That evening, Klein was walking home.
Since the society's headquarters was not far from his rented house, heading there on time every day for a free lunch had become an unshakable habit.
Carrying the free dinner he had packed at the society's cafeteria, Klein cheerfully pushed open his front door.
The instant the door opened, a chill shot straight to his head.
His Clown intuition had been triggered!
Whoosh!
A small black-fletched arrow grazed his cheek and embedded itself in the doorframe, its tip gleaming with the eerie whiteness of bone.
Had he hesitated even slightly instead of immediately rolling out of the way, he could never have avoided that sudden attack.
Seeing that his ambush had failed, a black-clad figure rushed toward Klein. He closed the distance at a speed no ordinary person could match, then whipped his foot forward in a powerful kick.
With a bang, Klein instinctively raised his arm to block. His entire arm went numb in an instant, and the blow sent him flying.
His opponent was a Beyonder skilled in hunting!
Meursault! That gang's executioner!
Klein recognized his attacker and swiftly worked out a way to counterattack.
"Hh... hh... hh..."
Meursault collapsed in front of Klein, hitting the floor heavily.
Blood flecked with bubbles flowed from the wound in his neck.
A paper contract was embedded in his neck, severing his windpipe.
He stared at Klein in disbelief, his bloodstained fingers clawing several bloody streaks into the floor. He opened his mouth, trying to say something more...
"Urgh..."
In the end, his body twitched a few times, then went still.
Looking at the corpse before him, Klein activated Spirit Vision. Once he confirmed that Meursault was dead and there were no other spiritual responses nearby, he breathed a sigh of relief.
Clearly, Meursault