After changing his face and turning into one of the two main streets, Klein went straight to the green mailbox and took out a letter he had prepared long ago from his pocket.
This was a “death notice” he had forged as an imitation of an official police document. It was sent to the sergeant of the town of Symeem Harbor. It was about the sudden death of the local resident, Wendt, in Bayam.
When deciding to do the acting, Klein had worked out a plan to keep things on track and not cause irreparable damage to the girl, Raine.
His plan was to use the Slumber Charm to camouflage the real acting as a dream, this way, if Raine had no love for Wendt, he expected her to directly reject his confession. After hearing about the other party’s death, she wouldn’t feel any guilt, and at most some fear. In response to this, she could effectively be placated by going to church to pray and confess.
If Raine also liked Wendt and responded to the confession, then the dream would give Klein a chance to extricate himself from the situation. The notification of Wendt’s death would kill Raine’s expectations, and it wouldn’t have too negative an impact on her future life.
Along the way, he summed up his previous experience, which was that “disguising yourself as someone else and obtaining feedback” was likely a main clause of the Faceless principles, second only to “you can disguise yourself into anyone, but you are ultimately yourself.”
Suppressing his thoughts, Klein stepped into the inn and said to the boss behind the counter, “An ordinary room.”
The thin boss looked up and gave a glance, saying, “A valid ID certificate.”
“I forgot to bring it.”
“Then you cannot stay here. This is the rule of our town.” The boss once again lowered his head and calculated his income and expenditure for the day.
Klein took out a soli note and pushed it over as if nothing had happened.
The boss’s eyes suddenly widened.
“No, no, put it away! I don’t want to be locked up by the sergeant!
“Get out, get out, you dirty bastard with no proof of identity.”
Klein was thrown out of the inn in shock, unable to believe that the omnipotent entity known as money had just lost its power.
After a few seconds of silence, he turned into an empty alleyway, turning back into Gehrman Sparrow with stark facial features.
Klein returned to the inn, tapped on the counter, and said Loenese in a Backlund accent, “A room.”
The boss looked up and immediately put down the things in his hand. He then stood up and nodded with a smile.
“Okay, okay.
“Do you need a room with a view of the sea, or something quieter?”
He switched to a clumsy Loenese that had a thick accent that resembled that of the land of spices, with no further mention of identification.
“Yes, yes, immediately,” the boss responded hurriedly.
Then he called an attendant, took the keys, and led Klein personally to the second floor.
“Sir, how many days will you be staying? It’s 1 soli 5 pence a night. ”
“Just tonight,” Klein couldn’t stand the enthusiasm, so he answered succinctly.
At the Wind of Azure Inn, his luxurious suite with Danitz was five soli a night.
Without a doubt, the room the boss had chosen was clean and tidy, and there was no trace of the usual humidity in a harbor inn. Klein looked around and nodded in satisfaction.
“Excellent.”
“It’s my honor,” the boss flattered with obvious fear.
Klein put down his luggage, rested for a while, then he got up and went back down to the ground floor to settle his dinner.
Beside the counter, tables were arranged messily on the first floor. There was a greasy layer on their surface, and a fireplace was burning in the corner, giving off light and heat.
The Rorsted Archipelago was slightly to the south, and the lowest temperatures in winter was only about 10°C. However, for the locals, this was still cold enough that they needed a fire to warm them up.
Klein randomly found a seat and sat down, ordering a local specialty of grilled meat and spiced mushroom soup, with the main dish being potato bread.
While he was waiting, he swept his gaze over the customers inside the restaurant. His gaze then instinctively landed on a lady.
This lady had a head of simple tied up black hair and a pair of distinctive greenish-gray eyes. Her appearance was the type that one would never get sick off easily, and the more he looked at her, the more intrigued he became.
She was obviously not a native, but she was wearing a man’s shirt and a thick tan jacket. By her hand was a round-brimmed hat with a depression in the middle.
This was one of the more common adventurer outfits out in the sea. At her table, the three other men were the same, and they clearly appeared to have been exposed to the elements.
Klein had never hid his appreciation of beautiful ladies, but his attention wasn’t drawn to her by her appearance.
The sea had a strong sense of discrimination against females. Women who could achieve a certain status among adventurers and pirates were either very scheming, very powerful, or both. They were people that one needed to be cautious and wary about!
If these four adventurers came by ferry from Bayam, even if they had previously stepped on sewage or mud, the traces would’ve already dried up. Furthermore, as the town hadn’t rained in the past two days, overall, the roads were quite clean with only some dust. Eliminating the two possibilities, it could only be explained that they had returned from a trip to the woods on the outskirts of the town.
Klein had heard that many adventurers went deep into the primitive forests of the colonial islands in search of abandoned, forgotten pagan temples or altars, which often contained gold and jewels of ancient worship, but were later buried for various reasons in a place that no one knew of. In the bars of the islands, there was no shortage of legends that someone had managed to make a fortune overnight on an adventure into the woods.
The seven Churches classified the various gods believed by the colony’s primitive faiths as evil spirits, but Klein believed that some of them were natural spirits.
After a while, the specialty grilled meat was served. It had been sliced into many smaller pieces and strung onto a wooden stick. The surface was smeared with a reddish-brown sauce. The fragrance was rich and the color was alluring.
Klein enjoyed the meal and even tasted the local “Gurney Sap,” a special beverage, like lemonade with sugar and milk.
He went back to his room. Because he had been hunting the night before, he hadn’t slept at all. He washed up early, put out the fireplace, and got into bed. Sleeping too early meant one problem—he would wake up in the middle of the night to pee.
Klein’s dream was interrupted. He opened his eyes and slowly accumulated the courage to lift his quilt.
In the middle of the night, Symeem was about 8–9°C, and it was enough to make it feel sufficiently cold.
After lying still for a while, Klein stretched out his arm and silently withdrew it.
He contemplated for a few seconds before reaching out his hand again and picking up the Sun Brooch from his bedside table.
Although it only provided the feeling of a hot summer on a spiritual level, and it didn’t produce any actual heat, it could at least deceive himself into thinking that it wasn’t cold.
Klein got out of bed and headed for the washroom.
He narrowed his eyes to ease the pressure on his lower abdomen.
When he was done, he pulled up his pants and was about to wash his hands when his spiritual perception was triggered.
Klein frowned slightly and looked up at the vent in the bathroom.
Suddenly, something black and slippery dropped and hung there.
It was a venomous snake extending its forked tongue!
Klein was startled. He opened his mouth and shouted, “Bang!”
The snake was miserably hit, and it split in half.
