Club's lounge, he quickly went above the gray fog to confirm that no one was following him.

Only at this step did Klein completely relax and feel some lingering fear.

The aura of the True Creator lingered in his mind like a nightmare, leaving the clothes on his back moist after they repeatedly dried.

To be sure, Klein conjured a yellowish-brown goatskin parchment and a dark red fountain pen before writing a divination statement he had already long thought of:

"The source of the inexplicable familiarity earlier."

Putting down his fountain pen and leaning back into his chair, he began to mumble as he entered the dream.

In that gray and illusory world, he saw a figure.

This figure had ordinary facial features. He wore round glasses, and he had a condescending and taunting smile from beginning to end. He was none other than Lanevus!

I've finally found you! Klein no longer used his Clown ability to control his facial expressions as he muttered to himself through clenched teeth.

Then, he sat up straight and prepared to answer Miss Justice's prayer.

Klein controlled his emotions and said in a deep but cold voice, "There's no need for confirmation.

"That is Lanevus.

"You can inform the Church of the Evernight Goddess and tell them that Lanevus has the godhood of the Fallen Creator."

...

Audrey, who was watching her father train the hunting hounds with Susie, froze when she heard Mr. Fool's response.

Fallen Creator... Isn't that the True Creator? That swindler actually has the godhood of the True Creator? Th-this, such a simple mission actually involves the godhood of the True Creator!? As expected, I knew Mr. Fool had other deeper motives... He was targeting the True Creator. As expected of Mr. Fool! Many thoughts flashed through Audrey's mind.

-x-X-x-

Audrey, who had set up an urgent communication method with Xio and Fors, quickly passed on Mr. Fool's message to the two ladies through the huge golden retriever, Susie, claiming that the information she had received came via other sources.

In the corner of an old church, as Xio was thinking about how to confirm Lanevus's identity, or how she should create chaos and avenge Williams, she unfolded the ball of paper.

... There's no need to confirm. He's Lanevus? Xio's eyes widened as she quickly skimmed through the rest of the paper's content. The piece of paper clearly wrote:

"The only choice is to notify the Church of the Evernight Goddess.

"Alert them that Lanevus has the godhood of the True Creator on him."

"Godhood? The True Creator's godhood?" Xio blurted out as she looked at the golden retriever in front of her in shock, only to realize that she was equally dumbfounded.

"What?" Fors was listening when she suddenly felt something was amiss. She hurriedly reached out for the piece of paper and scanned it.

After a moment, she curled her lips and said at a loss, "This... this must be a joke, right?

"How did we get involved in a matter that's tied to an evil god's godhood?"

This was meant to involve the capture of a cunning swindler worth only 200 pounds!

In response to Fors's question, Susie could only express the notion that she was only a dog and that she didn't know what was happening either with her innocent eyes.

Not expecting a dog to answer her questions, she turned her head to Xio and said, "I'm afraid Miss Audrey isn't as naive and innocent as we thought. She has many secrets.

"This might be a power struggle between a cult, the nobles and the Church.

"However, it's evident that she didn't know about the matter of godhood prior to this. She's also being used by someone. Hmm... That person could be her father, Count Hall."

"What's fortunate is that this matter ends here. You don't need to take the risk anymore. After you get someone to make the report, you just need to wait to collect the bounty in peace."

Xio was startled and said, "That's true...

"Hopefully, those Nighthawks are able to avenge Williams. They're so strong, so they'll definitely be able to do it. Definitely..."

Before she finished speaking, she suddenly turned her head to the side and spoke as if she was talking to herself, "I'm still too weak.

"Too weak..."

Xio jerked her hand up, covering her mouth and nose.

...

