Finally, the elderly man, with gray hair by his temples, took a sip of tea and sighed with a smile.
"In truth, this is already much better than my previous situation, and it's much better than many of the people here. For instance..."
He pointed out the window to the tramps huddled in a corner.
Klein and Mike looked over and saw a group of cowering tramps lying on the ground in a filthy place that provided shelter from the wind. They were of all sexes and ages.
It was possible for them to never wake up again in the coldness of late autumn.
It was then that Klein noticed an old woman in her sixties standing by the street. Her dress was old and worn, but she was relatively neat, and her hair was neatly trimd.
The white-haired old lady had the usual tired look of a tramp, but she still persisted in not squeezing together with the group. Instead, she slowly walked by the roadside, occasionally gazing into the coffee shop numbly.
"She's also a pitiful person." The forr tramp who had eaten the leftover black bread also noticed the old lady and sighed, "She was said to have led quite a good life in the past. Her husband was a grain rchant and had a very spirited child, but unfortunately, he went bankrupt and her husband and child died not long after. She's different from us, really, and you can tell at a glance... Sigh, she won't be able to hold on much longer, unless she's lucky to be admitted into the workhouse every ti."
As he listened, Mike's expression changed from quiet to somber. He slowly let out a sigh and said, "I want to interview her. Can you invite her for ? She can eat and drink whatever she wants here."
The man wasn't surprised by this request. He rely looked at Klein and Mike separately, as if to say: "the both of you are indeed colleagues."
"Yes, I'm sure she would like that." He drank his tea, got up, and walked out of the greasy coffee shop.
Not long after, the elderly woman in her old but tidy dress followed him in. Her pale face slightly lightened thanks to the warmth of the coffee shop.
She continued to tremble, as if she wanted to release the coldness in her body, bit by bit, and absorb the relatively high temperature within the coffee shop. Even after she sat down on the chair, it still took her a full minute before she could truly warm up.
"You can order whatever you want. This is the reward for accepting this interview," Klein spoke on Mike's behalf.
After Mike nodded, the old lady modestly ordered toast, low-quality cream, and coffee. Then she smiled and said, "I heard that one cannot eat greasy food after not having eaten in a while."
Very polite, very self-restrained, not like a tramp at all... Klein sighed silently.
Before the food arrived, Mike asked casually, "Can you talk about how you beca a tramp?" @@@@
The old lady revealed a look of reminiscence and said with a bitter smile, "My husband was a grain rchant who mainly bought all kinds of grain from dostic farrs, but we rapidly went bankrupt ever since the Grain Act was repealed.
"He wasn't very young to begin with. After suffering that setback, his body quickly collapsed. Not long after, he passed away.
"My child, a brilliant young man, had been learning the ropes of doing business from his father. He couldn't suffer the blow, and he ended up jumping into the Tussock River on a moonless night.
"His first suicide didn't work. He was sent to the magistrate's court, and the police and judges were very impatient, feeling that he was wasting their ti.
"If you want to commit suicide, please do so quietly and successfully. Don't trouble us... Yes, that was probably what they wanted to say, but they found it too direct.
"My child was put in prison. Not long after, he committed suicide for the second ti and succeeded."
The old lady spoke very calmly, as though it wasn't sothing that had happened to her.
But for so reason, Klein felt a deep sense of sorrow.
Nothing is more lantable than a dead heart... He suddenly recalled the saying he had heard in his previous life.
In this world, suicide was not only prohibited by the Churches, but it was a punishable cri.
As for the reason, Klein knew very well why. First of all, many suicides were committed by jumping into a river, and without being discovered in ti, there was a certain probability of them turning into a water ghost. Second, the suicider often had very abnormal emotions. Thus, under such states, ending their lives was equivalent to a sacrificial offering which could resonate with particular strange and terrifying existences.
Thus, their corpses and certain objects that were around after them after their deaths would carry strange curses that hard others.
This was probably where the Misfortune Cloth Puppet behind Tingen City's Chanis Gate ca from.
Therefore, the seven Orthodox Churches forbade their believers from committing suicide through their own doctrine, and the royal family also promoted the corresponding legislation.
Of course, this seed ridiculous to Klein. How could a suicider be afraid of punishnt by the law?
While Mike was taking notes, he was about to say sothing when the owner of the coffee shop brought the food over.
"Fill your stomach first, we'll talk later." Mike pointed to the toast.
"Alright." The old lady ate the food in small bites, appearing very cultured.
Having not ordered much, she quickly finished her al.
After reluctantly drinking the last mouthful of coffee, she rubbed her temples and pleaded, "Can I get so sleep first? It's too cold outside."
"No problem," Mike answered without hesitation.
The old lady thanked him gratefully a few tis before she sat down on the chair and curled up into a ball as she fell asleep.
Mike looked at the man beside him and said, "You seem to be very familiar with this place. I wish to hire you as our guide. How's three soli for the day? I'm sorry, I forgot to ask for your na."
The man quickly shook his head and said, "No, no, that is too much. I only earn one soli a day most of the ti at the dock.
"Just call Old Kohler.
"Then, two soli a day. You deserve it," Mike decided firmly.
After witnessing this strange bargaining, Klein blew into a piece of tissue and was about to drink another cup of coffee, when he suddenly sensed that sothing was wrong. He turned to look at the old lady who was curled up, asleep on the chair.
Her face, which had turned ruddy due to the coffee, was pale again. The colors of her aura and moods had vanished.
"..." Klein stood up and subconsciously extended his hand to check the old lady's breathing.
As Mike and Kohler looked at him in surprise, he said heavily, "She's dead."
Mike opened his mouth, but no words ca out. Kohler tapped his chest thrice and said with a bitter smile, "I knew she wouldn't be able to hold on for long...
"Such things happen every day in East Borough.
"At least she filled her stomach and died in a warm place. I hope—heh heh, I hope it will be the sa for in the future."
Klein was silent for a mont before he said, "Kohler, go and get the police."
"Alright." Kohler tapped his chest thrice once more and ran out of the coffee shop.
The boss glanced over but didn't co over. It was as though it wasn't sothing he needed to concern himself with.
After a while, a policeman in a black-and-white checkered uniform, carrying a baton and revolver, entered the coffee shop.
He looked at the dead old lady, asked Mike and Klein a few questions, then he waved his hand and said, "That's all there is to this. The three of you can leave after I get soone to collect the corpse."
"That's it?" Mike blurted out in surprise.
He was obviously not very familiar with East Borough.
The policeman sneered.
"Such incidents happen in large numbers every day in East Borough!"
He rolled his eyes and looked at Klein and Mike.
"You don't look like people from around here. Who are you? What's your identity?"
Mike produced his press identification, and Klein said that he was a private detective responsible for protecting him.
The policeman's face turned serious as he looked at Klein and said, "I suspect that you're carrying a gun illegally!
"I want to search your belongings. Please cooperate with ; otherwise, it will be considered a case of resisting arrest!"
Mike was suddenly worried because he knew that private detectives were usually unlawfully possessing firearms.
Klein expressionlessly spread out his hands.
"Alright."
He let the policeman search him, but nothing was found on him.
After the old lady's corpse was taken away, the disappointed policeman left. Mike clenched his fist and pounded on the table.
"A living person just died here; yet, all he cares about is investigating the unlawful possession of firearms!?"
Upon saying this, Mike looked at Klein and asked, puzzled, "You didn't bring a gun?"
Klein shook his head, pulled out his holster and revolver from under the table, and said calmly, "As a detective, I have a lot of experience in this area."
As a Magician, he could place the revolver right in front of soone and make it impossible for the person to notice it.
Moreover, since he didn't buy any ordinary bullets, the Beyonder bullets were temporarily left above the gray fog. His revolver was currently empty, but this didn't stop him from shooting with his revolver. All he needed to do was to use his mouth to emulate a "bang" when he pulled the trigger.
Upon seeing this, Old Kohler whispered from the side, "So you're a detective."
Klein pointed at Mike and casually explained, "I was also entrusted with a mission by this gentleman the last ti as well."
Mike sat there without refuting. After a mont of silence, he said, "Although I've investigated the gangs and witnessed the miserable life of so prostitutes, I'm not familiar with the situation in East Borough. Please help open my eyes to this place, allowing to see if there are any problems with this investigation plan."
As he spoke, he took a few sheets of paper from the inside pocket of his clothes and spread them out on the coffee shop table.
Klein glanced at him.
