Chapter 220: Information Broker

Chapter 220: Information Broker

The Primordial Creator? Klein froze for a moment, then immediately thought of the information Old Kohler had given him earlier:

Recently, some people had been spreading belief in the original Creator in the East Borough, Dock District, and Factory District. They claimed that He had not truly passed away, that He existed within everyone’s body and within every object, and that so long as one served and praised Him with all one’s heart, not only could one receive salvation after death and enter His kingdom, but one’s current life would greatly improve as well. For example, every day one could eat sizzling, oil-dripping meat.

This was very close to the Aurora Order’s variant theory of the Creator. At the time, Klein had judged that it was done by that hidden organization, feeling that after the Lanevus incident, they had begun to value the vast masses of the poor.

Have they developed so brazenly that they’re recruiting believers on the street? Klein considered his answer.

“I have heard of Him.”

The middle-aged man in old clothing immediately revealed a smile.

“Then do you know that the apocalypse is about to descend? Do you know that the Primordial Creator will establish a sanctuary on earth to protect His believers?”

For a split second, Klein wanted to follow along and be preached to, slowly infiltrate the Aurora Order’s peripheral organization, collect corresponding evidence and clues, and retaliate against their search for the Fool’s believers. But after careful consideration, he felt that this was too dangerous. Relying on himself alone would be exhausting, troublesome, and might not even be effective.

In the end, he decided to report this current phenomenon to the Machinery Hivemind and let the official organization handle it!

Having thought this through, Klein’s expression instantly darkened.

“I do not know, and I do not want to know!”

He strode forward, leaving the other man behind and ignoring the middle-aged man’s calls.

On the road out of the East Borough, he observed carefully and discovered that many workers who had lost their jobs because of the improvement of textile machines and the docks entering the off-season were gathering in groups of three or five, listening to the comfort and teachings of unidentified people.

The investigation of the East Borough, Dock District, and Factory District was completed two months ago. Why haven’t the three Churches and Parliament come up with concrete measures yet? They definitely pay more attention to this side now. There’s no way they haven’t noticed the current situation… Are they trying to cast a long line to catch a big fish? This—this can very easily get out of hand! While inwardly criticizing the situation, Klein pressed his duckbill cap and left the East Borough, heading straight for the Backlund Bridge area.

At noon, Bravehearts Bar had only just opened. There were hardly any drunks, only busy workers nearby entering to order simple lunches.

Klein mingled among them and spent ten pence ordering oat bread with pork sausage and a cup of Southville beer, appearing very wealthy.

After unhurriedly filling his stomach and drinking the beer, he looked toward the bartender.

“Is Kaspars Kalinin here?”

He intended to replenish ordinary ammunition along the way.

The bartender glanced at him.

“You seem to have not come here for quite a while.

“Kaspars is dead. They say he was restless while sleeping at night, wrapped himself too tightly, and smothered himself to death. Heh, I don’t really believe such a thing could happen. I’ve only heard similar stories in ghost tales, but that’s what those black-and-white dogs said.”

“Black-and-white dogs” referred to police officers wearing black-and-white checkered uniforms.

Smothered to death by his own quilt? That sounds very mystical… Was it because that Rose School of Thought high-sequence powerhouse never managed to find Miss Sharron and Maric, so he chose to kill someone to vent his anger? Where’s the status of a high-sequence powerhouse? Looking at it this way, Kaspars probably can’t contact Miss Sharron and the others anymore… Perhaps they have already left Backlund…

Kaspars still underestimated the dangers of the supernatural world. If it were me, I definitely wouldn’t have returned to Bravehearts Bar. I would have taken my savings and changed cities and environments long ago… Under normal circumstances, however, a high-sequence powerhouse wouldn’t specifically target an ordinary person like this. At most, during forced spirit channeling, they might not consider whether there would be aftereffects… As expected of the Rose School of Thought that indulges desires. A high-sequence powerhouse actually did something like this…

Klein felt both astonished and sympathetic toward that black-market arms dealer.

The bartender wiped a glass and continued, “If you want to buy some items, there’s a new merchant now.”

“Who?” Klein asked casually.

“‘Old Man.’ He’s in billiards room number three,” the bartender said without lifting his head.

Klein immediately rose and strolled slowly toward that familiar place, knocking on the half-closed wooden door.

“Come in,” a voice sounded from within.

That voice sounds a little familiar… Klein pushed open the wooden door and looked inside.

Standing beside the billiards table was a boy who was not particularly old. He wore an old overcoat and a brown round hat. His eyes were bright red. It was Ian, whom Klein had met when he first came to Backlund. Because of Ian’s commission involving the disappearance of Detective Zreal, Klein had been dragged into the struggle over the third-generation difference engine manuscript, eventually having to spend a large sum to hire Mr. A of the Aurora Order to kill Intis Ambassador to the Loen Kingdom, Beckland Jean Madan.

“It’s you, Detective Moriarty?” Ian was startled.

