Chapter 122: The Target Building

Chapter One Hundred Twenty-Two
The Target Building

Number 2, Daffodil Street. Inside the living room dyed in the colors of dusk.

With his back to the oriel window, Klein addressed Frye and Leonard.

“I obtained a result from the divination. In the dream, I saw a two-story grayish-blue house. Every window on the first floor was shut tight and covered with curtains. Within several meters around it, the soil was dark brown. Not a single blade of grass grew there, and not a single flower was planted. It also had a ruined, gloomy garden—the sort that often appears in ghost stories.

“The only symbol that can identify its location is a river not far from it. A fairly broad river.

“That might be the Tussock River, or it might be the Hoy River. We can only rely on searching area by area. Hopefully there is still enough time.”

The Tussock River was the largest river in the Loen Kingdom. It originated in the Minster Mountains to the northwest, then flowed all the way southeast through Midseashire, Awwa County, and other regions. It passed through the capital, Backlund, and finally entered the sea near Pritz Harbor.

Its intersections with Tingen City were the southwest corner of the West Borough and the docks district south of the South Borough. The Hoy River, meanwhile, originated in the northern York Mountains, passed through the university district outside the East Borough, and merged into the Tussock locally.

Those were the two main rivers around Tingen. The rest could only be called streams and did not possess broad water surfaces.

After listening to Klein’s account, the pale-skinned, cold-tempered Frye gave a slight nod, approving his thinking.

Without any other clues, searching was the only effective method.

Just then, Leonard spoke with a faint smile.

“Perhaps we can narrow down the target area.”

“How?” Klein asked back, frowning as he held the silver pocket watch with vine-patterned decorations.

Leonard chuckled.

“For a criminal with a plan and clear purpose, the earliest targets chosen would certainly be far from the area where the altar is located. That stems from the instinctive pursuit of safety.

“Only after the ‘soon-to-die’ in other areas begin running out, making new targets harder to find, would that person consider the nearby region.

“So we should look through the files again and filter for areas where the number of death incidents remained normal at the start, but climbed rapidly in the last few days.”

Klein’s eyes brightened.

“Excellent deduction!”

At the same time, he mourned silently in his heart:

As expected, I really have no talent for being a detective…

Frye nodded once, picked up the files from the tea table, and began going through them again.

A few minutes later, his voice turned low.

“There truly is such a region. And only one.”

“Which district?” Klein blurted.

Frye handed the thick stack of files to Leonard beside him. Pressing his thin lips together, he said, “The West Borough.”

It’s the West Borough?

Klein tightened his fist and immediately suggested, “Then we should start by searching the southwest corner of the West Borough. That area is not large.”

“I agree.”

Leonard lifted the files in his hand and very casually echoed the suggestion, as though he had not been the one who had just proposed narrowing the range.

…

A light two-wheeled carriage moved slowly along a road that was somewhat muddy and filthy. Not far away, a broad river had been dyed in the afterglow of sunset.

Klein and Frye each looked out through a window on opposite sides, examining house after house. The focus was grayish blue, a ruined garden, and, if conditions allowed them to see clearly, whether every first-floor curtain had been drawn shut.

Leonard sat leisurely in place, leaning against the wall of the carriage as he hummed a local tune.

One stretch of dim scenery after another slid past. From the corner of his eye, Klein suddenly caught sight of a two-story grayish-blue building.

Before that little building stood a garden that gave off a ruined and gloomy impression.

“Found it,” Klein said in a lowered voice.

Before he had even finished speaking, Frye and Leonard squeezed over at the same time, looking into the distance with almost no gap between their movements.

As the carriage drew closer and closer to the house, the scene on the first floor, where all dark curtains had been drawn, appeared before the eyes of the three Nighthawks.

There was no longer any need for divination to confirm it. Klein was completely certain that this was the house he had seen in his dream. This was the place where the evil altar was located.

Whether Klein, Leonard, or Frye, none of them immediately ordered the carriage to stop. They allowed the driver to keep going, passing the target, leaving it behind, as though they were merely ordinary travelers moving by.

Only when the building could no longer be seen even by looking back did Leonard call to the driver and have him stop the carriage.

“Klein, take this carriage back to Zouteland Street and bring the Captain to help.”

Leonard snapped his fingers and looked toward his teammate with a smile.

