046 Portrait

Ugh! Ugh!

Klein crouched there, struggling to contain his retching, having not eaten breakfast, he soon emptied his stomach.

At this moment, a tin-colored square flask, resembling a cigarette case, appeared before him.

The mouth, devoid of its stopper, emitted a mixed scent of tobacco, antiseptic, and mint leaves, causing Klein's nose to tingle and invigorating his senses.

The strong stench still lingered around, but Klein no longer felt nauseous, and the vomiting ceased quickly.

He followed the tin-colored square flask upward and saw a pale hand, unlike that of a living person, the sleeve of a black overcoat, and the cold and gloomy demeanor of the "corpse collector" Fley.

"Thank you," Klein fully recovered, propping himself up with his hand on his knee, and stood up again.

Fley nodded expressionlessly, "You'll get used to it."

He corked the mouth of the tin flask, stowed it away in his pocket, then turned to the highly decomposed corpse of the elderly woman. Without wearing gloves, he began examining it directly. Meanwhile, Duncan Smith and Leonard Mitchell were pacing around the room, occasionally touching the tabletops and newspapers.

Old Neil, holding his nose, stood outside the door, grumbling in a muffled voice, "It's disgusting, I'll have to apply for a subsidy this month!"

Duncan turned back, using his right hand adorned with black gloves to touch the wall ash next to the fireplace, while looking towards Klein, "Is this place familiar to you?"

Klein held his breath, picturing the appearance of his silver-white pocket watch in his mind, calming his mind and body.

Already in a clairvoyant state, he immediately had a different sensation. Before his eyes flashed a scene from the deepest recesses of memory:

The fireplace, the rocking chair, the table, the newspapers, the rusty iron nails on the door, the tin can inlaid with silver...

This scene was dim and gloomy, like a documentary on Earth, but more blurred, more ethereal.

It quickly overlapped with everything Klein saw before him. The feeling of familiarity and the sense of having been here before became apparent once again, and the ethereal and elusive whispers pierced through the invisible barriers:

"Hornakis... Freglar... Hornakis... Freglar... Hornakis... Freglar..."

"A little familiar," Klein answered truthfully, feeling a headache coming on, so he quickly tapped his brow lightly twice.

Hornakis... Wasn't that mentioned in the original owner's diary, interpreted from the Antigonus family notes...?

The whispers just now and a previous instance seemed similar, both involving the term "Hornakis"... Was this some kind of lure?

Klein was startled, afraid to delve deeper, fearing he might lose control.

Duncan nodded slightly, then walked to the cupboard and suddenly reached out, pulling open the wooden door above.

Inside, the bread had grown moldy, and seven or eight gray, stiff-haired mice lay dead beside it.

"Leonard, go downstairs and find the patrolling police officers, find out what's going on here," Duncan instructed the team members.

"Alright," Leonard turned and left the room.

Duncan then proceeded to open the doors of two bedrooms and searched them thoroughly.

Once he confirmed that no clues were found, as well as the absence of the Antigonus family notes, Fley the "corpse collector" straightened his posture, using the white handkerchief he carried to wipe his hands, remarking:

"More than 5 days since death, no external injuries, nor any significant effects caused by supernatural forces. The specific cause must await further examination."

"Do you two find anything?" Duncan turned his head to look at Old Neil and Klein.

The two, already out of clairvoyant state, shook their heads simultaneously.

"Except for a dead person, everything seems normal here. Well, at the beginning, there was an invisible force sealing the room. You know, when we use ritual magic, there are often similar operations." Old Neil paused for a few seconds before adding.

Duncan was about to speak when he suddenly looked towards the door, and after a few seconds, Klein and Old Neil noticed what it was and turned to look at the corner of the stairs.

After a few more seconds, the faint footsteps gradually grew louder, and Leonard and a police officer walked up.

The police officer, smelling the stench, turned pale and immediately cooperated with his "colleagues" from the Special Operations Department to knock on the door of the second-floor tenant, roughly inquiring about the situation on the third floor.

A moment later, wearing a silver double V shoulder badge, he looked at the dead body on the rocking chair and said:

"Katie Stefina Bieber, between 55 and 60 years old, a widow, has been renting here with her son, Riel Bieber, for over ten years."

"Her husband was a jeweler in his lifetime, and her son is probably around 30 years old, unmarried, inheriting his father's business, earning about £1.15 a week. According to their neighbors, they haven't seen them for over a week."

At this point in the description, Klein knew where the focus was next:

The missing, more precisely, the whereabouts unknown, Riel Bieber!

That ancient notebook was likely on him!

"Do you have a photo of Riel Bieber?" Duncan looked at the police officer, playing the role of a senior inspector.

But this couldn't be called a disguise, because in the police department's records, he was indeed a senior inspector, and his salary and allowances were based on this. Of course, excluding the part from the Church.

The officer, somewhat nervous, shook his head, saying:

"I don't know... I must return to the station to look for it. Normally, we can't leave photos of everyone."

"I understand. You continue to inquire about the first-floor tenants in detail," Duncan ordered.

