Chapter 149: Barefaced Groundwork

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Nine
Barefaced Groundwork

Klein looked at the serious and proper Dunn Smith. Suddenly, he smiled.

“Captain, I figured something out yesterday.”

“What is it?” Dunn repeated the question from moments ago, leaning back slightly against his chair as his clasped hands loosened.

Klein recalled the outline he had prepared earlier and said, “I was summarizing my previous experiences, and I believe the name of a potion itself contains a complete set—or series—of rules. Rules that help us master the potion and avoid its negative influence. And when we follow those rules in handling matters, it seems that we become a person of the corresponding profession.

“Similarly, those rules are implicit. No one tells them to you directly. You can only summarize them bit by bit from the corresponding profession, then revise them according to the different feedback you receive.

“That is why, when I became a true diviner at the Divination Club and had a Seer’s code of my own, the ravings and hallucinations troubling me disappeared.

“That is what I figured out.”

After saying all this, Klein silently breathed out. Apart from not directly naming “acting,” he had said everything that should be said.

Sigh. I only hope that when the Church sends someone to ask, the Captain will not say I already have such a clear idea. That would draw more attention to me… Add in the factors of the Seer pathway and the Antigonus family, and perhaps quite a bit of trouble might come… But the Captain is also someone who has seen many storms, with rich experience and decent intelligence. Once he understands the acting method, he will definitely notice the Church’s concealment in the related matters and know what should or should not be said…

Thoughts surged through Klein’s mind, somewhat chaotic.

But very soon, he made his decision and formed a plan.

If even this cannot make the Captain understand the acting method, or if he fails to detect the Church’s concealment, then before submitting the special application, I will directly wake him up to it!

Mm. I will test the waters first and confirm his tone then…

Dunn listened quietly to Klein’s explanation. His gray eyes grew deeper still.

He remained silent for more than ten seconds, then reached up and rubbed his temple. Afterward, he picked up his pipe and took a sniff.

After sniffing it, he seemed to forget the regulations of the Nighthawk team and casually drew a box of matches from his pocket.

Pale-blue smoke slowly rose. Dunn half-closed his eyes, seemingly savoring the tobacco.

After a while longer, he opened his eyes, smiled at Klein, and said, “Sorry. I forgot that you do not smoke.”

“Smoking harms your health,” Klein replied with complete seriousness.

Dunn held the pipe and thought for a moment.

“I seem to have understood some things as well.”

No, Captain, you have not understood anything! Just do not keep wandering into my dreams!

Klein did not ask aloud. He merely drew a gentle smile upon his face.

“Perhaps you will not need too long before you come to submit a special application…”

Dunn inhaled deeply, drawing in the tobacco scent mixed with mint. He spoke half jokingly, half emotionally.

Would tomorrow work?

Klein answered silently in his heart. Then he took out his pocket watch, checked the time, and said, “Captain, I have to go find Old Neil. Today’s mysticism lesson is about to begin.”

“All right.”

Dunn held the pipe and watched Klein leave the entire time.

After closing the Captain’s office door, Klein headed toward the staircase leading underground in a good mood. As he passed the civilian staff office, he saw a strange man and woman inside.

The new civilian staff…

Klein nodded thoughtfully, adding inwardly:

In another two days—within this week—I will submit the special application to the Captain!

Then, after a series of examinations, I will become the Sequence 8 Clown!

…

Inside the silent, gloomy underground passage, Klein turned toward the armory and pushed open the half-closed door to the guard room.

“What happened to you?”

The moment he saw Old Neil’s appearance, he received quite a scare.

Old Neil looked dispirited. His face was pale with a greenish tinge, and he kept yawning.

“I have been somewhat constipated recently. Last night, I tried a ritual magic to solve the issue. In the end—in the end, I did not sleep well the entire night. I kept running to the washroom. Later on, I nearly fell asleep on the toilet.”

Mm. The constipation problem was solved…

Seeing that it was not a major problem, Klein immediately felt the urge to laugh.

But he controlled himself and instead asked, “Are you feeling better now?”

At the same time, out of concern, he lightly tapped the teeth on the left side of his mouth twice and used spirit vision to observe Old Neil’s health aura.

The yellow of his digestive system and the orange of the waste-excretion and detoxification areas were somewhat dim and mottled, but all right. Still within reasonable limits…

Klein silently released a breath.

“I am fine. I asked Frye for some anti-diarrhea medicine.”

Like an addict, Old Neil gave a yawn.

“Study today’s mysticism lesson on your own. In any case, only the last two or three days of content remain.”

“All right,” Klein said politely. “Or I can watch the armory here and study by myself, while you go to the lounge and catch up on sleep?”

