Exposed Identity

Klein stood in front of Irina, in a lone alleyway hidden behind the restaurant. He looked her straight in the eyes as he asked, "Are you also from Earth?"

How—how did it come to this? She thought, as the silence stretched on, neither of them uttering a single word.

Many hours earlier, with the sun still high, Irina was chatting happily with Rozanne, as usual, when Klein walked into the Blackthorn Security Company with steady footsteps.

The receptionist greeted him with a smile. "Good morning, Klein. The weather is so cool and beautiful today. I'm looking forward to tonight's feast."

Irina chimed in with a grin, "I love free dinners! I still remember when I became an official Beyonder. Those were my golden days."

The seer deliberately touched his stomach and said, "Miss Rozanne, Miss Irina, you shouldn't be talking about that so early in the morning! I'm already dreading today's mission, and it hasn't even started yet. I just want the evening to come sooner."

Rozanne chuckled. "Me too, but Irina, it hasn't even been three months since that dinner!"

She looked around before beckoning Klein closer. Lowering her voice, she whispered, "I met Madam Daly earlier."

"Spirit Medium Madam Daly?" Klein asked, surprised.

Rozanne gave a firm nod. "Yes, but she's already left. Ah, she's my ideal Beyonder. If I became a Spirit Medium, I'd travel all over the world! To Intis, Feysac, Feynapotter, the Southern Continent—through vast prairies, primitive forests, and snow-covered plains!"

Klein shook his head in amusement. "Even Madam Daly has to apply and get permission to leave Enmat Harbor."

"I think Klein's right, you know," Irina added cheerfully.

Rozanne puffed her cheeks. "I know that! But you didn't have to remind me and shatter my dreams!"

She sighed. "The truth is, I'd never become a Beyonder. It's too dangerous. I can already see myself dying from some sudden gunfire. From what I've seen, Beyonders turn themselves into monsters just to fight other monsters."

Klein let out a long sigh. "Archbishop Chanis says we're guardians... but also miserable wretches constantly battling against threats and madness."

Feeling the conversation taking a dark turn, Irina quickly interjected, smiling. "Yikes, what's up with this vibe? Let's not get all gloomy first thing in the morning. Cheer up! Dinner isn't coming out of our pockets, and I can't wait."

Rozanne chuckled and turned toward the partition. "By the way, Captain wanted to see you when you arrived."

Klein gave a quick "alright" before heading off, hat and cane in hand.

By two in the afternoon, Irina, Leonard, and Klein stood outside a simple two-story building on the outskirts of the North Borough. The place was in disrepair, with weeds overtaking the garden and vines creeping up the walls.

Irina sighed in exhaustion. "Welcome to hell, Klein."

Klein, dressed in his probationary inspector uniform, looked at the overgrown garden and the building. "Our combat instructor lives here?" He asked, surprised.

Leonard, who had guided them there, snickered. "Don't underestimate Mr. Gawain because of his surroundings. He was never given an aristocratic title, but he was a true knight back in the day." He grew melancholic. "He was active during the waning era of knights, when warriors in armor would charge through enemy ranks despite gunfire and cannon fire. But the invention of steam guns and machine guns forced them to step down. Mr. Gawain met the same fate."

Leonard continued, voice tinged with poetic sadness, "More than twenty years ago, the Awwa Knights faced the Intis Republic's advanced weaponry. Every time I think of it, I feel like I'm touching the dust heaps of history. The poet in me stirs, but alas, I don't know how to compose the poem."

Klein offered a serious suggestion. "A schoolmate once told me that composing poetry requires talent. You should start by reading the Classical Poems Anthology of the Loen Kingdom."

Irina sneered. "Or maybe being a poet was never your true calling."

Leonard ignored the jab, his mood changing abruptly. With a lighthearted tone, he replied, "I already have that book, along with others like Selected Poems of Emperor Roselle. I'll work hard to become a true Midnight Poet, Mr. Seer."

"You'll still need books on grammar," Klein quipped.

Yoo, that's a low blow, Irina thought with a smirk.

Leonard chuckled and pushed open the half-closed metal gate. "Alright, let's head in."

The three followed the path toward the house. They were still a distance away when a tall man stepped out of the main door. His short blond hair was streaked with white, and his face was heavily lined with age.

"What are you doing here?" The man asked in a deep voice.

Leonard smiled and explained, "Mr. Gawain, as per your contract with the police department, this probationary inspector will be learning the art of combat under your guidance."

Mr. Gawain muttered to himself, "Another one?"

With a dark expression, Gawain stood in silence for several seconds before saying, "Throw a punch."

Klein, who wasn't holding his cane, raised his arm and threw a punch forward.

Irina couldn't hold back a chuckle. "It's giving... flimsy."

Gawain's lips twitched slightly, and after a moment, he said, "Kick."

Klein shifted his weight, tightened his muscles, and kicked forward with his right foot.

Irina giggled. "It's giving... basic."

