Chapter 18: Attraction?

Chapter 18: Attraction?

Having read many magazines, Klein knew that the circles he wished to enter frequently held balls, so Butler Walter’s suggestion did not surprise him. He nodded.

“Very well.”

After speaking, he turned to his personal valet Richardson.

“Prepare the carriage. I am going to Saint Samuel Cathedral.”

Klein remembered very clearly that his primary goal was to play the part of a devout believer of the Evernight Goddess, come into contact with the corresponding clergy, and thereby find an opportunity to slip into Chanis Gate. Therefore, whenever he had time, he intended to visit the cathedral, pray, show sincerity, and become a familiar face.

“Yes, sir,” Richardson replied respectfully.

Before long, dressed in a coat and top hat, Klein boarded the rented luxury four-wheeled carriage. While enjoying the scenery along the road, he sipped black tea with a slice of lemon.

In truth, there was a small bar inside the carriage, stocked with distilled liquors such as Golden Langqi and Winter Highland, along with red and white wines from Intis, all prepared by Butler Walter.

However, Klein was not particularly fond of alcohol. As a Beyonder, he also disliked the feeling of being drunk, as it easily reminded him of losing control. Therefore, using the excuse that one could not drink alcohol when going to church, he instructed his valet Richardson to prepare a pot of Marquis black tea in advance.

“If possible, I would actually prefer a glass of sweet iced tea. That is the taste of the south,” Klein said to Richardson half-jokingly.

“I will prepare it next time,” Richardson immediately replied.

Klein shook his head with a smile.

“No, there is no need. It is not dignified enough.

“Once I become familiar with the neighbors here, I will hold a dinner with Desi characteristics. Prepare sweet iced tea then. Heh, I imagine their children will like it very much.”

Seeing that he had misunderstood his employer’s meaning, Richardson said rather nervously, “I will remember that.”

From No. 160 Böklund Street to Saint Samuel Cathedral on Phelps Street, it took only about twenty minutes to walk. If not for the sake of propriety, and if he had not already rented carriages and hired coachmen, Klein would have preferred to walk there, digest his food, and strengthen his body.

Soon, the carriage stopped at the edge of the square outside the cathedral. Klein took his gold-inlaid cane, stepped down, and paused for a while to admire the dance of the white pigeons.

After entering the cathedral and arriving at the grand prayer hall, he handed his top hat and cane to Richardson and found a seat near the aisle. Lowering his head, clasping his hands, he began to pray seriously and quietly.

Richardson sat slightly behind him to the side, placed the various items properly, glanced at the dark Sacred Emblem upon the altar, and likewise closed his eyes.

In the tranquil, serene atmosphere, Klein felt his spirituality undergo a slight diffusion. He was not surprised by this. Believers praying inside a church would all experience something similar: small amounts of spirituality, accompanied by devout faith, converged drop by drop, providing power for the seal behind Chanis Gate beneath the cathedral.

After some unknown length of time, his spiritual intuition was suddenly stirred. Quietly, he opened his eyes and covertly looked diagonally ahead.

There stood an old man in a clergyman’s black robe. His hair was sparse and frost-white, and his face was as pale as a corpse.

From a distance, his aura was cold and gloomy, his expression lacking. In a certain sense, he blended with the dim, faintly lit environment of the grand prayer hall.

An internal caretaker… Klein needed only one glance to make the judgment. He closed his eyes and resumed his prayers, though he had already memorized the other man’s facial features:

A large nose, gray-blue eyes, loose facial skin, and no beard.

At that moment, the old man dressed as a clergyman also sat down and began to pray earnestly to the Goddess. Within the entire prayer hall, only a few openings high upon the front wall allowed pure light to shine in, like brilliant stars, making the dark environment seem gentle and sacred.

Time passed second by second. Once again, Klein’s spiritual intuition was stirred.

He cautiously opened his eyes and saw the black-robed internal caretaker leave his seat and enter the passage at the side.

That should lead to the rear of the cathedral… Do the internal caretakers all live inside the cathedral? Do they have no relatives, no families, no residences of their own? Judging from their condition, that does not seem too surprising. And for those who guard the inside of Chanis Gate, being placed under the supervision of the bishops is also a normal measure…

This means I truly must become friends with the bishops and priests of Saint Samuel Cathedral and obtain the chance to freely enter the rear areas of the cathedral…

Klein did not look for long. He closed his eyes and pondered the various issues.

After quite a while, he slowly rose and walked toward the altar, stopping before the donation box. Taking out 50 pounds in cash, he devoutly placed it inside.

This made the bishop and priests on duty that day all look over, their gazes turning friendly as they committed his appearance to memory.

After completing all this, Klein gave the clergy a slight nod, turned, and walked along the aisle toward the exit. Richardson followed behind him, holding his hat and cane.

Leaving the grand prayer hall, he walked among exquisite murals and beams of light piercing through the colored glass high above, heading toward the main doors.

At that moment, several figures entered from outside. The one in the lead was a middle-aged man with deep, long hair at his temples and gentle facial contours. He wore a black trench coat, no gloves, and carried no cane.

