Chapter 32: Initial Review

Chapter 32: Initial Review

When he heard the illusory, layered voice of prayer, Klein was seated in the four-wheeled carriage, returning from Saint Samuel Cathedral to Böklund Street.

A woman… not especially urgent… With only the roughest judgment available, he could not immediately go above the gray fog to respond.

Sweeping a glance through the window at the gas streetlamps driving away the darkness, Klein withdrew his gaze, lifted the white-glazed porcelain teacup rimmed with gold, and took a small sip.

At his side, Richardson mustered his courage and said, “Sir, I have thought things through. You were right. Everyone grows from having no experience, or very little experience. Thank you for giving me this opportunity to grow.”

After confirming that Godopos and his group had died, he finally stopped worrying and began considering his own career.

For a servant, changing employers repeatedly over a short period was an enormous stain. Once he resigned from Dawn Dantes’s household, Richardson believed it would be very difficult for him to continue working as a personal valet.

To him, that would be a tremendous loss.

It was not only because the annual salary of a personal valet was at least twenty-five pounds, far higher than that of other non-management positions and equal to a lady’s maid. It was also because personal valets and ladies’ maids were the servants with the greatest chance of becoming butlers.

They followed the master or mistress, helped handle trivial affairs, served as their mouthpieces and assistants, and could effectively cultivate their own abilities. Through this, they comprehensively mastered many skills required of a butler and became their employer’s trusted confidants. Once the opportunity arose, they could relatively easily transition into estate stewards, assistant butlers, deputy butlers, and eventually rise step by step to become butlers.

Richardson did indeed long for a peaceful life, but that did not mean he was willing to remain a servant forever. Without question, he hoped to rely on his own efforts to earn more salary and obtain higher status. Becoming butler to a wealthy household was his ultimate goal.

“Understanding now is not too late,” Klein replied with a smile, permitting Richardson to stay.

After returning to 160 Böklund Street, he instructed the housekeeper, Taneja, to have the kitchen prepare him a half-past-eleven supper. Then he went up to the third floor, removed his coat, and entered the bathroom.

By then, the bathtub had already been filled with hot water at the right temperature five minutes in advance by the maid.

Klein did not hurry to bathe. He went above the gray fog and figured out who had prayed to him.

Mr. X… Traveler… Miss Magician is quite efficient… Without noticing it, she has grown too…

Klein muttered to himself for a few moments.

After careful consideration, he manifested the World, Gehrman Sparrow, and had this false figure pray amid the gray fog:

“…Give me the time, location, and more information. Only then can I act.”

Klein’s reasoning was simple. A Traveler’s abilities were extremely useful, but Dawn Dantes could hardly leave Böklund Street for an extended period or remain in his room for too long. If Miss Magician could provide detailed and reliable information, then carrying out one assassination would not affect much. But if she expected the World to slowly gather information from the periphery, that was absolutely impossible. It would interfere with more important matters.

Very soon, the Magician Fors replied:

“…I will gather it as quickly as possible.”

Because Mr. X’s gathering had not yet confirmed when or where it would be held next, she could only wait patiently.

After settling this matter, Klein returned to the real world, undressed, and lay in the bathtub.

Warm water wrapped around him. He narrowed his eyes in comfort, feeling the fatigue of body and mind being washed away bit by bit.

During this period, he had already gone several times to Saint Samuel Cathedral to listen to Bishop Elektra explain The Revelation of Evernight. He had also learned the appearance and characteristics of two more internal caretakers. However, because no repeats had yet appeared, he still could not confirm the pattern by which the caretakers rotated their shifts.

Such behavior also brought trouble. Klein opened his eyes, looked at the mist of water above him, and sighed inwardly.

“The first review should arrive soon…”

Someone who frequently entered the internal areas of Saint Samuel Cathedral would very likely be reviewed by the Nighthawks. And with his origins still not entirely clear, such a thing was almost inevitable.

If they did not perform a review, then for the Nighthawks, it would count as a serious dereliction of duty… Klein slowly exhaled.

…

Beneath Saint Samuel Cathedral, Leonard slowly walked out of a room so quiet it seemed utterly soundless.

His green eyes now looked as though they had been stained by black, eerie water. Countless illusory bubbles and ripples appeared and disappeared within them.

“Not bad. You’ve become a Requiem this quickly. You’re almost catching up to me,” Daly Simone, standing in the corridor, congratulated him with a tone that was half teasing, half self-mocking.

She was still wearing her hooded black robe, with blue eyeshadow and blush that gave her a strange, bewitching beauty.

When Leonard saw this familiar lady, he felt that her aura had grown even colder. It was as if countless shadows hid around her, layer upon layer, deep and icy.

“Clearly, I’m still a long way from you. In your state, you should be ready to advance to Gatekeeper, shouldn’t you?” Leonard did not act too casually in front of Daly and spoke in a rather proper manner, because if he joked with her, the one who ended up blushing and awkward would definitely be him, not the lady.

