Chapter 17: Special Operations Department

Chapter Seventeen
Special Operations Department

Blackthorn Security Company.

Seeing the signboard, Klein froze for a good while. It felt both beyond expectation and completely reasonable.

Well, really… I do not even know how to mock this…

He shook his head and laughed, climbed the stairs, lifted his right hand, and lightly knocked on the half-open door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The slow, rhythmic knocking echoed, but there was not the slightest response from within. Only a faint tap-tap-tap could be heard.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

Klein repeated the knock. The result was exactly the same.

He stopped knocking and pushed instead, widening the gap. His gaze slipped inside, where he saw a set of classical sofas, soft-backed armchairs, and a plain wooden tea table—perhaps meant for reception. Across from them stood a desk. Behind it, a brown-haired girl sat with her head lowered, nodding bit by bit.

Although the “security company” sign was only a disguise, this is still rather, rather unprofessional, is it not? How long has it been since a customer came to the door? Well, all right, you do not need customers anyway…

Klein grumbled inwardly as he approached. Once beside the desk and near the girl’s ear, he knocked twice more on the tabletop.

Knock. Knock.

The brown-haired girl abruptly sat upright. Both hands shot forward, lifting the open newspaper in front of her and blocking her face.

The Tingen Honest Man… What a fine name…

Klein silently read the title on the side of the newspaper facing him.

“The steam train Flying, which connects directly to Conston City, opened today… Honestly, when will it go directly to Desi Bay? I do not want to take a ship again. It is too uncomfortable. Extremely uncomfortable… Huh? Who are you?”

The brown-haired girl recited in a forced, theatrical way and offered her comments as she went. As she spoke, she slowly lowered the newspaper, revealing a smooth forehead and light-brown eyes. First ingratiating, then stunned, she looked at Klein.

“Hello. I am Klein Moretti. I came at Mr. Dunn Smith’s invitation.”

Klein removed his top hat, held it to his chest, and bowed slightly.

The brown-haired girl appeared to be in her early twenties. She wore a light green Loen-style casual dress, with pretty lace at the cuffs, collar, and chest, making her features appear all the more lovely.

“The Captain… All right. Please wait here. I will go ask him.”

The girl hurriedly rose and entered an inner room through a side door.

She did not even offer a cup of water… Her service awareness is worrisome…

Klein smiled faintly and waited where he stood, without going to the sofa or chairs.

After two or three minutes, the brown-haired girl pushed the door open and came out, smiling sweetly.

“Mr. Moretti, please follow me. The Captain is on duty at Chanis Gate today and cannot leave.”

“All right.”

Klein walked forward with a gentle expression, while inwardly he wondered.

Chanis Gate? What is that?

Through a partition, the first thing he saw was a short corridor. To either side there seemed to be only three offices.

Some of the office doors were locked, some open. Inside, people could be seen typing away on heavy mechanical typewriters, tap-tap-tap.

In a passing glance, Klein unexpectedly discovered a familiar person: the young police officer who had searched his home that day. Black hair, green eyes, and the romantic air of a poet.

He was not wearing a formal coat, and his white shirt had not even been tucked into his trousers. He looked wholly unrestrained.

Perhaps he really is a poet…

Klein nodded in greeting. The other man returned a smile.

The brown-haired girl turned the handle of the office door at the left side of the corridor’s end, pushed it open, and pointed inside with a smile.

“We still have to go down several flights of stairs.”

There was no furniture in the office, only gray-white stone steps extending downward.

Elegant gas lamps were lit along the walls on both sides of the stairway. Their steady light drove away the darkness and brought a sense of peace.

The brown-haired girl walked in front, staring at her feet and moving carefully.

“Although I come this way often, I am still afraid. I always worry I will fall and roll all the way down. You do not know this, but Leonard once did something that stupid. On his first day becoming a Sleepless, before he had fully mastered his own power, he tried to sprint down the stairs. Then—then he became a wheel. Hahaha, it is funny every time I think of it. Mm, he is the fellow who greeted you just now. That was three years ago. Speaking of which, I have already been with the Nighthawks for five years. I was only seventeen then…”

The girl watched the steps as she spoke familiarly. Then, as if suddenly remembering, she discreetly smacked her forehead.

“I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Rozanne. My father was an official member of the Nighthawks. He died in an accident five years ago. We should be colleagues from now on. Uh, ‘colleagues’ should be the right word… We cannot count as teammates yet, since neither of us is a Beyonder.”

“I hope I will have that honor, though in the end it still depends on Mr. Smith.”

Klein observed the closed surroundings and felt that the two of them had begun entering the underground. A cold dampness seeped from the stone walls, dispelling the summer heat.

“Do not worry. If he let you come here directly, that means the Captain has agreed. I have always been a little afraid of him, though he is very kind and takes care of people, and he gives me the feeling of a father. But for some reason, I am still afraid.”

Rozanne’s voice sounded as though she had a piece of candy in her mouth.

Klein replied humorously, “Isn’t it normal to be afraid of fathers?”

“That makes sense.”

At a turn, Rozanne reached out to support herself against the wall.

As they spoke, the two finished the spiraling stairs and arrived at a flat stone-paved area.

Before them was a long passage. Gas lamps enclosed in metal cages were likewise embedded into the walls on both sides, spilling light downward and stretching Klein’s and Rozanne’s shadows very long.

Klein keenly noticed that at intervals along the wall there was an “Emblem of Darkness,” the symbol of the Evernight Goddess: a deep black background, adorned with glittering points, embracing precisely half of a crimson moon.

