Chapter 224: Mystic-type Detective

The dim room was covered in a thin veil of crimson moonlight, and

everything was indistinct.

The three men in the black coats were sleeping in different spots. And

on the sofa, Klein's eyes half-blended into the darkness by closing

them, it was as if he had entered a deep slumber.

His dream was a gray, distorted world, occasionally flashing with

brilliance.

Finally, the brilliance settled to form a scene.

It was a gloomy corner, the ground sloshed with sewage. A man with short

brown hair, a white shirt, and a brown vest was leaning against the

wall, surrounded by a dense mischief of gray rats.

Half of the man's lips had been bitten off, revealing his yellowish

teeth and rotten gums. His nose was only stained with blood, mixed with

some short hairs, and the flesh on his face had disappeared, piece by

piece, revealing white bone. White, fat maggots were crawling around

everywhere, constantly squirming, and his throat seemed to have been the

victim of some wild beast; at least half of it was missing.

Klein could just barely make out that this was Zreal Viktor Lee. It was

nearly impossible to relate him to the mature and handsome man in the

black-and-white photograph he had taken with Ian.

*Zreal is already dead. In a few days, he would probably be gnawed to

the point where he would only be bone. He might not even have a complete

skeleton left...* Klein left the dream and recalled what he had

just seen.

His past experiences had allowed him to witness similar corpses more

calmly.

Looking out of the window at the crimson moon, Klein thought for more

than ten seconds and decided to try communicating with the soul of the

man in black next to the sofa.

During the last few days of preparations, he had concocted a bottle of

Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medication. As for Serenity Agent,

Klein had no need for it. He was personally capable of invading the

dreams of others and forcefully communicating with their souls while

maintaining calm and rationale.

After setting up a simple altar and letting the quiet and tranquil

fragrance waft out to create a half-dreaming state, Klein prayed to

himself, "The Fool that doesn't belong to this era."

Following that, he entered the world above the gray fog and used more

than two-thirds of his spirituality to give a response.

*When I advance to Sequence 7, such prayers should also allow me to use

a little of the power of the mysterious space above the gray fog, just

like my summoning and bestowment rituals...* Looking around,

Klein made a rough judgment and quickly returned to the real world.

He passed through what seemed like a starry sky and a chaotic storm of

thoughts, entering the mental plane of the target. There, he saw the

man's illusory figure floating in midair.

"Who sent you to Zreal's home?" Klein looked at him and asked in a deep

voice.

The man replied in a daze, his illusory eyes vacant, "Meursault.

Meursault sent me to wait for the boy named Ian."

The light in his spiritual world changed, revealing a lean,

capable-looking, dark-skinned man. He was none other than the leader of

the group who was chasing Ian on the steam train.

As expected, it's him... Klein, who had exhausted so much of

his spirituality in responding to the prayer, was beginning to feel

exhausted. He hurriedly asked, "Who ordered Meursault?"

"No idea... He's an 'executioner' of our Zmanger gang. No one can order

him other than the boss," the man said, blankly.

*Zmanger... The word "warrior" in the language of the

highlanders...* Klein, a pseudo-historian but a true mysticism

scholar, suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, and his body

involuntarily flew out of the storm of thoughts.

Not long afterwards, he exited the mediumship and felt his head

throbbing.

He was in no hurry to leave. He methodically packed up the materials and

the short yellowish-brown hair before opening the oriel window to let in

the cold night wind to disperse the smell of the Amantha extract and Eye

of the Spirit medication.

While this happened, Klein returned to the balcony, locked the door from

the inside, and wiped off all the places he had touched.

When Zreal's bedroom returned to its original state, he then held his

hand to his chest and bowed towards the three men who were still

sleeping soundly.

Straightening his back, Klein put on his gloves and leaped, nimbly

flipping out of the oriel window. He stood firmly, tiptoeing in the

abnormally tight space.

He raised the open window's vertical latch and used a tarot card to hold

its bottom. With his Clown abilities, he took in the details and

adjusted the balance.

After a few seconds, Klein slowly pulled back the tarot card, and the

vertical latch suddenly stopped in place and didn't fall further.

Whoosh!

First, he closed the unlatched half of the window, then he jumped over

to the window with a latch. His right hand jerked inward, closing the

other half of the window.

The speed of the action was so quick that the latch didn't fall down

until there was a vibration, accurately inserting itself into the

matching hole.

Clang! A sound that was difficult to eliminate rang out, like

a strong wind slamming onto the surface of the glass.

Klein knew that the three men in the bedroom were about to awaken.

Without further ado, he jumped onto the street.

For the current him, the height from the second floor wouldn't pose any

danger. It was just that he couldn't maintain his silence when he

landed, so he didn't make any obvious noises.