Old Neil’s back straightened instantly. His eyes shone as he replied, “Little Moretti, you really are the most conscientious Nighthawk after Frye!”

“The armory is in your hands!”

He grabbed the blanket lying across his knees and rushed out of the guard room like a whirlwind, leaving Klein standing there in a daze.

…

During the morning, Blackthorn Security Company took on an extra job: escorting a wealthy merchant to the docks to complete a transaction. Leonard and Kernli finished it easily and earned a considerable sum of extra pay, making Klein rather envious.

As for him, he continued step by step: delving deeper into mysticism, practicing shooting, and then being “tormented” half to death by Teacher Gawain, who seemed to have received some unknown stimulus.

Huff, huff…

Klein stood with his mouth open, breathing heavily. It took him quite a while before he recovered enough strength to shower and change.

After leaving Gawain’s home, he kept busy. Spending two soli, he hired a rental carriage and passed by the remaining ten houses with red chimneys one after another.

When the final dark-red chimney receded from his view, Klein’s expression turned extremely grave.

“The red-chimney house I saw in my divination was not among the ones with recent tenant changes… That makes matters troublesome. There are sixteen or seventeen hundred houses. Who knows how long it will take to check them all… Sigh. I cannot ask anyone else to help with this either. After all, only when I face the target myself will I feel that spiritual familiarity…

“I cannot lose heart. I cannot give up. Whenever I have time, I will check them. I will strive to find the target within three months—no, two months! Perhaps the ones I check tomorrow or the day after will contain the target.

“Mm. Once I get back, I will organize the information and plan out future daily routes according to distance and region.”

Klein encouraged himself, driving away the feeling of dejection.

Having decided this, he was about to instruct the driver to turn toward Daffodil Street when he suddenly realized that Azik’s residence was nearby.

“Before Mr. Azik went traveling, he wrote to tell me he would return this week, though he did not mention the exact date. Since it is on the way, I might as well go and take a look, and leave him a note. Mm, this rental carriage is two soli for one hour. The time is almost up. I will use Mr. Azik’s home as the destination, then change to a public carriage afterward…”

Klein quickly made his decision.

Four minutes later, he stepped down from the carriage and arrived outside Azik’s home.

This place was clearly of a higher grade than Daffodil Street, though still inferior to Howes Street. A lawn lay before the house, and a small garden was attached in the back.

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Klein pulled the cord by the door, ringing the bell inside.

After waiting a moment, he heard footsteps within. Then he saw the front door open.

Azik, with gentle features and bronze skin, appeared before Klein. Because he was at home, he wore only a casual white shirt, brown waistcoat, and brown trousers.

“Klein? I was just about to write to you.”

Azik greeted him warmly.

“I only got home last night.”

Klein looked deeply at the small black mole beneath his right ear and said, “Mr. Azik, I have found a clue to your past.”

“Truly?”

Azik’s expression immediately grew excited. Even the eyes that carried a sense of ancient vicissitudes lost their usual calm.

“Let us go inside,” Klein said, glancing left and right.

Azik nodded swiftly, stepped aside, and allowed his guest to enter.

He locked the door behind them, then led Klein to the first-floor sitting room, where they sat upon the soft sofa.

“What clue did you find?” he asked impatiently.

Klein had not expected to run into Mr. Azik today. Organizing his words, he said, “Recently, I accepted a commission and went to the abandoned castle outside Lamud Town to eliminate a wraith.”

“Lamud…”

Azik softly repeated the name, his brows creasing little by little.

Klein watched his expression and slowed his pace of speech.

“During the process of eliminating the wraith, we discovered certain things. Afterward, we conducted a deeper investigation in town…

“A town resident claimed he possessed a portrait of the first Baron Lamud and attempted to sell it to me. I was curious, so I looked at the oil painting. I discovered that the person in the portrait, aside from hairstyle, had features very similar to yours, Mr. Azik. Even the small black mole beneath the ear was in exactly the same position and was exactly the same size.

“Under my questioning, that resident admitted that the oil painting itself was a work from forty years ago. But the object it imitated indeed came from the abandoned castle. It was indeed copied from an ancient portrait excavated there.

“You know that people like us, who possess unique abilities, all have preliminary techniques for identifying lies. That technique told me that the resident was not lying.”

Azik leaned forward and listened through the whole account, hands clasped. For a long time, he did not speak, maintaining wordless silence.

After five or six minutes, he finally breathed out.

“Your description has not caused me to remember anything more. Perhaps—perhaps I must personally go and see that abandoned castle.”

“Can you take me there?”

“It would be my honor,” Klein replied, having already prepared himself. “But I need to go home first, lest my elder brother and younger sister worry.”

“No problem.”

Azik rose with a rush.