Lord of Mysteries

Chapter 20 Forgetful Dunn (Third Update, Please Vote)

"Okay." Klein bowed slightly, took off his top hat and put it back on, his mind more focused on imagining what the sealed artifact "0-08" looked like.

A seemingly ordinary quill pen?

Writing doesn't require ink?

So what is its true purpose? Why is it kept so secret and considered "extremely dangerous"?

Could it be a causal pen that writes about who dies as a result?

No, that's too outrageous. Ince Zangwell wouldn't need to go on the run...

Just as Klein turned to leave, Dunn Smith suddenly called out to him from behind:

"Wait a minute, I forgot something."

"What?" Klein turned around, his eyes full of confusion.

Dunn put his pocket watch away, smiled, and said:

"Remember to find Mrs. Orianna, the accountant, and get an advance of four weeks' wages, which is £12 in total. After that, you will only receive half of your wages each week until the debt is fully repaid."

"That's too much, there's no need for that, we can use less," Klein said instinctively.

He didn't object to the advance payment, since he didn't even have enough money for the public carriage back home. But receiving a huge sum of 12 pounds at once still frightened him.

"No, it's necessary." Dunn shook his head and smiled. "Think about it, would you still want to continue living in your current apartment? You even have to share a bathroom with several other households. Even if you don't consider yourself, you have to consider the ladies, and besides..."

Seeing Klein nod in agreement, he paused, smiled, and glanced at the other man's clothing a few times before saying meaningfully:

"And you'll need a cane, and you'll have to buy a proper suit again."

Klein paused for a second, then realized what was happening, and his face flushed slightly because he was wearing a cheap outfit.

Normally, a top hat should be made of silk and cost 5 to 6 sous, a bow tie 3 sous, a silver-plated cane 7 to 8 sous, a shirt 3 sous, trousers, a waistcoat and a tailcoat for around 7 pounds, and leather boots 9 to 10 sous. This whole outfit would cost more than 8 pounds 7 sous. Of course, a decent gentleman would also need a watch chain, a pocket watch and a wallet.

Back then, the original owner and her brother Benson saved up some money by living frugally. They went to a clothing store to inquire about the price, but they didn't even dare to bargain and left in a sorry state. Instead, they bought a set of clothes for less than two pounds in total at a cheap store near Iron Cross Street.

Because of this incident, the original owner had an extremely strong impression of clothing prices.

"Okay, okay," Klein replied, slightly stuttering.

Like the original owner, he was a person who cared about his reputation.

Dunn then took out his pocket watch, opened it, glanced at it, and said:

"Or you could go find Mrs. Oriana first? I don't know how long you'll be staying with Old Neil. Mrs. Oriana will be going home soon."

"Okay." Klein, feeling deeply impoverished, did not object.

Dunn walked back to the table and tugged at one of the hanging ropes, saying:

"I'll have Rosanne take you there."

As the ropes moved and the gears turned, Rosanne, who was in the reception hall of "Blackthorn Security Company," heard the soft ringing of the bell hanging beside her and quickly stood up and carefully went downstairs.

Not long after, she appeared in front of Klein.

Dunn Smith chuckled humorously:

"Did I disturb your rest? Hmm, take Moretti to Mrs. Oriana."

Rosanne subtly pursed her lips and replied "happily":

"Yes, Captain."

"That's it?" Klein blurted out in surprise.

To get an advance on salary from the "Finance" department, do I need you, the team leader, to write a note or anything?

"So?" Dunn asked, puzzled.

"I mean, do I need your signature to get an advance on my salary from Mrs. Oriana?" Klein asked, using the simplest of words possible.

"Oh no, no need, Rosanne can vouch for me," Dunn Smith replied, pointing to the brown-haired girl.

Captain, there's practically no management of our "financial affairs" here... Klein suppressed the urge to complain and followed Rosanne as they turned and left the room.

Just then, he heard Dunn shout again:

"Wait a minute, there's something else."

Can we finish what we're saying all at once? Klein turned around with a smile and said:

"Please speak."

Dunn pressed his temples:

"When you go to Old Neil's place, remember to collect ten 'Demon Hunter Bullets'."

"Me? Demon Hunter Bullet?" Klein asked in surprise.

