Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 10 Normalcy

"Who?"

As Klein was thinking about the original owner's mysterious suicide and the unknown dangers he might have encountered, he heard a sudden knock on the door. He instinctively opened the drawer, took out the revolver, and asked warily.

There was a two-second silence outside the door, then a slightly high-pitched voice called out in an Akhova accent:

"I am Mountbatten, Beach Mountbatten."

The voice paused for a moment, then added:

"police."

Beach Mountbatten… As soon as the name entered his ears, Klein immediately thought of its owner.

He was one of the police officers in charge of the neighborhood where the apartment was located. He was a rude, barbaric man who loved to use his fists. However, perhaps only someone like him could keep those drunkards, thieves, part-time thieves, villains, and hooligans in check.

His unique voice is one of his trademarks.

"Okay, I'm coming right away!" Klein shouted back.

He had intended to throw the revolver back into the drawer, but then he remembered that the police outside might be there for some reason and might conduct a search, so he carefully ran to the stove, where the embers had long since died down, and put the pistol inside.

Immediately afterwards, he picked up the small basket of coal, shook a few pieces into the furnace, covered the gun with it, and finally placed the kettle on top to cover everything.

Having done all this, he straightened his clothes, quickly approached the door, and mumbled as he opened it:

"Sorry, I was taking a nap."

Four policemen stood outside the door, dressed in black uniforms with white checks and wearing soft caps with badges. Beach Mountbatten, with his brown beard, coughed and said to Klein:

"These three officers have something to ask you."

Officer? Klein instinctively glanced at the epaulets of the other three men and noticed that two of them had three silver six-pointed stars and one had two, all of which looked more prestigious than Beach Mountbatten's three V-shaped tags.

As a history student, Klein didn't know much about police epaulettes and only knew that Beach Mountbatten often boasted that he was a senior sheriff.

So, those three are inspectors? Influenced by his older brother Benson and classmates like Welch, Klein still knew a little common sense. He stepped aside and pointed into the room, saying:

"Please come in. What can I do for you?"

The leader of the three officers was a middle-aged man with sharp, almost piercing gazes that seemed to see right through you, inspiring a sense of dread. He had prominent wrinkles around his eyes, and light brown hair peeked out from under his hat. As he surveyed the room, he asked in a deep voice:

"You know Welch McGovern, right?"

"What's wrong with him?" Klein's heart skipped a beat, and he blurted out the question.

"I'm asking you a question." The stern-looking middle-aged police officer's eyes were menacing.

The officer next to him, also wearing three-star epaulets, looked at Klein and smiled gently:

"Don't be nervous, we're just asking routine questions."

The police officer was around thirty years old, with a high nose bridge and gray eyes that gave him an indescribable depth, like a deserted lake in an ancient forest.

Klein took a deep breath and organized his thoughts as he spoke:

"If you are referring to Welch McGovern, a graduate of Hoy University from Constance, then I am certain we know each other. We were classmates and studied under the same advisor, Senior Associate Professor Quentin Cohen."

In the Kingdom of Rune, "professor" is not just a title, but also a position, just like the combination of professor and department head on Earth. That is to say, a university and a department can only have one professor. If an associate professor wants to become a full professor, he can only wait for his immediate supervisor to retire, or he can squeeze the other out by his own merits.

In view of the need to retain talent, after years of exploration, the Kingdom's Higher Education Commission has added senior associate professors to the three-tier system of lecturers, associate professors, and professors, to be given to gentlemen and ladies who have high academic level or sufficient seniority but cannot become professors.

At this point, Klein looked into the middle-aged police officer's eyes, considered for a second, and said:

"To be honest, our relationship is pretty good. Lately, he, Naya, and I have been meeting frequently to interpret and discuss the 'Quaternary' documents he obtained, including a notebook. Officer, what happened to him?"

The middle-aged police officer did not answer, but instead glanced at his gray-eyed companion.

The officer, wearing a badge and a soft cap, with ordinary features and grey eyes, answered gently:

"I'm sorry, Mr. Welch has passed away."

"How could this be?" Although he had a premonition, Klein couldn't help but exclaim in astonishment.

Did Welch also die, just like the original owner of the body?

This is a bit scary!

"What about Naya?" Klein hurriedly asked.

"Ms. Naya has also passed away," the gray-eyed officer said calmly. "They both died at Mr. Welch's residence."

"Murdered?" Klein had a vague guess.

Perhaps it was suicide...

The gray-eyed officer shook his head:

"No, judging from the traces at the scene, they committed suicide. Mr. Welch banged his head against the wall many times, leaving the wall covered in blood. Ms. Naya drowned herself in a basin of water, the kind used for washing one's face."

"This is impossible..." Klein's hair stood on end as he listened, as if he could imagine the bizarre scene.