I'm still too weak... If not for that, I would've chosen to take revenge myself, but right now I can only take a step back... Not to mention there's 'Giant' and those hidden helpers around Lanevus. With just his godhood, he isn't someone I can deal with... With the reaction speed of the Nighthawks, they'll likely take action tonight once they receive the report. The Backlund diocese is second only to the Church's headquarters. They have many Sealed Artifacts and many powerful Beyonders. There's no need to wait for any additional helpers... After completing his task of informing Audrey, Klein returned to the real world. He stuck on a beard, changed his hairstyle, and stared into the mirror for several minutes.

He felt anticipation and excitement, as well as depression and a sense of powerlessness.

Before the evening arrived, he left the Quelaag Club and returned to Minsk Street. On his way, he went to the grocery market and found a stall that was bustling with its great business. He bought several masks, including a clown's.

He had decided to watch the hunt for Lanevus tonight!

He wanted to see the other party pay the price for his madness with his own eyes!

Of course, with his strength, he could only watch from a distance and not even have the right to approach them.

By eleven o'clock, when many people were in their dreams, Klein changed into his grayish-blue worker's uniform and disguised himself as he had the night before. Then, he put on his cap, walked a few streets away, and took a rental carriage to the Backlund Bridge area.

Once there, he switched to walking and walked all the way to the East Balam Dock.

His interview yesterday included questions such as "where are you staying now" and "how's the environment like." Therefore, he knew very well that Lanevus would be staying in the dormitory provided by the Dock Union at night.

However, Klein didn't go near it. Instead, he carefully went around it. His target was the clock tower of the East Balam Dock.

In Backlund, in addition to the large church with its tall, iconic clock tower, many government buildings were also equipped with one. However, they weren't necessarily tall, grand, and not ornate. It was mostly built for pragmatic reasons, such as this one in the East Balam Dock.

Compared to the surrounding buildings that reached a maximum of three stories, it was like a giant that stood high in the night sky as it overlooked the entire area.

Klein easily entered the interior of the clock tower and went up the endless flight of spiral stairs as he moved quickly in the darkness.

Finally, he arrived at his destination. He arrived at the top of the gigantic wall clock. It was surrounded by a dark yellow fence, and at the top of his head was a steeple that could be reached by stretching his hand.

Taking a few steps forward, Klein hid in the shadows, got a sense of his bearings, and looked towards the Dock Union's dormitory.

It was a two-story, brick-red building, and the occasional pedestrian resembled a black dot in Klein's eyes.

He stared for a few seconds, then took a step back, and sank into the darkness.

At the same time, he took out his newly bought mask and wore it.

It was a clown with the corner of its mouth sharply raised and a painted red nose.

A happy clown.

...

Wearing a clown mask, Klein stood in the rich darkness, patiently waiting for the predetermined show.

He waited for two hours.

When the hands of the large wall clock passed one o'clock, he suddenly saw something flying from the distance.

It was a huge airship covered in dark black paint!

If it weren't for the faint moonlight, it would've been indistinguishable from the night sky. Unlike what was described in the newspapers and magazines, depicting them as machines that emitted exaggerated mechanical noises, its oars rotated quietly, as silent as a vulture who had found its prey but hadn't found a chance.

The solid, light alloy supported the cotton frame, and below it hung the compartment for guns, projectile launchers, and cannons. At a glance, it appeared to be a powerful deterrent.

It's silent... Is this a temporary result caused by Beyonder means? Klein, wearing his clown mask, looked at the slowly descending airship and made a guess.

At this moment, he was most puzzled over the dispatch of an airship for a small-scale Beyonder battle in a densely populated area of the city!

Aren't they afraid of dealing collateral damage to the surrounding citizens? Aren't they afraid of causing panic?

Very soon, the airship hovered about 10 meters in the air. This way, Klein was even less worried about being discovered. His position was much higher than them!

Observing the situation below, he suddenly had a hunch. It was likely that the airship wouldn't engage in combat, but rather provide air surveillance of the area to give the personnel involved in the operation a better view and prevent the target from escaping if any accidents occurred.

Right at this moment, three figures dressed in black robes suddenly appeared in front of the two story brick-red building.