The emblems seemed nothing special, but as he walked among them, Klein’s heart gradually grew peaceful. Rozanne, too, closed her mouth and no longer chatted as she had before.

Not long after, a crossroads appeared ahead. The brown-haired girl introduced it briefly.

“Left leads to Saint Selena Cathedral. Right is the weapons, materials, and archives storage. Straight ahead is Chanis Gate.”

Saint Selena Cathedral? Could Zouteland Street be on the back side of Red Moon Street?

Klein was stunned.

The Saint Selena Cathedral on Red Moon Street was the Church of the Evernight Goddess’s headquarters in Tingen. It was the sacred place yearned for by all devout local believers. Together with the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery’s Cathedral of Numbers in the suburbs and the Church of the Lord of Storms’ Cathedral of River and Sea, also in the North Borough of Tingen, it supported the religious world of Tingen City and its surrounding towns and villages.

Feeling that his current identity did not suit too many questions, Klein merely listened in silence and did not speak.

They passed through the crossroads and went straight ahead. In less than a minute, a black iron double door carved with seven holy emblems appeared before them.

It stood there, giving one an immediate impression of heaviness, coldness, and condescension, like a giant guarding the darkness.

“Chanis Gate,” Rozanne said, then pointed to a nearby room. “The Captain is inside. You can go in yourself.”

“All right. Thank you for the trouble,” Klein replied politely.

The room Rozanne indicated was just a little before Chanis Gate. Its window was open, and lamplight shone from within. Klein took a breath and calmly bent his fingers.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Come in.”

Dunn Smith’s deep, gentle voice sounded.

Klein lightly pushed open the half-closed door and saw that inside there was only one table and four chairs. Dunn Smith, with his high hairline, wore the same black windbreaker from last night and was leisurely reading a newspaper. Near the buttons at his chest hung a golden watch chain.

“Sit. Have you considered it? Are you certain you wish to join us?”

Dunn set down the newspaper and asked with a smile.

Klein removed his hat, gave a salute, sat beside the table, and slowly nodded.

“Yes. I am certain.”

“Then take a look at this contract. Heh. These days, everyone likes to call it a contract rather than a covenant.”

Dunn opened the desk drawer and took out two identical copies.

There were not many clauses. Broadly speaking, they were the same things Dunn Smith had mentioned before. The focus lay on the confidentiality clauses. Anyone violating them would no longer be judged by a kingdom court, but directly tried by the Church of the Evernight Goddess’s tribunal, just as soldiers and officers had to face military court.

A five-year contract… Weekly salary of two pounds and ten soli, with ten soli for confidentiality and risk allowance…

Klein read through the clauses one by one, then answered solemnly, “I have no problems with it.”

“Then sign.”

Dunn pointed toward the dark-red fountain pen and the ink on the table.

Klein first tested the pen on a scrap of paper. Then he secretly inhaled and signed his name in the appropriate place on both copies:

Klein Moretti.

Because he did not yet have a seal, in the end he could only press down his fingerprint.

Dunn took back the contracts, removed a seal from the drawer, and stamped the end and several key places of each.

Once all this was done, he stood. With one hand, he returned one copy of the contract; with the other, he reached toward Klein.

“Welcome. From this moment on, you are one of us. Remember, the contract must remain confidential as well.”

Klein stood with him. While taking the contract, he grasped the other man’s hand and smiled.

“Then should I call you Captain?”

“Yes.”

In the dim yellow light, Dunn’s gray eyes seemed unusually deep.

After shaking hands, the two sat separately. Klein glanced at the seal on the contract and found that it read:

Tingen City Nighthawk Squad, Awwa County, Loen Kingdom.

“I truly did not expect you to use ‘Blackthorn Security Company’ as a cover,” he said casually with a laugh.

“In truth, we have another signboard as well.”

Dunn took a sheet of paper from the drawer.

It bore the dual seals of the municipal government and the police department. The content was two lines of words:

Seventh Group, Special Operations Department, Awwa County Police Bureau, Loen Kingdom.

“The first four groups are ordinary police responsible for security work, such as the protection group for important figures and the protection group for important locations. Starting from the fifth group, they are aimed at supernatural incidents in the various cities of the county. Our Seventh Group is responsible for incidents in Tingen City involving believers of the Goddess. If different faiths are involved, responsibilities are divided by region. We mainly handle the North Borough, West Borough, Golden Indus Borough, and nearby areas.”

Dunn gave a rough introduction.

“The Sixth Group, belonging to the Mandated Punishers of the Church of the Lord of Storms, handles the dock district, East Borough, and South Borough. The university district and the suburbs belong to the Fifth Group, which is the Machinery Hivemind’s team in Tingen.”

“Mm.”

Klein found nothing to ask about that matter, so he turned to another subject with a smile.

“What if someone actually sees the sign for ‘Blackthorn Security Company’ and comes in to commission a task?”

“We accept it. Why would we not? As long as it does not affect our daily work.”

Dunn answered at an unhurried pace, with calm humor.

“If we earn money, we treat it as an additional subsidy. The team members are all quite willing. In any case, troublesome, trivial matters like finding cats and dogs have already been taken over by private detectives.”

“How many people are there in our Nighthawk team?” Klein asked, following the topic.

“There are not many supernatural incidents, and even fewer Beyonders. In all of Tingen City, the Nighthawks have only six official members, including me. Heh. Counting you, we also have six civilian staff now.”

Dunn answered slowly and calmly.

Klein nodded. At last, he asked the question that concerned him most.

“Captain, what exactly did you mean by Beyonders losing control? Why does that happen?”