Chapter 79: Whispers Once More

Chapter Seventy-Nine
Whispers Once More

Caught by five pale-knuckled fingers, cold and painful around his wrist, every hair on Klein’s body instantly stood on end. He instinctively tried to pull his hand back, frantically wanting to retreat.

A heavy sensation pulled at him. Klein dragged at his forearm as though using all the strength in his body.

Thud!

The pale, naked corpse was pulled crooked and fell from the long table onto the ground.

Yet those cold, death-white fingers still clamped firmly around Klein’s wrist.

For a moment, Klein lost the ability to think. His mind was full of one thought: draw the gun and bang, bang, bang.

But because he could not pull back his dominant hand, he dropped his black cane and tried several times, yet failed to smoothly draw the revolver from the holster beneath his arm.

Just then, the corpse’s eyelids abruptly lifted, revealing a pair of blue eyes without focus.

Its mouth moved. A murmur escaped.

“Hornacis… Hornacis… Hornacis…”

After those three utterances, Klein, who had been so anxious his hands and feet were in chaos, felt the fingers gripping his wrist begin to loosen. Then they fell away weakly.

The tailcoat clown’s eyes closed again. It was as though nothing had happened just now.

If not for the pale corpse lying on the stone floor, Klein might have thought he had encountered an illusion.

He staggered backward several steps, feeling several parts of his body cramp from excessive fear and tension.

Hah… Hah…

Klein panted heavily, slowly recovering his ability to think. Alert and afraid, he looked toward the corpse on the ground.

He drew his revolver and cautiously retreated step by step from the room. Only after confirming that the corpse made no further movement did he glance at the wrist of his gun-holding hand.

There were five deep, dark-red finger marks there, silently describing what he had just experienced.

Klein calmed considerably, yet one curse echoed over and over in his heart.

Fuck. That scared me to death!

After panting for more than ten seconds, he began outlining an object in his mind, quickly allowing himself to obtain a calm state.

Carefully recalling what had happened, Klein replayed the encounter in his mind frame by frame.

Although he still did not understand the reason for the tailcoat clown’s “corpse transformation,” he keenly grasped the key point: the repeated murmur of “Hornacis.”

“Hornacis again…”

Klein frowned at once.

“The Antigonus family notebook recorded the Nation of Evernight in the Hornacis mountain range. When I heard voices I should not have heard during meditation and spirit vision, there was also the word Hornacis. And now, this dead man has once again emphasized Hornacis to my ear in such a strange way…

“Could it be that the answers to many questions are in the Hornacis mountain range?

“Perhaps—perhaps great danger is also hidden there. For instance, some evil god might be sealed within the mountain range and is seeking to escape through this sort of ‘lure.’”

While thoughts surged in his mind, Klein cautiously entered the room and touched the corpse several times, confirming that the other party was thoroughly dead.

Thinking that he could not let the Corpse Collector Frye see the mess he had made, he summoned courage, grabbed and carried the corpse, and moved it back onto the long table.

Throughout the entire process, Klein kept his nerves stretched tight. The smallest sound might have snapped them completely. On top of that, the cold contact between the corpse and his own skin made him feel extremely nauseated.

Only after completing the task with difficulty did he remember why he had approached the corpse in the first place. So he once again concentrated his gaze on the tailcoat clown’s wrist, on that peculiar brand.

At some point, the brand had fallen off. It had condensed into a blood sphere carrying a hint of blue.

The blood sphere was only the size of a thumb, yet it quietly hovered in midair in a manner that violated the rules of physics.

“What is this?”

Klein murmured, not daring to touch it rashly again.

He had never considered secretly pocketing the bizarre blood sphere. First, he had absolutely no idea whether it was good or bad. Second, he believed that Frye, who had carefully examined the corpse, must have discovered the brand on the wrist long ago, and might even know what the strange blood sphere was.

Even if Frye did not know, handing it to the Captain and allowing the entire Nighthawk team to explore and study it would clearly be much better than me randomly trying things…

Klein thought this way.

When one was within an organization, one had to understand how to make maximum use of that organization’s strength.

He waited tensely for several minutes before seeing Frye, black-haired and blue-eyed, with very thin lips, return to the room.

Frye’s gaze was instantly drawn by the strange blood sphere. He asked the very same question Klein had asked himself earlier.

“What is this?”

“I do not know.”

Klein honestly shook his head and concealed nothing, describing the whole sequence of events.

“The brand fell off and became a blood sphere…”

Frye nodded as though thinking.

“A Beyonder corpse always undergoes some strange changes…”

He lifted his head and looked at Klein.

“Go invite the Captain over. Also tell him what the corpse murmured.”

“All right.”

Klein had long wanted to leave this place.

“You do not need to come back with the Captain,” Frye added. “I imagine you definitely would not enjoy seeing what follows.”

As he spoke, he picked up the silver-white scalpel beside him.

Klein nodded with lingering fear.

