Chapter 53: Listener

Chapter Fifty-Three
Listener

Over a sea ravaged by storms, an ancient three-masted sailing ship rose and fell with the waves.

It was not fast, nor was it especially large. Amid this disastrous scene where sky and sea merged into one, it looked like a withered leaf torn from a tree. Yet no matter how savage the hurricane grew or how terrifying the waves became, it sailed on safely, never tilting.

Alger Wilson stood on the empty deck, gazing at the towering waves around him, not knowing what he was thinking.

“Monday is coming again…”

He whispered soundlessly.

That was the day belonging to the Earth Mother, the beginning of a new cycle of prosperity and decay.

But to Alger, it possessed another meaning as well. It belonged to a mysterious existence forever shrouded in gray-white fog.

At least I have not turned into a madman…

He withdrew his gaze and laughed at himself.

At that moment, one of his few crew members approached and asked respectfully, “Bishop, what is our target for this voyage?”

Alger looked around once. His tone had no particular rise or fall.

“We are hunting a Listener from the Aurora Order.”

…

The storm had dispersed, and mist spread across the sea. Upon a strange sailing ship that possessed cannon ports yet still did not conform to the trend of the age, an eight- or nine-year-old boy with soft, obedient yellow hair looked fearfully at the undisciplined pirates around him.

He watched them drink from barrels of beer, swing back and forth on ropes, mock one another, and even throw punches.

Turning his head toward the black-robed man standing in shadow, he lowered his voice and asked, “Father, where are we going?”

Five days earlier, he had met his father for the first time since he could remember: a father who called himself an adventurer.

If not for the oil painting his mother had left behind proving the man’s identity, and if not for the orphanage already opening its doors to him, he would never have willingly left his hometown and followed this almost completely unfamiliar blood relative.

The man in shadow lowered his head. Looking at his son, he answered kindly, “Jack, I am taking you to a sacred place—the Sanctuary where the Creator once lived.”

“Is that God’s kingdom? We mortals can only enter if we receive grace…”

Little Jack had been taught well by his mother and possessed enough common knowledge. At that moment, he was both astonished and afraid.

The man standing in shadow had a face whose deeply carved lines were hard to forget, like a stone sculpture completed by the greatest master.

He placed a hand beside his ear, assuming a listening posture, and answered in a voice almost like sleep-talking.

“Jack, ‘mortal’ is a mistaken concept. The Creator made this world. He is everywhere. He exists inside every living being. Therefore, all things possess divinity. Once that divinity becomes sufficiently rich, one can become an angel. Those seven false gods are merely more powerful angels.”

“Look. Even now, I can hear the Creator’s teachings. Ah, what extraordinary revelation! Life is nothing more than a journey of the spirit. When the spirit is strong enough, resilient enough, we can find our own divinity and merge with even more divinity…”

Little Jack could not understand such complicated descriptions. He shook his head and asked another question he had not yet had time to ask.

“Father, Mother told me that after the Creator made the world, He divided into all things and no longer truly exists. Then why does He still have a ‘Sanctuary’?”

As a seven- or eight-year-old child, his logic was sufficiently clear.

The man whose face looked as though it had been carved in stone froze. His head tilted a little farther, as if he had heard more whispers.

Suddenly, he dropped down, his knees striking the deck. On his exposed skin, one dark blue-black thing after another bulged out.

He clutched his head with both hands. His face twisted abnormally, and he cried out in extreme agony:

“They are lying!”

…

After lunch, and after Old Neil promised that he would bring him along the next time he visited an underground market, Klein leisurely returned to Blackthorn Security Company.

He considered whether to read documents in the civilian staff office, practice his abilities, or take advantage of the fact that Captain Dunn had not yet forbidden it and continue wandering outside, going to the Divination Club to act as a Seer.

Before he could make a decision, however, he saw Dunn Smith enter from the outer room, wearing a black windbreaker and half-top hat.

“Captain, how is the situation?” Klein asked with concern, thinking of the Antigonus family notebook’s whereabouts.

Dunn’s gray eyes showed not the slightest fatigue.

“Multiple sources have confirmed that the Antigonus family notebook is in Ray Bieber’s hands. However, he has disappeared completely.

“I have already informed the various Nighthawk teams by telegram and asked them to pay close attention to every port and every steam-train station. The first batch of printed portraits was mailed yesterday afternoon, and will soon be published in the major newspapers.”