"Interviews with East Borough residents of different ages?
"That's too troubleso, I think we can divide it according to location. In better apartnts, five or six people squeeze into a one-room apartnt. Others stay in the corner of a street that's sheltered from the wind, park benches, bars, and workhouses.
"In addition, they can be segregated by what ti they begin work, and when their rest tis are."
Mike listened carefully and nodded.
"Not a bad idea. What do you think, Kohler?"
Old Kohler pinched his nose and said, "I can't read... but I think whatever Mr. Detective said seems alright."
Mike thought about it, changed his plan, and said, "Then let's go to a nearby apartnt and make a random selection."
-x-X-x-
Backlund's East Borough, at an intersection.
Mike Joseph saw a number of pitiful-looking children in rags along the street. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and planned to head over to give them so pennies.
However, his action was stopped by the forr tramp, Old Kohler.
"They're thieves!"
"Thieves? What about their parents? Or are they controlled by the gangs?" As a senior journalist, Mike had never been to the East Borough, but he had heard of instances of a few gangs controlling street children to steal and beg.
"Parents? They either don't have parents, or their parents were once thieves or might still be thieves. Of course, Mr. Reporter, you're right, many of them are under the control of gangs, and it's said that the gangs will teach them how to steal. For example, they will hang a gentleman's coat on a wall, put a handkerchief in the pocket, and hang a pocket watch on the outside, and through repeated practice, the children will attempt to steal the handkerchief without shaking the pocket watch. Heh, this is what I heard from others while at the workhouse when I was holess." Old Kohler babbled on, "I rember the youngest thief ever caught on this street was only six years old. Sigh, six years old..."
He seed to recall his child who was lost to a disease and couldn't help but take out a cigarette from his pocket. He couldn't bring himself to smoke it, so all he did was take a sniff.
"Six years old..." Mike was stunned by this number.
Klein quietly listened and sighed.
"This is East Borough."
He looked around, composed himself, and said, "This place is closer to the jungle than to human society.
"Our interview has to be treated as an adventure. You have to learn how to avoid the territory of dangerous creatures, but you must also avoid those little things that don't seem to be too harmful to you. Well, I'm talking about mosquitoes in the jungle.
"Mike, if you expose the thickness of your wallet to those kids, then even if you protect it well and don't let them steal it, robbery is a destined outco during the rest of the adventure. If you dare to resist, then perhaps there will be one more body floating in the Tussock River tomorrow morning."
"Mr. Detective, you're absolutely right! There are so many people in East Borough. No one pays notice to the few missing people every day," Old Kohler agreed.
Mike listened intently for a few seconds, and after a few seconds of silence, he suddenly said, "1.35 million."
"Huh?" Because of his cold, Klein's throat was obviously a little hoarse.
Mike stepped forward and said, "This is a preliminary estimate of the population count of East Borough.
"But I know that there's definitely more than that."
"That many?" Old Kohler was startled.
Although he had experienced the days and nights in East Borough and knew that there were a lot of residents here, he didn't expect there to be this many.
This is several tis the population of Tingen City... Klein subconsciously compared it with the place that was most familiar to him.
He looked at the intersection a few steps away and asked, "Which way should we go next?"
Old Kohler looked up and said, "Definitely not straight. That area is under the control of the Zmanger gang. They're very vicious and completely unreasonable. If they discover any reporters doing interviews, then they'll definitely beat us up!"
The Zmanger gang? Isn't that the "brainless" gang that caused to lose 10,000 pounds? He was so kind of executioner. Hmm, I don't even rember his na... Fortunately, the 10,000 pounds was eventually exchanged for the Seer's corresponding Sequence 7, 6, and 5 potion formulas and the All-Black Eye, as well as the Intis Ambassador's life... I wonder who ended up obtaining the manuscript of the third-generation difference engine... Klein instantly recalled what had happened early last month.
"Zmanger gang? The gang that is mainly composed of highlanders?" Mike asked thoughtfully.
"Mr. Reporter, have you heard of them?" Old Kohler asked in surprise. @@@@
Mike sneered.
"They're involved in a lot of cases, and they have so reputation outside East Borough as well. It's said that one of the mbers was involved in a case of Intis espionage."
... The person next to you was the person in question, the person who made the report, and also the victim... Klein silently added.
"If you gentlen know about the Zmanger gang, then why doesn't the police arrest them?" Old Kohler asked from his viewpoint, of soone at the bottom of society.
Mike's expression suddenly turned a little awkward, and he coughed twice.
"We can only capture those who have committed cris. There is no evidence for the rest, so we can't arrest them. Moreover, East Borough is so broad, and there are so many people. It would be hard to find anyone who is bent on hiding."
As he spoke, he sighed.
"It's easy to destroy one Zmanger gang, but as long as a highlander cos to Backlund, and if they keep up their strong tradition of being combative while failing to find any other ans of earning a living, it's only a matter of ti before a new Zmanger gang appears."
This is a complex social issue... Klein pointed to the left and right.
"Pick one."
Old Kohler looked at the right side of the street.
"That's where the Proscrito gang is active. As long as we don't provoke the girls who do business on the streets or in the bars, they won't notice us. Heh heh, it's still morning, so there shouldn't be any problems. They're still sleeping."
The word "Proscrito" ant "outlaw" in the Loen language, so it could be said that the gang who gave itself such a na was pretty self-aware.
Klein and Mike had no objection to this, and with the guide leading the way, they entered the district.
The buildings here were relatively better. The streets were less squalid, and the air was filled with the slls of oyster soup, fried fish, ginger beer, and the sll of various food and beverages left behind by street vendors, as well as the fishy sll of fish-related products.
While walking here, Klein felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity. It was as if he had returned to Tingen City, to Iron Cross Street, and to the street outside the apartnt where he had originally lived in.
The only difference was that Backlund was closer to the sea and had more traffic. There was a lot more fish.
"This is a relatively good apartnt in this area. Back when I loitered around here, I discovered that the gentlen and ladies inside are all, hmm—quite clean." Old Kohler pointed to a pale yellow three-story building.
As they got closer, they noticed a sign hanging in front of the apartnt. It had a picture of a pocket watch, a clock, and a screwdriver, with the words "Watch Repair."
"A watch craftsman lives here?" Klein dug up a similar scene from the mory fragnts of the original Klein.
Back then, Benson, lissa, and himself had gone to sowhere similar to repair the silver pocket watch which his father had left behind, but despite repairing it several tis, it would quickly break. This continued until lissa fiddled with it and ultimately fully repaired it. It beca the most decent thing on Klein's person during that period of ti.
After Klein's "death", the pocket watch, which had both monetary and sentintal value, was not buried with him.
It should now belong to Benson, right? I wonder if he will think of every ti he takes out that pocket watch... Klein suddenly blinked and curled the corner of his lips.
"Probably." Mike wasn't sure.
If anything went wrong with his pocket watch, it was usually sent to the original watch store he bought it from. The store would then send it to a repairman or to a craftsman who had partnered with them.
As soon as they entered the apartnt, they saw a middle-aged man with a ssy beard.
The gentleman had just co out of the bathroom and was about to return to his room. When he saw the three strangers co in, he hurriedly asked, "Do you want to repair sothing?"
What a coincidence... We actually t the craftsman imdiately... Klein was slightly puzzled.
Mike took out his pocket watch, smiled, and said, "Yes, my pocket watch has recently not been keeping ti well. Can you help take a look?"
He didn't reveal his identity and planned to interview him over so casual chit chat.
The middle-aged man imdiately revealed a smile and led them into a two-bedroom apartnt which had its door half concealed. He pointed at a chair beside the table and said, "Please wait a mont. I'll go get my tools."
"Your tools are not at ho?" Mike asked in surprise.
The watch craftsman shook his head and laughed.
"How is that possible?
"A set of tools is very expensive. There's no way I can buy them on my own. The only way is to pool everyone's money together to buy three or four sets, and whoever has business will use them. So, we moved in together. Heh heh, it's more convenient this way. If we live too far away, we will have to spend extra ti and pay for the public carriage to borrow the tools.
As he spoke, he left the room and walked to the side.
So it isn't a coincidence that we t a watch craftsman. Many of the residents here are of this profession... Klein was suddenly enlightened.
Old Kohler looked around the room and enviously said, "Before I fell ill, I lived in such a place as well. My wife would help others sew clothes at ho. And my two children, my two children..."
Mike sighed and lowered his voice.
"I thought watch craftsn were rich."
