Chapter 29: A Good Deed

Chapter 29: A Good Deed

What happened?

Klein’s nerves tightened almost at once.

He had experienced far too many accidents, and he knew very well that supernatural incidents were prone to occur around him. Whenever he encountered anything similar, he could not help reacting with extreme vigilance. It almost felt like a kind of trauma.

He watched Hazel Macht’s back disappear at the stairway with serious attention, and noticed that while her steps were hurried, she was not panicked.

That seems to mean the situation is under her control… And Macht is a member of the House of Commons, a member of the kingdom’s upper class just below the nobility. There is a high chance Beyonders are protecting the area. Mm, Earl Hall’s eldest son is also here. His bodyguard must certainly be a Beyonder… Besides, Saint Samuel Cathedral is only ten or so minutes by carriage from Böklund Street. If anything really happened, Nighthawks, priests, and bishops could arrive at any time… Unless someone has already embraced death, no one would cause an incident at a ball like this…

Klein gradually calmed down and arrived at another guess regarding Hazel’s condition.

She had hurried to the third floor to deal with the negative effects of a mystical item!

When Klein had previously asked Arrodes where he could obtain a mystical item capable of stealing other people’s Beyonder powers, one of the answers given by the “Magic Mirror” had been Hazel Macht.

Recalling the scene while they had danced, Hazel’s image quickly reconstructed itself in Klein’s mind, with special emphasis on the different accessories she wore.

Hair ornament, earrings, necklace, brooch, thin gauze gloves… Which one could it be? Klein withdrew his gaze and felt thirsty, so he picked up a glass of water and gulped it down cleanly.

He had just set down the glass when he saw his etiquette teacher, Wahana Heisen, approach with a plate in hand.

This lady wore a red dress, yet did not seem vulgar in the slightest. She gave Dawn Dantes a faint smile and said, “I have noticed you do not seem to enjoy drinking very much.”

“I once allowed drinking to delay a very important matter,” Klein said casually, enriching the experienced, profound image of Dawn Dantes.

Of course, he was restrained enough not to use his Faceless ability to transform one of his fingers and prove just how great his resolve had been back then.

Hearing this, Wahana smiled thoughtfully.

“Your past is full of mysteries. To many young ladies, that has a fatal charm.”

She did not continue that topic. Instead, she said, “I forgot to tell you. My husband’s trouble has been resolved.”

Klein picked up a glass of champagne, raised it slightly toward her, and said with a smile, “That is truly something to be happy about. Congratulations to you both.”

He did not mention at all that he had helped in secret.

Wahana looked deeply at him and likewise raised the red wine in her hand.

“Cheers.”

After they lightly touched glasses and each took a sip, Klein politely excused himself, set down his glass, and turned toward the washroom.

It was not because he wished to go above the gray fog. It was purely because the negative effect of the Death Knell revolver had made him drink too much water, and he now needed to relieve himself.

When he walked out of the washroom, Klein again looked up at the stairway from the second floor to the third. He saw Hazel Macht descending step by step. Her footsteps were no longer hurried, and her expression was calm and undisturbed.

As expected, there’s no major problem… It should be the negative effect of her mystical item… I wonder what the effect is…

Klein let out a breath of relief. He casually swept a glance over the dance floor and, during the brief pause as the music changed, walked toward a lady and invited her to dance.

With Dawn Dantes’s appearance and bearing, there was naturally no possibility of rejection.

And so, amid dancing, eating, chatting, and more eating, the ball slowly approached its end. Guests began taking their leave one after another.

Klein, who had already completed the task of exchanging calling cards, did the same. He was neither the first to depart nor the last.

The hall quickly grew quiet. Madam Liana supervised the servants as they cleaned up, then beckoned her daughter, Hazel Macht, over.

“Mr. Dawn Dantes performed much better than I had imagined. Just now, quite a few ladies privately asked me about him.” Madam Liana spoke with subtlety. “Hazel, you danced and spoke with Mr. Dantes earlier. What do you think of him? You are far more mature than girls your age, and I trust your eye and judgment.”

She understood her daughter very well, so she deliberately added the latter half. Otherwise, Hazel might not have been interested in giving a detailed answer.

Before her mother, Hazel was not quite so haughty. After thinking briefly, she said, “He is not very familiar with this circle and easily brings up topics that might offend others, but he is very knowledgeable.”

“Very knowledgeable…” Madam Liana repeated her daughter’s words, somewhat surprised.

With her understanding of Hazel, this was already an extremely high evaluation.

She could not help feeling a little worried, afraid that her daughter might fall for Dawn Dantes.

Hazel looks down on all the eligible gentlemen around her because they are too young, too shallow, and not capable enough? Dawn Dantes happens to be precisely the type an unusually mature young girl might like…

Liana suddenly regretted inviting that gentleman to the ball.

She knew that, with Hazel’s personality, if she fell in love and met with opposition, she might very well do something like elope.

Hazel seemed to detect her mother’s thoughts. Without any emotional fluctuation, she said, “I only like men who are powerful enough.”

