Chapter 39: An Interesting Technique

Chapter Thirty-Nine
An Interesting Technique

In truth, I have no idea whether that notebook was destroyed or hidden… But I can reason backward. If it needed to be destroyed, it could have been done right at the scene. There was no need for me to carry it away first…

Hearing Leonard’s question, Klein instantly activated “keyboard detective” mode. After a moment’s thought, he said, “Perhaps the unknown existence Welch, Naya, and I touched both enjoys the ‘sacrifice’ of lives and hopes similar incidents will happen again. Since the ‘suicide incident’ would inevitably be discovered, it had me take the notebook away and hide it, preparing for a second round of ‘enjoyment.’ Something simply went wrong in the process, and in the end I failed to kill myself.”

This was a reasonable guess Klein made based on the materials, novels, films, and television dramas involving evil sacrifices that he had seen in his previous life.

As for what had gone wrong in the process, he knew very well.

The variable called “transmigrator” had appeared.

“A good explanation. But I think there may be another possibility,” Leonard Mitchell said. “The suicidal sacrifice of Welch and Naya may have granted that unknown existence the possibility of descending. The notebook may have carried or nurtured evil. Having you take it away and hide it was because it feared that before it was ‘born,’ before it became ‘strong,’ we would discover it and directly destroy it.”

At this point, he stared into Klein’s eyes and gave a faint smile.

“Of course, perhaps the notebook has already been destroyed. Its purpose was to conceal the contents written on it, and to conceal the object that truly carried or nurtured evil. In that case, your failed suicide would have a sufficient explanation.”

What does he mean? Is he suspecting me? Suspecting the original owner’s body of carrying or nurturing evil?

No. What it carries or nurtures is a transmigrator… Actually, “nurtures” is not a bad word…

Klein froze for a second. Even as he silently complained, he weighed his words and said, “I will not defend myself. After all, I truly did forget that period of memory. But both the Captain and Madam Daly have confirmed that there is nothing else wrong with me. Your joke is not amusing.”

“I am merely exploring a possibility,” Leonard said with a smile, smoothly changing the topic. “Perhaps when that unknown existence descended, it encountered a blow, leading to your failed suicide. We should believe that the Goddess always protects us.”

He paused, then asked, “Did you discover anything this afternoon?”

After the earlier conversation and past events, Klein had developed a deep wariness toward Leonard. Outwardly, however, he answered without the slightest change.

“No. Tomorrow afternoon, I will have to change to a different route.”

He pointed toward the partition.

“I need to go collect ammunition from the armory.”

“The Goddess bless you.”

Leonard smiled and drew the sign of the crimson moon over his chest.

Watching Klein pass through the partition, listening as his footsteps descended the stairs, Leonard’s smile gradually disappeared. His green eyes filled with confusion.

In a low voice, he said something, his tone faintly dissatisfied.

…

After going downstairs, Klein followed the corridor quietly lit by gas lamps and turned toward the weapons, materials, and archives storage.

The iron door there stood open. The brown-haired girl Rozanne was standing before the long table, speaking with a middle-aged man who had a thick black beard and wore a half-top hat.

“Afternoon—no, good evening. It is always like midnight here. Klein, I heard from Old Neil that you became a Beyonder? Something called a ‘Seer’?” Rozanne turned her head and asked rapidly.

She did not try to hide her curiosity or concern.

Klein nodded with a smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss Rozanne. Although it is always night here, it feels peaceful. Your description just now was not quite accurate. The proper way to say it is that the name of the sequence potion I consumed is Seer.”

“You still chose to become a Beyonder…”

Rozanne sighed and fell silent for a moment.

Klein looked toward the middle-aged man beside her and asked politely, “And this gentleman is?”

Another Nighthawk member, or one of the two civilian staff I have not met?

Rozanne pressed her lips together.

“Bright. Our colleague. He wants to switch duty order with me and keep the night after tomorrow free. He is taking his wife to the North Borough Grand Theater to see The Arrogant One, to celebrate their fifteenth wedding anniversary. Truly a romantic gentleman.”

Bright extended his hand with a smile.

“With Miss Rozanne present, nothing needs repeating. Hello, Klein. I did not expect you to become a Beyonder so quickly. As for me, heh, perhaps I will never have that courage.”

“Perhaps it is simply that the ignorant know no fear,” Klein said self-mockingly as he shook the other man’s hand.

“That is not a bad thing,” Bright replied, shaking his head with a smile. “A Beyonder once told me before dying: never investigate strange and dangerous things. The less you know, the longer you live.”

At that moment, Rozanne cut in.

“Klein, you do not need to mind too much. I heard Old Neil say that your Seer is more supportive and relatively much safer, as long as you do not attempt to communicate with unknown existences. Why are you dressed like this? Not gentlemanly at all! What did you come here for?”

“To collect today’s thirty bullets,” Klein answered, ignoring Rozanne’s earlier question.

