Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
In a room filled with the ethereal fragrance of Amantha extract and Eye of the Spirit medicine, Capim’s henchman, who had been possessed by Klein, was made to chant The Fool’s honorific name.
Amidst the monotonous yet rhythmic murmurs and the fragrance that made it difficult to focus, the man’s Spirit Body gradually dissipated. He became muddleheaded but maintained a certain degree of unusual lucidity, as if he was hypnotizing himself.
With Klein’s “help” in his Spirit Body form and the feedback from the chanting The Fool’s honorific name, he slowly entered an “artificial sleepwalking” state. His Astral Projection approached the infinitely high gray fog and the mysterious location above the gray fog.
Klein seized the opportunity, ended the summoning, and returned to the towering ancient palace, where he sat at the seat belonging to The Fool.
He saw a bright light circle rippling around him, sketching out the illusory figure of Capim’s henchman. The mysterious space was affected by the ritual as it trembled slightly. Some of the energy was being pried away and was slowly flowing.
Klein picked up the Dark Emperor card, and a paper figurine flashed in his hand.
With a flick of his wrist, the paper figurine flew out and absorbed the sliver of energy that had been pried out of the gray fog. It then transformed into a man wearing a black cap and a thick cotton jacket. He looked identical to Capim’s henchman—even his aura and feel was indistinguishable from the real person.
This paper figurine overlapped with the target’s illusory figure and helped him resist the mysterious and unknown restrictions placed within his Spirit Body.
At the same time, Klein held the Dark Emperor card and spread his spirituality, touching the projection of Capim’s henchman formed by the pure light.
This was one of the applications of secret deeds, where a weak human and a great being were able to be a little in tune with each other, feeling the corresponding knowledge and gaining a wonderful spiritual experience. Unlike normal circumstances, Klein was playing the role of the great being in this instance.
In this kind of close interactive state that belonged to a secret deed, humans could gain knowledge from great existences, and great existences could also naturally use questions to obtain the information they wanted.
If it wasn’t for Klein’s inability to master the field of the mind, he would’ve been able to plant an inducing suggestion.
“What kind of powerful people are in Capim’s villa?” Klein asked through the interactive spirituality state.
Without any resistance, the projection transmitted the memories to Klein, making him feel like he was watching a holographic film.
The man in the cap stood respectfully and fearfully in the room. In front of him was a middle-aged gentleman in a black tailcoat and a white wig.
This gentleman had a long, thin, and stern face, and his mouth was naturally pursed, giving off an exceptionally cold feeling.
He followed the golden chain on his watch, took out a pocket watch of the same color, pressed it open to take a look, and then he said in a deep voice, “Look at me.”
The man in the cap didn’t dare to disobey as he raised his head and looked in front of him.
“Yes, Mr. Harras.”
Before he could finish his words, he saw a pair of eyes that flickered with a strange light, and he heard a command: “Maintain secrecy!
“You can’t leak anything you see or hear in this villa to anyone else.”
The man in the cap trembled inexplicably, feeling that he had to do as the other party had ordered.
He lowered his head again and said, “Yes, Mr. Harras.”
The man in the cap carried an unconscious girl along the stairs to the entrance of the basement.
There was a small room that was separated from the others, and a bearded man with an unknown age was sitting inside it.
This bearded man had a pair of frighteningly cold blue eyes. He held a thin piece of flannel in his hand and was carefully cleaning the grayish-white rifle on the table.
The rifle was thick and long, connected through a pipe to a large mechanical box of the same color.
It was a high-pressure steam rifle!
That was a military-controlled item!
“Mr. Belize…” The man in the cap bowed his head in greeting.
The man in the cap entered a neatly arranged underground structure which resembled a prison. He then locked the unconscious girl in one of the small rooms.
He locked the door, returned to the corridor, and picked up the lantern he had been assigned.
At that moment, he saw a figure slowly approaching from the other end of the corridor.
The figure seemed to be able to see through the darkness without any lighting.
With the aid of the lantern, the man in the cap realized that it was a woman in her thirties.
The woman was wearing a brown bonnet, a thin white blouse, and suspenders, as well as leather boots that reached her knees.
There were old scars on her face and a cruel smile at the corners of her mouth.
The man in the cap lowered his head in fear as he stammered, “Ma’am Katy…”
The woman ignored him. Step by step, she approached him and walked past him, as though he was nothing more than air.
When the lady named Katy had left, the man in the cap curled his lips and said, “Bitch! When you get into bed, you’ll definitely be more energetic than a prostitute!”