The man in the lead didn't wear a hat, revealing his short golden brown hair and blackish-green eyes which appeared to be as deep as a windless lake.

The collars of his shirt and windbreaker were propped up high, and his palms were covered with a layer of gloves that were as red as blood!

A silver-white metal suitcase was wound around his left hand via a chain of the same color.

This was one of the of the nine high-ranking deacons of the Church of the Evernight Goddess, Crestet Cesimir. He was also one of the three powerhouses of the Red Gloves and he happened to be in Backlund.

After looking straight ahead, Cesimir turned his head to the left and said to his subordinate, "Use Sealed Artifact 1-63."

"Yes, Your Grace." The Nighthawk crouched down and helped Cesimir untie the chain around the silver suitcase.

Throughout the entire process, Crestet Cesimir's muscles were very tense, as though he was fighting something.

The Nighthawk on the left took a deep breath and pressed down suddenly, causing the illusionary ripples on the surface of the silver box to crack.

The surrounding halo suddenly disappeared as if it was completely sucked into the case. A bone sword, that was less than a meter-long, emitted glossy, pure white light as it slowly floated up.

Its blade had an ancient silver-coated mirror attached to it.

The scenes reflected in the mirror were layered and superimposed without end.

The Nighthawk on the left took the mirror and pointed it at the brick-red building.

The building was clearly reflected in it, and nothing seemed to change.

However, Cesimir slowly exhaled, stretched out his left hand to grasp the short bone sword.

The surrounding halo was somewhat restored.

"Let's go in." He started walking towards the entrance of the brick building.

The three Nighthawks opened the door and entered the dark building and targeted the stairs that led to the second floor.

At that moment, a tall, thin figure emerged from the shadows in the corner. He wore a black priest's uniform, and he had curly, pale yellow hair and beastly dark brown eyes.

"You're the Goddess's Sword?" The nearly-two-meter-tall "Giant" spoke in a deep voice.

At the same time, he clenched his right palm.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The Union members in this small brick-red building exploded one after another in their dreams, without even having the chance to scream.

Their bodies split into pieces, turning into thick, sticky flesh. Half of their bodies rushed towards the "Giant" to weave into cloaks that could reduce magical damage. The other half condensed into furry giant rugs that blanketed the three Nighthawks.

Crestet Cesimir only watched silently without doing anything.

Silently, the flesh and blood dissipated and collapsed before falling down like rain, but the raindrops didn't stain the floor red.

In each of the rooms, figures emerged once more, still sleeping soundly.

"This is the world within a mirror, a mirror world that only targets Beyonders. The flesh bombs you planted in the bodies of the ordinary people are only illusions in here." Cesimir raised the Holy Artifact bone sword in his right hand, causing the light around him to disappear.

"Hmph!" the "Giant" suddenly grabbed his left shoulder with his right hand and tore off his arm. He then threw the blood arm forward!

Boom!

His arm exploded like a bomb, turning into a rain of blood that rained down on the three Nighthawks.

At the same time, the flesh on his left shoulder began to squirm madly as he slowly grew a new arm which was still bloody without any skin.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Sizzle!

The blood-colored raindrops accurately avoided Cesimir and the others before falling to the ground and quickly corroding into deep, dark traces.

But no matter how hard they tried, they always missed the three Nighthawks by a hair's breadth, as if they were fated to do so.

"My enemies aren't always lucky enough." The corners of Cesimir's mouth curled up, and with a slip of his foot, he instantly appeared in front of "Giant."

Giant's eyes narrowed as his body suddenly melted like a candle, turning into sticky flesh and blood that quickly seeped into the floor.

Cesimir immediately kneeled and plunged the Holy Artifact bone sword into the ground.

"No!"

In the rich darkness, a roar filled with pain and horror instantly sounded, and it was immediately swallowed up by tranquility and serenity.

Cesimir stood up and drew out the bone sword. A drop of dark red blood was slowly dripping down its tip, and on the floor, flesh and blood were seeping out, congealing into a face of despair. It was precisely the "Giant" who had a slightly drooping mouth.

