Recently, there had been people preaching the faith of the original Creator in East Borough, the dock area, and the factory district. It pushed the belief that “He” hadn’t really passed away and that he existed in the body of every human being and every object. As long as one served “Him” wholeheartedly and praised “Him,” then not only would “His” believers be redeemed after death, but they would also enter “His” kingdom. They would also suffer tremendous improvements in their present life, for instance, having sizzling meat to eat every day.
This was very close to the Aurora Order’s theory of the mutated Creator, so Klein had decided that it was the secret organization which was behind it. He felt that they had begun to value the vast majority of the poor after the Lanevus incident.
The well-dressed middle-aged man immediately revealed a smile.
“Then, do you know about the incoming apocalypse? Do you know that the original Creator will create a sanctuary to protect ‘His’ believers?”
For a moment, Klein thought of going with the flow and be inoculated so as to slowly infiltrate the Aurora Order’s periphery organization, so as to gather the appropriate evidence and clues to take revenge on them for seeking the believers of The Fool. But after careful consideration, he felt that it was too dangerous. It was something that was tiring and troublesome for him to do alone, without any certainty of success.
In the end, he decided to inform the Machinery Hivemind about the current situation and leave it to the official organizations to handle!
After thinking through the problem, Klein’s expression immediately darkened.
“I don’t know, and I don’t want to know!”
He strode forward, shaking off the middle-aged man and ignoring his shouts.
On the way out of East Borough, he watched carefully and found that the workers who had lost their jobs due to the off-season and the efficiency improvements from textile machines were grouped together. They were being comforted and were listening to the preaches from people of unknown identities.
At noon, the Bravehearts Bar had just opened, and there were almost no drunkards present. Only the nearby, busy workers would come in and grab a simple lunch.
Klein mingled with them and spent ten pence on wheat bread with pork sausages and a glass of Southville beer, making himself appear rather rich.
After leisurely filling his stomach and finishing his beer, he looked at the bartender.
“Is Kaspars Kalinin here?”
He planned on replenishing some of his ordinary ammunition while he was here.
The bartender glanced at him.
“It seems like you haven’t been here in a while?
“Kaspars is dead. It’s said that he was a little restless while sleeping at night, wrapping himself in a tight bundle and suffocating himself in the end. Heh heh, I don’t really believe that kind of thing would happen. I’ve only heard about such things in ghost stories, but that’s what those black-and-white dogs say.”
Black-and-white dogs were referring to the police who wore black-and-white checked uniforms.
While feeling surprised, Klein also felt pity for the black-market arms dealer.
The bartender wiped a cup and continued, “If you wish to buy some stuff, there’s a new dealer.”
“Who?” Klein asked in passing.
“Old Man. He’s in Billiard room 3,” the bartender said without looking up.
Klein immediately stood up, slowly walked towards that familiar place, and knocked on the unlocked door.
“Come in.” A voice rang out.
Standing by the table was a boy that didn’t look too old. He was dressed in an old overcoat, a brown bowler hat, and had bright red eyes. It was Ian, whom Klein had met when he first arrived in Backlund. Back then, he was entrusted with the case of Detective Zreal’s disappearance and was ultimately involved in the conflict over the manuscripts of a third-generation difference machine. He had been forced to pay a high price to have Mr. A from the Aurora Order kill the Intis ambassador that was sent to the Loen Kingdom, Bakerland Jean Madan.
“It’s you, Detective Moriarty?” Ian was startled.
He had deliberately stuck two whiskers above his mouth to make himself look older.
Klein smiled as he entered the billiard room and closed the door in passing.
“Long time no see.”
He was initially surprised that Ian had appeared here and had become a black-market arms dealer, but then he thought of the details behind the matter and found that it made sense.
Klein being able to come to the Bravehearts Bar and find Kaspars Kalinin was all thanks to Ian’s introduction.
This teenage boy definitely had some connections around here!
“Yeah.” Ian wiped away his shocked expression and mumbled, “I went to Pritz Harbor for two months and found those guys to be so savage and cruel. They didn’t even have the slightest bit of modesty or love for children, so I had no choice but to return to Backlund and do what I was good at. When Kaspars died, I decided to switch careers.”
Before Klein could say anything, he added, “Mr. Detective, I’ve always kept in mind that I still owe you two requests.”
“Yes,” Ian answered very calmly. “What do you want to know? It’s free.”
Without a trace of politeness, he straightened his body and said, “Recently, everyone has been looking for the believers of The Fool. There are many bounties available. What news do you have?”
Ian thought for a moment and said, “Nothing.
“I even suspect whether The Fool has any believers since no one can find any clues.”
Ian didn’t directly answer; he surveyed his surroundings and lowered his voice.
“MI9.”
Ian spread his hands.
“I’m not sure about that.
“But you can provide only clues.”
“Good suggestion.” Without asking any more questions, Klein spent five soli, replenished some of his ordinary ammunition, and left the Bravehearts Bar.
He got on the rental carriage and looked out the window at the gloomy weather. Suddenly, he felt a little wistful.
As he was sighing silently, an ethereal voice suddenly sounded in his ears.
“Is there something?”
Klein instantly shuddered, and only when he saw who was sitting in front of him did he heave a sigh of relief. He laughed in exasperation and said, “Miss Sharron, do you always appear all of a sudden like this?”
Dressed in a Gothic regal dress and a matching soft black hat, Sharron was sitting quietly on the other side of the carriage, her face as pale as ever.
“I’ll knock on the window next time.” Sharron nodded without emotion.
She didn’t repeat the question, but she looked quietly at Klein in a reserved manner.
“Yes,” Sharron said tersely.
Klein was slightly relieved as he warned her, “It could also be a trap.”
As he said this, he remembered something and quickly added, “I’ve finished reading the Book of Secrets, and I’ve obtained the corresponding information from other sources that praying to the Primordial Moon is prone to problems. It’s best not to try.”
“Alright.” Sharron didn’t ask why.
She paused for a second and said in an ethereal voice, “The Primordial Moon and the Chained God seem to be archenemies.”
“Miss Sharron, do you know of any places with the characteristic of a Human-skinned Shadow?”
Like a puppet, Sharron listened quietly before nodding her head.
“Yes.”
