Chapter 163: Mr. Heras

Chapter One Hundred Sixty-Three
Mr. Heras

Inside the room filled with the hollow, ethereal fragrance of Amanda hydrosol and Eye of Spirit potion, Capim’s subordinate, controlled by the possessed Klein, continuously recited The Fool’s honorific name.

Amid the monotonous yet rhythmic murmuring, amid the scent that made it difficult to concentrate, the man’s Spirit Body gradually spread outward. His whole person became dazed and muddled, yet he maintained a strange degree of clarity, as though undergoing self-hypnosis.

With “help” from Klein in Spirit Body form, and under the feedback brought by chanting The Fool’s honorific name, he entered, little by little, the state of “artificial somnambulism.” His Astral Body drew close to that gray fog at an infinitely high place, close to the mysterious place above the gray fog.

Klein seized this opportunity, ended the summoning, returned to the towering, ancient palace, and sat in the seat belonging to The Fool.

He saw clear light ripple outward in rings beside him, sketching the illusory figure of Capim’s subordinate. Under the ritual’s influence, this mysterious space trembled slightly, and some power had been leveraged and was slowly flowing.

Klein picked up the Black Emperor card and made a paper figurine appear in his palm.

With a flick of his wrist, the paper figurine flew out, absorbing the bits of power leveraged above the gray fog. It transformed into a man wearing a gray-black flat cap and a thick cotton coat—identical to Capim’s subordinate, even in aura and feeling.

The paper figurine overlapped with the target’s illusory image, replacing him and bearing the mysterious, unknown restriction within his Spirit Body.

At the same time, Klein held the Black Emperor card, extended his spirituality, and touched the phantom of Capim’s subordinate outlined by the clear radiance.

This was an application of secret pact elements: a weak human slowly harmonizing with a great existence, feeling the corresponding knowledge and obtaining a marvelous spiritual experience. The difference from ordinary cases was that here, Klein was the one playing the role of the great existence.

And in this state of close harmonization, interaction ran both ways. Since a human could obtain knowledge from a great existence, a great existence could naturally read the scenes it desired by asking questions.

If Klein had mastered Beyonder abilities in the mental domain, he could even plant suggestions through this.

“Who are the formidable figures inside Capim’s villa?” Klein asked through the interacting spirituality.

The illusory figure possessed no resistance at all. It transmitted the scenes in its memory, letting Klein feel as though he were watching a holographic film:

The man in the flat cap stood inside a room, both fearful and respectful. Before him was a middle-aged gentleman wearing a black tailcoat and a white wig.

This gentleman had a long, thin, stern face. His lips were naturally pressed together, giving him an unusually cold impression.

Following the gold chain, he took out a pocket watch of the same color, pressed it open, and glanced at it. Then he spoke in a low, heavy voice:

“Look at me.”

The man in the flat cap did not dare disobey. He lifted his head and looked forward.

“Yes, Mr. Heras.”

Before his words had even faded, he saw a pair of eyes flashing with strange light and heard a commanding voice:

“Keep the secret!

“You are not to reveal anything you see or hear in this villa to anyone outside.”

The man in the flat cap inexplicably trembled, feeling that he had to obey the other party’s command.

Once more, he lowered his head.

“Yes, Mr. Heras.”

…

The man in the flat cap carried an unconscious young girl down the stairs and arrived at the entrance to the underground area.

There, in a small partitioned room, sat a bearded, hulking man of indeterminate age.

The bearded man had a pair of cold, intimidating blue eyes. In his hand was a piece of fine velvet cloth, and he was carefully wiping down the complex grayish-white rifle placed on the table.

The rifle was thick and long, connected by tubes to an enormous mechanical box of the same color.

It was a high-pressure steam rifle!

A military-controlled item!

“Mr. Bellis…” the man in the flat cap greeted him with a lowered head, clearly prepared in advance.

…

The man in the flat cap entered an underground structure laid out neatly like a prison and locked the unconscious girl into one of the small rooms.

He locked the door, returned to the corridor, and lifted the lantern assigned to him.

Just then, he saw a figure slowly approaching from the depths of the corridor at the other end.

That figure’s eyes seemed able to see through the darkness. She carried no lighting device at all.

With the help of the lantern light, the man in the flat cap discovered that it was a woman around thirty.

The woman wore a brown soft hat whose middle was upturned, a thin white shirt, suspender trousers, and a pair of cowhide-colored boots that reached her knees.

Several old scars marked her face, and a cruel smile always lingered at the corners of her mouth.

The man in the flat cap lowered his head in fear and surprise, mumbling, “Madam Katie…”

The woman ignored him. Step by step, she approached, then passed him, as though he were only a piece of air.

Only after the woman known as Katie had gone far away did the man in the flat cap curl his lip and mutter, “Bitch! She’d be wilder than a whore in bed!”