Pat! Pat! Pat!

Three shadows appeared around Cesimir in succession. However, they all mysteriously collapsed to the ground, having been forcefully taken down by many invisible entities!

Bang! Bang! Bang! Another Nighthawk fired, and the silver surface of the bullet seemed to bear the Evernight Sacred Emblem.

The three attackers hiding in the shadows suddenly revealed themselves, twitching as they lost their breath.

"Rose Bishop, Shadow Ascetic... People from the Aurora Order." Cesimir frowned and said in a low voice without turning to his companions, "There's something wrong about this. It's very strange. All of you be careful."

Before he could finish his words, he heard the shuffling of footsteps which echoed in the silence and serenity.

Immediately, he saw Lanevus with his chiseled face dressed in a linen shirt walking down the dark staircase. He appeared calm and placid without any signs of fear.

"I'm very curious. To the Aurora Order, you should be a blasphemer. Why would they send people to protect you?" Cesimir didn't seem to notice the abnormality as he asked casually.

Lanevus showed his trademark taunting smile and said, "That's simple.

"Because I'm no longer just Lanevus."

He paused for a moment, and his gaze suddenly turned cold.

"Now, I'm even more of the True Creator!"

He yanked open his linen shirt, revealing the dark red flesh of his skinless chest and abdomen.

The flesh and blood were conjoined together, forming the figure of a hanged man!

All of a sudden, the void around them shattered like glass, and all the scenes around them crumbled.

This was the aura of a deity.

-x-X-x-

In the clock tower of East Balam Dock, Klein hid in the darkness while donning a clown mask as he quietly stared at the dormitory of the Dock Union. An airship floated above.

He couldn't see the details of the battle, and he had no way of knowing the developments of the operation in the red-brick building. All he could do was endure and determine the situation by observing the changes in the surroundings and the occasional black dot that passed by.

Just then, he saw all the gas lamps in the area extinguish.

All of them had been extinguished!

It was pitch black there!

Right on the heels of that, a feeling that left an extremely deep impression on him exploded from the small red-brick building. Even from a long distance away, Klein couldn't help but tremble all over; his legs went soft, and he bent his waist.

It was the feeling of being looked down upon, a feeling that repressed one's spirit.

It was a feeling that was impossible to resist or face!

No, don't look directly at God... In his adrift thoughts, Klein seemed to recall the time when he was in the hall of the Blackthorn Security Company. It was like when he was about to activate his Spirit Vision to probe the mental state of Megose and the baby in her womb.

That feeling was exactly the same as it was now!

No, it's even more extreme and terrifying right now!

How could this be? Wasn't Lanevus just bestowed with a little bit of the True Creator's godhood? At most, he would be given one or two other corresponding items! Why does it feel like an evil god is about to descend?

Before Klein could shake off the trembling of his body and the numbing of his thoughts, he suddenly felt a deep, serene, and profound darkness engulfing the feeling that couldn't be looked at, probed, or resisted.

The two sensations were obliterated at the same time, causing the gas lamps in the surrounding area to light up once again. The airship which couldn't stop itself from plummeting floated back up again.

Everything seemed to return to its original state, without the slightest change.

But Klein didn't believe that everything was over. He stood up with all his might, knowing that something important had happened in the red-brick building.

The feeling that exceeds a Beyonder, at a fundamental level, is no longer there, nor is there the feeling of the descent of an evil god. This means that the True Creator or Lanevus's plot has failed... However, the Nighthawks must've suffered some sort of serious blow as well. They might not even have much strength left... At that moment, Klein's heart stirred. He quickly took out the spirit pendulum inside his left sleeve, holding it with one hand as he said in a low voice, "Lanevus is no longer dangerous at the moment."

After quickly repeating it seven times, he opened his eyes and saw that the topaz pendant was rotating counterclockwise. However, its frequency wasn't fast, and its amplitude wasn't large.