Whew… Liana secretly breathed out, no longer concerned about the problem from earlier. Hazel was a girl who disdained lying.

…

Deep in the night, Hazel rose from bed and, relying on her night vision, changed into clothes convenient for movement.

She climbed down from the balcony of her bedroom, carefully avoiding the family’s bodyguards, then quietly slipped out of the garden and made her way to the middle section of Böklund Street. After all, not every sewer entrance was large enough for a human to pass freely through or equipped with vertical metal ladders.

Hazel skillfully moved aside the manhole cover, climbed down, and closed it again from the inside.

Almost three quarters of an hour later, she moved the cover once more and returned to the shadows of the street.

At that very moment, Hazel saw a dark figure nimbly vault into a garden not far away.

“No. 160…” she murmured the corresponding house number.

That was Dawn Dantes’s home.

On the third floor of the house, Klein once again woke from his dream because of his spiritual intuition. He had an intense urge to seize the intruder who had interrupted his sleep and feed him to Creeping Hunger.

This time, he directly opened the iron cigarette case and released his Wraith marionette.

Senor’s figure, dressed in a dark-red coat, first walked into the full-length mirror, then leaped to the bay window glass of the personal valet’s room.

He looked at Richardson and saw the valet sit up, frightened and tense, staring at the door.

The room door opened soundlessly, and a figure slipped in.

Under the crimson moonlight, the intruder revealed brownish-yellow skin, soft contours, and short black curls. He was clearly a Balamite from the Southern Continent.

Carrying a slight cold aura, he stood at the door, looked at Richardson, and said in a low voice, “Have you thought it through?

“Do not think that by leaving us, you can obtain the peaceful life you desire. The blood of Death’s people flows in your body. You are fated to give everything to restore God’s glory.

“Think of your dead mother. Think of the bullying you once suffered. Do you wish your children to grow up under others’ discriminatory gazes and forever serve as other people’s servants?”

“…But what can I do…” Richardson lowered his head and spoke with difficulty.

“Wait for the mission assigned to you,” the intruder’s voice softened a little.

Richardson did not answer yes or no. His heart seemed to still be struggling.

The intruder paid no attention to his hesitation and took it as agreement. He turned directly, withdrew from the room, and left by the way he had come.

“Death’s people… The Numinous Episcopate, or another Balam restoration organization?” Klein, who had witnessed everything just now, reclined on his bed and muttered soundlessly. “What mission will they give Richardson? Steal my money and provide funds to the organization? Or create a terrorist incident at some upper-class banquet?”

By now, the intruder had climbed down from the large balcony, crossed the garden, vaulted over the outer wall with its iron railings, and returned to the street.

Suddenly, he saw a figure pounce at him from the left. He hurriedly dodged, clenched his fist, and struck with force.

Bang!

His fist hit the dark figure, but passed right through it, as if he had struck a shadow formed by gas lamplight.

At the same time, the back of his head suffered a heavy blow, and his entire person immediately collapsed unconscious to the ground.

Hazel’s figure then appeared behind and to the side of the intruder. Her expression was slightly excited, as though she had completed a successful deception.

She quickly reined in her emotions, maintaining her proud posture as she turned to glance at the black iron gate of No. 160 Böklund Street.

The young lady bent down, grabbed the intruder by the arm, and dragged him step by step to Dawn Dantes’s door.

Then Hazel released her left hand, erased her traces, lifted her chin slightly, took two steps forward, and rang the doorbell.

After that, she straightened her back and swiftly left, returning home through the shadows along the street.

Meanwhile, on a gas streetlamp outside No. 160, upon the glass surface encased in black metal bars, the figure wearing a dark-red coat and an old tricorn hat was quietly reflected. He had watched the entire process.

…

How should I deal with this… Klein thought with some difficulty inside his room.

He knew Hazel had kindly helped her neighbor deal with an intruder and had chosen not to leave her name. But in this way, once the butler called the police and the matter was investigated in depth, it would certainly be handed over to the Nighthawks. By then, who had knocked the intruder unconscious would become an important question.

If Klein were truly an ordinary person, there would be no issue. The Nighthawks could investigate as they pleased. But not only was he a Sequence 5 Beyonder, he was also plotting to steal something from behind Chanis Gate. He did not want his plans interrupted by an accident, forcing him to change identities again.

To be honest, his first thought had been to find an excuse to dismiss Richardson.

However, the conversation he had just heard made him waver somewhat.

If I dismiss Richardson now, then he, who yearns for a peaceful life, will be personally pushed by me into the abyss. He’ll have no choice but to entangle himself with those people… What a pity. Dawn Dantes’s identity has a “mission.” Otherwise, giving him a helping hand would not be a major issue…

Klein sighed inwardly.

Ten or so seconds later, the unconscious intruder at the door suddenly stood, moved his neck, and hid in the nearby shadows. At this time, Butler Walter, having heard the doorbell, had just put on a coat and walked out of the main building.