Mystery: Starting with the Night Pope.

Chapter 257 Sherlock, do you know Watson?

After Klein finished the tarot session, he copied down those few extremely "secret" pages of the diary from memory.

"I have no blasphemy against the 'Supreme Dream,' I have no interest in Roselle's love affairs, I simply hold reverence for secret knowledge."

Klein solemnly performed a ritual, offering these few pages of paper as a sacrifice upon the gray fog.

Of course, putting aside those "secrets," he felt that these few pages of the diary were still very valuable and worth keeping.

Klein cleaned up the traces, lay on the sofa in a daze, waiting for his spirituality to return. About half an hour later, his inspiration suddenly struck, and he looked at the glass of the bay window.

There was a woman wearing a black court dress reflected in one of the glass panes.

Klein froze, took a few steps back, but felt no danger.

The woman in his eyes wore a small black soft hat, lifted her skirt, and bowed slightly to Klein.

"No malice intended..." Klein confirmed this, and the next moment, the woman took out a gold coin.

Gold coins? This style? Are they the legendary gold coins from the Solomon Empire? And the oldest version at that, extremely valuable!

Ahem! Klein quickly pulled his thoughts back, and then he heard the doorbell of the firm ring.

The elegantly dressed young lady inside the window had also disappeared.

Klein checked the revolver that was only allowed in, making sure it was ready to be drawn at any moment, and then opened the door.

He saw a man and a woman, two extraordinary beings.

Why does this man's eyes hold such deep malice, like a "demon," yet so much more restrained...?

"Welcome, this is the Sherlock Detective Agency." Klein smiled and invited the two inside, pouring them two cups of Marquis black tea.

"I am Marich, and she is Sharon. The Dream Archbishop sent us to find you," said the man in the black vest.

A fantasy? That must be Bishop Truman… Klein nodded slightly. “Hello, I am Sherlock Moriarty.”

"So, is there anything you can help with?"

Marich stared at Klein with eyes that held a deep malice. "We have nowhere to live."

Klein: ...

Is it really that direct?

"I can handle this." Klein nodded slightly; there was still plenty of money left for the event.

"We're being hunted down by the libertines of the Rose School," Miss Sharon said, her blue eyes fixed on Klein.

"Uh..." Klein was caught off guard again.

"The Rose School? The Libertarians?" Klein recalled the name; he had seen it in the materials Bishop Truman had given him.

Another evil cult... Klein found himself completely unmoved.

Is this really something that someone like him, a Sequence Eight, could access? Bishop Truman felt that if it was, then it was.

Klein had already given up the struggle.

"If anything happens, please let me know. I can't handle it right now, but there will always be someone who can," he solemnly promised.

"Okay!" Marich nodded slightly.

Afterwards, Klein called Leonard over and asked him to handle the accommodation problem for Maric and Sharon.

"Are you going to see Mr. A?" Leonard knew about Klein's arrangements.

"Yes, the information from the last 'demon' attack might be of some value; it might be able to help me gather the materials for my promotion."

Leonard nodded slightly and went to settle Maric and Sharon.

Klein remained vigilant throughout the journey, but did not encounter "demons" along the way.

It's currently midday when there are the most people, so the chances of a "demon" attack are relatively low.

"Hello, I'm looking for Mr. A from the Aurora Society." Klein arrived at the meeting place and went straight to the Extraordinary Ones there.

Then he sat down in the prayer room with a young man.

Although there is no church here, according to Klein's observation, it actually functions as a church, and Mr. A is equivalent to the bishop here.

This is probably an unspoken understanding between churches: churches are not allowed to appear, but the aurora borealis can still be found here.

"Looking for Mr. A?" The man glanced at Klein. "Who are you?"

He wore a dark robe with mysterious patterns on the cuffs, had short brown hair, and his eyes sparkled with a lively spirit. Like Mr. A, he was also... very handsome.

It seems that you need to be good-looking to join the Aurora Society... Is he perhaps a priest of the "True Creator"?

“‘Demon’,” Klein suddenly uttered a word.

"Huh?" The young man looked Klein over carefully and nodded slightly. "He's out now. If you have any information, you can tell me, and I'll assess its value."

"You?" Klein hesitated for a moment.

"Why are you looking down on me? I'm the second-in-command here." The young man chuckled.

"Hmm..." Klein nodded slightly. "I was attacked by a Sequence Six 'Demon'."

"Sequence Six 'Demon'?" The young man opposite him suddenly straightened up.

"That was a demon dog. Its owner was an even stronger 'Demon' pathway Beyonder, who was the source of my last intelligence."

"Hiss! That's something!" The young man became even more serious, and he wrote down every word Klein said afterward.

"This information is very valuable and can help us narrow down our investigation."

"So what kind of reward do you want? Gold pounds or something else?"

"I need..." Klein listed many kinds of auxiliary materials, which were quite valuable.

"...Okay." The young man did some mental calculations for a moment and nodded in agreement.

As expected of a branch of the Aurora Society, Klein quickly obtained his items, which meant he could complete his promotion today.

"If you have more information, you can contact us. Of course, you can also pay us in gold pounds to get rid of that 'demon'."

This person doesn't even take this "demon" seriously, is it because they have the backing of the Aurora Society or because their own sequence is high enough? Are they also sequence six?

"May I leave your name?" The man picked up a pen and paper, ready to take notes.

"Sherlock Moriarty." Klein thought for a moment and then gave the fake name.

"My name is Belt Moore..."

Belt Moore noted down Klein's name. "Oh, detective!"

At that moment, both Klein and Belt froze, as if an electric current had flashed through their brains, making their bodies tingle.

Klein's memory should be good; he doesn't seem to have revealed his profession to this gentleman.

All he gave this gentleman was the fake name he had chosen for himself, a very distinctive name that Klein was quite proud of for a while.

"Gulp!" Bert Moore swallowed hard, looked at Klein, and asked solemnly, as if he had thought of something, "Mr. Sherlock, do you know John Watson?"

(End of this chapter)