Slightly behind him to the left was a young man likewise dressed in a black trench coat. He had black hair and green eyes, with handsome features, though his hairstyle was rather casual, as if he had not carefully combed it after rising that morning.

Klein was exceptionally familiar with his appearance and silhouette, yet at the same time, he felt an illusion of not having seen him for years, even decades.

Leonard Mitchell!

Klein’s pupils contracted slightly, but his feet did not pause in the slightest. Maintaining the same rhythm and stride as before, he walked toward the black-trench-coated men.

Yes, Klein was certain they were Nighthawks!

As they brushed past one another, he casually swept his gaze over Leonard and the others, then passed by them and continued toward the doors.

The doors stood open. Outside, the layers of cloud were thin, the sunlight pure, and white pigeons wheeled in flight.

Leonard Mitchell also glanced, as if out of boredom, at the believers passing by. Then he withdrew his gaze and sighed.

“I hope we can stay in Backlund for a few more days this time and rest properly. This case was not only dangerous and exciting, but required us to stay tense at every moment.”

Their Red Gloves team had just cracked a case involving devils that wore human skin, capturing two of the targets.

On the surface, it might have seemed easy, but in reality, it had not been simple at all. They had encountered many setbacks and counterattacks before completing the mission with difficulty. Every team member was not only physically exhausted but mentally drained.

Their captain, Soest, shook his head and smiled.

“This is the life of us Red Gloves. You should have known that when you chose to join.

“Still, congratulations. This time, you can advance to Spirit Warlock.”

Leonard Mitchell curled his lips and smiled.

“That’s slower than I imagined. Also, Captain Soest, you can finally—finally—reach Sequence 5.”

“This is not a problem with the Church. If I had been able to endure it well, I could have become a Spirit Shaman five years ago,” Soest said, his smile fading as he walked toward the grand prayer hall. “Go pray to the Goddess. It can effectively relieve your mental pressure and help restore your spiritual state.”

As he spoke, the Red Gloves team entered the dim, quiet hall and each found a place to sit.

Leonard was just about to focus on praying when he suddenly heard a slightly aged voice sound in his mind.

“That person just now has some problem.”

“Who?” Leonard lowered his head and asked in a suppressed voice.

The slightly aged voice replied, “One of the people you met at the door. I am parasitizing your body, and my strength has not recovered, so I could not see too clearly.”

Leonard recalled the scene and asked quietly, “What problem?”

“He carries an ancient aura,” the voice in Leonard’s mind said simply.

“A Beyonder who has lived for a very long time?” Leonard muttered. “I’ll try to investigate.”

At the same time, he thought inwardly:

The old man is definitely hiding something. He rarely takes the initiative to remind me that someone has a problem, yet speaks so vaguely… Once I find the target, if I confirm there’s no immediate danger, I’ll leave it alone for the time being. Otherwise, I might get dragged into a struggle among those undying monsters from the Fourth Epoch… If that person really will bring disaster, I’ll report it directly to the archbishop…

…

In a house in the Cherwood Borough.

“This is the money I borrowed from you earlier.” Fors handed Xio the 220 pounds she owed.

She had already received 100 pounds from Mr. Moon and 500 pounds from Madam Hermit.

Xio Derecha grabbed at her messy, not-quite-smooth blond hair, looked at the money, then looked up at Fors and blurted, “You really took part in illegal gambling?

“I must tell you, that kind of gambling is definitely a scheme and a trap. They let you win only so you’ll lose even more! Although you are a Trickmaster and might have a chance to deceive them, gambling dens like that very likely hide other Beyonders!”

“Stop, stop, stop!” Fors pressed both hands downward, amused and annoyed. “Do I look like the kind of person who would take part in illegal gambling?”

“Yes!” Xio answered without hesitation. “If I hadn’t stopped you, you wouldn’t have only smoked. You would have wanted to smoke cannabis too!”

That was because the pain from the ravings during the full moon made me seek numbness. It’s not like that anymore… Fors did not argue with Xio. Instead, she explained directly, “I sold some of the mysticism knowledge I had at a Beyonder gathering. Heh, that person was very generous and offered several hundred pounds.”

“So that’s it…” Xio instantly threw the previous issue to the back of her mind and said instead, “A new Beyonder gathering has appeared in the East Borough recently. I’ve been invited.”

“A new Beyonder gathering?” Fors was startled at first, then could not help feeling some expectation.

From certain words of her teacher, Dorian Gray, and Mr. Fool, she knew that Louis Wayne was an envoy of the Aurora Order. This time, he had likely come to Backlund to replace the previously missing Mr. A and rebuild the Aurora Order’s forces in the metropolis. Therefore, there was a decent chance that he would disguise himself and create a new Beyonder gathering.

After thinking for a moment, Fors asked Xio in an apparently casual tone, “Are you going to attend?”

“Of course. I need to prepare the Interrogator potion formula,” Xio answered decisively.

Fors nodded, covered her mouth, and yawned.

“When you’re qualified to invite new members, remember to bring me along.”