Chapter 55: Spiritual Intuition Too High

Chapter 55: Spiritual Intuition Too High

Standing behind the door was a bare-chested man. A ferocious blue-green sea serpent was tattooed on his arm, while short streaks of red paint had been smeared across both cheeks, his chest, and his abdomen in groups of three.

Now that has a truly foreign flavor… But are you not afraid of being too conspicuous and getting blocked by the police the moment you step outside? You are supposed to be rebels operating in secret! Klein was just about to withdraw his gaze when he nearly frowned at the man’s coarse, tangled brows and eyes like those of a cold-blooded creature.

He has killed many people… Klein made a rough judgment based on spiritual intuition.

To be honest, because of his identity and understanding from his previous life, Klein had originally held a great deal of sympathy for people resisting colonial rule. He had not had the slightest self-awareness of being a Loenese. Yet after learning that these rebels and the believers of Sea God Kalvetua were almost the same group, what filled his heart more was caution and rejection.

This was not because he discriminated against local beliefs, but because, from what he knew, the traditional faiths of all colonial islands remained in the primitive sacrificial stage. They worshiped blood offerings, revered live sacrifices, and existed in a rather benighted state.

In addition, based on Emperor Roselle’s experiences and Klein’s own, the extraordinary essence of this world contained elements of madness and distortion. “Gods” who still remained in the stage of primitive sacrifices were basically incapable of resisting that tendency. Their style could be imagined… Klein said nothing. He followed slightly behind Danitz and entered the room.

“Edmonton, who is it?” A mellow voice came from near the window.

The tattooed man closed the door and answered, “They are disguised.”

By this time, Klein had already taken in the interior of the room and formed a preliminary understanding.

The sitting room was not large. After a cupboard, a table, and a few chairs were placed inside, it already looked cramped.

To the right were two doors leading to what were presumably bedrooms. To the left, a cupboard had been used to separate out a “kitchen.” As for a washroom, there obviously was none. When Klein had climbed the stairs, he had noticed that at the turn of each floor there was a shared washroom. The odor that spread out, clearly from long neglect, urged passersby to hurry upstairs and enter their rooms as quickly as possible.

Straight ahead was a window. Two bamboo poles jutted outward, drying quite a number of garments.

At the doorways of the “bedrooms” and in the sitting room, four or five men stood or sat. All were locals with darker skin and slightly curled black hair. They wore deep-blue Taraba shirts, and their exposed skin had been smeared with varying amounts of red paint. Whether they had sea-serpent tattoos or not was impossible for Klein to determine, because their clothes covered them.

Some had revolvers at their waists. Some held brown-red hunting rifles. Some even carried gray-white steel packs on their backs and gripped thick, long high-pressure steam rifles, forming a semi-encirclement around Danitz and Klein as they entered.

The one who had spoken earlier was a man seated in an iron wheelchair. He looked to be in his forties, with a blanket over his knees and a jacket on his body.

His head was shaved bald, blue stubble darkened both sides of his cheeks, and his deep-brown eyes held restrained emotions, almost without ripple.

He glanced at the visitors and slowly revealed a smile.

“Blazing.”

Danitz froze for a moment, then forced a smile.

“Kalat, your eyesight really is good.”

Shit! Is my makeup and disguise really that terrible? he roared inwardly, unwilling to accept it.

Kalat ignored Blazing’s utterly insincere praise and turned instead to chuckle.

“I hear you killed Steel and Bloodthorn?”

“Why else would they be dead?” Danitz retorted without hesitation.

Kalat narrowed his eyes slightly, his gaze slowly shifting to Klein, who wore an utterly unremarkable face.

He knew very well that Blazing Danitz alone would have found it difficult to kill Bloodthorn Huntley, let alone Steel Maviti. If Danitz had succeeded, then the rumor that he had received the help of a powerful adventurer and seasoned bounty hunter was most likely true.

Is it this person beside him? Kalat stared into Klein’s eyes and found no tension, worry, or vigilance. Those eyes were like the depths of the sea.

Very likely… At the very least, he is stronger than Blazing! He gave Edmonton and the others a look, secretly raising their guard.

“Why are you here?” Kalat did not continue entangling himself in the previous topic.

Danitz instinctively glanced at Klein. After seeing the approving nod, he answered, “To see whether you have anything good.”

Kalat pointed at the table.

“They are all there.”

There were many strangely shaped objects laid out upon it, including a whistle made from bone, a simple and crude bagpipe, iron-black leaves, stones stained with blood, and more.

Before Klein and Danitz could examine them, Kalat clapped his hands.

“I have a mission.

“If you can complete it, you may freely choose one item from here without paying any price.”

He laughed once, then added, “According to you outsiders’ definitions, they do not count as mystical items, but they all possess some supernatural power. It is only that they will slowly—hm, not too slowly—weaken until they vanish.”

“What mission?” Klein asked calmly, not disguising the fact that Danitz was merely an attendant.

Kalat reached beneath the blanket over his knees and took out a stack of white papers.

“Find their whereabouts.

“If you can directly capture them, you will receive even more.”

