Chapter 68: Monster
At dusk, the setting sun cast long shadows of the carriages and horses.
Having informed Benson and Melissa that he was having dinner at the
Blackthorn Security Company, Klein headed to the harbor with Old Neil on
a public carriage.
He was dressed in cheap formal attire, afraid that conflict might break
out in such a complicated location---if he damaged his tuxedo which he
took painstaking care of, he would probably cry his heart out.
When the sunlight appeared to turn fiery, the carriage stopped. Old
Neil, in his usual classic black robe and felt black hat with a rounded
edge, ignored the gazes of others and walked diagonally to the Evil
Dragon Bar ahead of them.
Even though the bar was slightly far away and the heavy doors were
tightly shut, Klein still heard wave after wave of rapturous shouts.
They appeared to be cheering on a hero.
When he came close, he suddenly sensed something. He turned his head
towards the warehouse opposite to the bar. He saw a stocky man dressed
in a uniform standing at a hidden corner on the rooftop.
The man carried a huge grayish-white mechanical box and held a thick
rifle in his hand.
The grayish-white mechanical box was obviously connected to the
same-colored rifle via piping.
"Steam-pressured rifle?" Klein muttered in shock. He looked at Old Neil
and said, "This bar can actually obtain such weapons?"
That was a military-controlled item!
Although it used extracted phlogiston[A substance supposed by 18th-century chemists to exist in all combustible bodies, and to be released in combustion.], the size and weight of the steam
backpack were still shocking, something only a true warrior of blood and
iron could withstand. The rifle had an extremely high muzzle velocity
and shocking destructive power too.
Matched with a suitable scope, it was nearly equivalent to an inferior
sniper rifle.
"What?" Old Neil squinted his eyes as he looked over, having a confused
look too. "Did something happen here?"
Something happened? Klein surveyed his surroundings and
discovered a few more men holding repeating rifles who were searching
for something.
"What happened?" Old Neil approached the bar and asked the brawny man
guarding its door outside.
The brawny man obviously knew Old Neil and smiled wryly.
"The bar was nearly destroyed earlier.
"Apparently a wanted man was here trying to buy materials and was
recognized. And this was what resulted from it. Oh Lord, what did he do,
and how dangerous was he to receive such treatment? My legs went limp
seeing all those firearms, limper than after spending an entire night
with Ginger Sunny!"
He did not know the identity of the wanted man, much less know that the
people who came to buy materials had Beyonders mixed in.
"Wanted man? Do you know his name?" Old Neil asked in interest.
"I think it was Tris or something?" the brawny man answered uncertainly.
Instigator Tris? Klein nodded in enlightenment, having
understood what was happening.
Tris did not know that Joyce Meyer had cast his suspicion on him;
therefore, he had sauntered right into the market to purchase materials
without heed. He was likely recognized by an informant of either the
Machinery Hivemind or the Nighthawks, resulting in an intense clash.
"Was he caught?" Klein tapped his silver-inlaid black cane.
Based on the surrounding situation, likely not...
The brawny man shook his head slightly and gestured with his chin to the
rooftop of the warehouse opposite him.
"He rushed out before those terrifying guys arrived. Bloody hell, I've
never seen a man run faster than he did!"
*You haven't seen the true skills of an Assassin, or you might be taken
away to some indescribable place for further reeducation...*
Klein thought.
"Is the market still open?" Old Neil changed subjects and asked.
"It just restored operations," replied the brawny man affirmatively.
"That's great." Old Neil quickened his pace and extended his right hand,
pushing open the heavy door.
Klein followed closely in tow and walked in. He nearly fainted at the
stuffiness and smell of alcohol that inundated him.
In the middle of Evil Dragon Bar was a boxing ring. Two half-naked men
were in an intense brawl and surrounding them were dozens of customers
shouting and cheering on the side they supported with no lack of
vulgarities.
Old Neil ignored them and led Klein around the boxing ring and walked
into a billiard room at the back.
In the billiard room, there were two people holding cue sticks, having a
casual conversation. When they saw Old Neil enter, they instantly fell
silent for a few seconds.
After confirming the visitor's identity, they moved aside and let Old
Neil and Klein pass through the secret door behind them.
After passing through a few rooms, the sight before Klein's eyes opened
up. He saw a place that was about the size of a lecture hall from his
previous life.
Some vendors had set up roadside stalls with bottles and cans all over.
Passers-by strolled through them, either scrutinizing their goods,
chatting, or comparing prices.
"They have to give five percent of their profits to Swain. Ah, he is the
boss of Evil Dragon Bar, former captain of a Mandated Punisher squad and
older than I am. He's someone who wishes to drink himself to his death,"
Old Neil explained in a garrulous manner.
Klein thought and gave an honest evaluation.
"A rather profitable business."
After all, his only expense was providing the venue and protection.