" too..." Klein covered his mouth.
...
After a cordial exchange with several of the apartnt's residents, Klein and the others once again embarked on their adventure.
They had walked about a hundred ters when they heard people quarreling along the street.
The two won were using all sorts of obscenities against each other, allowing Klein to learn many words he had never heard before.
The reason for their argunt was that the one on the left accused the woman on the right for making the apartnt they lived in dirty and noisy. The woman on the right was scolding the woman on the left, thinking that it had nothing to do with her. After all, no one asked her to recruit guests at night and sleep during the day.
"Is that a laundry maid?" Mike asked, frowning slightly.
"Yes, I know her. She's a widow, helping people wash their clothes with her two daughters," Old Kohler answered certainly.
Mike thought for a few seconds and said, "Take to their place."
Old Kohler nodded and led the two of them around the argunt before they entered the dilapidated apartnt building that was obviously inferior to the one they had just seen.
As soon as he arrived outside the laundry maid's room, Klein imdiately felt the dampness.
In the room hung dresses that were not dried yet. A seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl was squatting in front of a large basin, scrubbing clothes that were covered in bubbles. A girl, that was younger than her, was holding a hot iron wrapped in wet linen cloth. She was carefully ironing the clothes that were done washing and drying. Her careful actions implied that she had been scalded by the steam several tis.
This was both their workplace and the place where they slept at night. Wet moisture perated the room and seeped into their bodies.
In addition, the stench of all kinds of slls was very distinct.
"Doesn't it feel terrible?" Mike pinched his nose.
Klein replied in a muffled voice, "I've got a cold."
There was no humor in his words.
Mike released his fingers, walked into the room, and said to the two surprised girls, "I'm a reporter. I would like to interview a laundry maid."
The girl who was scrubbing the clothes shook her head numbly and said, "We have a lot of things to do and cannot afford to waste ti."
Mike's request for an interview was rejected.
He ca out with a heavy expression and silently walked back across the street.
After taking a look, he pursed his lips and said, "Let's continue."
...
City of Silver. After a thorough examination of Derrick Berg, who had experienced hallucinations both visually and auditory, he was brought to the bottom of the spire.
This place took in residents who showed signs of losing control, and various thods were used to save them.
Walking in the gloomy and creepy corridor, he suddenly felt a strange chill.
"Help!"
A sharp shrill voice suddenly sounded from a sealed room.
"Help..."
The voice ca to a sudden halt, and then there was silence.
-x-X-x-
This... In the eerie silence, the first thought Derrick Berg had when he ca back to his senses was to rescue that person.
However, the two guards that held him in the middle didn't show any reaction to it, as if everything that had just happened was just his imagination.
"Soone is calling out for help," the young Derrick inford the two Dawn Paladins.
On his left, a tall knight clad in silver armor calmly replied, "Don't be fooled.
"That's just the normal behavior of those Beyonders who are on the verge of losing control."
Is that so? Maybe he cried out for help because he just isn't willing to give up and lose control and beco a monster... Derrick thought sorrowfully.
Following the change in his mood, the illusory, buzzing sound in his ears beca more distinct.
After silently taking a few steps forward, the Dawn Paladin from before pointed to a door on the left and said, "You will be staying here for the ti being. We will bring you your food and dicine on ti."
As he spoke, he took out an iron-black bottle.
This bottle was constructed from the remnants of the straw-like objects left over from the City of Silver's staple food, Black Faced Grass. Upon encountering a liquid, it would produce a thin film, thereby achieving a waterproof and sealing effect.
Derrick took the bottle and gulped it down, feeling a cool sensation slide down his esophagus and into his stomach.
His entire being rapidly beca quiet. The swaying scenes before his eyes stabilized, and the auditory hallucinations in his ears gradually weakened.
Creak!
At the sound of the iron door closing and locking, Derrick entered his own room.
The first thing he saw was a candle flickering with a faint yellow light, and then he made out a low bed, a chair, and a square table.
Other than that, there was nothing else. However, the walls, including the door, were all engraved with complicated and mysterious symbols and labels. They seed to form a complete seal.
Derrick's emotions were also suppressed by the dicine. He sat down on the bed without the slightest hint of curiosity before lying down.
After an unknown period of ti, he suddenly heard the sound of soone banging on his door. However, this didn't co from outside his room, but from his neighboring cell.
Derrick sat up and listened. He heard a sharp, high-pitched wail from the knocking.
His hair stood on end as he abruptly stood up, taking an extrely defensive stance.
At this mont, thumping sounds spread to the tal walls that were separated by two rooms, slowly smashing a protrusion.
Derrick was about to pray for holy light when the scene before his eyes suddenly lit up. It seed as if the entire space around him had been moved to the outside world, just in ti for the lightning to streak past.
The sound of the wall being smashed beside him had vanished, and the bottom of the spire regained its silence.
It wasn't an absolute silence. Rather, the sound of light footsteps echoed for a long distance. It only turned silent after the echoes continued on for a long ti.
Derrick was wondering what had happened to the Beyonder in the neighboring cell when soone knocked on the tal wall on the other side.
Tak! Tak! Tak!
It was as if soone had bent their finger and was tapping lightly.
"Who is it?" Derrick asked, raising his voice in slight alarm.
The knocking imdiately stopped, and after a few seconds, a deep yet rather old voice was faintly transmitted.
"So it turns out to be a young fellow."
"You are?" Seeing that the other person could communicate rationally, Derrick leaned against the wall and pressed his ear against the cold tal.
The elderly voice chuckled and said, "The person next to you almost lost control several tis. He ultimately couldn't be saved today."
He completely lost control? Derrick asked through the tal wall, "So he's beco a monster now?"
"No, not a monster, but a corpse. He was finished off by the item sealed in here." The elderly voice sighed. "I've been here for forty-two years. Yes, those guards told that they've seen too many similar incidents."
Derrick was surprised and returned with a question, "You've been here for forty-two years?"
Normally speaking, losing control could be divided into three stages. The first stage was warning signs, such as auditory and visual hallucinations. In the second stage, the person's body and mind were already out of control, and from ti to ti, they would display either terrifying or strange states. As for the third stage, it was a complete breakdown, transforming the Rampager into a terrifying monster.
The ti it took from the second stage to the third stage was rather quick. Perhaps just after discovering the symptoms, one would witness a seemingly ordinary Beyonder turn into a monster which could be found deep in the darkness.
In other words, after a second-stage Beyonder was sent to the bottom of the spire, they would either be treated with dicine, rituals, and other thods, slowly stabilizing themselves and allowing them to leave within eighteen months. Otherwise, they would quickly lose control and be purged. It was impossible for anyone to be locked up for forty-two years.
As a first-stage Beyonder, they would only take between a few days to less than twenty days to eliminate all the symptoms and leave, fully treated.
The elderly voice imdiately chuckled and said, "That's right, I also didn't expect that I would stay here for forty-two years.
"I don't have any signs of losing control, but they believe I'm rather dangerous and can turn into a monster at any ti."
Derrick frowned slightly and asked curiously, "What happened forty-two years ago?"
At that ti, neither of his parents had been born yet.
The elderly voice was silent for a mont before saying, "I was once the captain of an exploration team. @@@@
"We found a destroyed city about half a month away from the City of Silver. Heh, this was calculated based on our speed.
"That city was similar to our City of Silver. It clearly has traces of it being ruled by giants, and it also believed in the Lord that created everything, the omnipotent and omniscient God.
"Unfortunately, they were destroyed; destroyed countless years ago."
Derrick wasn't a stranger to such matters. He imdiately guessed, "Because you encountered so strange incidents there, you were determined to be at risk of losing control?"
"More or less." The elderly voice chuckled. "After we explored the core area, we discovered that the city was attempting to change faiths. They created deities that they imagined would save them. However, it was useless; even the statues of those deities were destroyed and spilled all across the land."
At this point, his tone suddenly beca heavy.
"However, we t a person there.
"This is the first ti in the past 2000 years that our City of Silver had t soone who didn't belong to our city!
"Outside City of Silver, in the depths of the endless darkness, there really was soone still alive!"
Derrick subconsciously asked, "You brought him back to the City of Silver?"
The elderly voice said after two seconds, "Don't you feel shocked?
"The reason why our City of Silver works so hard to explore the surroundings is to find humans like us. We finally found them 42 years ago!"
