In the dark underground structure, Klein walked around the hall with a raised lantern in his hand. He thoroughly checked to see if there were any other entrances. Of course, he didn’t dare enter the tunnel that led to the innermost room, and the newly gathered snakes were, once again, blown away by a biting cold wind.
After receiving confirmation, he took the initiative to retreat to the side of the gate, where he watched, along with the three zombies, as Sharron placed explosives at different locations.
“She looks very professional.” Klein sighed softly.
And without a doubt, the three zombies didn’t respond to his musings.
However, there was a reason for this. He kept using his spirituality to wrap Azik’s copper whistle so as to shield against its negative effects; otherwise, he would’ve encountered their abnormally passionate “response.”
He had no intention of bringing this ancient and exquisite copper whistle with him originally, but considering that he had to guard against the evil spirit’s manipulations, he could only sacrifice some of his spirituality.
While Klein’s thoughts wandered and made all sorts of associations, Sharron finished setting up the explosives and, in passing, lit the fuse.
As for the three zombies, they calmly followed behind him.
“It’s very safe here.” Sharron suddenly appeared and floated beside him.
Klein breathed a sigh of relief and asked, “Will dust fall from the tremors over here?”
“Yes,” Sharron answered with a single word.
“That’s good.” As he spoke, Klein took another step back.
The hissing sound of the fuse burning reached his ears, making him feel slightly irritated.
It wasn’t because he was afraid of the explosion that followed, but because he couldn’t feel at ease.
“One,” Sharron said suddenly.
“Huh?” Klein didn’t understand what she meant.
The earth shook violently, and plumes of dust fell from above. Klein’s ears buzzed, and for a moment he couldn’t hear anything else.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he was a Clown, he would’ve lost his balance and collapsed to the ground.
During the remaining tremors, Klein gripped the copper whistle given to him by Mr. Azik and observed its reaction.
Although he had divined beforehand that his expedition would be safe, he didn’t dare to believe it completely, even if it was a revelation gained from above the gray fog since it involved the statues of the six orthodox gods. Therefore, he cautiously judged whether or not the evil spirit was freed with the help of Azik’s copper whistle.
The copper whistle’s surface was cold but mild, and it had no abnormal changes. Completely relieved, Klein looked at the zombies beside him and confirmed one thing from their eyes: his face was very dirty right now.
“Let’s call it a day.” With an exaggerated snap of his fingers, Klein led the three zombies back to the basement of the house. As for Sharron, she had already disappeared.
In the spacious basement, Millet Carter was nervously pacing back and forth, looking at the secret door from time to time.
As soon as he saw Detective Moriarty and his assistants exit, he let out a long breath and asked anxiously, “What happened inside?”
Klein deliberately panted and said, “That underground structure is too old, it hasn’t been repaired in a long time. We were driving the snakes away, but with just a little bit of movement, it collapsed. The whole area has collapsed, but luckily we were close to the door and managed to escape in time.”
“Holy Lord of Storms! That structure was that dangerous?” Millet Carter pounded his left breast.
“Yes, there are always only a few ancient buildings that can be preserved. The rest would’ve collapsed in the river of history,” Klein answered. “I’ll bring you in to confirm the situation.”
“Will there be more collapses?” Millet asked cautiously.
“No, this area is quite sturdy.” Klein deliberately patted the dust off his body and coughed twice. He then led his employer in and stopped at the entrance that was completely blocked. The walls near the hall had also collapsed, leaving behind only stones and dirt.
“You can use this area.” He pointed to the corridor area.
Millet was silent for a few seconds before he sighed.
“Thank goodness I didn’t hastily send someone in to explore but instead went to look for you, a professional. Otherwise, I would’ve had to bear the burden of the loss of several lives.
“Alright, this commission ends here. I’ll pay you the rest of the reward.”
As he spoke, Millet Carter took out his wallet, did a count, and was somewhat embarrassed to find that there were only about thirty pounds in cash.
“Fortunately, I still have other forms of money; otherwise, I’d have to go to the bank,” Millet mumbled as he looked up at Klein. “Do you mind taking gold coins?”
“No, I don’t mind any form of money.” Klein smiled.
The gold pound of the Loen Kingdom could be in the form of gold coins unless they were of huge denominations. This was the guarantee of the denomination on paper money.
However, in the past hundred years after Emperor Roselle, the people of the Northern Continent had become more and more accustomed to paper money. There were even some Members of Parliament who wanted notes to replace copper pennies.
Gold, in the true sense of the word, already hardly ever circulated in the market. Only some of the old gentlemen would attach a fixed box on the other end of their pocket watch chains which contained some gold in case of accidents.
It was to give them peace of mind and was also a habit.
Millet nodded, and following the gold chain on his clothes, he pulled out a box that flickered with golden light from a certain pocket.
He opened the box, took out five gold coins, and handed them together with the notes he had previously counted to the detective.
Klein didn’t hide his actions as he counted the money and suddenly flicked a gold coin and caught it coolly.
“Thank you for your generosity.” He glanced up at the statue and smiled sincerely. Then he pressed his hand to his chest and bowed whilst facing Millet Carter.
Arriving on the street, without even informing him, the three zombies walked in another direction.
Then, he went home and changed into his normal clothes and headed for the Quelaag Club to practice shooting.
After also settling his dinner there as a reward for the successful completion of his mission, Klein returned to Minsk Street in a public carriage.
The dark, gloomy environment was illuminated by gas lamps, and with his cane, he strolled leisurely along the street.
Suddenly, he had a premonition which wasn’t too good or bad.
The history of dogs dated back as far as the Roselle period, but the numbers had always been small.
Considering that he had many things on him, and considering his earlier premonition, Klein decided to take a detour.
But at that moment, the two policemen saw him and signaled for him to stop.
The corner of Klein’s mouth twitched as he waited in place with a smile on his face.
“Routine investigation.” As they approached, one of the officers showed his identification documents.
“Alright…” Before Klein could finish his sentence, the police dog suddenly growled at him and barked endlessly.
Slowly, he took out his revolver, raised his hands to his shoulders, and added with a serious smile, “Officers, I really am not bearing a gun illegally.”
As one constable remained on high alert, the other constable received the revolver and said seriously, “You have to come back to the police station with us.”
“Alright,” Klein returned with a radiant smile. “But I have a request. Please inform my lawyer, Mr. Jurgen Cooper. I will only accept a body search with him around.”
