Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 16 A Dog Catching a Mouse

Phew, finally got past the psychic...

Klein exhaled a breath of stale air, slowly turned around, and strolled towards the apartment door, enjoying the tranquility of the night and the refreshing breeze.

He took out the key, inserted it, and gently twisted it, allowing the crimson-tinged black to expand with a creaking sound.

Walking up the deserted stairs, breathing in the cold air, Klein inexplicably felt as if he had several extra hours of life compared to others, to the point that his steps became lighter.

With a similar mindset, he opened his own door, but before he could even step inside, he saw a figure sitting quietly in the darkness in front of his desk. Her black hair was bathed in red, her brown eyes were bright, and her face was delicate. It was none other than Melissa Moretti!

"Klein, where have you been?" Melissa asked, her brows unfurrowing in surprise.

Before Klein could answer, she added, as if to explain the cause and effect and the logical relationship of the matter clearly and plainly: "I just got up to go to the bathroom and found that you weren't home."

Klein, with his extensive experience in deceiving parents, quickly reassured himself and replied with a wry smile:

"After waking up once, I couldn't fall back asleep. Thinking that I might as well exercise instead of wasting time, I went out for a few laps. Look, I'm covered in sweat."

He took off his coat, turned halfway around, and pointed to his back.

Melissa stood up, glanced at him casually, and after a few seconds of deliberation, said:

"Klein, you don't need to feel too much pressure. You'll definitely pass the interview at the University of Tingen. And even if you don't, well, I mean if, you'll find someone better."

I hadn't even considered the interview... Klein nodded.

"I see."

He didn't mention that he had received an offer because he hadn't decided whether or not to accept it.

Melissa gave him a deep look, then suddenly turned around, jogged into the inner room, and took out a turtle-shaped object pieced together from gears, rusted iron, springs, and clockwork.

Melissa quickly wound up the spring and placed the item on the desk.

Click-click-click, tap-tap-tap, the "turtle" jumped and walked rhythmically, drawing people's attention to it involuntarily.

"When I feel annoyed, watching it move like this makes me feel much better. I've been doing this a lot lately, and it's very effective! Klein, you should try it," Melissa invited, her eyes bright.

Klein didn't refuse his sister's kindness. He leaned closer to look at the "turtle" and only laughed when it stopped.

"Simplicity and routine can indeed bring relaxation."

Before Melissa could speak again, he pointed to the "turtle" and casually asked:

"You made it yourself? When did you make it? How come I didn't know?"

"I made it using materials the school didn't want and things I found on the street. I only finished it two days ago." Melissa's expression remained normal, with a slight upturn at the corners of her mouth.

"That's amazing," Klein said sincerely.

As a boy with poor mechanical skills, he would struggle to assemble a four-wheel drive car when he was a child.

Melissa slightly raised her chin, her eyes crinkled slightly, and answered in a calm tone:

"It's alright, it's alright."

"Excessive modesty is a bad quality," Klein chuckled. "Is this a tortoise?"

The atmosphere in the room suddenly became heavy, and Melissa's voice, soft and delicate like a crimson veil, rang out:

"It's a doll."

Dolls...

...Klein gave an awkward smile and forced an explanation:

"The materials used are still too rudimentary."

He then changed the subject:

"Why would you go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? There's a toilet in there. And aren't you good at sleeping through the night?"

Melissa was stunned for a moment, and after a few seconds, she opened her mouth to explain.

Just then, a loud gurgling sound came from her chest and abdomen as she began to digest.

"I...I'm going back to sleep!"

Bang! She grabbed the turtle-shaped "doll," ran back to the inner room, and closed the door.

...Last night's dinner was too good, I ate too much, and my stomach isn't used to it... Klein shook his head and chuckled, slowly walked to his desk, silently sat down in the chair, and quietly pondered Dunn Smith's invitation under the crimson moon peeking out from behind the dark clouds.

The disadvantages of being a clerical worker in the night watch team are very obvious:

As a transmigrator and the initiator of the mysterious gathering, "The Fool" has many secrets of his own. He has been wandering around under the noses of the team from the Church of the Goddess of the Night that specializes in handling supernatural events, which is quite risky.

Once you join Dunn Smith and his group, your goal will definitely be to become an extraordinary person, in order to cover up the benefits you get from the "Gathering". As a full member, your freedom will definitely be restricted, just like how civilian staff have to report when leaving Tingen. You can't go wherever you want or do whatever you want, and you will miss many opportunities.

The night watchmen are a tightly organized group. Once a task is assigned, they can only wait for instructions and accept orders; they cannot refuse.

