044 Fate

Leonard's chant resembled a lullaby, softly echoing between the doors and within the winding wooden staircase.

Klein's mind suddenly felt hazy, as if he had glimpsed the serene moonlight and the gently rippling surface of a tranquil lake. His eyelids grew heavy rapidly, as if he could fall asleep while standing.

In this state of blurred perception, he once again felt the invisible, eerie, indifferent gaze from behind, as if he were wandering in the spirit world.

A strange sense of familiarity surfaced, and Klein abruptly regained his thoughts, relying on his powerful intuition and familiarity with meditation to barely shake off the influence of the "Midnight Poem."

But he remained calm, unable to stir any other emotion.

Soon, Leonard ceased his chant, turning his head with a smile. "I'm considering applying for a Fenevra harp. How can a chant be without accompaniment?"

"Heh, just kidding, I heard they're all asleep," replied the black-haired, green-eyed member of the Night Watch, whose poetical demeanor stood out. He took strides towards the door where the kidnappers and hostages were held.

Suddenly, he shrugged his shoulders, threw a punch, and slammed it into the door lock.

Crack!

The wooden boards around the lock shattered, the sound barely audible.

"This requires precise control," Leonard said with a chuckle as he turned back, sliding his hand into the gap, and unlocked the door.

Klein, now fully awake, wasn't as confident as him. He reached under his armpit, drew his pistol, and adjusted the cylinder to ensure it could be fired immediately.

As the door retreated, he saw a man sleeping on the table, a pistol lying at his feet, and another man rubbing his eyes, attempting to stand up.

Stride!

Leonard swiftly approached, knocking out the awakening robber.

Klein was about to follow when he suddenly seemed to sense something. He swiftly turned his body, facing towards the staircase.

Tap, tap, tap. Footsteps ascended from below, gradually becoming clearer. A man in a brown coat, without a hat, carrying a bag of bread, rounded the corner of the stairs and headed towards the third floor.

Suddenly, he paused, seeing the gleaming barrel of a gun pointing at him.

Reflected in his pupils was a young man wearing a half-high silk top hat, dressed in black formal wear, with a matching bow tie, leaning on a cane against the railing, and the dangerous revolver.

"Stop all your movements, raise your hands. Three, two..." Klein's voice was low and soothing.

With both hands gripping the revolver, he attempted to consider the man as a practice target.

In the tense atmosphere, the man in the brown coat dropped the bag of bread and slowly raised his hands.

"Sir, have you misunderstood something?" He stared fixedly at Klein's finger on the trigger, managing a slight smile.

Klein couldn't determine whether he was a accomplice or a neighbor from the next door, but he showed no signs of suspicion and said in a deep voice, "Don't attempt to resist. Someone will come to ascertain if there's a misunderstanding."

At this moment, Leonard, having dealt with the robbers inside the room, emerged. Glancing at the man at the corner of the staircase, he casually remarked, "Seems there's another accomplice among the kidnappers, responsible for coordination and purchasing food, hm?"

Upon hearing these words, the man in the brown coat's pupils contracted, and he suddenly kicked the bag of bread in front of him, attempting to block Klein's line of sight.

Klein seemed unaffected, as if practicing, calmly squeezing the trigger.

Bang!

A burst of blood spurted from the man's left shoulder.

He rolled instinctively, about to flee to the second floor, but Leonard had already reached out, grabbing the railing, and jumped down.

With a muffled thud, Leonard descended from above, landing on top of the man.

The man passed out, and Leonard brushed off the bloodstains, looking up at Klein with a chuckle. "Not bad marksmanship."

I intended to shoot his leg... Klein's mouth twitched imperceptibly, detecting a faint scent of blood in the air.

He found that after taking the "diviner" potion, although his vision, hearing, and touch were not enhanced, he could still "see" the obstructed objects and "hear" faint footsteps, allowing him to make judgments in advance.

Did this fall under the realm of "intuition"? Klein nodded thoughtfully, watching as Leonard retrieved a sharp dagger from the robber's companion and "dragged" him into the room.

With gun in one hand and cane in the other, Klein entered the room where the kidnappers were held. He saw Elliott Vickroll awaken by the gunshot, his body straightening from its curled position as he slowly sat up.

The original three kidnappers were securely tied by Leonard with their own ropes, strung together and thrown into a corner—any missing parts were replaced with torn pieces of their clothing.

The one hit in the shoulder was currently unconscious and being bandaged, but Leonard, disdainful of the filth, didn't bother to remove the bullet.

"Who are you...?" Elliott stammered, surprised and relieved by the scene before him.

"Yes, you've guessed correctly, very accurately," Leonard replied casually, still squatting.

Didn't expect this guy to have a sense of humor... Klein lowered his revolver, looking at Elliott. "We are mercenaries hired by your father. You can also call us security personnel."

"Ah, really? Am I rescued?" Elliott asked, full of joy yet cautious not to move recklessly.

It was evident that in the few short hours since his kidnapping, he had suffered quite a bit, lacking the impulsiveness typical of his age.

Leonard stood up and said to Klein, "Go downstairs and find the patrolling police. Inform them to notify the Vickroll family. I don't want to walk out like a kidnapper with this child and these four fellows."

Thinking about how to handle the aftermath, Klein nodded, holstered his revolver, and picked up his cane, heading towards the stairs.

