Chapter 37: The Club

Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Club

Under the blazing afternoon sun, Klein left his home.

Because he had to walk all the way from Iron Cross Street to Welch’s residence, he had changed out of his formal suit, top hat, and leather boots. Instead, he wore a linen shirt, his old brown jacket, a matching round-brimmed felt hat, and worn leather shoes. This way, he would not have to worry about sweat tainting that expensive outfit.

Following Daffodil Street, he slowly walked toward Iron Cross Street. When he passed the small square at the corner, he instinctively glanced in that direction.

The tents had vanished. The circus had long since completed its performance and moved on.

Klein had once imagined that the animal trainer who had divined for him was in fact some hidden expert who had discovered his special nature and had deliberately guided him. Later, there would surely be another meeting, another hint. Yet nothing of the sort had happened. She had simply followed the circus to begin the next stage of their journey.

There are not that many plot devices in the world…

Klein shook his head with a laugh and turned onto Iron Cross Street.

Iron Cross Street was not a single road, but, as its name implied, two streets crossing.

With the intersection as the center, it was divided into Left Street, Right Street, Upper Street, and Lower Street. The apartment where Klein, Benson, and Melissa had lived before was on Lower Street.

However, the people living in the apartment and nearby did not consider the area Lower Street. They had created the name “Middle Street” for themselves, distinguishing their neighborhood from the poor district two hundred meters farther down the road.

There, one bedroom might be shared by five, six, or even ten people.

Klein walked along the edge of Left Street. His thoughts drifted to the Antigonus family notebook, to its unknown whereabouts, to the importance the Nighthawks attached to it, and to the bloody case that had followed.

His mood slowly grew heavy, and his expression darkened.

At that moment, a familiar voice entered his ears.

“Little Klein.”

Mm…?

Klein turned his head in confusion and discovered that he had reached the front of Slin’s Bakery. Gray-haired Mrs. Wendy was greeting him with a gentle smile and a raised hand.

“You look a little, a little unhappy?” Wendy said warmly.

Klein rubbed his face.

“A little.”

“No matter how many troubles there are, tomorrow will still come,” Mrs. Wendy said with a smile. “Come. Help me try the sweet iced tea I have just made. I do not know whether it suits local tastes.”

“Local? Mrs. Slin, are you not local yourself?” Klein asked, shaking his head in amusement.

Try it should mean free, right?

Wendy Slin lifted the corners of her mouth.

“You guessed correctly. I am actually from the south. I came to Tingen with my husband. That was more than forty years ago. Heh, Benson was not even born then. Your father and mother had not even met.

“I have never quite grown used to the northern style of food. I am always missing the food of my hometown: pork sausage, potato bread, grilled flatbread, vegetables fried in lard, roast meat with special sauce.

“And, mm, sweet iced tea too…”

Klein could not help smiling as he listened.

“Mrs. Slin, this is a topic that makes people hungry… Still, I feel much better now. Thank you.”

“Good food can always heal sorrow.”

Wendy handed Klein a cup of reddish-brown liquid.

“This is sweet iced tea I blended from memory. Try it and see whether it tastes good.”

After thanking her, Klein took a sip. The drink reminded him somewhat of bottled iced black tea from Earth, but it was less sharp, stronger in tea flavor, and even more refreshing. In an instant, it seemed to disperse the scorching heat brought by the blazing sun.

“Excellent!” he praised.

“Then I can relax.”

Wendy smiled until her eyes narrowed, looking kindly at Klein as he finished the cup of sweet iced tea.

After chatting with Mrs. Slin for a while about moving to a new home, Klein returned to the street he knew best.

In the afternoon, there were far fewer street vendors here. Most would gather again only after half past five. Those who remained seemed listless and wilted.

The moment Klein turned onto the street, his mood suddenly became inexplicably gloomy. He felt a suffocating, depressed, gray sense of heaviness that he could not describe.

What is this?

Keenly sensing something wrong within himself, he stopped at once and looked around. Yet he saw nothing strange.

After a moment’s thought, Klein lifted his hand and, as if thinking, lightly tapped the space between his brows twice.

The world before him changed immediately. The auras of the street vendors and the few pedestrians appeared in his sight.

Before Klein could examine the colors of their health, he was drawn to the dense dimness representing their emotions.

He could not judge the exact thoughts of the people he observed, but the impression of pessimism, numbness, and gloom was deeply carved into his heart.