This is indeed rather shocking news, but I often see Miss Justice, Mr. Hanged Man, and the others. I often hear of the Loen Kingdom and the seven orthodox gods. Isn't it very obvious that there are people outside the City of Silver, with cities and countries? Derrick scratched his head, and without much experience, he pretended to be shocked.
"I-I didn't notice this point.
"This is truly unbelievable. Other than the residents of the City of Silver, there are actually other people!"
"..." The elderly voice remained silent for a while before saying, "Has the City of Silver's education beco so terrible?"
Without waiting for Derrick to speak, he sighed and said to himself, "We very warily invited that person to the City of Silver as a guest. After so consideration, he agreed.
"We monitored and escorted him along the way back, but when we had almost arrived at the City of Silver, he suddenly disappeared...
"We searched everywhere, but we couldn't find him. After we returned to the City of Silver, my team mbers went crazy, one by one. They lost control. All of them! Not a single one was spared!
"The six-mber council suspected that we were contaminated by sothing and that the person was not a human at all, but an evil spirit, a monster. So, they locked up here, and every so often, they would co over to confirm my condition, but they would never tell what the problem is, nor would they let out."
Derrick exhaled heavily and asked, "Do you rember what that man looked like?"
"... He looked very ordinary, and nothing about him stood out. He was dressed just like us, and except for rembering that he was a man, I can't rember what he looked like... However, the elders should be able to use Beyonder ans to directly see him from my vague, forgotten mories," the elderly voice recalled for a nearly a minute and said with a bit of pain.
Derrick pressed him, casually, "Did he say what his na was? Did he tell you about his origins?"
The elderly voice acknowledged tersely.
"He told us that his na was..."
He paused for a mont before saying, "Amon."
...
Sunday morning, in the factory district.
In the past two days, Klein and Mike "visited" many places in East Borough under old Kohler's guidance.
As a result, Mike witnessed five or six people huddled together in a single room, and that wasn't the worst case he saw.
In the poorest areas of East Borough, an ordinary bedroom could accommodate ten people. The precise division of the right to use the floor and the ti of use—day or night—shocked the reporter.
Moreover, poverty didn't discriminate between n and won. In those places, people of different genders squeezed in tight spaces without being able to abide by societal norms. Certain incidents which deserved ti in court happened all the ti. Whether it was n or won, all of them were always facing the threat of violence.
"... Squalid, crowded, slly—that's the most objective impression. I suspect that every one of them has a serious problem of having parasites... Because the houses were built a long ti ago in the most rundown districts, they aren't connected to the sewers. Feces, urine, vomit and other things can be found everywhere. Every house here only has one public bathroom, or worse, every street only has one public toilet...
"They're extrely busy every day, but they can only barely fill their stomachs without any savings. As long as they're unemployed for a few days, they'll fall into an irredeemable abyss... I don't think they would even be afraid of death if they were given even a little hope... " Mike wrote in his investigation manuscript.
In addition, the reporter was impressed by the tramps who wandered the streets in the middle of the night, the girls who stood numbly by the street or in the bars, as well as the drinkers who completely let loose with their drinking. They didn't hold back on using violence and didn't consider the future. All of this left a deep impression on this reporter.
He grew more and more silent.
-x-X-x-
Cough!
Mike Joseph took out his handkerchief, covered his mouth, and coughed several tis.
The smog in the factory district was thicker than anywhere else. The air was gray with a yellowish tint as though it was floating dust. Occasionally a pungent, suffocating odor that even Mr. Reporter, who was long used to the Backlund air, could not bear.
He turned to Klein who was also coughing softly.
"I've always been a huge supporter of the governnt's establishnt of the National Atmospheric Pollution Council and the alkaline industry inspector, but only today did I learn that the problem has beco so serious."
"If we don't take effective asures, it may beco a tragedy in the future." Klein tried hard to clear his blocked nose.
Perhaps the whole of Backlund would be shrouded in smog that results in one's vision not exceeding five ters, and it's possible that an evil god would descend or be born in such a backdrop... he added silently.
Old Kohler didn't quite understand the conversation. He cleared his throat that was filled with thick phlegm and led the reporter and the detective around the watchman and into a lead factory.
Most of the workers were won. They were working busily without any protection, and the factory floor was filled with dust.
Looking at the "tiny particles" floating in the air, Klein felt like he was looking at toxic gas. The young ladies without masks were like lambs waiting to be slaughtered.
For a mont, he felt as though he was back in Tingen, back to the ti when he had helped Sir Deweyville deal with the grievance haunting him.
He seed to have already witnessed the future of each and every female worker—so of them with throbbing heads, so with blurred vision, so turning hysterical, so with gums with a blue line, and finally, they either went blind or fell dead.
It's like a large-scale, bloody sacrificial ritual. The only difference is that the target is that flashing symbol of money... If the Aurora Order, Rose School of Thought, and other evil sects could make good use of similar situations, just like what Lanevus did, there would be a huge problem... Klein covered his mouth and nose as he quietly watched.
Mike Joseph muttered in surprise and anger, "How can this be?
"How can they be like this?
"A while ago, all sorts of newspapers and magazines were focused on the issue of lead poisoning. Why aren't they using any precautionary asures at all?
"They can't even bear to use a mask?
"These factory owners are murderers!"
He truly is a reporter with a sense of righteousness. Even though he isn't young, he's rather stingy, and his acting is pretty outstanding, he still retains his original pure motives... But how is he so aware of lead poisoning? Right, I forgot. I had gotten Sir Deweyville to advertise the dangers of lead poisoning on the newspapers and magazines... It seems like he did it well, but for so people, what does it matter if one or two of the lower class commoners die? There are plenty of people waiting for jobs! Klein thought with a heavy heart.
As a senior journalist, Mike didn't lose his reason. He quietly observed and asked a few workers who had changed shifts, then he left the lead factory.
Subsequently, they entered one factory after another, but lost their mood to discuss anything when they saw the squalor of the place and the intensive labor involved.
It was almost noon when Klein suddenly discovered that there were a lot of people gathered outside a factory. They were mostly won, and they were excitedly shouting sothing and were trying to rush in.
"What happened?" Mike asked Old Kohler, puzzled.
Old Kohler was also puzzled.
"I'll go over and ask."
He jogged to the outside of the factory and blended into the crowd. It took him several minutes to get back to Klein and Mike.
"They're going to smash those new machines!" Old Kohler took a breath and got to the point.
"Why?" Mike hadn't been in charge of similar news before, and so he didn't know much about the situation. As for Klein, he had an inkling of the reason.
Old Kohler pointed to the factory and said, "This is a textile factory. They wish to use the latest textile machines, so the number of people in charge of controlling the machines needed will decrease. It seems... it seems like they're going to fire a third of the workers!
"The female workers want to smash the machines and get their jobs back, or else they'll probably not survive. Perhaps, the only choice is for them to beco street girls."
Mike opened his mouth. From the shape of his mouth, he looked like he was going to say "fools," but he didn't say anything in the end. He just looked in silence and didn't even move closer.
"Let's go back. I've pretty much finished my investigative interviews." After a long ti, Mike sighed.
All three of them turned around and began to walk out of the factory district. No one spoke as they walked.
As they were about to part, Mike glanced at Klein and spoke in a low voice.
"Do you think those won can still find anything else to do if the lead factories who do not provide protection are shut down, or if their bosses are sent to court?"
Klein gave it so serious thought and said, "If it's just a few factories, there won't be much of a problem, but so female workers might suffer from the hunger and cold while looking for other jobs, and they would gradually lose their strength because they don't have any savings.
"It would be a disaster if too many factories are shut down in a short period of ti, not to ntion the people who lose their jobs after the new textile machines are used."
The Backlund factory district alone might have thousands or even tens of thousands of unemployed workers, who have no food or clothing, roaming the streets like zombies. They might lower the conditions of their pay in order to snatch the jobs of others... Who knows how many people in East Borough will lead an even more difficult life or die as a result. It would be a hell-like scene, and even if this world doesn't have Beyonder powers, it would still bring about a huge disaster. And now, the various evil gods are lurking in the darkness, waiting... Klein swallowed all the words in his mind.
Mike fell silent again, and after paying ten pounds and six soli, he left the smoke-emitting factory district in a carriage.
Klein looked at the carriage ride into the distance but didn't say anything.
Back when he was a Nighthawk, he had known and co into contact with the lives of the poor, but the impression left on him wasn't as deep this ti.
A multidinsional observation revealed a human abyss in front of his eyes.