This showed that Lanevus was still a dangerous man but to a lesser degree.

What caught Klein's attention was something else.

The divination hadn't failed again!

This meant that Lanevus had been separated from the godhood bestowed upon him by the True Creator!

A cold wind blew, seeping deep into Klein's bones, causing him to shiver. He felt as if an electric current had instantly drilled into his brain from the soles of his feet.

Maybe I can do something! He suddenly had this thought and no longer hesitated. He took four steps counterclockwise in the dark clock tower and went above the gray fog.

Without wasting any time, he sat down and conjured a piece of yellowish-brown goatskin parchment and wrote a divination statement:

"Lanevus's escape route."

Klein leaned back, quickly chanted the statement, and entered a deep dream.

In that illusory, separated, misty world, he saw the slush-filled sewers with their dark, dirty tunnels and rusty metal pipes.

It was cramped and sealed.

It's the sewers!

Klein immediately woke up, enveloped his body with spirituality, and descended into the gray fog.

As soon as he returned to the real world, he took a few steps back and came to the side of the clock tower that faced away from the airship.

Klein didn't walk down the spiral stairs but instead somersaulted over the dark yellow fence. With the help of the platform, the bulging spots, and the decorations on the surface of the building, he jumped down level by level, his body was so balanced it was if though he was walking on the ground.

In a very short period of time, his feet stepped on the thick flagstones on the street.

...

Inside the small red-brick building, two Nighthawks wearing red gloves had collapsed by the door unconscious. The ancient silver-plated mirror had rolled to a corner, but it was no longer special. It no longer looked anything like a Grade 1 Sealed Artifact.

However, one could clearly feel that it was recovering bit by bit.

Crestet Cesimir was kneeling at an intersection, a stream of tear-like blood streaked down the corners of his eyes.

His short, golden-brown hair hung limply, and his standing collars on his windbreaker and shirt were in tatters, revealing his relatively sharp chin and his thin, stiff mouth.

Gasping for air, a distorted, semi-illusory, and translucent face appeared on each of his teeth.

Cesimir braced himself with his left red-gloved hand on the ground, with difficulty, he straightened his neck and looked straight ahead.

Directly in front of him was the staircase to the second floor, above which stood Lanevus who had his linen shirt completely unbuttoned.

Lanevus stood very straight, with the pure white, smooth bone sword stuck in his chest.

The skinless flesh no longer formed the outline of the hanging man's figure, leaving behind a void.

Vaguely, one could even see his back through the hole in Lanevus's body.

Lanevus moved with great difficulty before suddenly laughing loudly. He said with a maniacal laugh, "Haha, haha, thank you!

"I really need to thank you!

"For real. Look at my sincere eyes. I really want to thank you!

"If you hadn't discovered me and arrived in time, I would truly become the vessel of the True Creator when 'He' descends in a few months. When that happens, how different would it be from dying?"

Cesimir was stunned when he heard that. He refused to believe that the person who had his crutch destroyed thanks to his hard work would be so happy.

At that moment, he wished to stand, but he couldn't. He was also powerless to resist.

When Lanevus saw his confusion, he coughed and said with a smile, "Do you know? To people like me, it's the most miserable thing when there's no one to share a great accomplishment that I'm proud of.

"Cough, when I was in Tingen City, I was deceived by the True Creator who not only initiated the descent of his spawn, but he also secretly planted a 'sapling' in my body.

"No, I even believe that Megose's child was just 'His' ruse. 'He' didn't even get the members of the Aurora Order to protect her to divert attention. It was as though 'He' knew from the beginning that the ploy would end in failure.

"'His' true descent was set up inside me. The godhood 'He' bestowed upon me suddenly combined with the 'sapling' in my body after I reached Backlund. Haha, can you imagine that? I was being replaced bit by bit by 'Him!' In the end, I would become the True Creator.