Extraordinary individuals carry the risk of spiraling out of control;

……

After listing the disadvantages one by one in his mind, Klein turned his attention to the necessity and the benefits:

Judging from his experiences with the "transfer ceremony," he is unlikely to be one of the 80% of lucky ones Dunn mentioned. Strange and dangerous events will inevitably befall him, and only by becoming an extraordinary person or joining the Night Watch will he have the ability to resist them.

To become an Extraordinary, "gatherings" alone are not enough. The potion recipe is not a problem, but where to find the corresponding materials, how to obtain them, how to concoct them, and the common sense of daily training for Extraordinary individuals are all serious obstacles for me. It is impossible to ask "Justice" and "The Hanged Man" about everything and exchange everything with them. This would not only damage the image of "The Fool" and make them suspicious, but I also don't have that much time to discuss such trivial matters. Similarly, I don't have anything to offer that would interest them.

In addition, more material exchanges will leave traces of real-world identities, and when that happens, "online disputes" will turn into "offline conflicts," which will be a big problem.

Joining the "Night Watchers" will inevitably grant access to common knowledge and relevant channels in the mysterious world, allowing them to accumulate enough connections. Using this as a fulcrum, they can leverage the "Gathering" to gain the greatest benefit from "Justice" and the "Hanged Man," which in turn improves their real-world situation, allowing them to acquire more resources and creating a virtuous cycle.

Of course, you could also try to join the "Psychological Alchemy Society" mentioned by Dunn, an organization that is suppressed and besieged by the major churches. However, becoming a member of them would also mean losing your freedom and living in constant fear. More importantly, you would not know where to find them. Even if you get the relevant information from the "Hanged Man," it would be life-threatening to make any rash contact.

Becoming a civilian employee offers opportunities for buffer and exit.

The lesser hermit hides in the wilderness, the middle hermit hides in the city, and the greater hermit hides in the court; perhaps the identity of a night watchman is a better form of camouflage.

When he becomes a high-ranking member of the arbitration tribunal in the future, who would have thought that he was a heretic and the mastermind behind a secret organization?

……

As dawn broke, the crimson faded, and gazing at the golden hue on the horizon, Klein made up his mind.

Go find Dunn Smith today and become a clerical worker for the Night Watch!

"You're not asleep?" At this moment, Melissa got up again, pushed open the door, and was surprised to see her brother stretching lazily without any decorum.

"Thinking about something," Klein said with a smile, looking relaxed.

Melissa hesitated for a moment and said:

"When I encounter a problem, I list out both the bad and good aspects one by one. After listing them, I compare them and get 'tips' on what to do."

"Good habit, I do the same thing," Klein replied with a smile.

Melissa looked relieved and said nothing more. She took the large, yellowed sheet of paper and toiletries and headed to the public restroom.

After breakfast and his sister left, Klein didn't rush out. He took a nap in a good mood, because as far as he knew, almost all taverns were closed in the morning.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, he used a small brush and a handkerchief to smooth out the wrinkles and dirt from his top hat, restoring it to its neat state. Then, dressed in a formal suit, he went out as if going to a job interview.

Besick Street was a bit far, and Klein was afraid of missing the night watchman's "working hours," so he didn't walk there but waited for the public carriage at the intersection of Iron Cross Street.

In the Kingdom of Rune, public carriages are divided into two types: trackless and tracked. The former is pulled by two horses and can seat about twenty people, including the top of the carriage. It only has a general route and no specific stops, and it operates flexibly, stopping whenever someone calls, unless it is full.

The latter, operated by a railcar company, first lays out a rail-like device on the main streets. Horses walk on the inside, and the wheels turn on top, making it easy and effortless to pull larger double-decker carriages that can carry nearly fifty passengers. The only problem is that the routes and stops are fixed, so it cannot go to many places and is rather inflexible.

About ten minutes later, the sound of wheels hitting the rails grew louder as a double-decker carriage stopped in front of the Iron Cross Street station.

"To Besik Street," Klein said to the coachman.

"You'll have to go to Champagne Street, but once you get there, it's only about a ten-minute walk to Besik Street," the driver explained regarding the route.

"Then let's go to Champagne Street." Klein nodded in agreement.

"It's over 4 kilometers, 4 pence," a fair-skinned young man next to the driver said, holding out his hand.

He was the staff member responsible for collecting money.

"Okay." Klein took out four copper pennies from his pocket and handed them to the other person.

He boarded the carriage and found that there weren't many passengers; even on the first floor, there were still several empty seats.

"I only have 3 pence left, I'll have to walk back..." Klein adjusted his hat and sat up straight.

On this floor, most of the men and women are dressed formally and sitting upright. Some are wearing work clothes and leisurely reading newspapers, but almost no one is talking, and it is quite quiet.