He pushed up his crotch, held up the lantern, and left the basement.
The man in the cap met two men in the grand hall that shimmered gold.
One of them was about 1.65 meters tall, and he was a little plump. He didn’t have any special features, but his eyes always had a frightening look. The other was slightly taller than 1.70 meters, and he looked a bit old. He had some wrinkles and a high nose bridge. His brown eyes were filled with spirit, and he didn’t seem to have a look of deterrence.
“Mr. Capim,” the man in the cap greeted the plump middle-aged man, then he said to another person, “Mr. Parker…”
In the early light of dawn, the man in the cap met the cold middle-aged gentleman called Mr. Harras at the entrance to the basement.
Harras, wearing a white hood, glanced at him, who was standing respectfully by the side. He indifferently stretched out his right palm towards the entrance of the basement and solemnly said, “Confinement!”
Silently, there was a subtle difference in the surroundings.
There are a total of four Beyonders. At least four of them… The strongest should be that Mr. Harras, a Sequence 6 at the very least, or maybe even Sequence 5… I wonder what pathway it is. It does seem similar to the Dark Emperor pathway… Relying on order and issuing commands? Judging from the scenes just now, the restrictions pertain only to the basement, not the entire villa. That’s right. With so many people coming and going during the day, it would be too troublesome to enter and exit once the restrictions are in place… I wonder if it’s the same at night. Klein analyzed the information he had just received and asked again, “What’s the overall layout of the villa?”
He quickly received feedback and saw a magnificent hall, a wide dining room, connected corridors, washrooms, and scenes of the basement.
Through them, Klein pieced together in his mind the rough layout of Capim’s villa.
Feeling the drain on his spirituality, he asked a final question, “Who are the important figures whom Capim is closely related to?”
The scene in front of his eyes was the magnificent hall from before. Half-naked girls were prostrating themselves while serving the guests drinks, letting them abuse them or fool around with them; otherwise, they were being dragged directly to a secluded spot to be ravaged.
They were young, and their faces were bitter and numb. Any slight delay or lack of enthusiasm would result in them being whipped by Capim’s attendants or maidservants.
None of these servants showed a shred of sympathy despite seeing such evil scenes. They fought to be the first to showcase themselves in a bid to obtain rewards.
Klein saw Capim among the guests, the cold Mr. Harras, and a Member of Parliament from the House of Commons who often appeared in the newspapers, Vardera, a fat man who was addressed as Deputy Chief…
Is that one of the Deputy Chiefs of the Backlund Police Department? That’s one of the higher-ups of the police department… To think that not a single one of those servants are good… That’s understandable. The villa’s hired personnel must’ve been screened before and would have to be sufficiently trustworthy… Klein rubbed his forehead, halting the secret deed ritual. The man in the cap was only an inconsequential leader, and that was all he could know or participate in.
Even at this moment, the mysterious restriction on him was still unperturbed.
Klein ended the ritual and allowed him to vanish from above the gray fog as he returned to the real world.
He sat by the bed and looked at the man in the cap who was unconscious. According to the information he had just gathered, he analyzed the feasibility of a performance and considered one plan after another.
In the end, Klein came up with a definite idea. He whispered to himself,Perhaps, I don’t need a helper…
A helper would drag me down instead, making it inconvenient for me to escape in times of danger.
Picking the right time is very important.
Nearly fifty minutes later, the man in the blackish-gray cap appeared in East Borough as he headed straight for the streets controlled by the Zmanger gang.
As soon as he saw a few dark-skinned, lean people with ferocious looks, he immediately went close. Pretending to not watch where he was going, he bumped into one of them.
“Damn it! You bunch of trash!” the man in the cap cursed loudly and punched at one of them.
Highlanders, who loved to fight, didn’t back down and entered a brawl with him.
In the process, the man in the cap pulled out his dagger, and the other highlanders also drew their weapons.
During the battle, a dagger stabbed into the capped man’s neck as he failed to dodge in time. It went right into his arteries.
The man in the cap fell as red blood pooled around his head.
He quickly lost his life, and the illusory, transparent figure within his body immediately vanished.
Klein returned above the gray fog, and using it as a springboard, he re-entered his body. He then opened his eyes in the cheap hotel in Cherwood Borough.
He cleaned up the rest of the evidence and went to the front desk to check out of the room.
On his way back to Minsk Street, Klein once again went above the gray fog.
He wanted to divine a simple but crucial piece of information!
He picked up a fountain pen and wrote down a line of text: “Capim’s dinner time today.”