Chapter 17: The Interrogation

Chapter Seventeen
The Interrogation

In Queen’s Borough, inside an unremarkable house.

Xio and Fors casually found seats and sat down. Their eyes scanned the entries written across the surface of the blackboard. Mr. A, dressed in a hooded robe, remained quietly seated alone on the foremost sofa, looking down upon everyone from his elevated position.

“Sequence 8 Sheriff potion formula, 450 pounds…”

Xio silently read out the familiar line, and in her heart, she let out a long breath of relief.

One of the situations she feared most was finally managing to save enough money—only to find that no one was selling the formula anymore.

“I received 400 pounds. Added to my original savings of 150 pounds, that is enough… It is just that the main ingredients afterward will definitely cost another huge sum… Ah, right. Perhaps I can switch circles and see whether any Beyonders are interested in this formula…”

Xio’s spirits suddenly lifted. She felt as though she had found a way to make money.

To be frank, if she had not urgently needed money to purchase ingredients, concoct the potion, and advance, she would certainly not have leaked the formula. On one hand, most people always hoped that the number of Beyonders in their own Sequence would remain few enough, special enough. On the other, when there were more competitors on the same pathway, the price of corresponding ingredients would be driven up considerably. The same was true of later formulas.

After thinking seriously for a while, Xio slowly grew uneasy again, because it was perfectly normal for a formula to remain listed for a long time without selling.

Moreover, the Arbiter pathway belonged to the royal family and the military. It was strictly controlled in all respects. The portion scattered outside basically originated from a small number of fallen nobles, and their formulas rarely formed a complete low- to mid-Sequence pathway. Often there were only one or two formulas among them. Combined with the strict control over main ingredients and the difficulty of obtaining them, very few Beyonders were willing to choose this Sequence.

Xio had mixed within several mysticism circles in Backlund for quite some time, yet she had never discovered another Arbiter apart from herself. On one hand, perhaps the other party concealed themselves very well. On the other, it more or less explained certain problems.

Hoo. Think of Fors. I am already lucky enough. After all this time, she has never encountered any formula following Apprentice…

Seeing Mr. A’s attendant approach, Xio wrote a note stating that she wished to purchase the Sheriff formula and handed it over.

Before long, she was led to the first-floor study. Before entering, she took from the attendant a hooded robe and draped it over herself.

Inside the study, the seller was dressed in the same way. Neither could see the other’s appearance clearly.

“This is the formula for the Sheriff potion. Where is my money?”

The seller pressed one hand on the note atop the desk and asked in a hoarse voice.

Xio took out the cash she had already counted several times and pushed it toward the other party.

After repeatedly checking the authenticity and total amount, the seller finally released the hand pressing down on the formula.

Xio immediately stepped forward and swiftly snatched up the note.

Her gaze went directly to the main ingredients. This was the most important part:

“A pair of Terror Demon Worm eyes, and the right palm of a Silver-white War Bear.”

Both are Beyonder ingredients I know of, but I have never seen anyone sell them…

Xio exhaled and, somewhat melancholy, withdrew from the study and removed the robe.

Returning to the living room and sitting beside Fors, she had completed one cherished wish. Yet she gradually grew worried over that honorific name of unknown origin and the evil spirit that might be entangling her.

“Ten—no, twenty pounds. No, thirty pounds. Hire someone skilled at exorcism to perform a purification ritual for me.”

Xio made up her mind, exchanged a few whispered words with Fors, and waved over Mr. A’s attendant.

When the rest period for free exchanges ended, they saw that among the entries on the blackboard was the one they had just submitted:

“Suspected evil spirit haunting. Seeking a friend skilled at exorcism to assist. 30 pounds.”

After some time, Mr. A’s attendant came to the side of the two ladies and softly invited them to the first-floor sitting room.

Inside waited a man wearing a white hard-shell mask. He looked at the two supplicants, both dressed in loose robes, their genders indistinguishable, and laughed softly.

“I will first give a preliminary introduction of myself, so that you do not doubt my ability.”

“No, no need. We trust Mr. A,” Xio, whose face was hidden by her hood, said before Fors could speak.

She deliberately lowered her voice, lest her childlike tone expose her identity.

The man in the white hard-shell mask spread his hands and smiled.

“This is my habit. I am a believer of the Sun. You know, in Backlund, in the entire kingdom, that is not very common.

“Only at times like this can I live under my true identity.”

Because of the enormous contradiction between the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun and the Church of the Lord of Storms, the former had never been granted the right to preach in the Loen Kingdom.

“A believer of the Sun?”

Fors’s languid gaze instantly disappeared.

“This is my first time seeing a living Sun believer! Uh… diplomats of higher status are not people I get to meet.”

“Should I feel honored, then?”

The man in the white hard-shell mask opened his arms and lifted them upward, making a gesture of praising the Sun.

Fors did not answer his question. Instead, she smiled and said, “In the areas of exorcism and purification, servants of the Sun are professionals. We are very reassured. You may begin.”

The man who called himself a Sun believer said no more. He took out an emblem painted with the symbol of the Sun and placed it on the round table in the center. Then, using the dualistic ritual method, he lit two candles.

After completing the preliminary steps in proper order, he recited in a broad, unusually devout voice:

“O Eternal Blazing Sun;

“You are the Light that never fades;

“You are the embodiment of order.

“I pray to You;

“I pray that You grant me the radiance of purification;

“I pray that You dispel evil spirits.”

…

Amid the echoing Hermes incantation, Xio and Fors saw pure, warm, brilliant light burst forth from the Sun emblem.