“That is exactly what I was hoping for.”

He picked up his cane, put on his hat, and turned toward Chanis Gate. In the duty room, he saw Captain Dunn, no longer dispirited.

Dunn calmly listened to his account and nodded almost invisibly.

“I will report this matter upward and let the Sanctuary handle it. Perhaps they will send someone to the main peak of the Hornacis mountain range to take a look.”

Klein gave a soft “mm.” Seeing that only the Captain and the Sleepless Kenley were inside the duty room, he casually asked, “Have Mr. El and the others gone to rest?”

Dunn nodded.

“El and Borgia are at Saint Selena Cathedral. Lorotta has probably gone looking for a café.”

“A café? Madam Lorotta’s injuries should not have recovered yet, right?” Klein asked in astonishment.

Dunn rubbed both sides of his brow bone and smiled.

“Lorotta has three great hobbies: coffee, desserts, and maids. She said that only those three things can speed up her recovery.”

“Maids?” Klein asked blankly.

Does Madam Lorotta have some particular proclivity?

Dunn shook his head helplessly.

“She likes maids. Mm, that is correct. And she likes—likes ones with large chests.”

“…She is truly a strange person.”

Klein did not know what expression he should use.

Dunn delayed no longer and walked out of the duty room. Klein looked at his back and quietly waited for him to turn around.

At the same time, out of the corner of his eye, he saw the Sleepless Kenley take out his pocket watch and press it open.

Three, two, one…

Klein had only just counted down in his mind when Dunn stopped, half-turning around.

“I forgot another matter. Klein, you experienced far too much today. Once you relax, you will definitely feel exhausted. You need not stay here this afternoon. Go home and rest well. Tomorrow—tomorrow, submit an application and list your losses in detail.

“Mm. As for killing a Beyonder, do not pay too much special attention to it. By killing him, you saved more people.”

“Actually, I am already much better,” Klein exhaled silently.

Dunn nodded slightly and was about to turn when he suddenly slapped his forehead.

“Also, I have already handed that Beyonder’s portrait to Leonard. He and the police department will handle the follow-up investigation. I believe that Beyonder must have ridden carriages in Tingen, eaten food, and certainly had somewhere to stay.

“Wherever one passes, one leaves traces. This saying from Emperor Roselle is indeed very reasonable.”

“…Yes,” Klein answered woodenly.

Only after the Captain had gone far away did he leave the duty room as well and slowly walk toward the second floor.

On the way, he suddenly thought of something. For some reason, fear stirred faintly inside him.

“The tailcoat clown claimed that the Secret Order controls the Sequence pathway corresponding to Seer… Even if he exaggerated, and they do not actually possess high-sequence formulas, they certainly do not lack low-sequence ones.

“In other words, they have quite a few Seers.

“Could they divine that I killed the tailcoat clown and secretly take revenge?

“They might be unable to deal with the Nighthawks, but surely they could handle a Seer like me who has no direct means to defeat enemies…”

Klein stopped on the stairs and seriously considered the question. Very quickly, he discovered that he was worrying blindly.

“First, the Secret Order does not know exactly who the Nighthawks’ members are.

“Second, even if they know one or two, that would absolutely not include me, a civilian staff member.

“Third, under these circumstances, unless they have a Prophet, it should be impossible for them to divine who the killer was.”

He let out a breath, left Blackthorn Security Company, and returned to Daffodil Street by public carriage.

Although he had eaten nothing at noon, he still had no appetite at all.

Klein entered his bedroom, first took off his damaged formal suit and removed his half-top silk hat, then lay down on the bed and tried to sleep.

His thoughts were still active, and his entire person seemed unable to relax. But what repeated in his mind was no longer the scene of shooting the tailcoat clown. Instead, it was the moment when he moved the corpse, the touch that made his skin crawl.

The discomfort of killing for the first time had lessened considerably. Yet in its place was a nausea that made goosebumps rise one after another with the mere thought of it.

“Perhaps this was Frye’s goal: to have me overcome the psychological shadow by directly facing a corpse… However, however, the previous psychological shadow is gone, while a new one has appeared…”

Klein laughed at himself, and his spirit relaxed along with it.

He did not know when he fell asleep. By the time he woke, his stomach was rumbling.

“I feel like I could eat an entire cow.”

Klein muttered, seeing the sun slanting west outside the window and flames burning across the horizon.

After changing into old but comfortable home clothes, he quickly went down to the first floor. Before he even had time to consider what to make for dinner, he heard the sound of the door opening.

Melissa…

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly.

Ever since she began taking public carriages, his sister no longer returned home so late.

The key turned, and the door opened. Melissa entered in small steps, carrying the bag that held her books and stationery.

She looked toward the kitchen doorway and said, “Klein, there is a letter for you. A letter from your mentor.”

A letter from my mentor? Right. I wrote to ask him about historical matters related to the main peak of the Hornacis mountain range…

Klein was startled at first, then immediately remembered.