The girl knelt on the chair, burying her face in a basin full of water. Her soft brown hair cascaded down, swaying in the wind, but she remained motionless. Welch lay on the ground, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, his forehead completely shattered and covered in blood, while the walls bore numerous impact marks, dripping with blood…

The gray-eyed officer's lips twitched slightly as he said:

"We thought so too, but the autopsy results and the scene conditions ruled out factors such as drugs and external forces. They, I mean Mr. Welch and Ms. Naya, showed no signs of resistance."

Before Klein could speak again, he stepped into the room and asked casually:

When was the last time you saw Mr. Welch or Ms. Naya?

As he spoke, he gestured with his eyes to his companion who had two silver stars.

He was a young police officer, about the same age as Klein, with black sideburns and green eyes. He was good-looking and had a poet's romantic air about him.

Upon hearing the question, Klein's mind raced as he pondered his answer:

"It should be June 26th. We studied a new set of notes together. After that, I went home to prepare for the interview on the 30th, the History Department interview at the University of Tingen."

Tingen is known as the city of universities, with two universities, Tingen and Hoy, as well as technical schools, a bar school, and a business school, second only to the capital, Backlund.

He had barely finished speaking when he caught a glimpse of the young police officer walking to the desk and picking up the "notebook" that looked more like a diary.

"Oh no! I forgot to hide it!" Klein shouted sharply, "You!"

The young officer smiled back at him, but didn't stop flipping through his notes, while the gray-eyed officer explained:

"This is a necessary procedure."

At this point, both Beech Mountbatten and the imposing middle-aged police officer simply watched from the sidelines, offering no comment or assistance with the search.

"Where is your search warrant?" Klein had intended to ask this question, but after thinking about it carefully, he realized that the judicial system of the Kingdom of Rune did not seem to have evolved to include search warrants. At least he didn't know if they existed, since even the police force had only been established for fifteen or sixteen years.

When the original owner was a child, he was called a sheriff.

Klein was powerless to stop him and could only watch as the young officer quickly flipped through "his own notes," while the gray-eyed officer did not ask any more questions.

"What strange thing?" the young police officer suddenly asked, having flipped to the very end. "And what does this sentence mean? 'Everyone will die, including me'..."

Isn't it common sense that everyone dies except for gods? Klein was about to make a sophistry, but then he suddenly realized that he had originally planned to "connect" with the police to guard against potential dangers, but he was just struggling to find a reason or excuse.

In less than a second, he made his decision, covered his forehead with his hand, and answered with a pained tone:

"I don't know, I really don't know... When I woke up this morning, I felt like something was wrong with me, like I had forgotten some things, especially the things that happened in the last few days, and I don't even know why I wrote this sentence."

Sometimes, honesty is the best way to solve problems. Of course, honesty requires skill. Knowing what to say and what not to say is one aspect, but knowing which to say first and which to say later, and how to say it, is another.

As a "keyboard" expert, Klein has also studied some rhetoric.

"Ridiculous! Do you think we're fools?" Beach Mountbatten interrupted angrily, unable to hold back any longer.

This lie is so clumsy, it's an insult to our intelligence!

Pretending to be mentally ill is better than pretending to have amnesia!

"Really." Klein responded frankly to Mountbatten and the middle-aged police officer's gazes.

This couldn't be more true.

"Perhaps it really is possible." At this moment, the gray-eyed police officer spoke slowly.

What? You believed that? Klein himself was surprised.

The gray-eyed police officer smiled and looked at him, saying:

"An expert will be coming in a couple of days. Trust me, she should be able to help you recall your lost memories."

An expert? Someone who helps with recall? Someone in the field of psychology? Klein frowned.

Ouch, what if this triggers my memories of Earth? He suddenly felt a toothache.

The young officer put down his notebook and searched the desk and room. Fortunately, he focused on the books and didn't pick up the kettle to look at it.

"Alright, Mr. Klein, thank you for your cooperation. You'd better not leave Tingen for the next few days. If necessary, please notify Officer Mountbatten, otherwise you will become a fugitive," the grey-eyed officer concluded.

Is that it? Is today over? No more questions, no more investigation? Or will you take me back to the police station for torture? Klein was bewildered.

However, he also wanted to resolve the strange events brought about by Welch, so he nodded and said:

"no problem."

The officers left the room one by one, and the young man at the end suddenly patted Klein on the shoulder:

"That's great, I'm so lucky."

"What?" Klein looked confused.

The green-eyed police officer, with a poet's air about him, smiled slightly and said:

"Generally speaking, it is common for all those involved to die in such incidents."

"We are so happy and fortunate to see that you are still alive."

After saying that, he walked out of the room and politely closed the door behind him.

Is it normal for everyone to die? Am I glad I'm still alive? Am I lucky to be alive?

On that June afternoon, Klein felt a chill run through his body.

(End of this chapter)