He lifted his arms and began showing vivid portraits one by one. Among them was a lady with bluish-gray eyes, wearing a man’s shirt.

Leticia Dorella… Klein recognized at a glance who the rebels were seeking.

It was the female archaeologist and adventurer he had encountered the previous night and traveled with that morning, the suspected member of either the Moses Ascetic Order or the Elemental Dawn.

Danitz studied the portraits carefully for two seconds, faintly feeling that they looked familiar.

Suddenly, he remembered where he had seen them:

Gehrman Sparrow, standing beside him, had displayed them in his dream!

He only asked the captain in the afternoon, and at night we already encounter a related incident… His information-gathering ability is too powerful, isn’t it? Danitz suppressed the impulse to glance at the mad adventurer beside him, afraid that Kalat, Edmonton, and the others would notice something abnormal.

In this respect, he was still experienced.

The Sea God-believing rebels are searching for Leticia… Sea God’s faith spreads throughout the Rorsted Archipelago, including Simim… A snake appeared last night… Sea God’s image is that of a gigantic sea serpent… Klein overlapped the two matters and soon made a preliminary judgment:

The archaeologist Leticia and her companions had obtained an important object related to Sea God from a forgotten temple in the primeval forest of Simim Island, resulting in last night’s probe and the rebels’ search!

Klein thought briefly, then gave a perfunctory answer.

“I will keep an eye out.”

I will not recklessly get involved in matters connected to evil spirits. Of course, if necessary, I will report it… he silently added in his heart.

Kalat nodded.

“Take a look first and see if there is anything you want.”

Klein walked over and was about to choose while asking questions when something stirred inside him. He instinctively looked toward the right side of the pile of objects.

There lay a short sword crafted from a long, slender bone. It was slightly longer than a forearm, milky-white from tip to hilt, with several deep, dark-red markings.

It can stir my spiritual intuition… Klein extended his right hand, intending to pick up the sharp-tipped bone sword and examine it carefully.

The moment his fingers touched it, one despairing, agonized cry after another suddenly echoed in his mind. At the tip of his nose, he faintly smelled a dense, foul stench of blood, while before his eyes he seemed to see twisted, rotting, illusory figures wrapped in mucus.

Pain stabbed through Klein’s forehead like needles. He instinctively withdrew his fingers.

Rather sinister… This is not a simple object… Having experienced far more intense sensations before, Klein’s expression changed only subtly.

He suppressed the impulse to activate spirit vision, afraid that he would see something he should not.

Noticing this scene, Kalat and Edmonton exchanged a glance. Smiling, Kalat spoke.

“That bone sword can drain an enemy’s blood dry. It is quite good. Do you want it?”

He is a little too eager… Klein frowned slightly, then relaxed again. In a deep voice, he said, “No. There is nothing here I want.”

If Kalat had not asked, he had originally intended to buy the bone sword and bring it above the gray fog for study. But the other party’s proactive promotion instantly made him wary. Rationally, he gave up on the earlier plan.

Kalat clasped his hands together.

“It is not expensive.

“Or would you like to look at the others again?”

“No need.” Klein’s pupils abruptly contracted. He turned directly and walked toward the door.

Danitz hesitated briefly, then hurried after him.

Edmonton, whose arm bore the sea-serpent tattoo, watched silently, as though he might reach out to stop them at any moment. In the end, however, he did nothing.

That was a powerful adventurer who had killed Steel Maviti, Bloodthorn Huntley, and the others!

After leaving the room, Klein said not a word. He descended the stairs with quick, heavy steps. Danitz hastened to follow, inexplicably alarmed.

He read the situation and did not ask questions. He merely followed.

The two soon returned to the square. Once again, the crowd that had gathered to kneel or prostrate themselves scattered and hid.

Yet unlike before, one man remained kneeling on the ground without moving.

Klein did not look sideways. He passed straight by without the slightest pause.

Danitz instinctively glanced over and discovered that the man’s face was dry, like stone long weathered by wind.

Snap!

A piece of flesh suddenly fell from the man’s cheek, together with a patch of bearded skin. It landed on the ground, gray in color.

His entire body seemed to have lost all its moisture.

Danitz was startled and no longer dared look around. He felt only that, at some unknown point, things had become strange and dangerous.

They passed through street after street, alley after alley, left that district, and boarded a hired carriage.

The coachman was clearly a local native, around forty years old, smiling pleasantly and looking quite amiable.

Yet during the journey, he did not say a single word. His silence made Danitz’s heart beat like a drum.

Klein pressed his lips together, equally silent.

The hired carriage soon arrived in the Dock District. Because they needed to change disguises, Danitz had it stop somewhere far from Sour Lemon Street.

After stepping down, Klein did not pay the fare. He did not pause either, simply striding away. Danitz stared in stunned disbelief.

He tossed two soli to the coachman and hurried after Gehrman Sparrow.

After chasing a few steps, he unconsciously turned to look back, only to see the coachman kneel with a face full of fanaticism and devotion. Prostrating himself to the ground, tears streaming down his face, he kissed the place Klein had just stepped on.