Chapter 30: The Restoration Society

Chapter 30: The Restoration Society

Arriving at the door, Walter borrowed the light of the gas streetlamp and looked through the gaps in the iron railings. He discovered that there was no one outside at all, and that the street was completely quiet.

For an instant, Walter suspected he might have misheard—that perhaps there had never been any doorbell just now.

He steadied himself, then quickly walked toward the servants’ quarters behind the small building and woke several people. He had them take up double-barreled hunting rifles and patrol the main house, back and forth, to prevent thieves or robbers from sneaking in.

Walter did not immediately call the police, because nothing had yet happened. The doorbell might merely have been rung by some vagrant playing a prank.

At the same time, in the nearest sewer, the previous intruder supported himself on the metal handles, descending level by level into the dim, lightless area.

Before long, he stopped. Leaning his back against the moss-covered wall, he slowly slid downward and sat on the filthy ground.

His eyes closed again, as if he were still unconscious. In front of him, a middle-aged gentleman wearing an old tricorn hat and a dark-red coat instantly appeared. It was Klein’s marionette, the Wraith Senor.

Senor bent down and searched the intruder’s inner pockets, finding 7 soli and 11 pence in coins, as well as several small cloth packets containing different powders.

Inside his room, Klein remotely controlled the marionette dozens of meters away and identified those powders one by one. He found, as expected, that they were all powdered herbs from the domain of necromancy, and that some of them could be used for spirit channeling.

Beyonders from Balam had a fairly high chance of belonging to the Corpse Collector pathway. Even if they had not yet reached Sequence 7, Spirit Medium, it was quite normal for them to prepare corresponding herbal powders, essential oils, and hydrosols. After all, such materials were not used only for spirit channeling.

Immediately afterward, Klein controlled the marionette Senor and swiftly set up a ritual, praying to the Fool.

Then he went above the gray fog and responded, enabling the other party to complete what came next.

Having done all this, he returned to the real world, continued controlling the Wraith Senor, and truly began the spirit channeling.

Passing through a storm of dim light, Klein saw the intruder’s spirit. It was muddled, blurry, and translucent.

“What is your name? Which force do you belong to?” Senor asked in a low voice.

The intruder answered dully, “Godopos. I belong to the Black Skull Party.”

The Black Skull Party… I think that is a gang operating on the edge of the East Borough and the area near the docks in the Backlund Bridge area. It is mainly made up of people with Balam blood. Although they are not as savage and reckless as the Zmanger Gang, who dare to fight and kill at will, they are still ruthless, fierce, and unafraid to murder…

As Klein recalled the information he had once gathered, he made Senor continue asking, “What do you mainly do? Why are you looking for Richardson?”

Godopos answered in a daze, “We are fighting for God.

“We were originally members of the East Balam Restoration Society. The Black Skull Party was established to gather intelligence and obtain funds. In addition to those duties, it has another task: to collect various items related to Death and send them back to the Southern Continent.

“This time, we obtained reliable information that Count Wolf’s collection contains a mask taken from the mausoleum of the Eggers family. That family is descended from God.

“To obtain that mask, we need to send someone into Count Wolf’s household to work, or mix into the banquets and balls he hosts. Richardson is a very suitable candidate. He has no record of involvement with any organizations and has abundant experience as a servant.”

Servants in noble households are often inherited from generation to generation. It isn’t that easy to slip inside… Unless they temporarily need a large number of hands and hire for a short term…

Come to think of it, that really does happen. At the ball tonight, a lady mentioned that a small number of nobles in poor financial condition have sold many lands and manors and dismissed almost all their servants, keeping fewer than ten to barely maintain a dignified life. When large banquets or balls are needed, they spend money to hire a batch of temporary workers through organizations such as the Helping Household Servants Association…

Also, Count Wolf actually has a mask from the family of Death’s descendants. I remember Mr. Azik’s surname is Eggers… What a pity. I currently do not want to be disturbed by accidents. Otherwise, perhaps I would try to obtain that mask for Mr. Azik…

Klein silently muttered a few words, then made Senor continue asking, “How did you come to know Richardson?”

Godopos said dully, “We knew each other on an estate in East Balam. Back then, we were all slaves.

“Among the slaves, some people quietly spread the faith of Death. In that life, I, Richardson, and his mother inevitably became believers of Death and secretly joined that organization, which had great influence among slaves.

“Later, Richardson’s mother fell ill and died. He was brought to Backlund, while I stayed in East Balam and found a chance to escape the estate.

“A few years later, I was sent to Backlund. By chance, I met Richardson again. He—he had actually forgotten his mother’s death, forgotten the abuse he once suffered, forgotten his faith in God. His will had been corroded by this so-called peaceful life!

“To avoid me, he deliberately made mistakes and changed employers three times in a row. But how could he have imagined that his former companion was no longer an ordinary person?”