East Borough is truly filled with hidden dangers and tinder-like threats. If one isn't careful, it can be ignited by a cult... Klein pondered for a few seconds and said, "Kohler, I'd like to ask you to help keep an eye on the situation in East Borough. Oh, only when you're not bogged down by work.
"I'll pay you, giving you the money to build a relationship with the other workers. Every week, we will set a ti to et at the coffee shop from before."
Old Kohler's eyes lit up.
"No problem!"
He made no ntion of the price, and he fully trusted the good detective.
Klein weighed his options and said, "Every ti we et, I'll give you 15 soli as funds and compensation. If you provide with information that I'm satisfied with, there will also be an additional 5 soli as paynt."
"A pound?" Old Kohler blurted out in shock.
In his warst and happiest days, he was paid only twenty-one soli a week, or one pound one soli.
"Yes." Klein nodded. "You have to pay attention to your words and actions. Don't be in a hurry to gather information. Maintain a state of speaking less and listening more. Otherwise, you'll be in danger."
Informant fees such as these can theoretically be reimbursed, but I'm now a self-sponsored fifty-pence party 1. Klein sighed as he gave a self-deprecating laugh.
...
Empress Borough, in Miss Audrey's study within Count Hall's luxurious villa.
The blonde was listening to Miss Escalante, her psychology teacher, as she occasionally stroked Susie, the big dog who was sitting beside her.
With dark hair that went all the way down to her waist, Escalante Oseleka noticed that the dog also seed to be listening intently. She couldn't help but smile and pause for two seconds.
Following that, she continued with her introduction.
"There are currently no completely orthodox theories in the field of psychology. There are several schools of thought, such as Psychoanalysis, Personality Analysis, and Behavioral Psychology.
"Of course, research on the mind is not only perford by psychologists and psychiatrists. Many professionals in the field of mysticism are also doing similar work. Among them, the most famous one is, heh—sorry, I've deviated from the curriculum. Let's return to the topic just now and talk about Psychoanalysis."
Audrey could clearly notice Escalante's intention to guide the topic; therefore, she feigned ignorance and asked curiously, "Teacher, I'd like to know more about the research situation for the mind in the field of mysticism.
"As you know, I'm very interested in that."
Escalante pursed her lips, frowned, and said in embarrassnt, "But there are vows of secrecy. I an, these theories and research are part of the secrets of the mysticism circles. They're privy to those on the inside."
"Is that so... Th-then can I join?" Audrey asked expectantly. "They aren't involved in anything evil, right?"
"Ha, how is that possible? It's just a seminar organized by enthusiasts." Escalante diverted the topic after ntioning it. "Let's talk about this later. Let's continue with the lesson first."
I've got to know where to draw the line. I'll do it one step at a ti. If this is the general trait of the mbers of the Psychology Alchemists, then I don't have to worry too much about it being filled with lunatics and perverts like Mr. A... Audrey deliberately put on an expression of reluctance when skipping the subject, but she still politely listened to the theoretical foundations of Psychoanalysis.
When the class was over, and after sending Escalante off, she returned to the study, carefully closed the heavy wooden door, and said to the huge golden retriever, "Susie, what do you think of her?"
"She's not sincere!" Susie answered flatly.
Then, she tilted her head and said, "However, what she said is very interesting. I think it's even more interesting than at and biscuits!"
Susie, do you wish to be a psychiatrist in the future? Specializing in the treatnt of ntal illness in animals? For example, that horse which is suspected to suffer from depression at the Glaints... Audrey suddenly fell into deep thought, wondering if she should prepare a special white coat and gold-rimd glasses for Susie to look a little more professional.
-x-X-x-
When he got back to Minsk Street from the factory district, Klein had a simple lunch and took a nap. He didn't wake up until the evening when the sky had darkened.
But even so, he still felt exhausted, exhaustion that stemd from the depths of his heart.
After quite so ti of being lost in thought, Klein went down to the first floor and lit the gas lamp. He prepared to sit on the sofa and read the day's newspapers, but when he glanced around, he saw an invitation letter on the coffee table.
He was stunned for a mont before realizing that it was an invitation letter which Mrs. Stelyn Samr had sent her maidservant to deliver a few days ago.
I almost forgot about this... The disguised matchmaking banquet... Klein put down the invitation letter and walked to the bathroom on the first floor. He used cold water to wash his face, sprucing himself up to look much more energetic.
Compared to when he first arrived at Backlund, there was a much thicker black stubble around his lips and under his chin. Although it didn't completely eliminate his scholarly bearing, it made him look more mature and rugged.
Soone who doesn't really know well wouldn't be able to recognize in person... Klein exhaled silently, wiped his face clean, and put his gold-rimd glasses on the bridge of his nose.
He took a short break, changed into a shirt with a starched collar and a black tailcoat, and then, quite formally, he put on his silk half top hat and picked up his cane stick and invitation letter before leaving the house for the unit beside his.
Amidst the tinkling of the doorbell, he saw Julianne, the maidservant, open the door, and Stelyn with her blonde hair coiled up high, and her ears adorned with silver earrings.
Klein took off his hat, bowed, and praised politely, "Mrs. Samr, you are very beautiful today."
Although his words were extrely perfunctory, it was true that she was much more beautiful than usual. It appeared that her ability to doll herself up ticulously had experienced a significant breakthrough.
It seems like the adultery case made her besties with Ma'am Mary. Besides, Mary is now a tycoon with a wealth of tens of thousands of pounds, and she has been admitted into the National Atmospheric Pollution Council, allowing her to acquaint herself with many people in power. She must have had sufficient experience in the areas of makeup, clothing, accessories, and so on... Klein nodded in understanding.
The corners of Stelyn's mouth couldn't help but curl up.
"These are my new earrings that cost eight soli."
Lady, you haven't changed in the slightest... Klein smiled and handed his hat, cane, and coat to the maidservant.
The fireplace and the pipes in the room brought the warmth of early sumr. Many won and young ladies were not dressed that conservatively. So of their fair arms were exposed, while others bared their creamy chests.
"Luke is talking business with so friends. Let apologize on his behalf." Stelyn played her role as the female host to its fullest. "Have your al first. I'll introduce you to a few well-educated ladies later."
Actually, there's no need for that. Just let eat in peace...
Klein smiled.
"I can already sll the fragrance of the food."
Since there were quite a lot of guests, with over twenty of them, the dinner was in the form of a buffet. Klein took a plate and walked around, and he found that the food was a lot more varied than before.
Cold trout, chicken pie, mutton stew with peas, salted breast, curry, roast beef, turkey, beef tongue pastry, ham, salad, and cream cake...
The alcohol provided was still champagne and red wine.
This suited a carnivore's palate very well. Klein, with his large plate, didn't make conversation with anyone. He hid in a corner and slowly savored the food. @@@@
It's not as good as the chefs at the Quelaag Club... From ti to ti, he would inwardly make comnts on the food.
He was about to go for second helpings when he was finally discovered by Stelyn Samr.
At the sa ti, he saw an acquaintance beside the lady. He was none other than Lawyer Jurgen with his serious expression.
Right, Jurgen is also a bachelor... Klein smiled and walked over, taking the initiative to ask, "How is Mrs. Doris's recovery?"
Jurgen uncomfortably tugged at his bow tie.
"She'll be discharged next week."
"That's great," Klein sincerely said with mixed emotions.
At that mont, Stelyn had already brought a few young ladies over and introduced them.
"This is Mr. Jurgen Cooper, a senior solicitor, who earns at least three pounds a week. He often gets a commission from the cases he handles, and he definitely earns more than two hundred pounds a year. Furthermore, he is young and capable. He will most likely beco a great lawyer in the future.
"This is Mr. Sherlock Moriarty, a well-known detective. His inco is unstable, but he is paid handsoly for every mission he receives, for example ten or fifty pounds."
Lady, isn't this too direct... Klein couldn't help but silently lampoon.
Jurgen, who was standing beside him, evidently frowned.
Without feeling that she had made a faux pas, Stelyn continued the introductions.
"Miss Sarah Taylor. Her parents are teachers at a grammar school...
"Miss Angelina Watson. Her father is a civil servant at the Backlund Police Departnt..."
...
Klein smiled numbly and greeted each lady.
After Stelyn was done, Jurgen said in a deep voice, "Mrs. Samr, it's impolite to ntion the inco of others in front of others."
Stelyn wasn't mad; instead, she replied very seriously, "No, it's very important.