He trusted that this young lady would quickly forget the matter.

“All right.”

Rozanne pointed at the table.

“Bright, I will leave it all to you. You should know where the keys and bullets are. Ah, Old Neil really is stingy. He did not leave any of the hand-ground coffee behind. He promised to let me drink to my heart’s content today…”

Amid her rambling, Klein collected the ammunition.

The two left the underground level together, then parted ways on Zouteland Street. One took a public carriage home. The other entered the “shooting club.”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Gripping the gun, raising his arm, firing, flicking out the cylinder, removing spent casings, loading bullets…

Klein repeated the process again and again, familiarizing himself with the feeling of shooting and committing it to memory.

Of course, he rested several times in between so that he could summarize and correct his mistakes.

After finishing his practice, Klein used the range space to do various exercises similar to push-ups, working hard to train his body and improve his condition.

By the time everything ended and he returned home by trackless public carriage, he discovered it was nearly seven. The sky outside had long since darkened.

Just as Klein was preparing to go to the market or street stalls to buy ingredients for dinner, he saw the front door open. Melissa came back carrying her bag of books and stationery.

In addition, she carried quite a few vegetables.

“…I thought you and Benson would both be coming home late today, so before I left in the morning, I took one soli from the place where you hide money,” Melissa explained seriously out of habit, noticing her brother’s puzzled gaze.

“You already took money. Why didn’t you take a public carriage to school?”

Prompted by the reminder, Klein remembered the matter from the morning.

Melissa frowned slightly.

“Why would I take a public carriage? To reach school costs four pence. There and back is eight pence. Counting you and Benson, we would spend twenty-four pence a day on public carriages. That is exactly two soli. In a week—mm, not counting Sunday—that is twelve soli, almost equal to our rent!”

Stop, stop. There is no need to show off your math…

Amused, Klein pressed a hand down to interrupt.

Melissa paused, then added, “Walking to school is fine. The teacher says everyone needs regular exercise, and I can pick up broken parts on the road.”

Klein laughed softly.

“Then let us calculate again. Public carriage costs twelve soli, rent is twelve soli and three pence. Together, that is only one pound, four soli, and three pence. Benson’s salary alone can cover it, with quite a bit left over. Mm, he received last week’s pay…

“And I can still receive one pound ten soli each week. Even if we eat meat every day, even counting gas, coal, wood, seasonings, and everything else, as long as lunch remains simple, there will still be a surplus. We could even subscribe to a morning newspaper. It costs only one penny per day.

“After two months, once I have repaid the salary advance, I can start saving to buy new clothes for Benson, and for you.”

“But—But we need to consider accidents,” Melissa insisted, holding to her unchanged view.

Klein looked at her with a smile.

“Then we can eat a little less meat. Do you not think spending fifty—no, a hundred—minutes on the road every day is a tremendous waste of time? You could use that time to read more, think more, and improve your grades.”

“In that way, Melissa, you will be able to graduate with excellent marks and find a well-paying job. By then, what would you still need to worry about?”

“…”

Drawing upon his experience debating on forums in his previous life, he finally persuaded Melissa into agreeing to take the public carriage to school.

Whew. Finally fooled her—no, how can that be called fooling her? This is called convincing someone through reason…

Klein muttered inwardly, took the vegetables Melissa had bought, and sighed.

“Remember to buy beef, lamb, or chicken tomorrow… Only by eating enough, and eating well, can you have a healthy body and a clever brain capable of dealing with difficult studies.”

Just talking about it is making me drool a little…

Melissa pressed her lips together. After several seconds of silence, she said, “All right.”

…

Early the next morning, after supervising Melissa as she boarded a public carriage, Klein and Benson parted at the street corner and went to their respective companies.

Klein had only just stepped through the door when he saw Old Neil chatting with Rozanne at the reception desk. The former was still wearing his classical black robe, utterly unconcerned with other people’s gazes. The latter had changed into a light, tender-yellow casual dress.

“Good morning, Mr. Neil. Miss Rozanne.”

Klein removed his hat and bowed.

Old Neil looked at him with teasing eyes.

“Good morning. Did you hear anything last night that you should not have heard?”

“No. I slept very well.”

Klein found that rather strange himself.

He could only attribute it to his inspiration not being high enough…

“Haha. Do not mind it. It is not actually that easy to hear those things.”

Old Neil pointed toward the partition.

“Go to the armory. This morning, we will continue our mysticism lessons.”

Klein nodded. He followed Old Neil down the stairs, entered the underground area, and arrived at the armory, where they relieved Bright, who had been on night duty.

“What do I need to learn today?” Klein asked curiously.

Old Neil gave a long “hmm.”

“Complicated, basic knowledge. But before that, I will teach you an interesting technique.”

He pointed to the silver chain wrapped around his wrist. At the end of the chain hung a pure white crystal.