Gatekeeper was Sequence 5 of the Death pathway.

“I was ready two months ago.” Daly did not conceal it, though her expression twisted slightly.

Leonard more or less understood the reason and nodded.

“You still haven’t accumulated enough merit?”

Daly immediately curled her lips.

“Exactly.

“It’s like already being in bed, everything prepared, only to discover there are no condoms at home, and outside it is nighttime, with most of the shops in the nearby blocks already closed!”

What a miraculous analogy… Leonard did not know how to respond and could only smile.

“You can take the initiative to handle some matters.”

Giving Daly no chance to reply, he pointed toward the other end of the corridor.

“Captain Soest is still waiting for my advancement report.”

Daly said nothing and watched him leave.

Only after his figure vanished around the corner did her expression grow momentarily dazed. She murmured softly, “Captain Soest…”

Inside the room where Leonard’s Red Gloves team was temporarily stationed, Soest, who had recently become a Spirit Shaman, watched his usually casual subordinate enter and immediately tossed him a file.

“Good. You have advanced. I’ll congratulate you later. First, carry out a dream review of this target.”

It was already deep into the night, but to the Nighthawks, whose main force consisted of Sleepless, there was not much difference from daytime. If anything, they were even stronger at night.

“Isn’t this a task for the local Nighthawks?” Leonard caught the file and asked casually.

“They’ve had quite a few things lately and are short on manpower. They asked us to help.” Soest explained without much concern.

Leonard asked no further. He lowered his head and flipped open the file.

The first thing that entered his eyes was a photograph, and the middle-aged gentleman on it left a profound impression on him!

“Dawn Dantes…” Leonard’s pupils abruptly contracted.

He knew this gentleman. He knew that the other party was an undying monster who had survived from the Fourth Epoch, at least at the level of a saint—perhaps even stronger!

And he knows my secret. He knows the old man’s identity… Leonard instinctively raised a hand and rubbed his temple.

“Captain Soest, I just advanced, and my spirituality is still a little out of control.”

“So that’s how it is…” Only then did Soest realize he seemed to have made a mistake. He hurriedly turned toward another Red Glove. “Albert, you do it.”

Albert was a man in his thirties, with yellowish hair, somewhat pale skin, and a body that did not look especially strong.

Leonard breathed a sigh of relief and handed the file over.

At that very moment, his heart suddenly skipped a beat.

Would anything bad happen to Albert if he entered that undying monster’s dream?

For an instant, he felt a little regret, thinking that he should have handled the matter himself. At least he understood the danger and had dealt with the other party before, so he would not rashly offend him.

Dawn Dantes shouldn’t do anything to Albert… If he reacts too violently and causes an abnormality in Albert, then his problem will be exposed before our eyes. With the Church’s strength and Backlund’s situation, he would have no chance of leaving this metropolis alive…

Leonard quickly calmed down, believing that Dawn Dantes would avoid the dream review in a gentler manner.

He pulled over a chair and sat beside Albert. He appeared to be casually reading a newspaper, but in truth, he remained focused on Albert, watching for any accident.

…

At 160 Böklund Street, inside the master bedroom.

Klein, within his dream, suddenly became lucid. He knew that an “outsider” had arrived.

A Nighthawk review? he muttered inwardly, looking around and finding himself in that semi-open room.

Then he heard a series of knocks at the door.

“Come in…” Klein tried hard to make his voice sound like someone talking in his sleep.

The handle turned. The door opened, and a rather thin man with yellow hair, dressed in a black trench coat, walked in. It was the Red Glove, Albert.

“Superintendent of the Backlund Police Department.” Albert casually showed his credentials and sat across from Klein.

“What is the matter, officer?” Klein entered the proper state.

He knew that under the influence of a Nightmare’s ability, he should appear a little more normal at this moment.

Albert manifested a stack of papers and read in a low voice:

“Dawn Dantes, male, native of Desi County…”

He roughly recited the information they had gathered so far, then asked at the end, “Is this information true?”

“Some of it is true. Some of it is false,” Klein “honestly” replied in the dream.

The true parts are probably only “male” and “has no female companion”… At the same time, he mocked himself inwardly.

Seeing progress come so quickly, Albert felt pleased. His face grew stern.

“Which parts are false?”

Klein had long since prepared for this. Pretending to recall, he said, “My wealth did not come from mines, but from adventures in the Southern Continent.”

Combining the situation in West Balam that Anderson had once described, he fabricated the story of how an ordinary man, in a region where Loen and Intis frequently clashed, had relied on eloquence, intelligence, experience, and boldness to acquire wealth.

The story was not especially detailed. It was only an outline. Its main purpose was to make the Nighthawks believe Dawn Dantes was an ordinary man with a spirit of adventure, not a Beyonder. After all, stories of people becoming rich in similar ways were many and not at all rare in Loen.