"If you end up liking each other and decide to start a family, then inco is essential.
"Think about it, there must be at, vegetables, fruits, milk, white bread, butter, cream, and other foods every day. It costs at least a pound and five soli a week on food alone, not to ntion the alcohol. In addition, to rent a better house is nearly a pound a week. Yes, there's also the need to purchase water, gas, charcoal, soap, and the like. One still needs to consider transportation expenses. This adds up to about ten soli.
"That is just the most fundantal expenses. Are you not bringing your wife to a musical concert or to go watch a play?
"Don't you need to get new clothes every year? Ladies, I believe that a family must spend at least 30 pounds a year on it in order to be considered to be living a decent life.
"In addition, there is the salary of the maid, the cost of education for any children, the ergency money that's needed to be set aside for dical treatnt, as well as the expenditure of so necessary decorations.
"Only with an inco of more than 200 pounds a year can those needs be t. Only then can a happy family be achieved.
"Thus, in order to not delay everyone's ti or cause any misunderstandings, I believe it is necessary to include this in the introduction."
As a lawyer, Jurgen was montarily unable to provide a rejoinder. Fortunately, he always had a serious and stern expression on his face.
How big-hearted... But the basic etiquette is to tell the two parties this information in private, and of course, I know exactly why you're making the introductions straight to their face... Klein smiled.
"Yes, inco is very important.
"Only with an inco of more than 400 pounds a year can one host a dinner at this level. Only with that much can one afford to have his wife be dressed in beautiful dresses and exquisite earrings."
Stelyn raised her chin slightly as she tried her best to suppress her smile and said, "430 pounds. I an that there must be so savings each year, to prevent any accidents or to have spare cash to invest into stocks or bonds."
That was her husband's approximate annual inco.
After finding a common topic for the two groups of strangers, she left and greeted the other guests. Klein could also clearly sense that Sarah, Angelina, and the other ladies were more interested in Lawyer Jurgen. After all, he was a good-looking man, and his job and inco were very stable.
As for a private detective who might be locked up in the police station at any ti, they were not the first choice for middle-class won. Besides, Klein now looked rugged with his beard. It wasn't a surprise that the girls would remain a little apprehensive towards him.
After a short casual chat with them, he found an excuse to leave before hiding in a corner and eating while he enjoyed watching Jurgen's awkward and helpless performance.
At this mont, it was a wonder where his eloquence as a lawyer had gone to.
A few minutes later, the two children of the Samrs ran past Klein while playing.
They noticed the gentleman in the corner, stopped, and, with widened eyes, asked curiously, "Mr. Moriarty, we heard that you're a detective?"
"Yes." Klein smiled in response.
The little girl said innocently, "Can you tell us about the cases you've cracked?"
Her twin brother nodded imdiately.
The cases I cracked? If it doesn't involve wraiths, puppets, or Devil dogs, then it's about finding cats or catching an adulterer. There's really nothing suitable for children... Klein thought for a few seconds, then chuckled.
"Alright, this is a story about treasure.
"An officer who had just returned from East Balam was suddenly murdered..."
He had mostly forgotten the detective novels he had read in his previous life, so he could only make them up based on a vague impression. The two children didn't care about the irrationality of the plot and listened very seriously, even learning to ask "what happened next."
Without realizing it, Klein was a lot more relaxed.
When the banquet was almost over, and he was about to leave, he saw that Stelyn's face was filled with joy.
"What is the cause for celebration?" Klein casually asked.
Stelyn raised her head slightly and replied with a reserved smile, "Mary has received a luncheon invitation from the chief secretary of the National Atmospheric Pollution Council, Mr. Hibbert Hall, on Monday.
"This gentleman is the eldest son of Count Hall, a true nobleman. He has invited all the mbers of the council and has allowed them to bring two or three friends with them."
Stelyn paused.
"Luke and I were just invited by Mary."
...
Monday afternoon.
Dressed to the nines, Stelyn Samr, who was accompanied by her husband Luke Samr, followed Ma'am Mary to Empress Borough where they saw a large building.
Marble statues, pools, fountains, gardens, and lawns reflected themselves in her eyes, making her feel nervous even before she entered the villa.
"Luke, does my necklace not match my dress?" she asked her husband as she tilted her head.
Luke shook his head and laughed.
"Darling, you're too nervous.
"You don't have to worry about that. The nobles only live in a place that's slightly bigger than ours and eat a little better. We aren't lacking in any way."
Stelyn nodded when she heard that, as though she had found her confidence.
Entering the villa, they saw the gorgeous crystal chandelier, the hall which could accommodate many dancers, and the plates of delicious food.
Foie gras, pan-fried Dragon-Bone Fish, baked lobster... Aurmir grape wine, misty champagne... It's exactly the sa as the magazine's description. Stelyn looked at the food with curiosity, thinking that she could have such a al on a holiday or during new year's if they scrimped a little.
Except for the Aurmir wine and the misty champagne... she finally added in her mind.
At this mont, her gaze suddenly straightened as she saw a young girl wearing a beige palace dress walking over.
The girl had blonde hair and green eyes, and she was abnormally beautiful. She wore a pair of white silk gloves with a pair of small beautiful erald earrings. She exuded pureness and elegance.
She's just like an angel... Even though she had always been proud of her appearance, Stelyn couldn't help but exclaim in admiration, and she felt an inexplicable sense of inferiority at that mont.
"Hello," she clumsily greeted with the etiquette she had just learned.
"Hello," the girl returned the greeting gracefully.
After they had passed each other, Stelyn accompanied her husband and Mary to et the distinguished guests and the noble, Mr. Hibbert Hall.
After a while, she walked to the balcony by herself, intending to ease her mood. However, she unexpectedly saw the angelic girl from before.
She was looking out over the landscape, a large golden retriever obediently sat beside her rose ribbon-rimd shoes.
"It's so cute." Stelyn made an attempt to make conversation.
The young girl replied with a faint smile, "Let thank you on Susie's behalf for your praise."
As she looked at the duo, Stelyn suddenly felt that she should own a similar pet for herself.
This was the only way to showcase the Samrs' dignity! She asked in a asured tone, "I heard that the nobles rear a lot of hunting hounds. Is this one of them?"
"Yes." The girl whose erald-green eyes looked more enchanting than her earrings' gems lightly nodded.
"May I know how much money is needed to buy one?" Stelyn asked with a smile.
The pure and elegant girl looked down at the huge golden retriever and, without minding the question, answered with a slight smile, "450 pounds."
-x-X-x-
On a luxurious carriage on their way leaving Count Hall's villa.
Luke was chatting with Ma'am Mary about the distinguished guests, such as the chairman of the National Atmospheric Pollution Council and chief of the National Weather Service, Sir Ders Shaw; or the council mber of the National Atmospheric Pollution Council and president of the Royal teorological Society; House of Commons mber of Parliant, Mr. Cave; or Midseashire dical Health's director-in-charge and renowned doctor, Mr. Hawkesley.
They were all influential figures in the governnt, and the royal family or parliant. And the council's final report would be the most important basis for the planned Anti-Pollution Act and Smoke Emission Act.
The Coim Company, which specialized in anthracite and charcoal, was trying to promote and expedite the developnt, disrupting older but larger competitors from handling the changes.
"They will certainly not be stingy with their money and will certainly lobby the heavyweight mbers of Parliant to interfere with our investigation. We must have a clear solution, just like what Mr. Hibbert Hall said. We need to take hold of public opinion and let the newspapers and magazines repeat the horrors of smoke pollution..." Luke was a senior manager at Coim, a key assistant to Coim's major shareholder and person in control, Mary, and he himself was quite capable.
As they chatted, Luke suddenly noticed that his wife was sitting next to him without saying a word, as if she had lost her soul.
"Stelyn, what happened?" Luke asked with concern.
Stelyn jolted back to her senses, forced a smile, and said, "Nothing, I'm just a little tired."
"That's right. You must be extrely tense seeing so many important figures. Now, you can finally relax. Exhaustion is a very normal thing. Actually, it's the sa for ." Luke smiled.
Stelyn didn't respond; instead, she looked out the window towards the park with a lake.
Her ears were still ringing with the casual words of the young noble girl from before.
"450 pounds.
"A trained hound is priced between 450 and 700 pounds."
...
City of Silver, at the bottom of the spire.
Derrick Berg was locked in a small room, eating food and taking his dicine regularly. As a result, his ntal state rapidly improved as his visual and auditory hallucinations were no longer present.
