Chapter 106: Klein the Painter

Chapter One Hundred Six
Klein the Painter

After eight o’clock, inside the Moretti family dining room.

Looking at the plate with only a shallow layer of soup left at the bottom, Benson raised a hand to cover his mouth and let out a satisfied burp.

“Although this is already the third time I have eaten it, I still find it more than delicious. The sweet tartness of the tomatoes and the resilient texture and very special freshness of the oxtail have fused together perfectly. Klein, what a pity. Blackthorn Security Company has caused Tingen City to lose an outstanding chef.”

Melissa leaned back against her chair and nodded silently in agreement.

“That is only because you have never encountered truly exceptional cooking,” Klein said with a modest smile. “If the opportunity comes, we can go to Bonaparte Restaurant in the Howes Street area and taste authentic Intis cuisine, then go to Coastline Restaurant in the Golden Indus Borough and try delicacies from the south.”

Both were restaurants that frequently appeared in newspapers. At the former, each person’s average spending was one and a half pounds.

“I like what you make better,” Melissa answered without hesitation.

Benson chuckled, then changed the topic.

“But I always feel that your tomato oxtail soup lacks something. Perhaps—perhaps it should not be eaten with bread?”

Klein nodded in agreement.

“Its best partner should be rice.”

“Rice…”

Melissa murmured the word softly. Unexpectedly, her expression held a fair amount of longing.

Tingen, located toward the north and not exactly a great metropolis, rarely offered rice outside of a few particular restaurants.

For Benson and Melissa, that food almost existed only in newspaper descriptions and in occasional textbook introductions.

Seeing his younger sister’s expression, Klein laughed and said, “Once we save money for another half year, we will find a chance to vacation at Desi Bay and taste the food there.”

Desi Bay lay at the southernmost part of the Loen Kingdom. One third of it belonged to the Feynapotter Kingdom. The place had abundant sunlight, beautiful scenery, and was famous for its seafood rice.

Before Melissa could express her opinion on thrift, Klein proactively brought up another matter.

“In three more months, my salary will rise by a fairly large margin. At that time, it can satisfy both our need to travel and our need to save money.”

“Why?” Benson and Melissa were indeed led away from their original concern.

Klein coughed twice and explained with a smile, “Because of my rather good professional abilities, the police department that often cooperates with our company also wishes to hire me as a part-time historical consultant. They will pay me an extra salary, at least two pounds per week. In the future, if you see me wearing a police uniform and taking out the corresponding identification, please do not be surprised.”

“Of course, you both know that government efficiency is like the footsteps of a ninety-year-old lady. They still need a long process, and they still need to assess me. So over the next two months, I will often visit Hoy University on my rest days, looking for my mentor and the instructors I know to learn more.”

Under the astonished gazes of his elder brother and younger sister, he paused, his expression turning a little odd as he said, “Just like Emperor Roselle once said: live and learn.”

Benson fell silent for several seconds. Half emotional, half self-mocking, he said, “Is it too late for me to apply to university now?”

“Knowledge truly is equal to wealth.”

And equal to power as well…

Klein silently added.

“Benson, you need Klein’s grammar books. You need his classical literature textbooks,” Melissa suddenly said on Klein’s behalf.

Benson’s expression seemed to shift. He gritted his teeth and said, “Klein, give me those books tonight.”

“Even if they are better than any sleeping draught, I will persist in reading them for one—no, one and a half hours every day.”

“I swear in the name of the Goddess! If I fail, then I am a curly-haired baboon!”

Klein’s smile immediately became radiant.

“No problem.”

…

The next morning, after hanging his coat and hat on the rack in the lounge, Klein followed the message Rozanne had relayed and went underground, walking all the way to the duty room outside Chanis Gate.

Captain Dunn and the team members Leonard, Siga, Royale, Kenley, and Kernli were all present.

Dunn’s gray eyes swept over the newly promoted Nighthawk at the entrance. He smiled and said, “Every Thursday, we hold a routine meeting to summarize previous missions and discuss the various difficult questions we have encountered.”

I am someone who has survived countless regular meetings…

Klein grumbled inwardly, found a place to sit down, and joked, “Do we need to begin with self-introductions?”

Dunn laughed once, then looked toward Kenley.

“Briefly describe the follow-up investigation regarding Sirius Arapis.”

Kenley had also transferred from being a civilian staff member into a Nighthawk. He was not tall, his brown hair was fairly thick, his body well proportioned, and his muscles solid. He gave the impression of being smart and capable.

After thinking for a moment, he said, “With Old Neil’s help, we found Sirius’s secret hideout. There were quite a few books and objects at the scene. Based on them, we can confirm that Sirius was a subordinate member of the secret organization Aurora Order, a Supplicant.

“There is enough evidence showing that he and Hynas Vincent were the ones who sold the Antigonus family notebook to Welch. Those who do not remember Welch may ask Klein.”

“We found several valuable items, including three Sequence potion formulas. They are Sequence 9 Seer, Sequence 9 Apprentice, and Sequence 8 Clown…”

“Our next task is to follow the letters that were not yet destroyed and Sirius’s usual social circle to locate the peripheral members of the Aurora Order who believe in an evil god. The focus is the cultist hidden inside the police department.

“In addition, those who had contact with Hynas must be investigated again.”