"If any item catches your fancy but you lack the money, you can borrow
from Swain. But of course, he charges a very high interest..." Old Neil
trailed off as he gnashed his teeth.
*As expected, it's like running a casino, they would provide
usuries...* Klein held his walking stick and looked around as he
asked curiously, "Mr. Swain is a Seafarer?"
The captain of a Mandated Punisher squad was likely a Sequence 7.
"No, he is only a Folk of Rage. Tingen is not a coastal city, so the
Church of the Goddess is much more powerful than the Lord of Storms
here." Old Neil scoffed. "Actually, Swain had the chance of becoming a
Seafarer, but was afraid that he would lose control so he chose to give
up."
Just as Klein was about to ask if the boss of the bar had any experience
of nearly losing control, he suddenly felt a strange phenomenon happen
on his left.
There appeared to be something hidden there, muttering and recounting.
Klein turned his head and saw a pale young man. He was wearing an old
linen shirt and blue jeans that the working class normally wore. His
eyes looked demoralized with a hint of craziness, and he was constantly
mumbling.
"His spiritual perception is very high... or perhaps, distorted?" Klein
creased his eyebrows and muttered.
It was the young man's spiritual perception that triggered his own
spiritual perception!
Generally speaking, spiritual perception sensing something causes some
interaction. It was nearly impossible to conceal it from others, but
"others" referred to Spirit Mediums who had cast their abilities, as
well as powerful figures with similar special traits. A Beyonder like
Klein would actually find it hard to detect, only detecting if one's
spiritual perception reached a certain heightened level, or an abnormal
distortion happened.
They made eye contact and the pale young man with messy black hair
walked towards him with an expression looking as though he was
half-sleepwalking and half-insane.
He stopped before Klein and stared at him.
Suddenly, he guffawed.
"Haha, it's the smell of death, death... Ah!"
Before he was done talking, he suddenly screamed tragically. His eyes
shut tightly as liquid with the color of blood flowed out.
"Ah! Darn it!" The young man covered his eyes and hugged his head. He
struggled on the ground and only calmed down after a while. He then lay
there panting.
During the entire process, not a single customer or stall vendor looked
over.
Klein pressed down his halved top hat and looked at Old Neil. Klein's
mouth was hanging open in shock, using his actions to demonstrate his
shock and to request for advice.
"Don't mind him. He's Ademisaul, an orphan, nicknamed 'monster.' He was
born with high spiritual perception, and he has always been able to see
things that he shouldn't, hear voices that he shouldn't. Hence, he is
always raving and often getting hurt." Old Neil shook his head as he
explained.
He could tell that my body was once dead? Klein knitted his
eyebrows and lowered his voice as he asked in doubt, "Haven't the
Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, or the Machinery Hivemind ever thought
of taking him in?"
"No, we do not have the Sequence potion that suits him," said Old Neil
with a sigh.
*Right, he was born with the starting point of half a
Sequence...* Klein asked again curiously,
"What Sequence pathway suits him?"
"The Sequence 9 that suits him is called 'Monster.' His nickname came
from there. It's a pity that only the Life School of Thought has control
over the Sequence pathway's beginning," Old Neil replied softly.
He tried to keep the conversation between him and Klein from the people
around them to avoid leaking information to mysticism enthusiasts.
Life School of Thought? Klein recalled the information he had
previously read.
The secret organization appeared in the beginning of the current epoch.
Its actual origins were unknown, but it was mainly passed down via
master and apprentice.
Their theories and beliefs were hardly known. Klein only knew that they
separated the world into three layers: the world of absolute
rationality, also known as the absolute truth world, the world of the
spirit, and the material world.
*Rumor had it that the secret organization had once produced a
Soothsayer... Wasn't that a Sequence pathway that corresponded to Seer?
Confusing, really confusing...* Klein shook his head and saw
Ademisaul struggle to get up and then wander off to another corner.
He reorganized his thoughts and followed behind Old Neil. They walked
past one stall after another. There were plants like moon flower,
fingered citron, night vanilla, and mineral resources like silver,
topaz, ruby and so on.
"It's really very well equipped..." Klein muttered softly.
The mysticism enthusiasts of all ages and genders around him would be
stopping, distinguishing, or talking at times. It gave the area a
bustling vibe.
"Walk around on your own. I am going to settle my bill." Old Neil
pointed at one of the two rooms at the end.
"Alright." Klein nodded without thought.
He strolled with his black cane and came before a stall which sold
self-made amulets. He took a careful look at it for a while.
Just when Klein prepared to speak with the seller, he suddenly heard
someone asking the stall behind him, "Is this powder ground from cow
teeth paeonol?"
*Cow teeth paeonol? Isn't that one of the supplementary ingredients of
the Spectator potion?* Klein thought, then turned around to look
at the inquirer.
Justice had repeated the formula for the potion several times, so Klein
had been left with a remarkably clear impression of the ingredients.