I'll be able to leave in a day or two... It's really hard to stay locked up in such an environnt for long periods of ti... The forr captain of the exploration team in the next cell has been locked up for 42 years, yet he's still very lucid and rational. If it were , I definitely would've gone crazy... However, the explorations and strange monsters that he spoke of are rather attractive and even terrifying... Derrick sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the candle that had burned to the end.
Before the Keepers delivered his next round of food and dicine, he would be placed in true darkness.
At that mont, he saw a gray fog spread out as the deep voice of The Fool sounded.
"Prepare for the gathering."
Such a change was fleeting. Derrick focused his attention and subconsciously counted his heartbeats.
However, he soon realized that this wasn't necessary because his current state was one of solitude, and he didn't need to avoid others.
Derrick, who was no longer counting his heartbeats, quickly thought of a question.
Would Mr. Fool's subsequent actions of pulling above the gray fog be discovered and detected when I'm within the confines of the seal of the mystical object at the bottom of the spire?
These were two mystical items that had prevented the complete destruction of the City of Silver in the face of several calamities!
In his nervousness and uneasiness, Derrick, who had been unable to co to a decision, saw endless dark red lights gushing out of the void and engulf him.
The small, enclosed room turned completely silent. Even the sound of his breathing had beco extrely weak.
Suddenly, the tal wall between Derrick and the forr exploration team's captain produced a tapping sound.
This was the signal the two of them used if they wished to talk to each other.
Tak!
The other person bent his finger and knocked again.
After that, what should've been a third tap, that followed in succession, didn't happen.
After a long while, the tapping sound hesitantly rang out again. Following that, both rooms fell into silence, and not a single sound could be heard.
...
After finishing her luncheon, Audrey practiced on the piano before returning to her bedroom while keeping track of the ti.
As she passed her father's study, she saw that the door was ajar, and a thick stack of papers lay on the table.
Those weren't there before... Curious, Audrey slowed down and winked at Susie.
As a Spectator, Susie often needed only a small hint to understand what her mistress wanted her to do. Of course, she would also occasionally pretend that she didn't understand, only wishing to lie still.
Susie, who had received the signal, trotted silently into the study, then stretched out her front paws, placed them on the edge of the table, and stood upright.
She quickly glanced at the front page of the stack of docunts, returned to Audrey's side, and said in a low voice, "Survey of living conditions at all levels in East Borough, the dock area, and the factory district.
"Audrey, what do those words an?"
Survey of living conditions at all levels in East Borough, the dock area, and the factory district? Why did Dad suddenly commission this survey? I don't rember ever ntioning anything about this to him... Audrey was confused and didn't bother to answer Susie's question.
She looked around, and seeing that the servants were at their stations and not paying particular attention to her, she raised her head slightly and calmly turned to enter Count Hall's study.
At the desk, Audrey looked down at the report and saw that the title was exactly as Susie had described it.
Hmm, it's docunt typed by a typewriter. The investigator is a reporter nad Mike Joseph. There's the Goddess's Sacred Emblem at the bottom... Was this commissioned by the Church of the Goddess? But why is Father given a copy? Oh, Father is a believer of the Goddess, and the Church wants him to provide so support on this matter? That's a good thing... Audrey made a preliminary judgnt.
She had originally thought of hiring others to do a similar investigation, but she felt that this was not in accordance with her intention of guiding others behind the scenes. It was very easy to be noticed and no longer be ignored by the other nobles; therefore, she had been hesitant.
Audrey reached for the file and flipped through it. She found that Mike Joseph wasn't the only one reporting on East Borough, the dock area, and the factory district. There were also quite a few people who had made their own field investigations from different angles.
So of them even ntioned the proliferation of cults, and how so Beyonders were colluding with the gangs.
Phew... Audrey looked at the clock in the study and saw that it was almost three. She quickly gave up on reading the report carefully and returned the docunt to its original state.
Before she left, she picked up a book and used it as a disguise for her purpose of entry.
...
At three o'clock sharp. While the chiming of the hanging clock was still reverberating through the air, Audrey had already appeared inside the majestic palace via the dark red, illusory light and found herself beside the ancient long table.
She smiled, stood up, and bowed in the direction of the seat of honor.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool~"
Having received a light nod in response, she then respectively greeted The Hanged Man, The World, and company. She keenly noticed that The Sun seed to be a little uneasy.
"What are you worried about?" Audrey asked.
This spared Klein's need to speak, having also noticed that Little Sun didn't seem right.
Entering this mysterious space ahead of ti, he tidied the items on the table, tossing them into a corner along with Azik's copper whistle, the Biological Poison Bottle, Numinous Episcopate's copper whistle, and other things. He had then covered them with a thick fog.
Presently, there was only the Dark Emperor card on the table before him.
This was an item that matched the identity of The Fool!
Derrick didn't hide anything and imdiately recounted his successful "malingering" and how he was sent to the bottom of the spire to be isolated for treatnt. Finally, he asked, "Honorable Mr. Fool, will that mystical item detect my participation in the Tarot Club?"
How would I know... I don't even know what it is... However, there are currently no strange or powerful forces attempting to invade... Hmm, even the Eternal Blazing Sun and the True Creator couldn't find this place... Klein tapped his finger on the edge of the long bronze table and replied in a "relaxed" manner, "Generally speaking, it wouldn't make any discoveries.
"But so mystical items possess special effects."
Seeing that Mr. Fool had given an affirmative answer, Derrick was imdiately relieved. He tersely gave acknowledgnt and said, "I'm not sure of its special effects either.
"It's one of the City of Silver's top secrets."
At this point, he suddenly thought of what the forr captain of the exploration team had told him. He blurted out a question, "Have any of you heard of a person nad Amon?"
Amon? After a mont's thought, Klein rembered the source of the familiarity.
But he didn't answer in a hurry. Instead, he looked at The Hanged Man, knowing full well that this middle-ranking mber of the Church of the Lord of Storms also knew "Amon," and perhaps he knew even more than he did. Similarly, Audrey also looked at The Hanged Man. She had also heard the na from him the last ti. @@@@
Fors listened with a blank face, feeling that the things discussed here were always outside the scope of her knowledge.
Alger frowned and asked in confusion, "You ran into a man who called himself Amon while you were exploring the surrounding areas of the City of Silver?
"Or perhaps, you discovered related records?"
Derrick nodded seriously and said, "Yes, forty-two years ago, an exploratory team encountered a man claiming to be Amon in the depths of the darkness. After they returned to the City of Silver, they lost control one after another. Only one of them was left, and he was imprisoned at the bottom of the spire, in the cell next to ."
"Maybe he went mad too and that was just a fignt of his imagination..." Fors, with a wealth of novel creation experience, postulated a guess.
Alger glanced at Mr. Fool who sat at the end of the table. Seeing him appear staid and without expressing anything, he boldly said, "Imagination is a possibility, but one shouldn't imagine the na 'Amon' for no reason."
He turned his head to The Sun and said, "In the Fourth Epoch, uh—about 1500 years ago in the kingdom we live in, there was a family with strange powers. They belonged to the Tudor Dynasty, and their surna was Amon.
"Even in an era with nurous High-Sequence Beyonders, the surna of the clan was taboo."
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Justice Audrey asked instead of The Sun, "Why?"
The Hanged Man, Alger, didn't answer her directly as he continued on, "Abraham, Antigonus, Amon, Jacob, and Tamara are the five great families that supported the establishnt of the Tudor Dynasty, and they were second only to the Blood Emperor.
"Among them, the Amon family is the most mysterious one. They have the least history left behind, and they seem to have been distorted and covered up by so kind of power.
"There was a piece of information that ca from the King of the Five Seas, Nast. The Amons are a family of blasphers, and they wield the secrets to usurp the powers of deities!
"Also, the Amon family call themselves the descendants of the ancient Sun God."
Derrick Berg was left confused. In his knowledge of myths, there was no such thing as an ancient Sun God!
Among the eight ancient deities—Giant King, Aurmir; Dragon of Imagination, Ankewelt; Mutated King, Kvastir; Elf King, Soniathrym; King of Demonic Wolves, Flegrea; Vampire Ancestor, Lilith; Phoenix Ancestor, Gregrace; and Devil Monarch, Farbauti—none of them wielded the power of the Sun... Derrick seriously considered this problem. If I really need to make a connection, the Lord that created everything, the omnipotent and omniscient God had shown powers in the Sun domain. Could the Amon family be "His" descendant?
