Chapter 38: Amateur

Chapter Thirty-Eight
Amateur

Hearing Klein’s question, the pretty lady with brownish-yellow hair elegantly pinned up showed not the slightest impatience. Maintaining a courteous smile, she said, “Our members may freely offer divinations to others in the club and set their own prices. We take only a very small percentage as a fee. If you wish to have your fortune told, you may look through this album. It contains introductions and prices for the members willing to perform divinations.”

“However, today is Monday afternoon. Most of our members are at work or otherwise busy. Fewer than five are here…”

As she spoke, she invited Klein to sit on a sofa by the window in the reception hall. Then she sat opposite him, opened the album, and pointed out the members currently present in the club.

“Hynas Vincent, a well-known diviner in Tingen and a permanent instructor of the club. He is skilled in various forms of divination. His fee is four soli each time.”

So expensive… That would let Benson, Melissa, and me eat two abundant dinners…

Klein clicked his tongue inwardly but gave no response.

Seeing this, the lady with the brownish-yellow updo continued turning the pages and introduced them one by one.

“…The final one is Glacis. He joined the club this year and has learned tarot divination. His fee is two pence each time.”

“Sir, which member would you like to choose?”

Without the slightest politeness, Klein answered, “Mr. Glacis.”

“…”

The pretty receptionist was silent for two seconds before saying, “Sir, I must remind you in advance that Mr. Glacis can only be considered a beginner.”

“I understand. I will take responsibility for my own decision,” Klein replied with a smiling nod.

“…Then please follow me.”

The pretty lady stood and led Klein through the large door beside the reception hall.

Beyond it lay a not especially long corridor. At the end was an open meeting room, bright with sunlight, furnished with tables and chairs, and laid out with newspapers, magazines, playing cards, and similar items. A faint aroma of coffee drifted from within.

Two rooms before the meeting room, the receptionist indicated for Klein to stop. She quickened her pace, went to the end, and called in a gentle voice, “Mr. Glacis, someone wishes you to divine for him.”

“Me?”

A voice full of surprise and puzzlement immediately rang out, accompanied by the sound of a chair being moved.

“Yes. Which divination room would you like to use?” the pretty lady answered with little emotion.

“The citrine room. I like citrine.”

Glacis appeared at the doorway of the meeting room and looked curiously at Klein, who was waiting not far away.

He was a man in his thirties. His complexion was rather dark, his pupils deep green, and his pale yellow hair was soft. He wore a white shirt and black waistcoat, with a monocle hanging at his chest. His bearing was quite good.

The receptionist said nothing more. She opened the “citrine” room immediately beside the meeting room.

Inside, the curtains were drawn tight and the light was dim, as though only such an atmosphere could receive revelations from gods and spirits and obtain accurate divination results.

“Hello. I am Glacis. I truly did not expect you to choose me to perform your divination,” Glacis said, bowing like a gentleman. He entered the room quickly and sat behind the long table. “Frankly, I am only trying my hand at divining for others. I have no rich experience. For now, I am not a good diviner. You still have the chance to change your mind.”

After returning the salute, Klein followed him inside and closed the door behind them.

By the light that penetrated the curtains, he smiled and said, “You are truly an honest gentleman. But I am someone who persists in my choices.”

“Please sit.” Glacis pointed to the seat opposite him. After thinking for a few seconds, he said, “Divination is merely my hobby. Heh. In a person’s life, one often receives guidance from the gods, yet ordinary people cannot interpret the Lord’s meaning accurately. That is the reason divination exists, and also why I joined this club. In this regard, I still lack sufficient confidence. Let us treat the upcoming divination as an exchange—a free exchange. What do you think? I will bear the club’s fee myself. It is only a quarter penny.”

Klein neither agreed nor shook his head. Instead, he smiled and said, “It is clear that you have a decent and respectable job.”

As he spoke, he leaned forward slightly, formed a fist with his right hand, pressed it against his forehead, and lightly tapped twice.

“But that will not improve the accuracy of my divination,” Glacis replied with humor. After a moment’s thought, he asked, “You have a headache? Do you wish to divine something related to your health?”

“A little. What I would like to divine is the whereabouts of an object,” Klein said, having long since prepared his wording. His body slowly leaned back.

In his eyes, Glacis’s bodily aura appeared with striking clarity. The orange-red color at his lungs was dim and thin, and it affected the brightness of the rest.

That does not look like fatigue…

Klein nodded almost imperceptibly.

“A lost object?” Glacis considered for a few seconds. “Then let us first perform a simple judgment.”

He pushed the neat stack of tarot cards on the black tabletop toward Klein.

“Calm yourself. Recall that object in your mind, and silently repeat the question: ‘Can it still be found?’ At the same time, shuffle and cut the deck.”

