Klein narrowed his eyes slightly, sizing up the man before him.
The burly man standing in front of him looked about 1.9 meters tall. He had solid muscles and wore a dark brown vest. His powerful arm tapped impatiently against the doorframe, as though he were ready to punch his way inside at any moment.
"Sherlock Moriarty?" the burly man asked in a low, hostile voice. "You've got some nerve, working as a private detective on our turf."
Their turf? Gangsters here to collect protection money? Klein analyzed the situation.
Klein knew that Backlund was full of gangs, but he hadn't expected any of them to come knocking on his door.
Had public safety in Backlund really deteriorated this badly...?
His fingers slipped discreetly toward his cuff, where he had concealed some playing cards. For a Clown, playing cards were even more useful than knives. They were easy to hide and deceptively harmless.
Although Klein's spiritual intuition had given him no warning, something was clearly wrong with the situation.
He maintained a polite smile, but his tone carried an appropriate degree of caution. "Sorry, I only moved here recently. I'm not very familiar with the local rules."
"Rules?" The burly man sneered. "The rule is, without our permission, you can't even look for a lost dog-"
"That's enough, Bart. Calm down. Don't frighten our new friend."
A gentle voice came from behind him. The burly man snorted and stepped aside.
Only then did Klein notice another man of average build standing behind him. He wore a finely tailored dark suit and gold-rimmed glasses, with an astute, radiant smile on his face.
"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moriarty." The bespectacled man extended a hand. "I'm Charles Hoorn, a director of the Truth Society. This is Bart, our... security officer."
*The