Noticing that Sun wasn't saying anything, Alger stroked the stubble on his chin and said, "The Amon family is an ancient family clan from one to two thousand years ago. It is almost history itself. I'm very curious; why did the gentleman that you t appear around the City of Silver? What is his goal?"
That's right, how could the Amon family, which exists in the "world" of Mr. Hanged Man, Miss Justice, and company, appear around our City of Silver... Why did he fail to fulfill his promise after accepting the request of "being a guest?" He mysteriously left and caused the entire team to lose control. Yes, other than the captain... What did he want to do? What was he looking for? If he is a descendant of the Lord, perhaps his purpose is the sa as mine: to find out the cause of the cataclysm from ancient tis and to find out the truth of the curse... Derrick let his imagination run wild for a mont. After a while, he shook his head and said, "Mr. Hanged Man, I'm unable to answer your question. I'm also trying to figure out this matter."
Alger replied, looking sowhat disappointed, "Try to communicate with the forr captain in your neighboring cell more. See if you can dig up more information from him."
Upon saying this, he thought for a mont and warned, "However, you must be careful and prudent. I think that person is very dangerous."
"Very dangerous? You think so too?" Derrick asked, feeling sowhat surprised.
The elders of the six-mber council also thought the sa!
The Hanged Man looked up at the lofty do and took a deep breath.
"Those who don't think so are the ones without sound minds."
Seeing that The Sun was still confused, he shook his head and said, "He's the only surviving mber of the exploration team. Just this matter alone is enough to prove that there's sothing trendously wrong with him.
"He's been in the dungeon facing Rampagers for forty-two years; yet, he remains very lucid and rational. This shows how weird he is! @@@@
"Compounded with the matter regarding the mysterious Amon, the danger is obvious."
These were the little bits and pieces that Derrick had thought about in the past, but he hadn't yet connected together. When he heard that, he suddenly beca enlightened and imdiately said sincerely, "I understand.
"Thank you, Mr. Hanged Man!"
Audrey, who was listening attentively and observing, resisted the urge to cover her face with her hand. She felt that The Sun was even more naive than she was.
Seeing that everyone's curiosity had been satisfied, that even the gloomy Mr. World had slightly adjusted his posture, and that The Sun didn't seem to have any other requests, she turned her head to the end of the long bronze table and said with a smile, "Mr. Fool, I request a private exchange."
Again... Klein was amused as he nodded and said, "Sure."
He imdiately shielded the senses of The Hanged Man and company, rather than isolating himself and Miss Justice. It was mainly because he was afraid that the others might end up communicating out of boredom, thereby exposing the fact that The World was only a repeater.
After receiving the signal, Audrey smiled and said, "Mr. Fool, I have another three new pages of Roselle's diary."
After the Card of Blasphemy was stolen by The Fool's adorer, she didn't avoid visiting the Royal Museum out of guilt. Instead, she acted as if nothing had happened. She openly requested this to her father, and in the week after the exhibition ended, she got another chance to flip through the notebook.
Audrey thought that appearing unfazed was the best way to avoid suspicion.
If she maintained the constant act of feeling guilty and did not do what was logical, even if the Church of the God of Steam didn't suspect her previously, they would subsequently feel that there was a problem.
According to her own experience, she believed that the very first few pages of a diary would reveal a lot of information, so she mainly morized the first three pages.
Without waiting for The Fool to speak, she quickly added, "I understand that this isn't a matter that requires a private exchange, but I wish to keep this from Miss Magician for a week or two. That way, even if she knows that you need Roselle's diary in the future, she wouldn't suspect that I'm Justice."
She had seen Fors and Xio once midweek, and by leading the conversation, she had naturally ntioned how her beloved dog, Susie, had chewed the Roselle notebook, causing it to be irrecoverable.
Typically speaking, she no longer needed to hide the fact that Mr. Fool needed Roselle's diary, but using her Telepathist abilities, she simulated what Fors would think, believing that she would have such a thought.
"What? That's a diary? That's a diary Roselle recorded his secrets in? Even Mr. Fool places so much importance on it!
"Eh, I recall that Miss Audrey has so. Wait a mont. She happened to have those diary pages chewed up by her dog a few days ago.
"Isn't this too much of a coincidence?"
To prevent Fors from having such thoughts, Audrey hoped to keep it a secret for at least another week.
After becoming a Telepathist, not only was she able to see the aura and the emotional color of the target, but she was also able to read the superficial thoughts of others and could also simulate their thoughts. Thus, she understood one thing—that in the process of "guiding" others, she had to try her best not to be abrupt or act against logic and reason. Only when all the details were subtle enough and reasonable enough to make the target not realize that she was being guided, would she be considered a qualified Telepathist.
"Subtle" and "reasonable" are the two most important keywords! Audrey concluded in her mind.
The reason why she went to read Roselle's "notebook" again was precisely to avoid being unreasonable.
She truly is worthy of being a Telepathist. She's recognized long ago that Miss Magician is one of the two people that she had recomnded... Klein smiled in a noncommittal manner.
"What do you want to exchange those three pages for?"
This question was asked with confidence because, after obtaining the Book of Secrets, his greatest weakness in the field of mysticism had already been bridged. As for the secrets of the other deities, as well as his knowledge of Sequences, he knew a lot about them. Just any one of them was enough to deal with Miss Justice.
We will still be friends if you don't talk about the Psychiatrist formula... Klein lampooned in his heart.
Audrey had already long thought of her question. She remained reserved for a second before saying, "Mr. Fool, I wish to ask one question. Why is it said that the Cards of Blasphemy hide the profound secrets of the deities?"
Great question! Klein smiled secretly. Giving her a look for her to figure it out herself, he said deeply and calmly, "Sequence 0, Dark Emperor."
Sequence 0? There's still a Sequence 0? There's a Sequence 0 above Sequence 1? Is that a Sequence representing a god? The Dark Emperor is a god? A series of questions suddenly surfaced in Audrey's mind.
This caused her to be pleasantly surprised, satisfied, and shocked!
Restraining her agitation and unconcealable excitent, she took a deep breath and conjured the three pages of Roselle's diary.
Klein took it, took a quick glance, and confird that this was not one of the ones he had seen before.
"23rd February 1143. I've transmigrated to this world for more than a week. I have to write sothing down and describe the things I have encountered, or I feel like I'll go crazy.
"Hehe, if I write it in Simplified Chinese, I'm sure that no one will be able to decipher it. This world uses alphabetical words!
"I am now Roselle Gustav, but I'll never forget my real na.
"Huang Tao!
"I don't know how I transmigrated either. I carefully recalled and thought about it for a long ti, and then I rembered that a few days before my transmigration, I bought a very mysterious silver plate with so strange symbols and patterns engraved on it. It was extrely interesting.
"However, it did not reappear after my transmigration here.
"It's not my cheat item!
"Hmm, this is a world similar to ancient Europe. It's after the Renaissance, and cannons and guns have appeared, but they're rather crude and primitive.
"As for , Huang Tao Roselle Gustav, as a fan of online literature, I loved reading transmigration with technology genre novels. I know quite a lot of useful things and specifically read up on the corresponding knowledge!
"This is the stage where I can display my abilities!
"But, I realized that my f**king mory isn't good! I've almost forgotten everything!
"The Heavens allowed to transmigrate to another world, but I wasn't given an outstanding mory or a system. Nor was I given a two-way door. How can I survive like this!?
"Alright, I'll start with so details. When I have the money, I'll hire a bunch of craftsn, inventors, and scientists. I'm only responsible for giving them ideas!
"It's been a long ti since I've felt so full of anticipation for the future.
"But I still miss Mom and Dad a little...
"Besides, the entertainnt in this world is too monotonous. The one or two maids don't look that good, and their entire bodies exude rustic vibes. It makes wish that Hongxiu 1 goes completely bankrupt.
"I haven't finished reading Lin Gao's Five Hundred Good-for-nothings 2 , and there are so many beauties that are awaiting on Tik Tok. The gas, Kings of Glory and PUBG, are still waiting for . Thinking about them makes feel a little depressed."
As Klein read, he nearly frowned.
Initially, he had determined, from the appearance of "Pirate King" and the "Four Horsen of the Apocalypse," that Roselle had crossed over three to five years earlier than him. But now, he realized that the gap between their transmigrations couldn't be more than a year!
But why was there a difference of nearly two hundred years on this side?
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