"Before I came up with a solution, I was found by the members of the Aurora Order through the godhood. Thankfully, they're all lunatics with simple brains. Haha, there are always so many fools."

Cough! Cough! Cough! Lanevus spat out a mouthful of foul blood, seemingly recovering some of his mobility.

He took a difficult step forward, and his chiseled face suddenly turned soft for some unknown reason as he began resembling his original self.

Lanevus reached out to the staircase's handrail and laughed tauntingly.

"Thankfully, if the True Creator wishes to fully descend and completely replace me, He'll need large amounts of pessimism, despair, numbness, resentment and primitive evil. Only Backlund—only East Borough, the factory and dock area, could satisfy His requirements. This gave me a chance to interact with others.

"I knew that it was unrealistic to report this to the police simply through the people I interacted with because the people I come in contact could very well be members of the Aurora Order.

"I initially wanted to instigate a strike to get the police to notice me, but I was warned by someone from the Aurora Order. After being tortured, I could only hastily end it.

"I acted as though I was on the brink of losing control and had gained the opportunity to head into the sewers to vent. During this process, I secretly used my blood to corrupt the creatures living in there, turning them into terrifying mutated monsters. Unfortunately, before you could fully investigate the reason behind it, it was discovered by the Aurora Order. Apparently, a member of theirs died under a mutated monster. Sigh, now that I no longer have the godhood or the sapling, my blood no longer has such effects.

"After that, I was controlled even more strictly, but I still found an opportunity. I killed a prostitute and used the cruelest method to attract the attention of the police, but who would've thought that the people of the Aurora Order would disguise the case as part of series of serial murders? I still failed to receive the rescue I needed.

"Out of similar opportunities, I could only use a more ingenious method. I took the initiative to request for the fiercest, craziest, most radical member of the Aurora Order to watch me, and this suited their thoughts. Hehe, can't they use their brains? Such a lunatic would get into trouble at any moment. As expected, you guys came!"

Phew... At that moment, Lanevus exhaled and began to move his body, as if he had finally gotten rid of the remnant effects.

He pulled out the holy bone sword from his chest and said regretfully, "What a pity. I can't take it with me; otherwise, I would be quickly tracked and found by you."

After the pure white bone sword completely separated from his body, not a single drop of blood remained from the exaggerated wound. The part that had disappeared didn't seem to belong to Lanevus.

Lanevus pressed his right hand against his chest, bowing as he faced Crestet Cesimir and company.

"The people on the airship outside should be recovering soon. I can't stay any longer.

"Thank you, thank you very much.

"Although you're all very stupid, you still ultimately helped me.

"It's an honor for foolish bastards like yourselves."

Having said this, he straightened his body and smiled tauntingly, "Goodbye, foolish Nighthawks.

"Use your lives to send me off."

Grasping the bone sword in his hand, he abruptly took a few steps forward, attempting to stab at Crestet Cesimir.

But at that moment, his eyelids began to grow heavy, as he felt like collapsing into a slumber.

"So you still have some strength. This is troublesome..." Lanevus bit his tongue gently and suddenly threw the holy bone sword at the unconscious Nighthawk by the door.

"No!"

Cesimir waved his hand with the strength he accumulated through painstaking means, causing an invisible entity to divert the holy bone sword.

Lanevus seized that opportunity and dashed to the side. He somersaulted out the red-brick building through the window at the washroom at the end of the corridor.

Soon after, he opened a manhole cover along the streets and quickly climbed into the sewers.

Lanevus seemed to be very familiar with this place. Even though it was dark, he could still run, jump, and turn, quickly fleeing deep into the maze of sewers.

Suddenly, he instinctively stopped and leaned back.

Oof!

A card had stabbed deep into his right chest and blood began dripping profusely from its edge.

Lanevus looked up, and with his ability to see in the dark, he saw his attacker.

It was a medium-sized man in a worker's uniform, wearing a mask with a raised mouth and red nose.

It was a happy clown.

-x-X-x-