Leonard, standing beside her, whispered, "Why does that sound like you're making fun of him?"

She looked at him, arms crossed and smiling. "Because I am? Duh. It won't take long for him to surpass me, so I might as well laugh now."

He is the protagonist, so...

The poet grinned. "Like it happened with your shooting skills? Or rather, your non-existent ones?"

Irina sputtered, abandoning their previous tone. "You—just because it's true doesn't mean you have to point it out every single time!"

Gawain cleared his throat, covering his mouth. He turned to Leonard and said, "If your conversation is done, I will honor my contract. But based on his foundation, he needs to come here four times a week, three hours each time, for the first month."

Leonard nodded without hesitation. "You're the combat expert. It's up to you."

Klein turned toward the Poet and asked, "I have a question. If Irina also has training with him, why did you come with us?"

The Poet smiled at Klein. "Because someone likes to skip sessions. Now that both of you will be doing this together, I hope you can keep an eye on her. See you two at dinner."

After Leonard walked out of the metal gates, Klein asked curiously, "Instructor, how should I begin practicing? Punching, or footwork?"

Gawain stood straight, shaking his head lethargically. "What you need now is strength training. See those? Those are two dumbbells made of steel. They'll be your partners for today. Other than that, you'll also need to practice deep squats, running, and rope skipping. Let's take those one set at a time."

Still in a daze, Klein heard Gawain suddenly raise his voice, sternly declaring, "Understood?"

In that moment, Klein felt as though he had returned to military training, facing an inhumane instructor. "Understood!" He replied.

Gawain sighed, turning toward the black steel dumbbells. "You both change out of your clothes. There's a set of knight's training clothes on the sofa. Irina will show you where the toilet is if you need it. Be fast."

Irina repeated her earlier words. "Welcome to hell."

At six in the evening, at a corner table of the Old Will Restaurant, all the members of the Blackthorn Security Company were present except for Frye, who was guarding Chanis Gate. Seven Nighthawks and five civilian staff filled the long table, covered with a white tablecloth.

Waiters carried plates of food, serving each guest. Steaks drenched in black pepper sauce, bacon, sausages paired with mashed potatoes, egg puddings, asparagus, and specialty cheeses adorned the table. There was even rose-colored champagne.

Sadly for the two newest members, the afternoon's training had nearly killed both Klein and Irina's appetites.

I know that if I don't eat now, tomorrow I'll be a zombie. I might even decide to skip again.

Noticing the pale, new official Nighthawk with glassy eyes, Dunn raised his glass of red wine and laughed. "Let us welcome our newest official member, Klein Moretti—cheers!"

Everyone raised their cups, looking at the new member of their team. Klein fought back the discomfort from training and raised his glass of amber champagne. He stood, saying, "Thank you."

He clinked glasses with every Nighthawk, tilted his head back, and finished the small amount of champagne.

Dunn smiled at Seeka Tron. "Is our Miss Author not going to say something on this occasion?"

Seeka smiled back, glancing at Dunn. "In order to make the term 'Miss Author' a reality, Captain, I think you should give me some funds to self-publish my work."

Dunn laughed. "You should learn from Old Neil and give me a more suitable reason."

Rozanne chimed in between mouthfuls of roast mutton. "I'm most impressed with Mr. Neil in this department!"

Amidst the chatter and laughter, Leonard turned to Klein with a chuckle. "Are you so tired that you have no appetite?"

Klein sighed. "Yeah."

Leonard feigned disinterest in wasting food. "If you haven't touched your plate yet, I can help."

The seer didn't mind so he nodded. "That wouldn't be an issue."

Just as Leonard reached for some of his food, Irina smacked him on the back of the head, visibly annoyed. "Don't be a pain in the ass! I know you love being annoying, but have some empathy!"

Turning to the seer with a smile, she urged, "Do eat something, Klein dear. You'll regret not eating later! Start with small bites! The taste of everything is simply divine."

Klein smiled weakly. "I don't think that would wor—"

Irina's smile turned sour. "Don't take the L! Also, stop listening to this Poet. You start eating now, or I'll find a way to make your training harder tomorrow."

He stared at her for a moment before sighing. "If you insist."

As dinner drew to a close, the waiters served plates of beef pudding and ice cream. Both Klein and Irina found the ice cream particularly appetizing.

Dunn suggested, "Let's end dinner here and give Klein a final toast."

After some more chit-chat and champagne, the Captain turned and called for the waiter. "Waiter, the bill, please."

The waiter went to the counter and returned with the check, providing a thorough breakdown. "You opened five bottles of Desi Champagne, each bottle costing twelve soli and three pence; a small glass of Southville Red Wine for ten pence. Each black pepper beef steak was one soli two pence. Each serving of beef pudding was six pence, and the servings of ice cream were one soli each. The total comes to five pounds, nine soli, and six pence."

