Mellissa

"What's happening?" Melissa heard a noise and looked up, her face filled with confusion.

Seeing her sister's curious gaze, Klein quickly composed himself and discreetly hid the revolver he had been holding. He touched the scar on his temple, confirming that it had fully healed.

Klein retrieved a silver-white pocket watch adorned with vine leaves from the drawer. Pressing the top, he revealed that it was broken.

Expressionless, Melissa hurried over and took the pocket watch from his hand.

Standing in place, she turned the top button of the pocket watch. After a few turns, the second hand began to move.

In that moment, the distant sound of cathedral bells echoed through the air, chiming six times in a row, creating an ancient and ethereal melody.

Melissa tilted her head, listening intently. She adjusted the time on the pocket watch by turning the top button.

"It's fixed," she stated briefly, devoid of emotion, and handed the pocket watch back to Klein.

Klein smiled awkwardly, attempting to maintain a sense of politeness.

Melissa gave her brother a deep look before heading to the cabinet to gather her toothbrush, towels, and other items. She then made her way to the public washroom.

Click! The pocket watch opened. Clack! The pocket watch closed... Melissa returned from washing up and noticed her brother absentmindedly opening and closing the pocket watch.

Annoyance filled her gaze as she spoke in a sweet voice, "Klein, take out all the remaining bread. Remember to buy fresh ones today. We also have meat and peas. Your interview is coming up, so I'll make you mutton stew with peas."

As she spoke, she moved a stove from the corner and began to boil water.

Before the water reached its boiling point, she opened the lowest drawer of the cupboard and retrieved a can of low-quality tea leaves. Treating it as if it were real tea, she threw a few leaves into the pot.

As the water in the pot began to heat up, Melissa opened the bottom drawer of the cabinet and retrieved a can of low-quality tea. She handled the can delicately, as if it held something precious, and reluctantly added ten leaves to the pot, pretending it was real tea.

With two large cups in hand, Melissa and Klein sat down at the table to enjoy their tea and shared two pieces of rye bread.

"Mmm, why does this bread taste so good?" Klein wondered aloud, savoring the flavor.

After finishing their simple meal, Melissa adjusted her black hair that hung down her waistcoat. She tidied up the table, carefully packing the last piece of bread for Klein's lunch. Then, she put on the old shabby cap that had been passed down by her late mother. Finally, she picked up her self-sewn school bag and prepared to leave for her classes, even though it wasn't Sunday.

Meanwhile, Klein remained seated, lost in thought, until the distant church bells began to ring. After seven consecutive chimes, he stood up slowly and walked over to the cabinet to retrieve his clothes.

He meticulously put on a black vest, a matching suit, slightly tight trousers, and a half-topped hat. With a sigh of relief, Klein removed his formal suit and vest, replacing them with a brownish-yellow coat.

Once he was dressed, Klein moved to the side of the bed and lifted the upper cushion. His hand reached through an inconspicuous hole at the bottom, feeling around until he found a hidden compartment.

When he pulled his hand back, he held a few faded dark green banknotes in his palm. There were about seven or eight notes in total

Perhaps due to Klein's fragmented memory or his unchanging desire for money, he had developed an attachment to these small things. The designs on the banknotes, with George III's two mustaches and old-fashioned appearance, seemed cute to him.

After completing these preparations, Klein placed the key in his right pocket, grabbed a large dark brown paper bag, and headed towards the door.

His footsteps went from fast to slow until they eventually stopped. Klein paused by the door, his eyebrows unconsciously raised, as if sensing something amiss.

After contemplating for a moment, Klein returned to his desk and opened the drawer. From it, he retrieved a gleaming brass revolver.

It was the only defensive weapon he could think of, the only weapon that possessed enough power. Although he had never practiced shooting, simply brandishing such a revolver would surely intimidate anyone.

He gently ran his fingers over the cold metal of the revolver before carefully placing it in the same pocket where he kept his notes. With the money clasped in his palm, his fingers pressed against the grip of the gun. It was perfectly concealed.

Feeling a sense of security, Klein, who prided himself on being knowledgeable about a variety of subjects, suddenly had a concern. What if he accidentally fired the gun?

Overwhelmed by this thought, Klein quickly devised a solution. He withdrew the revolver and released the cylinder. Aligning the empty chamber, a result of the previous "suicide," with the gun's hammer, he closed it again.

This way, even if there was a misfire, he would only discharge an "empty round."

After returning the revolver to his pocket, Klein kept his left hand firmly inside. With his right hand, he adjusted his hat and pulled open the door before stepping out.