Chapter 70

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Clip-clop, clip-clop.

As the carriage rolled away, Klein—with his spirit vision activated—did not see the sweet young lady as he had expected. The only thing before his eyes was the brown carriage moving past him.

At that moment, all of the passengers had finished boarding; the carriage door was tightly closed as it slowly drove away.

About twenty to thirty human figures were packed inside, standing so close that their auras overlapped into an explosion of vivid, indistinguishable colors.

Klein shook his head quietly and raised his finger to tap his brow, deactivating his spirit vision.

To him, helping others was a simple notion that he would pursue if the opportunity arose. But since he had already missed that chance—and the situation hadn’t been all that clear—there was no point in taking it to heart or putting off his own affairs.

Bathed in the crimson moonlight, Klein strolled slowly back home along the still bustling Daffodil Street. When he arrived, he found Melissa sitting by the dining table, diligently working on her schoolwork under the bright light of a gas lamp. She bit the tip of her fountain pen and frowned, deep in thought.

“Where’s Benson?” Klein asked casually.

“Ah...” Melissa looked up, her face blank for a few seconds before replying, “He said he went around a few boroughs today and got so covered in sweat that he wanted to relax with a nice bath.”

“All right,” Klein chuckled. Suddenly, he noticed she was wearing a dress he had never seen before. It was a creamy white day dress with fashionable leg-of-mutton sleeves. The edges of the collar and lapel were decorated with thin frills, yet the overall design was simple and light—perfect for a girl of sixteen or seventeen.

“New dress?” Klein asked with a smile.

It was a purchase that both he and Benson had insisted upon.

Melissa hummed an answer, “I just got it back from Mrs. Rochelle. I figured since I was going to wash it later anyway, I might as well try it on first.”

Klein was rather puzzled when he heard that.

“Mrs. Rochelle?”

Wasn't she our former neighbor?

Melissa nodded, explaining in all seriousness, “Mrs. Rochelle is actually a seamstress. She had been quite unlucky in life, so she took on mending work at home. I know she’s excellent at her craft, and her price was much cheaper than buying directly from a women’s clothing shop. Besides, it’s tailored perfectly to my figure. It only cost nine soli and five pence and took just a few days. A dress of similar style would cost one and a half pounds at Harrod’s!”

What a frugal girl... Sis, I know at least half the reason is your pity for Mrs. Rochelle...He did not reproach her for it, though. Instead, he smiled and asked, “When did you go to Harrod’s?”

That was at Howes Street, near the Divination Club. It was a place that only the middle-class or above could afford to shop at.

“...” Melissa was momentarily at a loss for words. It took her a long while before she said, “It was Selena and Elizabeth. They insisted I accompany them there. I actually, well—I prefer gears. I like places with steam and machinery.”

“It’s nice for a girl to occasionally shop at a department store,”

Klein said with a chuckle as he comforted his sister.

After some idle chatter, he briskly headed to the second floor, eager to wash away the repulsive mix of smells from the bar.

Just as he was about to return to his bedroom for a change of clothes, Klein suddenly heard sounds coming from the bathroom near the balcony. A few seconds later, Benson emerged, drying his hair, which was already regaining its usual style.

“So? Did you compliment Melissa's new dress?” Benson asked Klein with a smile.

“I think I forgot. All I did was ask where it was made...,” Klein replied after a brief pause.

Benson immediately chortled and shook his head. “What a sorry excuse for an older brother. When Melissa received the dress, she couldn’t bear to put it down. After rushing to cook and wash the dishes, she immediately put the dress on and hasn’t taken it off ever since.”

“...Didn’t she say she was only trying it on until her bath, so she could wash and starch it at the same time?” Klein subconsciously countered, recalling Melissa’s own explanation.

“Hahhh”Benson sighed. “It’s been scorching these past few days, and she spent so long in the kitchen that I believe she’d feel much better doing her homework after a bath.”

That’s true...Klein was suddenly enlightened. He and Benson exchanged a knowing smile.

So that’s what kind of person you are, Melissa... There’s nothing wrong with a girl wanting to look pretty. You don’t need to find excuses to pretend otherwise...The corners of his mouth lifted as he shook his head gently and walked into his bedroom.

While he was taking his bath, Klein faintly heard the sound of knocking downstairs. Questions immediately filled his mind.

Doesn’t the worker in charge of collecting coins from the gas meter come only once every two weeks?

Could it be Mrs. Shaud from next door? That can’t be. I thought she strictly adhered to middle-class etiquette and wouldn’t call at an inappropriate time.

In his puzzlement, Klein quickly dried himself. Putting on an old but comfortable shirt and trousers, he hurriedly ran down the stairs. But looking around, he didn’t see any strangers.

“Was someone at the door just now?” he asked.