Looking around, he found that all nearby was wrapped in this murky color. Even sunlight could not disperse it.

This was a depression dyed into the place over who knew how many days, months, and years.

Seeing this, Klein suddenly understood.

As Old Neil had said, when spirit vision was active, he could easily feel uncomfortable in unfamiliar environments, and he could easily be affected by the emotions of others.

A similar principle applied to “inspiration”—an ability obtained automatically after becoming a Seer and requiring no additional study. It was passive and could not be refused. It allowed a person to directly sense the existence of certain abnormal situations.

Sensing something, of course, meant interacting with it to some degree. Therefore, in the eyes of Beyonders like Spirit Mediums, the strength of each person’s inspiration was as obvious as a torch in the night. Those with high inspiration would naturally and easily be affected by strange and powerful atmospheres, and could only learn, control, and adapt through repeated practice.

“A depressing ‘color’ like this must have taken a very long time to form, right?”

Klein sighed and shook his head, feeling touched.

He tapped the space between his brows twice again, working to restrain his spirituality.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Step by step, Klein walked toward the apartment, sensing possible abnormalities and subtle connections along the way in order to search for the Antigonus family notebook that “he” might have hidden.

The street was the same as usual, with dirty water and garbage. Only near the apartment entrance did it become somewhat clean.

Klein pushed open the half-closed front door. In the dimness untouched by sunlight, he made a circle of the first floor.

Then he climbed the stairs one by one, making the wooden steps creak beneath his feet.

The second floor, as always, lacked light. Klein let his inspiration spread and looked directly into the gloom.

Yet not only did he fail to discover any clue regarding the notebook, he did not even see a single invisible spirit.

“If they were that easy to encounter, most ordinary people would not fail to notice the existence of extraordinary things…”

Klein sighed to himself.

He had already understood that most “spirits” did not exist in the form of spirit bodies, but as spirituality. Only a Spirit Medium could effectively communicate with them.

After making a round of the third floor, Klein left the apartment. Following the route in his memory, he walked toward Welch’s residence.

He walked for a full hour and still found nothing along the way.

Standing outside the garden villa, Klein looked through the locked iron gate at the house and muttered inwardly.

“There should be no need to search Welch’s home, right? The Captain and Madam Daly must have gone through it inch by inch…

“And I do not have a key. I cannot very well climb over the wall…

“I will try another route tomorrow…

“I walked so much today, and there is not even a step-count leaderboard…”

Amid his silent grumbling, Klein turned toward the nearby blocks, intending to take a public carriage to Blackthorn Security Company, collect the day’s thirty bullets, and hurry to practice.

A Seer lacked quick and effective attacking methods. He could only use a revolver and cane to make up for it.

The area around Welch’s residence was quite clean, and there were many bright, orderly shops along both sides of the street.

As Klein turned the corner and prepared to search for a public carriage stop, his gaze suddenly swept over several signs on the second floor across the street:

“Harold Department Store.”

“Retired Officers’ Club.”

“Divination Club.”

…

Divination Club…

Klein silently repeated the name and suddenly thought of the matter of “acting” as a Seer.

Mm. I should go and take a look… Search for new ideas…

With thoughts rising one after another, Klein crossed the street, went to the opposite side, climbed to the second floor, entered the hall, and stopped before the pretty young lady responsible for reception.

This lady had brownish-yellow hair coiled up neatly. After examining Klein once, she smiled and said, “Sir, would you like a divination, or would you like to join our club?”

“What are the requirements for joining?” Klein asked casually.

The lady with her brownish-yellow hair piled high answered with practiced ease.

“You fill out detailed information and pay the annual membership fee. For the first time, it is five pounds. After that, one pound per year. Do not worry. We are not like political or business clubs, which require recommendations from formal members before you can join.

“Members may use the club’s meeting rooms, various divination rooms, and divination tools free of charge; enjoy the coffee and tea we provide free of charge; read the newspapers and magazines we subscribe to free of charge; and purchase lunch, dinner, alcoholic beverages, as well as certain divination textbooks and materials, at cost price.

“In addition, every month we invite at least one well-known diviner to give a lecture and answer questions.

“Most importantly, you will find a group of friends who share the same hobby, and you can exchange experience with one another.”

It sounds nice. But, but I have no money…

Klein smiled self-mockingly and changed the question.

“And if I want a divination?”