He thrust his hips once, picked up the lantern, and left the underground area.

…

The man in the flat cap encountered two gentlemen inside the magnificent, gold-glittering hall.

One of them stood around one meter sixty-five, was somewhat plump, and had no remarkable facial features. Yet his gaze always terrified people. The other was a little over one meter seventy, looked rather old, and had faint forehead wrinkles. His nose bridge was high, his brown eyes spirited, and he did not appear threatening.

“Mr. Capim…” The man in the flat cap first greeted the slightly plump middle-aged man, then addressed the other. “Mr. Parker…”

…

Morning light streamed in faintly. At the entrance to the underground area, the man in the flat cap encountered the cold middle-aged gentleman known as Mr. Heras.

Heras, wearing a white wig, glanced at him standing respectfully to the side. Paying him no mind, Heras stretched out his right palm toward the entrance to the underground area and spoke in a dignified, deep voice:

“Confinement!”

Silently, the surrounding sensation underwent a subtle change.

…

Four Beyonders in total, at least four… The strongest should be that Mr. Heras. At the very least Sequence 6, perhaps even Sequence 5… I wonder what pathway. It bears some resemblance to the Black Emperor pathway… Relying on order, issuing laws? Judging from the scene just now, the seal should only apply to the underground area and not the entire villa. That makes sense. During the day, people come and go. If the whole villa were sealed, entry and exit would become far too troublesome… I wonder whether it is the same at night…

Analyzing the intelligence he had just obtained, Klein asked again, “What is the overall layout of the villa?”

He swiftly received feedback. He saw the gold and splendid hall, the elegant, spacious dining room, the corridor running through the first floor, the washrooms, the underground area, and other scenes.

Through them, Klein pieced together a rough map of Capim’s villa in his mind.

Feeling his spirituality being consumed, he asked his final question:

“Which important figures does Capim have close ties with?”

The scene that appeared before his eyes was the same gold and magnificent hall from earlier. One half-naked young girl after another either crawled forward to serve wine and drinks to the guests, allowed themselves to be beaten and toyed with, or were dragged directly to some secluded place to be violated.

They were all very young. Their expressions were pained and numb. If they showed the slightest hesitation, or failed to seem enthusiastic enough, Capim’s male servants or maids would whip them.

Those servants witnessed these sinful scenes yet displayed not the slightest sympathy. Instead, they competed to show themselves off, trying to obtain praise.

Among the guests, Klein saw Capim. He saw the cold Mr. Heras. He saw Vadra, a Member of Parliament who often appeared in the newspapers. He saw a fat man referred to as a deputy commissioner…

…

A deputy commissioner from the Backlund Police Department? That is already a high-ranking figure in the police system… Not one of the servants is decent… Then again, of course. The villa would definitely screen them in advance and keep only those trustworthy enough…

Klein rubbed his forehead and ended that state of close harmonization—the man in the flat cap was only a minor leader, so the things he could know or participate in were limited to these.

And even now, the mysterious unknown restriction had still not been triggered.

Klein ended the ritual, letting the other party’s figure vanish from above the gray fog. He himself returned to the real world immediately afterward.

Inside the room filled with hollow, illusory fragrance, he sat at the edge of the bed and looked at the flat-capped man unconscious on the floor. Based on the intelligence he had just obtained, he analyzed the feasibility of the performance and considered one plan after another.

In the end, Klein formed a definite idea and silently muttered to himself:

“Perhaps I do not need helpers…

“Helpers might instead drag me down, making it inconvenient for me to escape when danger comes.

“The timing must be chosen well. That is extremely important.”

…

Nearly fifty minutes later, the man in the black-gray flat cap appeared in the East Borough, making straight for the streets controlled by the Zmanger gang.

The moment he saw several dark-skinned, lean, fierce-looking Highlanders, he immediately moved closer and pretended not to watch where he was going, knocking into one of them.

“Damn it! You garbage!” the man in the flat cap cursed loudly and swung a fist at them.

The Highlanders, fond of fighting to begin with, showed no weakness and tangled with him at once.

During the struggle, the man in the flat cap drew his dagger, and the Highlanders also revealed their weapons.

Puchi!

Amid the fight, one dagger failed to dodge in time and stabbed into the flat-capped man’s neck, striking the artery perfectly.

The man in the flat cap collapsed. Fresh red blood spread in a pool around his head.

Soon, he lost his life, and an illusory, transparent figure inside him vanished immediately afterward.

Klein returned above the gray fog. Using that as a stepping stone, he reentered his own body and opened his eyes inside the cheap hotel in Cherwood Borough.

He dealt with the remaining traces and went to the front desk to check out.

Returning all the way to Minsk Street, Klein once again entered above the gray fog.

He needed to divine one simple yet crucial piece of information!

He picked up the fountain pen and wrote a line:

“The time of Capim’s dinner today.”