Watching the officer, he closed the door and turned to Old Neil, saying:

"It's up to you next, otherwise, we'll have to let the residents here sleep and find Riel Bieber's appearance from their dreams. Well, I don't quite trust drawings based on oral descriptions."

Old Neil nodded and took out several thumb-sized bottles from the hidden pocket of his black classical robe, sprinkling the liquid inside them around in a certain order.

Then, he pinched some powder and sprinkled it around himself in a circle.

A strange, pungent smell emanated, unaffected by the foul odor in the room, and Klein suddenly felt a circle of invisible force around Old Neil, separating him from the environment and the rest of them, just like the state of the house before.

With his eyes half-closed, Old Neil's mouth moved, chanting a low and indistinct spell. Klein was caught off guard, only faintly hearing "I invoke the power of the goddess" and "I anticipate the favor of the night"...

Whoosh! Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in through the window, stirring up the powder.

Klein's heart trembled, and goosebumps erupted all over his skin. He felt a kind of indescribable, terrifying "odor" quickly spreading.

His mind was confused, yet tense and unable to relax, much like the state after solving a set of highly difficult math problems.

Suddenly, Old Neil's eyes opened, the pupils pitch black.

He retrieved a hydrophilic steel pen from his pocket and swiftly sketched on the scrap paper on the table, his movements so rapid that his entire body trembled.

Klein gazed intently and saw a face with deep eye sockets and a high nose bridge quickly taking shape.

Once the naturally curly short hair was completed, Old Neil wrote a line of words below the portrait:

"Black hair, deep blue eyes, porcelain false tooth on the left side of the mouth."

Snap! The pen in Old Neil's hand fell onto the paper, and his body convulsed a few times.

"This is the likeness of Riel Bieber left in the room." Old Neil, whose eye color quickly returned to normal, whispered.

Then, he returned to his previous position and slowly turned in place. The invisible, intermittent force instantly dissipated, turning into a gentle breeze.

"Praise the goddess." Old Neil tapped his chest four times, forming the shape of a crimson moon.

Klein's mind relaxed, and he observed more carefully, noticing that Riel Bieber's features were unremarkable, and his temperament was quite peaceful, except for the noticeable nasolabial folds on either side of his nose.

"I'll try using the divining rod method to locate objects." He picked up the portrait and laid out the male clothing from the bedroom on the floor.

Duncan, Leonard, and Old Neil did not stop him, watching as he placed the silver-inlaid black cane on top of the clothing and portrait. Fley the "corpse collector" remained as silent as ever.

Brown turned to black, and Klein's eyes darkened as he silently completed the incantation, releasing his palm.

The black cane stood quietly, as if rooted to the floor.

"Riel Bieber's whereabouts." Klein repeated the words silently in his mind.

In the sound of the wind, the cane toppled over, but during the process, it kept changing direction, eventually turning into a slight rotation around the fulcrum.

Without any external assistance, the silver-inlaid black cane stood upright again.

Klein tried several times, all with the same result, only able to shake his head at Duncan and Old Neil.

Some eerie force was interfering with his "divination"...

Duncan removed his black gloves and said to Leonard and Klein:

"You two take Riel Bieber's portrait and inquire with the residents here for a final confirmation, then issue a warrant for his mother's murder."

"Understood." Klein grasped the cane and stooped to pick up the portrait.

After the neighbors confirmed that the person in the portrait was indeed Riel Bieber, Duncan sent Leonard and the officer to the police station to complete the procedures, while he and Fley went to several bars in Tingen City through underground channels to search for people.

Klein and Old Neil returned to Blackthorn Security Company by public carriage. It was not even eight o'clock yet, and Rosanne had not arrived.

Closing the door, Klein turned to Old Neil, partly puzzled and partly seeking advice:

"Why did I, why would I deliver the Antigonus family's notes to Riel Bieber's house?"

This was completely opposite in direction from Welch Manor to Iron Cross Street.

Old Neil walked to the sofa, chuckling:

"Isn't it very obvious? You triggered the power within the notes, or out of curiosity performed some ritual described in them, provoking some strange existence that shouldn't be provoked. And the purpose of this power, this existence, was to deliver the notes to Riel Bieber, and to cut off all clues, not letting anyone discover anything."

"So, apart from you being chosen, Welch and Naya both committed suicide on the spot. Frankly, I still don't understand why you survived."

"I don't know either..." Klein followed suit and sat down, deliberately smiling wryly as he replied, "Your speculation about the course of events, I have also considered, but I don't understand why the notes had to be given to Riel Bieber."

Old Neil shrugged:

"Perhaps his birth numerology meets the requirements, or perhaps he is the only surviving descendant of the Antigonus family. In any case, there are too many possibilities... The reason why that notebook was sold to our Tingen City should also have similar reasons."

"I think it's the latter." Klein suddenly realized, then sighed, "Unfortunately, I didn't detect it at the first time, and both Riel Bieber and the notebook are missing."

Old Neil smiled and said:

"That's a problem for Duncan to worry about. For you, it's a good thing."

"Why do you say that?" Klein asked, puzzled.