Chapter 67: The First Step

Chapter Sixty-Seven
The First Step

In a corner of the East Borough.

Gene, drunk enough to sway, faced the wall, pulled down his trousers, and comfortably nourished the moss.

After he had finished, someone suddenly patted his shoulder.

Gene shuddered several times. Hurriedly pulling up his trousers, he half turned and looked back, only to see a short boy in a canvas jacket and a peaked cap.

That “boy” lifted his head, revealing a face that, though filthy beyond recognition, was soft and delicate.

“Xio? Why are you dressed like that?” Gene blurted out in astonishment.

Xio raised her index finger and pressed it before her lips, signaling for him to keep quiet.

Then she lowered her voice and said, “I ask, you answer. Keep your voice down.”

Awed by that dignified pressure, Gene had only one thought left: nod.

“Among the people Williams knew, who else died these past two days?” Xio asked in a deep voice.

Gene used his alcohol-numbed brain to recall carefully for a while before saying, “Gavin! Gavin was found drowned in the Tussock River this morning!

“He probably fell in last night. Poor fellow didn’t know how to swim at all, and he liked going to the riverbank to catch the wind after drinking.”

Xio’s gaze sharpened instantly. Without thinking, she pressed, “Did Gavin accept Williams’s commission—the commission to search for the wanted criminal Lanevus?”

“Of course. All of us received that commission from Williams. Anyway, anyway, it wasn’t any troublesome thing. We only had to show the portrait to everyone we knew and ask them to pay attention to anyone similar. That was it, that was it. Oh, Williams—he said, he said that if there were clues, he’d treat me to three days of drink and three days of meat! Poor fellow, he actually died in a gas explosion. So, so I absolutely refuse to let the landlord install gas pipes! Uh… that was months ago. Now I can only afford a cheap inn.”

Gene rambled on and on.

“What area was Gavin responsible for? Did he mention anything to you?” Xio turned her head to glance nearby. She pressed her lips together, then stared at Gene’s face and asked.

“He—he usually went around the East Balam Dock in the Dock Borough. Yesterday evening, he even met me and said he had gone to the Workers’ Union Tavern there and spread the news of looking for Lanevus. He showed the people present Lanevus’s portrait,” Gene said with a drunken hiccup.

Backlund had many docks. Most of them were designated as part of the Dock Borough and named as various docks.

“And afterward? Did Gavin say what he planned to do afterward?” Xio frowned in puzzlement and asked again.

“Of course—of course he drank! He planned to drink properly, then find someplace to sleep! Oh, that poor fellow must have gotten too hot from drinking and decided to bathe in the river, only to forget that he didn’t know how to swim. And it is almost winter!”

Gene sighed with pity once again.

This…

Gavin did not find anything at all. He only went to the Workers’ Union Tavern at East Balam Dock and spread “leaflets” about looking for Lanevus, yet he was murdered, and Williams was dragged into it as well…

The killer’s reaction can no longer be described as excessive. It is simply madness…

If I were Lanevus, the best and simplest choice would be to move immediately and avoid the search. Unless—unless he has fallen into some matter and cannot leave for a long time… But I am not the only one looking for him. There are many bounty hunters too. Can he kill Williams, and then kill so many more people? If he has the ability, why not go kill everyone in Sivellaus Yard, the ones who issued the wanted notice?

Xio felt she could not understand the matter at all, just as she could not accept Williams’s death.

In the end, she decided first to report the problem she had encountered to Miss Audrey, then disguise herself and head to the Workers’ Union Tavern at East Balam Dock. She would not ask questions. She would only observe and see whether there were any suspicious people.

…

Cherwood Borough, Rice Police Station.

Once again, Klein was squeezed on a backed bench together with thieves and drunkards.

What bad luck… To actually run into a police inspection and fail to change routes in time. It is all that damned serial killer’s fault!

While cursing a certain fellow, Klein thought about how to hide the charms on him and the herb powders he could not explain, so as to avoid the body search that came next.

He attempted to stuff all of those items into his black glove, then find a chance to tuck it into some hidden spot inside the police station, retrieving it when he left.

Just then, his eyes brightened. He saw the young solicitor Jurgen Cooper, his hair neatly combed back and his attire formal enough for a banquet, walk over accompanied by a police officer.

“Go sign your name, and then you may leave,” Jurgen said with his usual solemn and serious expression.

“That is all?” Klein asked in surprise.

Jurgen gave a slight nod.

“Yes. They know you are a famous detective.”

What kind of reason is that?

Klein did not dare ask further. He immediately stood and followed Jurgen, who wore a black woolen long formal coat, signing his name in an unhurried manner before leaving.

Unlike the weather last time, when Jurgen had led him out of a police station, there was no rain tonight. Only thick clouds and fog covered the crimson moon and the stars, while the street relied entirely on gas lamps on both sides for illumination.

“Truly, thank you! I have troubled you again.”

Klein quickened his steps and came to Jurgen’s side.

Jurgen turned his head expressionlessly and looked at him.

“There is no need to thank me. This is my profession.”

“Two pounds.”

“…”

Klein carefully examined him once, then revealed a smile.

“All right.”

His wallet had recently grown rather full, so he immediately took out two one-pound notes.

Jurgen accepted the payment without any awkwardness.