He had deliberately stuck two little mustaches above his lips, making himself appear mature.

Klein smiled and entered the billiards room, casually closing the door behind him.

“Long time no see.”

At first, he was rather surprised that Ian had appeared here and become a black-market arms dealer. But he quickly thought of several details and felt it was reasonable:

The reason Klein had found Bravehearts Bar and Kaspars Kalinin had come precisely from Ian’s introduction.

This older boy definitely had a certain network in the area!

“Yes.” Ian restrained his shocked expression and muttered, “I spent two months trying to make my way in Port Pritz, but I discovered those fellows were barbaric and vicious, showing not the slightest courtesy or care toward children. I had no choice but to return to Backlund and pick up what I’m good at again. Later, after Kaspars died, I decided to change trades.”

Before Klein could speak, he added, “Mr. Detective, I have always remembered that I still owe you two requests.”

There’s no need to explain so much. I don’t really care what you did in the past. Although I’ve always felt there was something suspicious about your escape from MI9, I’m not too concerned… Klein picked up a cue stick and tested his posture.

“Other than underground weapons trading, you seem to sell information as well?”

“Yes,” Ian answered very frankly. “What do you want to know? Free of charge.”

Quite generous… Because he feels guilty over the previous matter? Klein struck the cue ball, sending a red ball accurately into the middle pocket.

He did not stand on ceremony. Straightening, he said, “Recently, many people have been searching for the Fool’s believers, and there are many bounties. Do you have any news?”

Ian thought carefully and said, “No.

“I even suspect whether the Fool has any believers at all. No one has been able to find the slightest clue.”

…This is what they call firing a cannon at empty air… Klein silently mocked himself, then changed the question.

“Also, there is another bounty. Someone is searching for a university lecturer named Azik Eggers. I want to know who issued this bounty, so I can confirm whether I should get involved. Heh, searching for people is very time-consuming.”

Ian did not answer directly. He looked around once, lowered his voice, and said, “MI9.”

MI9? Not the Spirit Order… Looks like this really is Ince Zangwill’s arrangement, causing Mr. Azik to come into conflict with MI9? Perhaps he learned some secret he should not have known? A series of thoughts flashed through Klein’s mind. In the end, he smiled and said, “Then it seems I don’t need to worry that the bounty is fake. But I’m very afraid that this Azik Eggers is being tracked by MI9 because he possesses some secret. If so, perhaps the day I receive the bounty will be the final moment of my life.”

Ian spread his hands.

“I don’t know about that.

“But you can provide only clues.”

“A decent suggestion.” Klein asked no more. He spent five soli replenishing some ordinary bullets, then left Bravehearts Bar.

Boarding a rental carriage, he looked at the gloomy weather outside the window and suddenly felt somewhat wistful.

“Kaspars Kalinin is dead, which means Miss Sharron and Maric will abandon this ‘stronghold.’ As someone who can only contact them one-way, I’ll find it very difficult to locate them again…

“Unless they encounter trouble and need help, or it reaches the stage where we deal with that evil spirit in the underground ruins, I probably won’t see them.

“Although they don’t quite count as friends, we did cooperate twice. They were acquaintances with whom I could interact as a Beyonder without having to conceal my face. Now, the number of people like that has dropped by a full two.

“If not for having just experienced the Apostle of Desire incident, the only person left with whom I could speak about the mysterious domain without disguise would be that oddball vampire Emlyn White.

“Good thing, good thing…”

Amid his silent sigh, Klein suddenly heard an illusory, drifting voice beside his ear.

“What do you need?”

Klein’s hair instantly stood on end. Only after seeing clearly who was seated before him did he breathe out in relief and laugh helplessly.

“Miss Sharron, do you always appear so soundlessly?”

Sharron, wearing a gothic court dress and a small black soft hat, was sitting quietly on the other side of the carriage compartment. Her face was as pale as ever.

“Next time, I will knock on the window,” Sharron nodded without emotional fluctuation.

She did not repeat her previous question. She simply looked at Klein, quiet and reserved.

Knocking on the window out of nowhere? That would be just as frightening… Klein did not hurry to mention the Human-skinned Shadow. Instead, he asked, “Has that high-sequence powerhouse left?”

“Yes.” Sharron uttered a single word.

Klein relaxed slightly and gave a reminder. “It might also be a trap.”

At this point, he remembered something and hurriedly added, “I finished reading the Book of Secrets and obtained corresponding information from other channels. Praying to the Primordial Moon is very likely to cause problems. It is best not to try.”

“All right.” Sharron did not ask why.

After pausing for a second, she said in an ethereal voice, “The Primordial Moon and the Chained God are suspected to be mortal enemies.”

Because their Sequences can be interchanged? Or for some other reason? Klein thoughtfully guided the conversation back to the main topic.

“Miss Sharron, do you know where there is a Human-skinned Shadow characteristic?”

Sharron, like a living doll, listened calmly and nodded.

“I know.”