Translator: Atlas Studios Editor: Atlas Studios
Seeing the white foam of the Southville beer being placed in front of Sherlock Moriarty, Carlson finally came to his senses.
It was only when the bartender was a certain distance away from them did he ask in a suppressed voice, “What do you want?”
Klein picked up his glass and took a sip. He took a few seconds to savor the bitter taste of the malt and the faint sweetness from it.
“Cheers!” He looked sideways at Carlson and smiled before raising his glass.
Without hesitation, Carlson shook his head and refused the offer, mumbling, “You have beer, while I have strong distilled liquor. It’s not suitable for a toast.”
Klein was only going through the motions, so he once again took a sip of his Southville beer, looked straight ahead, and chuckled.
“What I want is very simple.
“I’m not sure what’s inside the tomb, so I can only describe it rather vaguely… Well, I hope that I can choose an item from the spoils of your tomb exploration. I’m not greedy, and my request will not involve high Sequence items. I wouldn’t dare to take it even if they were one of the options.
“If you find nothing or there are only high Sequence items, then I don’t want anything. Of course, I believe that when the latter happens, you wouldn’t be stingy with giving me a sum of cash that’s consistent with my contribution.”
After hearing about the Amon family’s tomb from Miss Sharron yesterday, he had came up with rough plans.
The first plan was to blow the copper whistle, contact Mr. Azik, and join forces to explore the tomb.
However, there were many potential problems with this plan. Firstly, he was unsure of the amount of strength Azik, who was still in the midst of finding his lost memories, had regained. Secondly, Azik was being pursued by MI9, so it was very easy for him and Azik to land in trouble. Thirdly, there was a high chance that Klein would end up reappearing in the sights of Sealed Artifact 0-08 once again. Of course, he could also consider using the help of the gray fog to make contact or embark on the expedition. However, blowing the copper whistle above the gray fog made it impossible to summon the messenger; therefore, ending all of his subsequent plans.
More importantly, Klein didn’t dare to reveal the secret of the space above the fog to Azik Eggers whose identity remained a mystery.
Therefore, he finally chose the second method, which was to use his identity as an informant to submit the information to the Machinery Hivemind and ask for a reasonable reward.
When it came to the number of High-Sequence Beyonders, which faction could have more than the seven Churches?
According to what Klein knew, there were close to ten High-Sequence Beyonders in the Church of the Evernight Goddess. In other words, nearly half of the thirteen archbishops and nine high-ranking deacons had reached or surpassed Sequence 4. This wasn’t considering the adorer of the Goddess, the Pope who helmed the Church.
Even if the situation regarding the Church of the God of Steam and Machinery was inferior in this aspect, it couldn’t be that inferior. Their archbishop of the Backlund diocese, Horamick Haydn, was a High-Sequence Beyonder.
And as such, for an orthodox church, with all its resources accumulated to date, it wouldn’t value the Mid-Sequence items very, very, very much. Klein believed that he could negotiate a reasonable “price.”
Simply put, the core element of the second plan was: find an organization for any difficulties!
Upon hearing Klein’s offer, Carlson paused for a second, then blurted out, “Aren’t you a believer in God?”
I’ve always had the Goddess in my heart… Klein drew a triangular Sacred Emblem on his chest.
“It is because of my belief in God that I’ve told you this information, not to the Nighthawks through Mr. Stanton.
“God said to let those who wish to be strong, be strong. Only by becoming stronger and having more money can I have more access to different channels and resources, and thus provide you with better and more effective information.”
In order to convince the Machinery Hivemind, he had specifically spent the morning reading through the “Steam and Machinery Bible” that he had bought earlier. He then found a few sentences from the deity that met his requirements and memorized them.
Carlson was momentarily unable to provide a rejoinder. He just sat there, stunned, to the point of forgetting to drink.
Seeing this, Klein quickly added, “Moreover, this will help you establish a harmonious and efficient relationship with new-generation informants. As long as you spread the news of the rewards I receive as a result of this, as well as keeping your promise without going back on your word, then I believe that the other informants will be deeply moved and be greatly motivated to do their best to gather useful information for you.
“Of course, I wish that you use my pseudonym when advertising this.”
Carlson listened with a blank face, picked up his glass, and gulped down a mouthful. He almost choked.
“Cough. Sherlock, the real you is completely different from what I remember about you from before.” He sighed.
The Detective Sherlock Moriarty in his memories was good at analysis and reasoning, he was extremely calm and polite, and, with a great sense of justice, had offered very effective advice. He was an outstanding believer in God.
Yet now, he was…
Klein took a sip of his beer and chuckled.
“Everyone has their different sides. Using a single facade to face everything is prone to error. This is a problem you have to pay attention to when making deductions.”
After calming down for a moment, Carlson stood up and said, “I have no right to agree to such a request. I will report it immediately, so wait here for a while.”
“Alright.” Klein waved to the bartender and added a serving of potato wedges.
By the time he leisurely finished his food and beer, Carlson returned to the bar with the deacon of the Machinery Hivemind, Ikanser Bernard.
Ikanser looked around, and seeing that there was no one around, he said in a deep voice, “There’s no problem with your request, but there’s one condition to add on—items with strong side effects and curses are not among the items available for selection.”