“If you are willing to establish a formal working relationship, then whenever you come to the police station afterward, I will only charge one pound each time. Of course, that does not include cases of serious criminal circumstances. You must understand that a very large portion of what I charge has to be turned over to the firm.”

You say that as though I will often be invited to the police station for tea… Bah, they do not give tea at all—not even a cup of water!

Before Klein had time to answer, he heard Solicitor Jurgen add, “For a private detective, entering and leaving police stations every so often is something bound to happen. It is part of the profession.”

“Mm. I am very clear. Every private detective has issues such as illegally carrying firearms and illegally entering others’ residences.

“Your response this time was very good. The police cannot find sufficient evidence proving you illegally carried a gun, and your explanation for the gunpowder traces on you was quite convincing. The name Cragg Club was enough to win their trust. Otherwise, you would quite possibly have had to visit the public order court.

“Therefore, you are not a suspect, but a good citizen who found a firearm and voluntarily handed it over. You do not need to be searched further.”

All right… But I lost a revolver and the corresponding bullets. That is several pounds. And there is the solicitor’s fee…

Klein squeezed out a smile.

“I understand. Solicitor Jurgen, let us establish a formal working relationship.”

Jurgen tugged at the corner of his mouth and extended his hand with an extremely professional smile.

“Pleasure doing business.

“I sincerely hope to see you very rarely at police stations.”

That is not something I can decide…

Klein smiled at himself.

…

Back at 15 Minsk Street, Klein used a hot bath to calm himself.

But at that moment, he once again heard the illusory, layered sound of prayer. It vaguely came from a woman.

Miss Justice? Is there a clue regarding Lanevus this time?

Klein abruptly sprang up from the bathtub, quickly dried himself, threw on clothes, and entered above the gray fog in that state.

Looking at the crimson star that continuously expanded and contracted, he extended his spirituality and chose to listen.

“The Fool that does not belong to this era…”

“Honorable Mr. Fool, something has gone wrong in the investigation of Lanevus…”

For some reason, Justice, wearing a white coat, fully and accurately described the explosion on Daravi Street in the East Borough and Gavin’s accidental drowning.

As a newly initiated Telepathist, she did not add her own guesses, avoiding influencing Mr. Fool’s judgment.

After listening seriously to the end, Klein frowned. He felt that the killer’s reaction was excessive to an unimaginable degree.

This is different from Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos. As a swindler, Lanevus’s professional instinct after noticing any disturbance should be to immediately move elsewhere. There is no reason for him to track back and kill the people looking for him.

By that standard, eighty percent of the East Borough’s bounty hunters would have to die. That would cause a sensation and make the case taken over by the Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, or Machinery Hivemind squads!

Mm… Did Lanevus receive some benefit during that ritual praying for the True Creator to descend His child, and did it drive him mad? That would fit the True Creator’s style very well… But the problem is that it is difficult for a madman to hide himself—unless it is only latent…

Klein fell into thought, in no hurry to respond to Miss Justice.

He had read the newspapers and knew of that explosion. Therefore, using dream divination, he recalled the specific content.

Immediately afterward, he wrote a new divination statement:

“Clues to the Daravi Street explosion case.”

As he silently recited it, he leaned back in his chair and entered a dream, seeing a three-story gray-blue apartment building.

On the third floor of that building, one room had lost its windows, half of its wall had collapsed, and traces of the explosion covered everything.

The scene swiftly shattered. Klein woke and tapped the edge of the long table with a finger, muttering to himself without sound.

“The clue is at the crime scene?

“…This revelation could also mean that the killer is still watching the crime scene, intending to deal with anyone who comes to investigate.

“Mm… That way, he would have a chance to find the person who recently issued the bounty on Lanevus.

“I will disguise myself and circle the place. I will not enter the crime scene. I will merely circle around and see whether I can discover the killer. Even if he is not Lanevus, he must have some connection to him, and I can use that to find Lanevus.

“But he is certainly hiding extremely well. How should I find him without drawing his attention?”

As that thought flashed through him, Klein’s gaze shifted toward the entirely black eye lying upon the bronze long table. It was the Beyonder characteristic left behind by the Marionettist Rosago.

In the real world, I cannot use this item to control those strange threads, because of the True Creator’s residual mental contamination. Contact beyond a certain limit will bring irreversible harm. But if I only use it briefly to find hidden people through the threads, I should be able to endure it—just like earlier, when I used it to confirm whether Miss Bodyguard had left…

Klein narrowed his eyes, took down his pendulum, and divined the danger of this trip.

The answer was affirmative, but the rotation was not broad, nor was it fast.

“Acceptable…”

Klein fell silent for several seconds, then returned to the real world.

Afterward, through the method of summoning himself, he placed the entirely black eye inside an iron cigarette case and brought it back to the bedroom.

Having changed clothes, pasted on a beard, and made thorough preparations, Klein came before the full-length mirror and examined himself.

That faint scholarly air had been completely covered by a face full of beard, while his brown eyes seemed like ancient pools, as though hiding and sealing something deep within.

Compared to when he had been in Tingen City, Klein almost failed to recognize himself.

He extended each finger in turn, then clenched them tightly into a fist. Facing the mirror, he said in a deep, hoarse voice, “Captain, this is the first step of vengeance—for you and for me.”

Before his voice had fallen, he saw the self inside the mirror open the corner of his mouth and reveal a brilliant smile.