Dunn nodded lightly and turned to Klein.

“You heard as well. We have obtained the Clown potion formula, but for the moment, we cannot confirm whether it is genuine. We must wait for feedback from the Sanctuary.

“In the matter involving the Aurora Order, you made the main and crucial contribution. Adding the matter of shooting the Secret Order member, you will not need long to obtain sufficient merits for advancement. However, I must remind you: not everyone is Daly. You must endure your desire. Endure three years. You must not let the Clown potion formula affect your state of mind, lest you lose control.”

Captain, that is because you do not understand the miracle of the acting method… Last night, above the gray fog, I already used divination to preliminarily confirm that the Clown potion formula is correct…

Klein nodded honestly.

“I will control my emotions.”

After that, Siga Teon, the white-haired, black-eyed Midnight Poet with a quiet, serene bearing, said, “We still have not found any clue to the Instigator Tris. I suspect he has already fled Tingen.”

…

One matter after another was exchanged and discussed. Klein left the duty room, found Old Neil, and continued his mysticism lessons. In the afternoon, he headed to his combat teacher Gawain, where he continued basic training in strength, endurance, and overall coordination.

…

At five o’clock, the sunlight remained brilliant.

Klein removed his practice clothes, quickly washed, changed into his original attire, and took a public carriage to Bessik Street.

He had not forgotten the red chimney seen in his dream divination. Nor had he forgotten the man who had bought supplementary ingredients for the Spectator potion at the underground market—a suspected member of the Psychology Alchemists. But neither of those matters could conveniently be investigated with the help of the Nighthawks.

“Number 27, Henry Private Detective Agency… Yes, this is the place.”

Following the newspaper description, Klein found a private detective agency said to be trustworthy.

He put on a mask, lowered his top hat, raised his collar, climbed the stairs, and arrived at the agency on the second floor.

Knock, knock, knock!

He rapped on the half-open door.

“Come in.”

A voice came from inside, as though the speaker had old phlegm caught in his throat.

Carrying his cane, Klein pushed the door open and entered. He saw that the detective agency had a semi-open layout. There were four employees in total, each sitting in a space partitioned by boards.

“Hello. I am Detective Henry. How may I help you?”

A man in a white shirt and black waistcoat came over to greet him.

He held a pipe in his hand. The lines of his face were hard, his eyebrows like sharp swords, while his dark-blue eyes professionally examined his client from top to bottom.

Using his high windbreaker collar to conceal the lower half of his face, Klein said, “I have two matters to commission. I wonder how you calculate your fees.”

“That depends on the difficulty of the matters.”

Detective Henry withdrew his gaze and pointed toward a reception area with a sofa set.

“Let us discuss them over there.”

Klein followed him to the half-partitioned area and sat down on a single sofa. He did not remove his coat, did not take off his hat, and did not remove his mask.

Deliberately lowering and roughening his voice, he said, “The first matter: I need you to investigate which houses in Tingen City have chimneys of this appearance, and determine who the landlords are and who currently lives there.”

While speaking, he took out a folded sheet of paper. Once unfolded, it showed the red chimney and its surrounding scene, marked with color.

This was an image Klein had once again completed by using the special nature of the gray fog and the method of praying to himself.

“This is drawn very well…”

Detective Henry instinctively praised it, then furrowed his brows slightly.

“This commission is not complicated, but it is extremely tedious. It requires a long cycle and many helpers.”

“I understand,” Klein said with a light nod.

Detective Henry pondered for a while.

“Seven pounds. The price for this commission is seven pounds. Also, you must give me at least two weeks.”

“Mm. The second matter: help me find this gentleman and discover his identity. The only information I know is that he occasionally appears at the Dragon Bar in the docks district. Also, do not let him notice. He is extremely sharp and possesses terrifying observational ability.”

Klein took out the second portrait.

He was attempting to make contact with a member of the Psychology Alchemists to see whether he could obtain valuable intelligence or materials—for example, a formula that could be traded with Justice.

“Three pounds. Similar tasks are usually three to four pounds, and your excellent drawing skills will effectively help me and my assistants save time.”

Detective Henry answered with practiced ease.

“Ten pounds in total?”

Klein felt his teeth ache at the price.

Detective Henry took a pull from his pipe.

“Yes. You will need to pay two pounds in advance. Once matters show progress, you will pay another three to five pounds. The remainder will be paid after everything is complete.”

“Then I will come next week to check the progress.”

Klein did not bargain much, so as not to leave a distinctive impression on the detective, who was clearly skilled at observation.

After signing a standard contract, he took out two one-pound notes and handed them over. His private savings were reduced to only one pound and seventeen soli.

Watching the gentleman in a gauze mask, black windbreaker, and high collar leave briskly, Detective Henry smoked his pipe and looked rather puzzled.

“What is he looking for houses with that kind of chimney for?”

“…A painter, I suppose. At least a professional who has studied sketching…”

…

That afternoon, inside Viscount Glaint’s luxurious villa in Backlund.

Accompanied by a maid, Audrey followed etiquette, placed her hand in the host’s, and watched as he kissed the air above it.

“Your beauty fills my salon with radiance.”

Glaint first offered a normal compliment, then lowered his voice.

“That lady has already arrived. She is both a Beyonder and a writer.”