What I want is an ingredient… Klein immediately laughed.
“Dare I ask again if is this your personal decision or the response from the higher-ups?”
“I have the right to make such a decision.” Ikanser used his hat to press down on his fluffy hair. “But since it concerns an aristocratic tomb from the Fourth Epoch, I had sent a telegram to the archbishop, and he didn’t object to it in his reply.”
“Alright.” Klein drew another triangular Sacred Emblem on his chest. “I’ll give you the information now.”
Ikanser shook his head subconsciously.
He looked around and pointed to a billiard room.
“Let’s talk inside.”
This deacon, who is always publicly placed on trial by the mirror called Arrodes, is quite experienced… Klein murmured and followed Ikanser and Carlson into the billiard room while making sure that the adjacent rooms were empty.
Klein paused for a few seconds and said with some deliberation, “The thing is, there was a Beyonder who found a hidden tomb at the mouth of the Stratford River in White Cliff Town. He searched the periphery and found some items.
“After that, they recruited people and did further explorations, but no one returned. If you search carefully over there, you will definitely find the corresponding traces.”
After listening carefully, Ikanser asked, “Are you sure it’s an aristocratic tomb from the Fourth Epoch?”
“The items on the outside can prove that they’re members of the Tudor Dynasty’s Amon family,” Klein answered truthfully. He then warned him, “The Beyonders who died in there weren’t weak at all, and there were quite a few of them. I believe that this tomb isn’t something that can be explored by those below High-Sequence Beyonders.”
“Amon…” Ikanser frowned instinctively.
It could be seen that, as a deacon, he had the authority to know some ancient secret history.
Without waiting for Klein to emphasize it again, he looked up and said, “We will collect the relevant information first before we act.”
“A Fourth Epoch aristocratic tomb is very dangerous. Don’t tell this information to anyone else, or explore it yourself. Otherwise, you and your friends will only lose their lives.”
If I dared, I wouldn’t be sitting here… Klein gave a self-deprecating laugh and said, “My reputation has always been good.”
After making the deal, he watched Ikanser and Carlson leave before putting on his hat and sauntering out of Lucky Bar.
Towards the nobles of the Fourth Epoch, as well as the Amon family, the Machinery Hivemind will still be very cautious. They’ll have to have at least several days of preparing before they take action… Prudence… Klein’s random thoughts froze on a single word.
He thought of another thing that could be described as being prudent.
After Roselle had joined the ancient organization suspected of being the Twilight Hermit Order, he had actually never mentioned its name in his own secret diary which was written in Chinese. Each time, he would refer to it by referring to it with the appropriate characteristics.
This level of prudence was a very suspicious phenomenon!
Why didn’t Emperor Roselle dare to mention the name of that organization, even when it’s written in Chinese? This is completely different from the style of writing where he dared to write anything in his diary… What was he afraid of, or what was he worried about? Could it be that as long as he said or wrote down the name of the Twilight Hermit Order, then they would be made aware of it it no matter which language he used? Does one of their members or a Sealed Artifact they possess have such abilities? A guess popped up in Klein’s mind, but there was no way to confirm it unless he was willing to take the risk.
I’ll first assume it’s true and that I haven’t been perceived by them, because the channeling of the Desire Apostle’s spirit had been done above the gray fog. Informing Miss Justice of it was also done in response to a prayer using the gray fog… Well, it’s almost Monday, and I have to remind Miss Justice at the Tarot Club not to say or write down the name “Twilight Hermit Order.” As for the reason, she can understand it by herself with me simply giving her a look… Klein quickly made his next arrangements and strode out of Lucky Bar.
Seeing that it was still early, he took a horse carriage to the Quelaag Club, intending to spend the afternoon there.
As soon as he entered the hall, he saw the equestrian teacher, Talim Dumont.
This descendant of blue-blood was seated in a corner, holding a glass of scarlet grape wine. His face was rosy, and he was sipping it in high spirits.
“You seem to be in a good mood, Talim,” Klein smiled and greeted him.
Talim chuckled and said, “Because the new year is coming.”
Then, rather excitedly, he asked, “Sherlock, do you know what it’s like to really like someone?”
“…” Klein showed a fake smile.
“I’m sorry, I’m still single.”
Talim finished the rest of his wine, stood up, waved his hand, and said, “That’s a pity. Well, I have to get busy.”
“By the way, thank you for introducing Mr. Framis Cage,” Klein recalled the investment of the bike project and sincerely expressed his gratitude. “When are you free these days? I’d like to get you to bring me around to sample some of Backlund’s delicacies.”
“After the new year.” Talim put on his hat and walked with a smile to the reception hall.
Has this fellow entered the season of love? Klein couldn’t help but mutter.
Just as he turned around and took a few steps, he suddenly heard a heavy thud.
Klein jerked his head back and saw Talim Dumont on the ground, his left hand clamped tightly at his chest where his heart was. His body was convulsing nonstop.
This… Klein hurried over.
But at this moment, Talim had already spat out all of the white foam on his mouth, losing his last breath of life.
In just a few seconds, he had turned into a dead corpse.