Benson, reading the newspaper leisurely, smiled and said, “It was Beech Mountbatten, one of the policemen in charge of Ironcross Street. He asked if we’d seen an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old boy with a round face today. He even showed us a sketch to see if we’d recognize him. Unfortunately, neither of us had seen him, or we could have gotten a reward. What about you?”

“Nope,” Klein replied, already piecing together the situation.

Instigator Tris had successfully escaped from the Dark Dragon Bar by the docks. He’d fled to somewhere near Ironcross Street and Daffodil Street, and now the police were making rounds, going door-to-door.

This also meant that the operation to capture the Instigator had completely failed!

Klein didn’t trouble himself with the situation. He had yet to begin combat training and was only a novice shooter, so dealing with a natural Assassin was nothing short of a death wish.

Nevertheless, he did not sleep well that night. He was plagued by constant worry that the Instigator might sneak in and hide in their house, leading to yet another bloodbath.

Thankfully, Daffodil Street remained quiet throughout the night, and the morning sun eventually dispersed the shadows.

Now relaxed, Klein changed into his good suit, donned his top hat, picked up his cane, and headed to Jutland Street. In the foyer, he greeted Rosanne.

“Good morning, Klein,” Rosanne replied cheerfully. Then she lowered her voice and said, “I heard the big operation last night failed?”

“The operation to nab Instigator Tris?” Klein asked curiously.

“Mm-hmm!” Rosanne nodded heavily. She glanced toward the partition and said, “Apparently, an informant from the Mandated Punishers spotted the Instigator at the dock area. They planned to wait for additional Beyonders and a Special Operations squad from the police department so they could nab him in one fell swoop without alarming ordinary folk. Unfortunately, that Instigator was extremely sharp—he immediately sensed something was amiss, broke out of the encirclement, and escaped.”

“At times like these, they need a Beyonder with tracking abilities—like me,” Klein joked.

“There was no shortage of trackers at the scene,” Dunn Smith’s deep voice suddenly sounded from behind. Rosanne whipped around and saw the captain in his black trench coat, leaning in the doorway with deep gray eyes fixed on her. She quickly raised her hands to cover her mouth, shaking her head to indicate she hadn’t said anything.

After taking a moment to think, Dunn Smith turned his gaze to Klein and said, “There were more than six Beyonders in total—from the Mandated Punishers, the Machinery Hivemind, and the Nighthawks. We traced the injured Tris to Ironcross Street. We found his temporary hideout, but the clues ended there. Whether through extraordinary methods or ordinary investigations, it was as if he had evaporated into thin air.”

“Do you need my help with divination?” Klein asked tentatively.

Dunn Smith shook his head lightly. “The Machinery Hivemind has a Mystery Pryer—a senior one as capable as Old Neil. I even suspect he’s already at Sequence Eight, though I don’t know the corresponding potion’s name.”

“There must be something special about the Theosophy Order to have lasted this long,” Klein consoled him.

For the rest of the morning, Klein continued his mysticism curriculum—reading historical literature and practicing various techniques as always. With lunchtime approaching, his mind began to wander. After a few more minutes, he put away the documents, heeding his stomach’s demands.

At that moment, Dunn Smith entered the clerk’s office. In his deep, resonant voice, he said, “Klein, come with me down to Chanis Gate. Sealed Artifact 2-049 has arrived. The next operation might require your perception of that notebook.”

“...All right,” Klein replied, rising. His thoughts whirled as he imagined how the Sealed Artifact would look and wondered if the upcoming operation would be dangerous.

In the slightly tense silence that followed, he trailed behind Dunn down the stairs into the underground corridor. After passing a busy intersection, Dunn suddenly stopped and turned his head, saying sternly, “Watch and copy this movement. Keep at it without pause. Under no circumstance should you stop. Remember, you absolutely cannot stop. This is for your own safety!”

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As he spoke, Dunn bent his arm at the elbow and then straightened it, repeating the motion several times without interruption. Confused, Klein watched the captain’s demonstration. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and he asked, “Does this have to do with the unique property of the Sealed Artifact?”

“Yes,” Dunn nodded with unusual solemnity. “Repeating this action allows us to immediately detect if you’ve been affected. As long as we save you in time, it won’t be life-threatening.”

“Okay,” Klein said without hesitation and began mimicking the repeated bending and straightening of his arm.

“If your arm becomes sore, switch to the other one,” Dunn added.

Sealed Artifact 2-049 is certainly odd... But what significance does this gesture hold? It seems very dangerous...These thoughts flashed through Klein’s mind as he regarded the captain solemnly.

“All right.” He had too many questions, but with Chanis Gate in sight, he had no choice but to push them aside.Besides, with my security clearance, I probably can't learn any more details—I can only do as I'm told...

Klein exhaled as he followed Captain Dunn down to the guard room outside Chanis Gate.