If only there were telephones, fax machines, surveillance cameras, and big data right now… Unfortunately, I only know how to use those things, and only understand a tiny bit of the principles…

Klein silently exhaled.

“In any case, we can be considered to have found the notebook’s whereabouts. And that credit belongs to you. Of course, further confirmation is still needed. I have already sent a telegram to the Backlund Diocese, requesting that they send someone to escort Sealed Artifact 2-049 here. It was once a dangerous item belonging to the Antigonus family. It can help us determine whether Ray Bieber is a descendant of that family.”

Grade 2 Sealed Artifact… dangerous… cautious and restrained use…

Klein had wanted to ask curiously what this Sealed Artifact was, what special abilities it possessed, and where its dangers lay. Yet he instantly remembered that his clearance was insufficient, and could only helplessly give up.

“May the Goddess bless us.”

Klein tapped his chest four times, forming a full moon.

Dunn opened the door to his office and nodded slightly.

“The Goddess has always blessed us. Klein, if you had not chosen Seer earlier, once this matter was confirmed, you should have been able to become an official member and choose Sleepless. A pity…

“To be frank, I still do not understand why you chose Seer. Corpse Collector may be repellent, but you have seen Daly. You should understand how powerful a Spirit Medium is. And Mystery Pryer is also a good choice. At the very least, Old Neil can serve as a model, and the risk of losing control would be quite low.”

Klein had prepared an answer to this question from the very beginning. It was only that Dunn had never asked until now, when he casually brought it up.

After organizing his words, he said, “What I considered was this: Seer and Mystery Pryer are both support-type Beyonders and do not always need to face enemies directly. That is too dangerous. And you and Old Neil both said that in the fields of mystery and the extraordinary, curiosity and exploration often bring terrible consequences. The description ‘prying into mysteries’ in Mystery Pryer makes me feel uneasy, so… heh, you know, not long ago, I was still just an ordinary university graduate. Cowardice is the only reason I made this choice.”

“I must say, that is an answer I did not expect, yet find very reasonable.”

Dunn rubbed his forehead and laughed softly.

Half-turning, his gray eyes deep, he looked Klein up and down.

“For the next period, continue going outside. Do not limit yourself to the route from Welch’s house to Iron Cross Street anymore. Perhaps—perhaps—you can sense that notebook and help us determine Ray Bieber’s whereabouts.”

“All right.”

Klein discovered he no longer needed to struggle over his decision.

He took his leave and turned away. In his heart, he began counting:

Three, two…

“Wait a moment,” Dunn called.

Klein looked back and smiled slightly.

“Captain, is there something else?”

Dunn coughed once.

“Mm. Support-type Beyonders also encounter times when they must face enemies. Although Seer sounds as if it can avoid such situations, we cannot be careless. You must maintain your firearms practice and strengthen your physical power according to a plan.”

“That is exactly what I am working hard to do.”

Klein pointed outside.

“I am going out.”

“All right. Uh, wait.”

Dunn stopped him once more, thinking as he said, “Perhaps I should consider hiring a combat instructor for you. Of course, the prerequisite is that you become an official member.”

Klein gave an “mm,” then asked cautiously, “Captain, is there anything else?”

“No.”

Seeing Klein’s doubtful look, Dunn shook his head and smiled faintly, emphasizing, “Truly nothing else.”

Only then did Klein leave the partitioned area, say goodbye to Rozanne, Mrs. Orianna, and the others, go first to the shooting club for practice, and then stroll aimlessly for a full hour, carefully carrying out the task the Captain had assigned.

After doing all this, he arrived at the Divination Club and saw the pretty Miss Angelica leisurely reading a magazine.

Family…

Klein silently read the title, then walked over with his cane and greeted her with a smile.

“Good afternoon, Miss Angelica.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Moretti.”

Angelica calmly set down the magazine, rose, and said, “Not long after you left yesterday, Mr. Glacis came by. He had just recovered from a serious illness.”

Klein breathed out in relief and smiled.

“That is truly something worth being happy about.”

Hearing that sentence, Angelica, who had been quietly observing him, could not resist lowering her voice and asking curiously, “Mr. Glacis said—said that you are a very, very, very miraculous doctor. Is that true?”

What?

Klein stared blankly at the lady before him, suspecting that he had hallucinated.

What part of me looks like a doctor?

Even I did not know…