"Isn't Welch's revolver with you? You don't need to hand it over." Dunn said, one hand in his pocket. "With the 'Demon Hunter Bullets,' you can protect yourself if you encounter any strange dangers. Well, at least it can give you courage."

No need to add the last half-sentence... Klein was preoccupied with this very matter, and answered without hesitation:

"Okay, I'll remember that!"

"This requires me to write a formal document. Please wait a moment." Dunn Smith sat down, picked up a dark red fountain pen, quickly wrote a "note," signed it, and stamped it.

"Thank you, Captain." Klein accepted the gift sincerely.

He slowly stepped back and then turned around again.

"etc."

Dunn shouted again.

"...Captain, you look to be only in your thirties, how come you show signs of premature aging?" Klein forced a smile and turned to ask.

"Is there anything else?"

"I forgot to mention, you haven't practiced shooting, so having 'Demon Hunter Bullets' won't be very useful. Here's what you'll do: take thirty more rounds of regular ammunition every day and practice at the underground shooting range at 3 Zotland Street whenever you're out. Most of the area belongs to the police department, but there's a section reserved for us Night Watchers. Oh, and you'll also need to get a badge from Old Neil, otherwise you won't be able to get into the range." Dunn slapped his forehead, took the "stamp" back from Klein, quickly added other details, and stamped it.

"Good gunmen are made by being fed bullets, don't underestimate them." Dunn handed the revised "note" back to Klein.

"I understand." Klein, fearing the danger, wished he could go today.

He took two steps outside, then suddenly turned slightly, cautiously considering his words:

"Captain, is there anything else?"

"That's all." Dunn nodded firmly.

Klein breathed a sigh of relief and walked all the way to the door, almost turning back to ask, "Really, that's all?"

He resisted the urge and finally "successfully" left the "duty room".

"The captain's always like that, he's always forgetting things," Rosanne whispered, walking beside him. "Even my grandma has a better memory than him. Of course, he only forgets small things, um, small things. Klein, I'll call you Klein from now on. Mrs. Orianna is a kind person, very easy to get along with. Her father is a watchmaker, very skilled..."

Listening to the brown-haired girl's rambling chatter, Klein stepped onto the stairs, returned to the upper floor, and met Mrs. Orianna in the outermost office on the right.

This is a black-haired woman wearing a long ruffled dress. She looks to be in her thirties, with fashionable curly hair and clear, smiling emerald green eyes. She is delicate and elegant.

After hearing Rosanne relay Dunn Smith's arrangements, Oriana took out a notepad and wrote down an advance payment request:

"Sign here. Do you have a seal? If not, just put your fingerprint on it."

"Okay." Klein completed the formalities with practiced ease.

Orianna took out a brass key, opened the safe inside the room, and while counting the gold pounds, smiled and said:

"You're lucky to have enough cash today. By the way, Klein, was the captain invited because you're involved in some supernatural event and have special skills?"

"Yes, madam, your intuition is very accurate." Klein didn't hold back his praise.

Orianna took out four banknotes with a light gray background and dark black patterns, locked the safe again, and smiled as she turned around:

"Because I am the same way."

"Really?" Klein appropriately expressed his surprise.

"Do you know the serial killer who shocked the entire city of Tingen sixteen years ago?" Orianna handed four gold pounds to Klein.

"...I remember! The 'bloody butcher' who killed five girls, taking their hearts from some and their stomachs from others? When we were little, my mother often used this to scare my sister." Klein said after a moment's thought.

He took the banknotes and found that they were two 5-pound notes and two 1-pound notes, all with a gray background and black patterns, and intricate designs and special watermarks at the four corners to prevent counterfeiting.

The former is slightly larger, with Henry Augustus I, the fifth king of the Kingdom of Loen and a direct ancestor of George III, in the center. He wears a white wig, has a round face, narrow eyes, and an unusually serious expression, but in Klein's eyes, he feels an inexplicable sense of closeness.

That's a £5 note!

That's equivalent to almost four weeks' worth of Benson's salary!

The central figure on the £1 note is William Augustus VI, the father of George III and the former king. This "powerful man" has a thick beard and a resolute gaze. During his reign, the Kingdom of Loen broke free from its old constraints and once again rose to the top of the nations.

These are all "good kings"... Klein could vaguely smell the intoxicating scent of banknote ink.