“All right.”

In truth, Klein did not remember what that ancient notebook looked like. He could only broaden the question he needed to silently repeat:

Can the Antigonus family notebook still be found?

As he repeated the question, he shuffled and cut the deck with practiced ease.

Glacis drew the top card and slid it horizontally before Klein.

“Turn it clockwise until it stands upright, then flip it over. If it is reversed—that is, if the picture is upside down from your perspective—it means the object cannot be recovered. If it is upright, then we will continue with the later divination and search for its specific whereabouts.”

Following the instructions, Klein turned the horizontal card clockwise until it stood vertical.

He pinched the edge of the tarot card and flipped it over.

It was a reversed card.

“My condolences,” Glacis said with a sigh.

Klein did not respond, because all of his attention had fallen upon the tarot card before him.

The image on that reversed card was a young man wearing splendid clothes and a brilliant headdress.

The Fool.

Again, The Fool? It cannot be that coincidental, can it… According to the Hanged Man and Old Neil, divination is the result of spirituality communicating with the spirit world, and with the higher-level “I.” Tarot cards are only tools that make it easier to interpret symbolic revelations. In theory, the object used for divination should not matter or affect the result…

Klein frowned slightly. After considering for a while, he said, “May I divine whether that object has already been obtained by someone else?”

“Of course. Use the same method as before. Do it again.” Glacis nodded with strong interest.

Klein shuffled and cut the deck again, silently imagining the new question.

Draw the card, lay it horizontally, turn it clockwise until vertical. He completed the preparation with a serious expression.

Taking a breath, Klein extended his hand and flipped over the tarot card.

Please do not let it be The Fool again…

In that mood of prayer, he suddenly relaxed, because the card displayed was The Star, reversed.

“It seems that object has not yet been picked up by someone else,” Glacis interpreted with a smile.

Klein nodded. He raised his right hand and, as though thinking, lightly tapped the space between his brows twice. Then he took two dark-yellow copper pennies from his trouser pocket and pushed them toward Glacis.

“Did I not say it would be free?” Glacis frowned.

Klein smiled and stood.

“This is respect for divination.”

“All right. Thank you for your generosity.”

Glacis rose and extended his hand.

After shaking hands, Klein retreated two steps, turned, and walked toward the door. He twisted the handle.

Just as he was about to leave, he suddenly looked back, gave a soft “hm,” and said, “Mr. Glacis, I suggest you see a doctor as soon as possible. The problem is mainly with your lungs.”

“Why?” Glacis asked in astonishment.

Is he dissatisfied with the result and cursing me?

Klein thought for a moment and said, “It is a symptom I read from your complexion. You, mm, have darkness between your brows.”

“Darkness between my brows…”

It was the first time Glacis had ever heard a description like that.

Klein explained no further. He smiled, left the room, and closed the wooden door behind him.

“Is he an unlicensed doctor, or some village herbalist?”

Glacis shook his head with amusement and casually picked up the silver mirror used for divination.

Looking carefully, he discovered that the space between his brows did indeed appear dark.

However, that was simply because of the environment. Under the faint light penetrating the curtains, it was not only the space between his brows that looked dark—his entire face looked dark!

“Not a particularly likable joke,” Glacis murmured.

Still somewhat uneasy, he divined his own health and confirmed that there was no problem.

…

When Klein left the Divination Club, he already had an additional plan for the future.

He would save money as quickly as possible, pay the annual fee, become a club member, and begin acting as the so-called “Seer.”

Why not operate independently?

Because for now, he had no resources and no channels. Besides, he could not possibly stand on the street like a vendor. He was, after all, a respectable man. He had face.

Several minutes later, he waited for a public carriage, spent two pence, and arrived at nearby Zouteland Street.

Opening the door to Blackthorn Security Company, he did not see the familiar brown-haired girl. Instead, behind the reception desk sat Leonard Mitchell, black-haired and green-eyed, with the temperament of a poet.

“Good afternoon. Where is Rozanne?” Klein asked after removing his hat and bowing.

Leonard smiled and pointed toward the partition door.

“She is on duty at the armory tonight.”

Before Klein could ask further, Leonard spoke as if pondering a question.

“Klein, there is something that has puzzled me for a while.”

“What is it?”

Klein looked blank.

Leonard stood. His tone was relaxed and his smile gentle.

“Why did Welch and Naya kill themselves at the scene, while you returned home?”

“It should be that the unknown existence wanted me to take the Antigonus family notebook away and hide it,” Klein answered with the commonly accepted theory.

Leonard paced a few steps. Then he abruptly turned, looking straight into Klein’s eyes.

“If making you kill yourselves was intended to silence witnesses and erase clues, why did it not simply make you destroy that notebook on the spot?”