Chapter 136: Volunteer

Chapter 136: Volunteer

On the second floor of the Sweet Lemon Bar, inside the room belonging to the owner.

Bilt Brando held a cigar between his fingers and stood by the window, staring outside with unfocused eyes. His expression was frighteningly gloomy.

At that moment, a bodyguard entered, bent his waist slightly, and said carefully, “Sir, Sotos has returned from the east.”

“Let him in.” Bilt did his utmost to adjust his expression.

Sotos Young was his deputy and an important member of the loose organization known as the Adventurers’ Mutual Aid Association.

In less than a minute, Sotos entered. He wore a linen shirt, a brown jacket, and a dark-red headscarf wrapped around his head. His appearance was that of a man in his thirties. His complexion was bronze, his eye sockets deep, and dark whiskers grew over his upper lip and chin. At a glance, one could tell he was the sort of person who drifted across the sea year-round.

Sotos offered a not-especially-formal salute and sized up Bilt Brando.

“Boss, did something happen?”

“Mm. There was an accident. It seems the matter will fail.” Bilt did not conceal it. He sighed. “I do not even know how to explain it to that major figure.”

Without waiting for Sotos to respond, he turned and asked, “Have there been any changes in the east?”

“Still the same. Pirates chase every ship worth plundering and even treat one another as prey. The navy can only defend each colony, barely maintaining the shipping routes and protecting the relatively important ships. Naval battles break out often, with both sides winning and losing.” Sotos shrugged.

“The eastern Sonia Sea truly is a chaotic paradise for pirates…” Bilt sighed in agreement.

Sotos thought for a moment and added, “Recently, some news appeared on the islands in the east. It is said to have first spread from the Black Death.”

“Vice Admiral Ailment? What news?” Bilt asked, becoming more alert.

With a mixture of gravity and excitement, Sotos said, “Vice Admiral Ailment was indeed assassinated and was seriously injured. The person who did it was the adventurer Gehrman Sparrow!”

“Gehrman Sparrow?” Bilt blurted out.

“Yes, him! He truly is a pirate admiral-level powerhouse. Even if it was a sneak attack, it took place on the Black Death, surrounded by many famous pirates. Yet he still heavily injured Vice Admiral Ailment and escaped smoothly. Afterward, he even hunted down the Silver-Tongued Misor.” Sotos gave an emotional and affirmative answer.

Bilt paced two steps and sighed.

“This is major news.

“Among adventurers, pirate admiral-level powerhouses are already extremely rare. Someone capable of seriously injuring a pirate admiral aboard their own flagship is even rarer—perhaps only this one. An operation like that requires not only absolute confidence in one’s own strength, but also enough madness. Only a lunatic would directly infiltrate a pirate admiral’s flagship and attempt an assassination, rather than look for another location!”

At this point, his expression shifted slightly.

“Last night, I met an adventurer who claimed to be Gehrman Sparrow.”

“Real or fake?” Sotos’s eyes narrowed as he asked in a low voice.

“I cannot be certain. I have never seen the true Gehrman Sparrow, nor his photograph or portrait.” Bilt shook his head.

Sotos considered briefly and said, “We can gather the Rorsted Archipelago newspapers and confirm it. So many days have passed that travelers should have brought over the corresponding News Report and Sonia Morning Post. Government offices, police stations, Churches, and charity organizations all subscribe to the important newspapers from the Rorsted Archipelago.”

The Rorsted Archipelago was the Loen Kingdom’s largest and most important colony in the central Sonia Sea, and its influence radiated across the surrounding region. Oravi Island, only three days’ sailing away, was undoubtedly within that range. Official institutions and Church organizations all subscribed to newspapers and magazines from there. Nonessential news could usually be read within three to four days.

“Mm.” Bilt nodded, then asked in greater depth, “Are there any specific details about Gehrman Sparrow’s assassination attempt on Vice Admiral Ailment?”

Sotos recalled for a moment and said, “According to rumors, Gehrman Sparrow can turn into anyone, just like the former Vice Admiral Hurricane Qilangos.

“It was precisely by relying on this ability that he smoothly infiltrated the Black Death and found the opportunity to assassinate her.”

“Can turn into anyone…” Bilt’s eyes abruptly lit up.

No, no. That is someone mad enough to infiltrate the Black Death and assassinate Vice Admiral Ailment. He inspires instinctive fear and makes people want to stay far away… The light in Bilt’s eyes quickly dimmed.

And I still do not know whether he is real or not… He subconsciously shook his head.

…

I wonder when the Nighthawks and the Machinery Hivemind will act and deal with the abnormality on Williams Street. I hope they move as soon as possible… As thoughts turned in his mind, Klein left the gray fog and returned to the real world.

After some brief consideration, he pulled out a sheet of letter paper and laid it across the brown desk.

His dark-red fountain pen moved with soft scratching sounds. Klein first expressed concern about Mr. Azik’s recent condition. Then he mentioned that when searching for a mystical item capable of stealing another person’s Beyonder abilities, he had discovered someone in a state of being parasitized by an outsider.