Klein quickly left the vicinity, as well as Rose Street, but he didn't

directly take a rental carriage back to Cherwood Borough's Minsk Street.

He turned a few corners and headed to the neighboring East Borough.

It was a cold night, and the wind sent a biting chill right into his

bones. Klein shivered and decided that he would need an additional

sweater for his future missions. He decided to buy charcoal on one of

the following days and let the fireplace carry out its role.

After an unknown period of time, he entered Backlund's East Borough

despite not having a map. He had completely relied on instinct.

There were only a few gas lamps to be seen in the distance, and if it

wasn't for the fact that the dark clouds hadn't covered the crimson

moon, Klein believed that many parts of the road would be pitch black.

As he was walking, he suddenly saw pairs of eyes appear in the deep

darkness in front of him. They came stooping from a distance.

They sauntered over from a vague distance away, in silence.

Living corpses? Klein came to a sudden halt. He reached out

for his Requiem Charm and tarot cards, and he quickly activated his

Spirit Vision.

He saw the unhealthy and weak colored auras and saw the faces of the

numerous figures.

These were all living people, normal living people with numbed

expressions, vacant eyes, and weak movements. There were both men and

women.

*It's almost midnight; why are they still walking on the

streets...* Confused, Klein warily leaned to one side, passing

the group on the sidewalk, but soon, he came across a second wave, a

third wave; all of them had the same pain amidst numbness.

He frowned slightly, and just as he was about to move forward to

inquire, he suddenly heard a shout ahead.

"Get up! All of you get up!

"You sons of bitches!

"The streets and parks aren't for people like you to sleep in!"

... Klein was startled, then the corresponding term "Poor Law" popped up

in his mind, and he understood what was going on.

He had experienced the same thing himself.

Phew... Klein exhaled, picked up the pace, and headed for his

one-bedroom house on Black Palm Street in the East Borough.

There, he slept for two hours. After recovering some of his

spirituality, he went out again and broke a withered branch to serve as

a "dowsing rod."

"The location of Zreal's corpse.

"The location of Zreal's corpse."

After repeated divinations, Klein walked for a long time with the help

of the short yellowish-brown hair until he arrived at a corner of East

Borough where there was a sewer entrance.

Twelve years ago, after the great plague, the Loen Kingdom gradually

built up an advanced sewer system in the capital and, in one fell swoop,

surpassed "Roselle's Heritage" of the Intis Republic.

Moving the manhole cover out the way, Klein held his breath and climbed

down the vertical metal stairs.

Since his clothes weren't specially made, he was unable to bring too

many items due to the lack of pockets. He hadn't brought Quelaag's Oil

which he had learned about from Frye. Klein felt especially regretful

for not having brought the refreshing and odor-dispelling Quelaag's Oil.

Ten seconds later, Klein's feet touched the sticky ground.

The feeling of filth caused fine goosebumps to pop up over his arms and

body. However, he could only endure it and continue walking forward,

venturing deeper into the empty and quiet sewer.

There was a fork in the road ahead, one which was relatively hidden. A

thick pungent smell wafted over from there.

Klein turned around and walked to the end where he saw a dense number of

spirituality light dots and aura colors.

Without needing to use a candle, he activated his Spirit Vision and

directly saw that in the dark corner, there was a rotten corpse that had

been bitten to pieces.

This was the exact same scene he had seen in the dream divination.

Squeak!

The densely packed gray rats scampered in every direction, but there

were also some who stayed where they were, unwilling to leave and part

with their food.

After confirming that it was Zreal, Klein hesitated for a moment before

quickly setting up a mediumship ritual.

*Hmm... If there's nothing wrong with Ian's description, and Zreal died

only a few days ago, I should be able to get some rough information by

channeling his spirit...* he thought confidently.

Whoosh!

As the wind swirled and the wall of spirituality was set up, all the

rats fled, and Klein proceeded with his ritual as he had done before.

"The cause of Zreal's death.

"The cause of Zreal's death."

As he recited the words, Klein's eyes turned black. His pupils and the

whites of his eyes disappeared. He quickly used Cogitation to enter a

dream.

However, nothing appeared in that misty, illusory world.

Klein opened his eyes, frowning slightly as he made his judgment.

The channeling failed...

Someone has dealt with Zreal's spirit...

A Beyonder was involved in this.

*The fact that someone was able to disguise as Zreal, making the other

detectives unable to see through him, also proves this point.*

After some deliberation, Klein came to a decision; it was to end this

matter here and not get involved any further. Regardless, he had

fulfilled the requirements of the job that he was entrusted with.

"I'll get Ian to call the police," he muttered as he put away the

materials and removed the wall of spirituality.