On Airship No. 1345, Klein watched a group of Red Gloves slowly board the vessel. From afar, he gave Leonard a warm smile and raised the wineglass in his hand.
Although he had doubts about the airship's reliability, after conducting multiple divinations, Klein still boarded this mode of transportation, which seemed far from stable to him, to travel to West Balam for an arms trade.
Just as he was speculating about Leonard's purpose for going to West Balam, Mr. Azk's messenger suddenly appeared, nearly making him overreact.
After all, this was a military airship, and more than a dozen Red Gloves were staying on the lower deck. Fortunately, judging from the current situation, the bone messenger did not seem to have attracted much attention. Only then did Klein relax. He accepted the stack of letters offered by the inexplicably respectful messenger, turned around, and headed to the small lounge to read Mr. Azk's letter.
From the contents of Mr. Azk's letter, Klein felt that the other party had not undergone any obvious changes, though his memories seemed to have recovered considerably. Seeing that Mr. Azk was somewhat interested in the Ring of the Death God, Klein immediately recalled the bullets he had fired into the Black Tulip and sincerely hoped they had not been dug out of the Zombies or the deck.
After burning the letter to ashes, Klein began considering what to write in reply. However, at that moment, a layered murmur suddenly sounded beside his ears.
"At this time... is it Mr. Devil's lunchtime prayer?"
Klein abruptly straightened up, a trace of tension flashing through his eyes. Mr. Devil had not prayed for several days. If he had not asked for leave before the previous Tarot Club gathering, Klein might have suspected that something had happened to him.