He thinks I’m too weak and shouldn’t get involved in something this dangerous? This fellow is actually pretty decent…

Klein froze briefly, then understood what Leonard meant.

Beside him, Frye nodded in agreement.

“You have only just begun combat training. And your profession is supportive in nature.”

“I know. Someone capable of causing so many death incidents to hold a ritual certainly will not be easy to handle. Only the Captain can make this less terrifying…”

Klein inhaled and rationally accepted the arrangement.

Then he looked at Leonard, then at Frye, and forced out a smile.

“Be careful.”

“Relax. I cherish my life. Before the Captain arrives, we will only monitor the place and will not approach.”

Leonard laughed softly.

Frye said nothing. He merely lifted his suitcase.

Klein fell silent for several seconds, then took out a copper penny.

“I will do a divination for you.”

He silently recited, “The matter here will have a good result,” and while his eyes darkened, he flicked the coin upward.

Clang!

The coin spun upward, rolled down, and landed steadily in Klein’s palm.

Klein opened his eyes and saw the King’s portrait facing up. He immediately breathed out in relief.

“This is only a vague symbol and may have other interpretations. The most important things are always your own care and caution,” he said to Frye and Leonard in the manner of a diviner.

Leonard had already turned away. Hearing this, he waved while jumping down from the carriage.

“You nag like my eighty-year-old grandmother…”

Frye, however, nodded seriously. Carrying his suitcase, he stepped down as well.

Watching his two teammates walk toward the target house, Klein touched the revolver in the holster beneath his arm and said to the driver, “Zouteland Street.”

The driver, hired by the hour, raised no objection and urged the horse forward again.

…

Number 36, Zouteland Street.

When Klein entered Blackthorn Security Company, Rozanne, Mrs. Orianna, and the others had already left work. The place had become unusually cold, quiet, and dim.

Dunn, dressed in a black windbreaker, sat on the sofa in the reception area. He had not lit the gas lamps and seemed almost merged with that lightless corner.

“Found a clue?”

His mellow voice sounded out, startling Klein, who had been looking around for where the Captain might be.

Klein swiftly turned, looked into Dunn’s gray eyes, and said, “Yes. We…”

He quickly summarized Leonard’s “bold guess,” his own divination confirmation, and their subsequent field search, focusing only on the key points.

As for Leonard’s confidence and the special nature he had described, those naturally belonged to unimportant matters.

Dunn interrupted with a question from time to time. When Klein finished, he abruptly stood and walked toward the door.

“I nearly forgot. You stay here and guard against accidents,” he said, turning back to instruct him as he reached the stairs.

“All right,” Klein answered solemnly with a nod.

At this moment, aside from Kernli, who was guarding Chanis Gate, all the other Nighthawks were outside and busy.

Dunn Smith descended several steps with thuds, then suddenly stopped again. While putting on his hat, he turned toward Klein, who stood by the entrance.

“Lock the door and come with me. Heh. This is not for you to participate in the battle. First, you should experience the atmosphere. Second, during the final search and inspection, we may need the assistance of ritual magic.

“Remember: before the matter is over, you must stay at least fifty meters away from us. And under no circumstances are you to approach that house!”

Klein froze for a moment, then nodded hard.

“Understood!”

…

The sun had completely fallen beneath the horizon. The rushing Tussock River was deep and black.

Dark clouds covered the crimson moon, making the grayish-blue two-story house look like a monster hidden in shadow.

The garden before the small building was quiet to the extreme. Not a single sound came out of it. It was as if even crawling insects had vanished, as if life itself no longer existed there.

Klein gazed at the scene from afar, sweat gathering in his palms, his body trembling faintly.

He felt that countless terrifying things were concealed there, waiting—waiting for a bloody feast.

Under his watch, Dunn, Leonard, and Frye, nearly blended into the darkness, cautiously approached the target building.

…

Inside a bedroom on the second floor of the grayish-blue house, no lamp had been lit.

A young woman with a round face and a mild, sweet bearing sat before the dressing table. By the dim starlight, she was studying the “complex” science of skincare.

By her right hand stood a silver mirror. Its surface had been ground so rough that it could hardly reflect a person’s image.

Suddenly, a bloody streak seeped across the mirror’s surface.

The gentle, sweet Tris immediately went grim. She stood, walked to the window, and silently looked outside.