Chapter 174: Madam Sharon

Chapter One Hundred Seventy-FourMadam Sharon

“What?”

Tolle, who resembled a brown bear, was startled. He looked at Klein, then at the guest room. With an agility his build should not have possessed, he rushed inside.

He pulled away the white cloth covering the corpse, examined it carefully several times, then released a breath of relief.

“It is better than I imagined. This is not too large a problem.”

Perhaps I should have drawn my revolver and sent five Demon-hunting Bullets into Councilman Maynard, just to see exactly how serious the problem would become…

Klein grumbled inwardly, pointed outside the door, and said, “There should be nothing more for me here, right?”

“No!”

Tolle suddenly shouted, then said, “Wait a little longer.”

Klein asked back in confusion, “Why?”

Tolle explained with perfect seriousness, “We must guard against accidents. After we question Madam Sharon and record her statement, I will send you back to Zouteland Street.”

Maynard, who had been dead for more than ten hours, could still “come alive.” What else could not happen? If you leave, what am I supposed to do?

Tolle silently added in his heart.

“All right,” Klein said, rubbing the corner of his forehead. “Find me a quiet room where I can rest.”

Having advanced only one day ago, his condition in every aspect had not yet fully stabilized. He had also performed several rituals, used two charms, and received no small fright. Therefore, he needed to meditate as soon as possible and eliminate any problems.

At present, Klein was exceptionally vigilant toward “loss of control.”

Tolle pulled the white cloth back up and visibly relaxed.

“No problem.”

He led Klein into a guest room near the solarium, gesturing inside.

“Inspector Moretti, you may rest assured. No one will come disturb you. I will go find Madam Sharon first.”

Klein nodded slightly, watched the other man leave, then closed the door and drew the curtains.

Inside the dim, quiet bedroom, he slowly walked to the rocking chair and lay down comfortably, letting his body sway back and forth in rhythm.

Countless illusory spheres of light stacked and gathered inside his mind. Little by little, the buzzing in Klein’s ears and the aching pain in his head vanished.

Once his condition had steadied, he opened his eyes and looked at the outlines of the bed, cabinets, and other furniture sketched out in the darkness. Peaceful in both body and mind, he began summarizing his earlier attempts.

“Those somewhat exaggerated jokes did not give any ‘feedback’ for now…

“Perhaps it is because I have not truly controlled the power of the Clown potion, and there are still negative effects remaining… Of course, it is also possible that this kind of acting does not do much.

“…Personally, I am not very willing to act as a Clown. But since I chose this Sequence pathway, I can only grit my teeth and continue downward…

“In fact, everyone becomes a ‘clown’ more or less in life. There is no need to reject it too strongly…

“I must figure out the core element of Clown as soon as possible…”

Amid the rolling rise of many thoughts, Klein suddenly took out a brass-colored penny. Its value was one half-penny.

Out of habit, he was about to divine whether extraordinary factors had influenced Maynard’s death.

Maybe this is what people call an occupational disease…

Klein shook his head and laughed. His eyes darkened as he repeatedly recited inwardly:

“John Maynard’s death was influenced by extraordinary factors.

“John Maynard’s death was influenced by extraordinary factors.

“…”

Zing!

Lying in the rocking chair, he flicked out that half-penny coin and watched its brass-colored body flip and flash through the gloom.

Pap!

The coin fell straight into Klein’s palm, with the number “one-half” facing upward.

“Negative… In other words, John Maynard’s death was not influenced by extraordinary factors… Looks like this fellow really did die suddenly under extreme pleasure… The dead deserve respect, so I will not use…