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…