Irina whispered under her breath, "High-key pricey…"

Time passed, and everyone stood outside chatting happily, waiting for a carriage. Dunn, as the Captain, planned to be the last one to leave, and Irina, living in the same apartment complex, would tag along.

The History Teacher and Rozanne listened to one of Seeka's joint missions with another Church when Klein approached them. "I hope I'm not intruding on your conversation. I wanted to ask Irina about Gawain."

Irina pouted. "Now? Can't I catch a break from that ruthless instructor? After today, there's no way I'm going back there tomorrow."

Seeka smiled knowingly. "I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

The seer replied politely, "I'll have to do the same. Leonard told me to keep an eye on her, after all. It's just that the training has its own hardships; I wouldn't want to bother you two with them."

Seeka nodded, sending the History Teacher away with a hush. "Go now; let's not keep the captain waiting for too long."

Klein started inquiring some questions about Gawain and her training as he led her to an alley behind the restaurant, away from the group's ears.

Irina sighed, jaw clenched with exhaustion. "Is it really necessary? It's giving I'm too embarrassed~ Come on, just spill the tea already!"

Klein's lips curled upward. "This is exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I've noticed something about you. Your manner of speaking is unique compared to anyone I've ever met here in Tingen."

Huh? Tingen? Bruh, he still hasn't left the city… unless… is he comparing me to Audrey or Alger? What would I have in common with a pirate or a noble? This makes no sense!

The Seer, sensing Irina's confusion, added, "Not in a negative way, of course. It's just… different. Perhaps the best way to describe it would be 'modern.'"

... modern? Modern!? MODERN!?

The two of them stood face to face in the lonely alley, hidden behind the restaurant. Klein gazed directly into her eyes as he asked, "Are you also from Earth?"

... how—how did it come to t-this?

Silence stretched between them, neither willing to break the stillness.

Irina finally broke eye contact, chuckling awkwardly. "Well—I mean—wow… You're from… Earth?"

Klein immediately responded, "Oh yes, of course. I understand if you don't believe me. You see, I was originally from China, my nam—"

She jumped forward, shushing him with her hands and giving an uneasy laugh. "How about—I mean—well… Not now. Let's not talk about it, alright?"

This is all my fault, Why didn't I pay more attention to the way I talked?!

Klein looked at her, confusion written all over his face. After a moment, Irina sighed and covered her face with her hands. They stood in stoic silence as her thoughts raced a hundred miles an hour. Klein, unable to bear the silence any longer, said, "Look—"

Irina snapped upwards, covering his mouth once again. "No. No, no, no, no. Remember what I tell you now: if you forget it, divine it somewhere where it's going to be 110% safe, okay?"

She tried to calm her racing heart before continuing. "The Warden who abandoned its Origin, the protector Mage that uncovers Time, the Guardian of Knowledge surrounded by Void. You know what this means, right? Under no circumstances must anyone else find out about this Honorific Name. I'm trusting you with it, got it?"

Irina slowly removed her hands and saw the Seer nodding. "Good. You can use whichever material, nothing important or too expensive. Don't mention anything about what you just told me; just say you wish to talk with me." She continued with a serious expression on her face, "Here, nowhere is safe."

Klein waited for her to continue, but when she stopped, he asked, "Is the Entity dang—"

Irina snapped, "You're a Seer, are you not? You can find the answer for yourself. Tonight, at midnight. Do not be late."

With that, she turned and left the alley. Not long after, she heard footsteps following her back to the main street, toward the awaiting Nighthawk group.

At ten minutes to midnight, Irina paced back and forth between the bookshelves. Earlier, she had come in to remove all the books written in foreign alphabets, stacking them in neat piles a few shelves away, hidden from view.

"I messed up…"

She smacked her head with a hand and freefell onto a couch. "Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut?! Klein figured me out so easily! He's so observant... Damn protagonist."

Irina exhaled, massaging her temples. "I don't have much time. Let's rehearse my story for when he arrives."

Not long after, she heard something that sounded awfully similar to Klein's voice. She looked around and noticed a grayish book had appeared not far from her. On the cover was a symbol she could recognize among thousands: the Fool's pathway.

She grabbed it, and as she turned it around, it released a light fog that disappeared almost as quickly as it appeared. On the back was another symbol she was very familiar with: the Fool's church emblem. She stared at it for a moment before reading the title aloud. "Klein Moretti."

The letters began to move upwards, slithering away from the cover and becoming unreadable, merging into a small, flowing ball. Afraid it might hit her face, she waved it away, stopping a couple of meters from the small coffee table in front of the couch.

It felt as though she were holding onto a rope, and as soon as she realized it, she let go. The black mass expanded, shaping itself into a male figure. Irina recognized the silhouette, having seen it just hours prior. The black mass began to liquefy, dripping to the floor and vanishing beneath the glass-like surface.

As it receded, the man beneath was revealed. His black eyes opened, and Irina smiled, greeting him. "Welcome, Klein Moretti, to my very own personal library."