Everyone has the right to choose, so long as they do not harm others. Still, Richardson and I are two different kinds of people…

Inside his room, Klein closed his eyes briefly and made Senor ask in a low voice, “What is the name of the organization with great influence among the slaves?”

Godopos hesitated for a moment before saying, “The Immortality Society. Those who believe in Death will obtain eternal life in the Underworld after leaving the painful real world.”

The Immortality Society… I know that. It’s a branch of the Numinous Episcopate…

As someone once born from the Nighthawks, Klein understood this quite well.

He continued controlling his marionette, Senor, to question the other party. He obtained a large amount of intelligence concerning the Immortality Society, the East Balam Restoration Society, and the Black Skull Party, confirming that Godopos and his group had their hands soaked in the blood of innocents.

After ending the spirit channeling, cleaning up the traces, and waiting for two quarters of an hour, Klein once again had the Wraith enter Godopos’s body. Controlling the “hostage” through possession, he had him climb out of the sewer and return to the shadows by the street.

At that moment, inside No. 160 Böklund Street, the servants holding double-barreled hunting rifles were no longer patrolling as attentively as before. They seemed to believe the hidden danger had already passed.

Klein pretended to have noticed nothing, still sleeping in the master bedroom. In truth, however, he had arranged a ritual, summoned himself, responded to himself, and, bringing Azik’s copper whistle, the iron cigarette case, and Creeping Hunger with him, silently left the house in the form of a Wraith-like shadow.

He tailed Godopos, always maintaining a distance of eighty meters. By doing so, he controlled the “hostage” possessed by the marionette, making him detour to another block and board a hired carriage at the intersection.

More than an hour later, “Godopos” returned to the Black Skull Party’s headquarters, a small house near the docks.

A large quantity of firearms was hidden inside, along with several members sent by the East Balam Restoration Society. They formed the upper ranks of the Black Skull Party.

Following the agreed method, “Godopos” knocked on the door and said to the member who came to meet him, “Richardson has yielded.”

“Very good.” The member glanced at Godopos without much attention, stepped aside, and let him pass.

“Godopos” looked around and saw high-performance explosives they had previously purchased stacked in a corner, together with a batch of rifles. Several senior members of the Black Skull Party had gathered together, discussing something unknown.

“Godopos, want one?” The member from earlier handed over a cigarette.

This was a Southern Continent-style cigarette, made directly from sun-dried tobacco leaves wrapped with a small amount of medicinal herbs.

Godopos accepted it, casually picked up the matches on the table, drew out several, and struck them alight with a rasp.

Then he threw the burning matches toward the corner—toward a flammable explosive placed beside the high-performance explosives.

“…”

Everyone present stared woodenly at Godopos, for a brief moment unable to react to what had just happened.

Rumble!

Dozens of meters away, Klein sat on a roadside bench with his back to the house, where flames surged upward and waves of heat rolled out.

A few seconds later, Senor, dressed in his dark-red coat, appeared beside him, bearing slight traces of burns.

The Wraith pressed a hand to his chest and bowed, then immediately returned to the surface of the gold coin inside the iron cigarette case.

What a pity. I can’t pick up the Beyonder characteristics, or it won’t look like an accident… It would also be suspicious if the Black Skull Party’s higher-ups had no Beyonders at all…

Klein sighed inwardly. He erased his traces, ended the summoning, and returned directly above the gray fog.

The next morning, as though nothing had happened, he got up, washed, and waited for his personal valet to enter and dress him in his outer clothing.

Richardson entered in silence and skillfully completed his work.

Then he stepped back, lowered his head, and said, “Sir, after serving you through this week, I would like to resign.”

Normally, he received his salary weekly from the housekeeper, Taneja.

“Why?” Klein looked at himself in the mirror, adjusting his vest as he asked.

At the same time, he thought leisurely, Not bad. At least he knows to resign on his own and not bring trouble to his employer…

Richardson had long since prepared an excuse.

“I feel my abilities are not yet sufficient to serve as a personal valet. Last night at the ball, I spoke with the servants of other guests and realized that I still fall far short.”

Klein smiled.

“Everyone grows from having no experience, or very little experience. Think it over again. Give me your final answer tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.” Richardson said nothing more. He voluntarily left the room and went downstairs to fetch the morning newspapers for his employer.

During this process, he would first flip through them and place the most interesting paper on top.

As he was checking them, his gaze suddenly froze, fixing upon a piece of news:

“A violent explosion occurred at 79 Durham Street in the Backlund Bridge area, suspected to be connected to the Black Skull Party…

“According to the police, all senior members of the Black Skull Party died in this accidental explosion, including Lima, Moreira, Godopos…”

This… Richardson shook his head, suspecting that he was dreaming.