"Yes, if the night watchmen hadn't arrived in time, I would have been the sixth victim." Mrs. Oriana's tone still carried a hint of lingering fear, even though more than a decade had passed since the incident.

"It sounds like that serial killer, no, butcher, is an Extraordinary?" Klein carefully folded the banknotes, put them in the inside pocket of his suit jacket, and then felt around the area a few times to confirm.

"Yes," Mrs. Orianna nodded heavily. "He had killed many people before. The reason he was caught that time was because he was preparing a demonic ritual."

"No wonder different internal organs are needed... I'm sorry, ma'am, for reminding you of something unpleasant," Klein said sincerely.

Oriana chuckled, "I'm not afraid anymore... I was studying accounting at business school back then, and then I came here. Okay, I won't keep you any longer, you still have to go see Old Neil."

"Goodbye, madam." Klein removed his hat, bowed, and left the office. Before going down the stairs, he couldn't help but touch his inside pocket to make sure the 12-pound note was still there.

He turned at the intersection and went to the right. Soon he saw a half-closed iron gate.

Boom, boom, boom.

Amid the knocking, an aged voice came from inside:

"Come in."

Klein pushed open the iron door and found that it was a narrow room that could only fit a table and two chairs.

On the other side of the room, there was a tightly locked iron door, and behind the table, an elderly man with gray hair, dressed in a classic black robe, was reading a few yellowed pages by the light of a gas lamp.

He looked up at the doorway and said:

"You must be Klein Moretti? Little Rosen just came over and said you were very polite."

"Miss Rosanne is a very friendly person. Good afternoon, Mr. Neil," Klein said, tipping his hat in greeting.

"Have a seat," Neil said, gesturing to the intricately patterned, silver-inlaid tin can on the table. "Would you like a cup of hand-drip coffee?"

The wrinkles around his eyes and mouth were deep, and his dark red eyes were slightly cloudy.

"You don't seem to have drunk anything?" Klein noticed that Neil's ceramic cup contained only water.

"Haha, that's my habit. I don't drink coffee after 3 p.m.," Neil explained with a laugh.

"Why?" Klein asked casually.

Neil looked into Klein's eyes with a smile and said:

"I'm afraid I won't sleep well at night, because then I might hear some strange whispers."

...Klein was momentarily at a loss for words, so he asked instead:

"Mr. Neil, what documents and classics should I read?"

As he spoke, he took out the "note" written by Dunn Smith.

"It's all related to history, complicated and fragmented. To be honest, I've been trying to learn it, but I can only grasp the basics. The rest is too troublesome, like people's diaries from that time, popular books, epitaphs, and so on," Neil complained. "For example, the ones I have on hand require more detailed historical records to deduce the specific content."

"Why?" Klein was a little confused.

Neil pointed to the few yellowed pages in front of him and said:

"This is Russell Gustave's lost diary before his death. To keep it secret, he used strange symbols he invented to record things."

Emperor Roselle? A time-traveling predecessor? Klein was stunned for a moment, then listened attentively.

"Because many people believe that he did not truly die, but became a hidden deity, there have always been cultists who worship him and perform various rituals in an attempt to gain power. We occasionally encounter such things and obtain a few original or copied notes," Neil said, shaking his head. "To this day, no one has been able to decipher the true meaning of those special symbols, so the 'Sanctuary' allows us to keep copies for research, hoping for unexpected surprises."

At this point, Neil revealed a smug smile:

"I've deciphered several of the symbols and confirmed that they represent numbers. Look what I've discovered—it's actually a diary! Hmm, I hope to compare historical events from different dates, especially those involving the emperor, with the entries in the diary for the corresponding days to decipher even more symbols."

"A brilliant idea, isn't it?" The old gentleman with gray hair and deep wrinkles looked at Klein with shining eyes.

Klein nodded in agreement:

"Yes."

"Haha, you can take a look too. You'll have to start helping me with this tomorrow." Old Mr. Neil pushed the few yellowed pages of the book towards Klein.

Klein turned them right side up, glanced at them, and froze!

Although those "symbols" were poorly copied and slightly distorted, I would never mistake them for anything else...

Because this is the language I am most familiar with:

Chinese!

TM is still in simplified Chinese!

P.S.: Please vote for this post!

(End of this chapter)