Next, he asked, in an apparently casual manner, whether there was any method to bypass the parasitic outsider and remind the host.

Using that pretext, he then spoke of the Time Worm related to the high levels of the Thief pathway, which he had learned of from someone else. He said he now knew this object could serve as an important ritual offering or a material for high-level charms, but that he did not know the specific method for using it.

Whew… Klein set down the fountain pen, folded the letter, took out the copper whistle, brought it to his lips, and forcefully blew.

White bones surged up like a fountain, forming the enormous messenger. This time, however, the messenger no longer drilled out from below, but instead crossed through the ceiling like it had so many times before, looking down upon the summoner from above.

Klein knew this was not because the messenger had become less polite again, but because he was now staying in a first-floor inn room…

With a flick of his wrist, he threw the letter like a dart, making it accurately land in the enormous skeletal hand.

The flames inside the messenger’s eye sockets flickered twice, seeming to stare at Klein. In the end, however, nothing happened.

Its body collapsed into a waterfall of bones, each one sinking into the floor.

After finishing all this, Klein did not unfold the paper crane, erase the previous writing, and ask the Mercury Snake, Will Auceptin, the same questions.

This was because he had discovered a rather unfortunate fact: that paper crane was not a mystical item or Beyonder weapon. It was only an ordinary piece of paper folded into shape. After repeated rubbing with an eraser, it had already shown signs of fragility. If it was used a few more times, it might tear outright.

“I will only consider it when there is something extremely important that requires contact, such as if Mr. Azik does not know how to bypass the old grandpa possessing Leonard and warn him…” Klein shook his head soundlessly and quickly cleaned up the items on the desk.

In addition, he had not dared to use the wireless telegraph receiver recently to contact Arrodes, because the powerhouse sent by the True Creator was very likely still wandering nearby, tracking the All-Black Eye’s aura. Meanwhile, the “scent” of the gray fog might also have already drawn the True Creator’s attention and been relayed to His believers.

“Today, I will continue being a traveler and relax a little. Tomorrow, I will begin searching for real opportunities to act!” Klein gathered his thoughts, put on his coat, removed his hat from the rack, and left the inn room.

He was going to the mountain outside Oravi Harbor to watch the sunset.

This idea came from a bestselling novel. Its author was called Leon Mastan. Born in Oravi, he had only settled in Backlund after the age of twenty. In his book, this gentleman introduced, with deep emotion, the sunset over Saint Draco Mountain near the harbor, believing it to be the most beautiful scenery he had ever seen.

Klein took a carriage out of the city and walked to the foot of Saint Draco Mountain. It took him only one hour to climb the low peak.

Time passed second by second. The sun gradually sank, dyeing the azure ocean to the mountain’s left as though it were aflame, while coating the green forest and broad fields to the right in gold.

At that moment, all colors bloomed with their final brightness. Then they gradually dimmed, until everything became dark.

Ships entered the harbor. Carriages went into the city. Busy people followed the roads between wheat fields and orchards, returning home one after another.

When darkness began covering the land, points of warm light appeared inside and outside the city in succession. They looked like brilliant jewels scattered across black velvet.

It really is beautiful… Klein admired it for a while, until the lights representing each household reflected within his eyes.

He turned around in silence, followed the mountain path through clusters of trees already dyed black, and returned to the base. After walking a little farther, he hired a carriage at the edge of the port city.

The carriage moved forward steadily. Iron-black elegant gas lamp posts quietly retreated one after another under the illumination of faint yellow light, moving farther and farther away.

After an unknown length of time, Klein returned to the inn, took out his key, and opened the door.

Inside the room, the bed, desk, and chair all lay silently in the dense darkness, soundlessly reflecting small traces of crimson moonlight.

Klein closed the door with only the smallest motion, walked to the window, and stood within the shadow cast by the curtains, unmoving for a long time.

Outside, the lights were bright.

…

Early the next morning.

Klein turned on the faucet and patted the cold water against his face. His whole body instantly became clear-headed.

He had already thought of where to begin searching for true acting opportunities:

Hospitals, where the dying might appear at any time.

In the past, Klein had only visited such places briefly and wandered around for a while. It was indeed very difficult to find a suitable target that way. This time, he decided to serve as a volunteer for a period, staying in the hospital long-term and caring for the dying patients whose family members were temporarily absent. Only by doing this could he wait for the target he needed.

After breakfast, Klein arrived at No. 10 Black Forest Street and entered the Oravi Medical Relief Foundation.

This was a charity organization with a Church of the Evernight Goddess background. One of its responsibilities was to provide trained volunteers to various hospitals.

Klein came to the registration desk and saw a female staff member reading a newspaper. He lightly knocked on the surface of the desk.

“What can I help you with?” the woman asked while setting down the newspaper.

“I wish to volunteer,” Klein said concisely.

“Name.” The woman looked up toward the person opposite her.

Suddenly, her gaze froze. Her right hand trembled, and the fountain pen she had just picked up dropped to the floor with a tap.

On the newspaper before her was a nearly lifelike portrait.

The owner of that portrait was the mad, dangerous adventurer, Gehrman Sparrow!