As he descended step by step, he vaguely felt like he had forgotten something and heard Leonard say to Elliott, "Don't worry, you'll soon see your father, mother, and the old steward Kriely. How about a game of Gwent?"...

Klein suppressed a smile as he walked onto the street. Following the directions of passersby, he found two patrolling police officers.

He didn't use the badge and credentials of the Special Operations Department, but instead, under the guise of a professional security guard, recounted the incident in full detail.

As for the issue of firearms, he wasn't worried at all, having just obtained a "Universal Weapons Permit" the day before—obtaining it through internal channels meant the approval process would be very quick.

The two police officers glanced at each other, one went to inform their colleagues, and notify the Vickroll family, while the other followed Klein back to the room where the kidnappers were held.

After waiting for more than forty minutes, when the police were distracted, Leonard signaled to Klein with a gesture, indicating for him to slip out of the room with him.

"Believe me, going to the police station is a waste of time. Let's leave first." The night watchman with a poet's temperament explained with a relaxed expression on his face.

Klein held an attitude of "when it rains, it pours," not bothering to argue and following behind.

After nearly five minutes, several fast-paced carriages rushed to the building where the kidnappers were held. Steward Kriely accompanied his portly master Vickroll as they alighted.

Even at this moment, Vickroll remained in a state of confusion, finding it hard to believe that good news could come so quickly, as if it were all a dream.

Suddenly, he heard a crisp sound, subconsciously turning his head to see:

A two-wheeled carriage passed by, its windows open, and Leonard, with his black hair and green eyes, snapped his fingers once again.

As the carriage passed the Vickroll family's carriage, Leonard closed the window, turned his body, and looked at Klein.

He smiled and raised his right hand, saying, "A pleasure working with you!"

We're not exactly close... Klein politely reciprocated the gesture with a clap of his hand.

He hadn't expected the kidnapping case to be resolved so quickly, and could only marvel inwardly at the extraordinary abilities of extraordinary individuals. Even as a semi-amateur at Sequence 9, he could accomplish many incredible feats.

"This is the gesture nobles use to celebrate after fencing," Leonard explained with a smile.

"I know," Klein replied, having quite a few noble classmates.

He glanced out the window, furrowing his brow slightly. "Shouldn't we confirm with Mr. Kriely? If he believes Elliott was rescued by the police, our reward will be halved."

A whole 100 pounds! 

As for providing information about the kidnappers' whereabouts, there would be no doubts after the recent "encounter."

"Don't worry about it. Money isn't that important to our lives," Leonard shrugged with a smile.

...It's very important to me! Klein forced a polite smile and said, "Many poets die young due to poverty."

Leonard chuckled. "I believe Elliott won't lie about this matter. I can see that he still retains some innocence. But even if you get a 200-pound reward, you won't get much."

"How much can I get?" Klein asked immediately.

"According to the unwritten rules, half of the reward goes to Mrs. Olliana as additional funds for the team, and the rest is divided among participating members. Unfortunately, you're not a formal member, so you'll probably only get ten percent," Leonard explained.

Ten pounds? Not bad... Klein pretended not to mind, then asked, "Aren't you worried that the kidnappers will wake up and realize they were influenced by extraordinary powers?"

"They won't suspect a thing. They'll only think the weather was too good, too conducive to sleep, that they couldn't help but collapse. They might even believe that the chanting only existed in dreams; we've verified this before," Leonard confidently replied. "As for your Enchanted Bullet, that might raise some eyebrows. Of course, it's perfectly reasonable to assume it's the work of a peculiar enthusiast of the occult."

"Mm," Klein let go of his worries, feeling like he had forgotten or overlooked something.

...

Returning to Zouteland Street, Klein didn't wait for Kriely to arrive. He strolled to Welch's residence, taking a different route home and buying beef, cabbage, and other ingredients for dinner along the way.

As usual, it was a pleasant dinner, with the siblings enjoying leisurely conversation alongside their studies, only this time with an additional visitor knocking on the door.

He was there to collect all the 1-penny copper coins from the gas meter.

As the night deepened, the siblings bid each other goodnight and retired to their respective rooms.

Klein was sleeping soundly when he was suddenly awakened by the rustling sounds outside. Puzzled, he got up and went to the door of the uninhabited bedroom.

Pushing open the weathered door, Klein saw a gray table inside.

On the table lay a notebook, its cover made of hard paper, completely dyed black.

A sense of deja vu washed over Klein inexplicably as he approached and opened the notebook.

The page unfolded to reveal a drawing—a figure dressed in elaborate clothing, adorned with a dazzling headdress—the "Fool"!

Below the "Fool," a line in Hermes language read:

"All will die, including me."

Klein was startled, suddenly noticing a smirk forming on the "Fool's" lips!

Whoosh!

He abruptly sat up, catching sight of the crimson moonlight filtering through the curtains, the bookshelf, and the desk, realizing he had just experienced a nightmare.

As a "diviner," he understood that dreams always revealed something, so he carefully pondered over it.

In his recollection, Klein froze because he knew what he had overlooked today!

While immersed in Leonard's chanting, he had felt an intangible, indifferent gaze from behind.

This gaze was unlike the normal experiences of meditation or spiritual vision, giving him a sense of déjà vu!

And according to Captain Dunn's explanation, whenever such a feeling arose, it often meant...

Klein suddenly sat upright, confirming his sensation:

Yes, it was it—the notebook! The notebook of the Antigonus family!