Klein closed his eyes to rest and recuperate, ignoring the passengers coming and going around him.

Station after station, he finally heard the words "Champagne Street".

After getting off the carriage, he asked around along the way and soon arrived at Besik Street, where he saw a tavern with a brown hound logo.

Klein stretched out his right hand and pushed hard. The heavy door slowly opened, and a cacophony of noise and a wave of sweltering heat rushed in.

Although it was still afternoon, the tavern was already quite full of customers. Some of them were temporary workers looking for opportunities and waiting to be hired, while others were just idling around, numbing themselves with alcohol.

The tavern was quite dark, with two large iron cages standing in the center, the bottom third of which went deep into the ground without any gaps. People held wooden wine cups and gathered around them, sometimes discussing loudly, sometimes cursing and laughing.

Klein glanced inside curiously and found two dogs: one black and white, resembling a husky from Earth, and the other jet black, with glossy fur, strong and fierce.

"Want to place a bet? Doug's won eight straight lately!" A short man wearing a brown beanie approached and pointed at the black dog.

Betting? Klein was taken aback at first, then realized:

"Dog fighting?"

At Hoy University, those aristocratic students and rich kids would always ask themselves with disdain and curiosity whether the rude workers and unemployed hooligans liked to participate in boxing and gambling in pubs? Besides boxing and cards, did the gambling activities also include cruel and bloody events like cockfighting and dogfighting?

The short man sneered:

"Sir, we are civilized people and would not do such an unseemly thing."

At this point, he muttered under his breath, "And last year a law was passed that prohibited these things..."

"So what are you betting on?" Klein asked curiously.

"Let's see who the best 'hunter' is." As soon as the short man finished speaking, a commotion broke out in the arena.

He turned and glanced at it, then waved his hand excitedly:

"This round has started, you can't place bets now, you'll have to wait for the next round."

Upon hearing this, Klein stood on tiptoe, raised his head, and looked out. He saw two burly men, each dragging a sack, come to the iron cage, open the "cell door," and dump the contents inside.

Those were gray, disgusting animals!

Klein examined them closely and discovered that they were rats, dozens or even hundreds of rats!

Because the iron cage extends deep into the ground with no gaps, the rats scurried about but could not escape.

At this moment, as the cage door closed, the chains on the two dogs were unchained.

"Woof!" The black dog pounced and killed a mouse in one bite.

The black and white dog was initially bewildered, but then excitedly started playing with the mice.

People around were either holding up their glasses, staring intently, or shouting loudly:

"Bite it to death! Dry it to death!"

"Dog! Dog!"

...What the hell is this, a dog catching a mouse... Klein realized, his lips twitching uncontrollably.

The gambling game here is actually about betting on which dog catches more mice...

Perhaps we can bet on a specific number of them...

No wonder there are always people buying live rats around Iron Cross Street...

That's really unique...

Klein shook his head, amused, and stepped back, skirting around the huddled group of drinkers to the front of the bar.

"A new face?" The bartender glanced up at him as he wiped the glasses. "Rye beer is 1 penny a glass, Enmartene beer is 2 pennies, South Wales beer is 4 pennies, or would you like a Ronzi, a pure malt brew?"

"I'm looking for Mr. Wright," Klein said directly.

The bartender whistled and called out to the person next to him:

"Old man, someone is looking for you."

"Hmm, who is it..." A muffled voice came out, and a drunken old man stood up from behind the bar.

He rubbed his eyes and looked at Klein, saying:

"Young man, you were looking for me?"

"Mr. Wright, I'd like to hire a mercenary squad for a mission," Klein replied, following Dunn's instructions.

"Mercenary squads? Are you living in an adventure story? Those things don't exist anymore!" the bartender interjected with a laugh.

Wright paused for a few seconds and then said:

"Who told you to come here to look for it?"

"Dunne, Dunn Smith," Klein answered truthfully.

Wright chuckled immediately:

"I understand. Actually... mercenary teams still exist, just in a different form, with a name that's more in line with modern society. You can find one on the second floor of 36 Zotland Street."

"Thank you," Klein said sincerely, then turned and squeezed out of the bar.

Just before he left, the group of drinkers suddenly fell silent, leaving only a murmur:

"Doug actually lost..."

"We lost..."

Klein chuckled and shook his head, then quickly left, asking for directions to nearby Zotland Street.

"30, 32, 34... here." He counted the door numbers and walked into the stairwell.

Rounding the corner and climbing the steps, he saw a vertical sign, revealing the current name of the so-called mercenary team:

"Blackthorn Security Company".

(End of this chapter)