It flowed endlessly, transforming into a tide that surged toward the two of them and submerged them at the same time.

Dozens of seconds later, everything returned to normal. Xio and Fors felt warmth all through their bodies, extraordinarily comfortable, extraordinarily at ease—as though they had soaked in a hot spring, or enjoyed a sunbath.

…

Cherwood Borough, Rice Police Station.

Klein was squeezed together with a group of thieves and drunkards on a very low wooden bench, looking extremely undignified.

Suddenly, he felt warmth pass over the back of his hand, and the damp chill of Backlund’s night was dispersed by quite a bit.

Lowering his head, Klein discovered that the four black dots symbolizing the mysterious space above the gray fog had not appeared.

“Who is so kind that they knew I was a little cold just now…”

He half joked, half muttered in puzzlement.

As someone who had once been an inspector, he glanced at the thief handcuffed to a pipe on his left, then at the drunk on his right who might vomit at any moment yet kept shouting that he wanted to beat someone. He could not help sighing over his present circumstances, not knowing when he would be able to extricate himself.

“There should be one more test next. Once I pass it, I will have succeeded… I hope the police keep their attention on the ambassador and the Zmanger gang, and ignore the background of a tiny detective like me. In theory, the chances are very good, as long as Madam Sammer, Solicitor Jurgen, and the others did not say anything that might interest the police… Mm, they have only just met me as well. It is impossible for them to know too much…

“Meursault’s Beyonder characteristic was taken by me and hidden above the gray fog. His own body has no strange traces left behind. No one can discover that he was once a Beyonder, and they therefore will not suspect my strength… Mm… It has been more than an hour…”

As Klein consoled himself, he saw the sergeant from earlier, the one with a short yellowish-brown beard beneath his chin, walk over.

“Sherlock Moriarty, follow me to the interrogation room,” the sergeant ordered without explanation.

It is here…

Klein said inwardly and rose to follow.

After turning a corner, the sergeant stopped before an iron door and gestured for Klein to enter.

Klein inhaled, then slowly exhaled. He turned the handle and opened the door.

Inside was a cramped room. The surrounding walls seemed exceedingly thick. In the middle was a small table, with chairs on each side.

Beneath the elegant light of the gas lamp on the wall, Klein clearly saw the interrogator opposite him: a man wearing a rare black shirt.

He wore no waistcoat, only a non-formal black outer coat. His eyebrows were sparse, his blue eyes cold, and the lines of his face looked like blade edges—so hard that they lacked adequate softness.

The man pointed to the chair opposite him and said in a deep voice, “I ask. You answer.”

Before he even finished speaking, Klein felt an unimaginable pressure descend. It was as though currents of electricity had appeared inside his mind, joining into barbed whips that constantly lashed his soul.

That “taste” was painful and numbing, as though it came from the depths of his brain. It was impossible to resist. One could only tremble, knees softening.

Klein nearly fell. He hurriedly supported himself against the small table and sat down, while his temples throbbed again and again.

This… This is a Beyonder ability…

An ordinary person might think just now was a mental problem caused by nervousness and the interrogator’s authority. But Klein clearly recognized that this was a Beyonder ability—a Beyonder ability that directly attacked another person’s spirit.

He quickly recalled the materials he had read before and swiftly confirmed the likely target:

Sequence 7 of the Arbiter pathway—Interrogator.

The matter was transferred to the military’s special department?

Klein felt slightly reassured.

As long as it is not the Nighthawks, everything is manageable.

“Identify these photographs. Find the ambassador who met with Meursault.”

The cold, hard man dressed entirely in black spread seven or eight black-and-white photographs across the small table.

Klein felt as though the electrical whips inside his spirit were raised high, using the warning of extreme pain to make him unable and unwilling to lie.

Of course, Klein had no need to lie. After only brief identification, he pushed one photograph toward the interrogator. It was precisely that middle-aged gentleman whose clothing was so magnificent it bordered on flamboyant, and whose appearance carried a distinctive charm.

The interrogator glanced once, showed no reaction, and asked again, “Was your previous statement entirely true?”

Klein, as though he were being forced into a dream, remained awake and rational. He did not submit to the “whips” within his mind and answered sincerely, “It was all true.”

The interrogator leaned forward and braced both hands on the small table.

“When did you last see Ian Wright?”

“Yesterday. Yesterday morning,” Klein said with difficulty, beads of cold sweat seeping from his forehead. “I followed Meursault and found Detective Zeriel’s corpse. Because I did not want to deal with the police, after taking Ian to identify the body, I let him report it himself. Zeriel’s corpse is in the sewer entrance at the bottom of Iron-and-Carbon Street in the East Borough, the one reached by turning right.”

After a brief silence, the interrogator finally nodded. Klein immediately felt the immense pressure and the “whips” within his mind vanish together.

“You may leave,” the interrogator instructed in a tone without the slightest fluctuation.

Klein stood and opened the door, not concealing the unsteadiness in his steps.

He felt that this was more exhausting than fighting Meursault. With even a slight mistake, his mind would have been completely crushed. Whatever the other party asked, he would have answered honestly.

No. If not for the special nature of my Spirit Body, and the long-term test of ravings and screams that allows me to maintain calm and reason under certain conditions, I probably would have collapsed just now…

Klein returned to the corridor, cold sweat chilling his back.

At that moment, the previous sergeant came over and said, “Come with me to handle the procedures. Solicitor Jurgen is waiting to bail you out.”

Hoo…

Klein exhaled inwardly and finally relaxed completely.

He knew the danger had finally passed.