Exhausted, Klein released the sealed Wall of Spirituality, letting the cool night breeze, carrying the scent of grass and trees, blow on his face, making him more alert.
He stroked the warm, antique-looking Sealed Artifact "3-0782" in his palm, and sighed inwardly:
"Who would have thought that this badge contained a drop of divine blood... The powerful figures of the Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun probably searched for it, but to no avail..."
After stretching his neck, Klein dared not try any other ideas and put the " Mutated Holy Emblem of the Sun " on the inside of his thin trench coat.
He followed the chain, pulled out a silver pocket watch with a vine pattern, snapped it open, glanced at it, and realized that it was still more than an hour before " Corpse Collector " Frye would come to relieve him.
"My eyelids need two matches to stay open... This is the consequence of courting death!" Klein had no choice but to take out a small metal bottle from the small hidden pockets, uncork it, and bring it to his nose.
The pungent smell of mint and disinfectant mixed together quickly entered his nose, irritating him and causing goosebumps to rise. He was instantly refreshed and forgot his drowsiness.
This is a recipe he learned from " Corpse Collector " Frye, called " Oil of Krag," which helps people fight off the stench of decay and has a refreshing effect.
For the next hour or so, Klein endured immense suffering, frequently getting up to wander around and being bitten and sucked blood by mosquitoes in the woods several times.
Finally, he saw Frye, with his high nose, thin lips, black hair, and blue eyes, wearing a light trench coat and carrying a cane, walk out of the town.
Although the other party still looked cold, gloomy, and like Living Corpse, Klein felt as if he had seen a savior. He covered his mouth and yawned, tears welling up in his eyes, as he went to meet him and took the Sealed Artifact "3-0782" from inside his clothes.
"What happened?" Frye asked, noticing his teammate's pale and unwell face.
Klein sighed and said:
"I just finished my shift at Chanis Gate last night, and I didn't sleep well this morning, so I'm very tired now."
He didn't elaborate on the matter, changing the subject by saying, "I'm coming to rotate in four hours?"
"Seven hours, Captain doesn't need to sleep all night." Frye accepted the " Mutated Holy Emblem of the Sun."
Cultivating immortality brings joy... Klein silently insulted the captain, bid farewell to Frye, and headed towards the town.
As he walked along the street towards the hotel, he casually took out his pocket watch again and checked the time:
"Huh, we're almost ten minutes earlier than agreed..."
"What a warm person..." Klein smiled, quickened his pace, returned to the hotel, pushed open the half-closed door, and walked up to the second floor under the scrutinizing gaze of the hotel owner, entering his room.
He locked the door, took off his coat and shoes, and without washing himself, collapsed onto the bed.
In just over ten seconds, his breathing first became heavier, then long and steady.
In his dream, Klein returned to Earth. In front of him was a game he hadn't yet completed. To his left were iced cola and spicy chicken wings, and to his right were bitter bamboo shoot and pork soup and rice.
He never eats bitter bamboo shoots, but he really likes to use them as an ingredient to make soup with sliced meat. The soup is refreshing and appetizing with a slightly oily and enticing aroma, making it perfect for soaking rice.
With a good dipping sauce, he can eat a whole more bowl of rice than usual!
Just as Klein was preparing to enjoy a late-night snack and then play some games, the scene in his dream suddenly changed, reverting to the interior layout of No. 2 Daffodil Street.
Klein suddenly became alert, fully aware that he was dreaming.
He saw himself sitting to the side of the table, holding a copy of the Tingen Daily, with tomato oxtail soup, pan-fried lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and oat bread in front of him.
He subconsciously turned his head and looked towards the door, and suddenly saw a figure standing outside the protruding window opposite the living room, quietly gazing at the figure inside the house!
Klein was startled, but then recognized Dunn, whose gray eyes were deep and unfathomable. Dunn had half his face pressed against the window, silently watching the person inside.
"Captain, please stop scaring people in your dreams! Is this how you Acting Nightmare?" Klein thought, both annoyed and amused, as he took out a spoon, scooped up a piece of beef, and put it in his mouth.
"Yes, it's my work!" he thought to himself, realizing why he had suddenly woken up in his dream and why the Earth scene had vanished in an instant.
He will naturally become alert when someone invades his dreams!
Just then, Dunn left the bay window, pushed open the Moretti family's front door, and, wearing a black trench coat, quietly walked to the opposite side of Klein.
He took off his hat, nodded slightly, sat down, and without any hesitation picked up his knife, fork, and spoon, quickly devouring the tomato oxtail soup, pan-fried lamb chops, mashed potatoes, and oat bread on the table.
Klein stared blankly, completely confused about what his captain was trying to do.
Dunn let out a satisfied sigh, gave Klein a thumbs-up, then took out his pipe and matches and took a delighted puff.
He exhaled a cloud of smoke, stood up, picked up his hat, gave an old-fashioned but steady bow, and strode away from Moretti's house, leaving behind this dream world.
"..." Klein stared at the captain's back for a long time, unable to come back to his senses.
He looked down at the empty plate and instinctively wanted to recreate the food from before.
But this time, neither tomato oxtail soup, nor pan-fried lamb chops, nor mashed potatoes appeared in his dreams.
"Completely ' Devouring '? Is this the power of ' Nightmare '?" Klein's lips twitched as he thought helplessly, "So, the captain's goal is to prevent me from even having a midnight snack in my dreams? This is truly a nightmare... This ' Nightmare ' Acting is really creative..."
He chuckled, exited the dream, and went back to sleep.
At 5:30 a. m. the next day, Klein, who had to get up early, drank coffee, ate toast and bacon, and hurriedly went to the outskirts of town to replace Dunn.
At seven o'clock sharp, they set off on their way back to Tingen City.
Before 10 a. m., they arrived at 36 Zouteland Street. The energetic Dunn placed the Sealed Artifact "3-0782" back behind the Chanis Gate, while Frye sat down at the mechanical typewriter and, before the civilian staff had arrived, personally wrote yesterday's mission report and the corresponding expense reimbursement application.
Klein watched for a while and was pleased to see that all the materials he had used were listed, including the ones he used to repel mosquitoes and insects.
He didn't go home immediately because he had already arranged to meet Doctor. Duster at the mental hospital at one o'clock in the afternoon at a pre-arranged location using coded messages.
"Then there's the Tarot Gathering at 3 o'clock... Why should I, the boss of a Concealment organization, live such a tiring life?" Klein muttered to himself, lying in the Nighthawks' lounge for two hours to catch up on some sleep.
He wasn't worried about forgetting the knowledge and things he had acquired the previous night, as he could recall them through Divination. What he feared was ignoring the existence of this knowledge and these things, even losing the idea of Divination them. Therefore, before going to sleep, he went through all the details in his mind again to deepen his impression.
This is also why Klein insists on writing a summary every week to sort out various situations.
After lunch, he took out his pocket watch, glanced at it, put on his hat, left Blackthorn Security Company, and went to the "Shooting Club" at 3 Zouteland Street.
Pushing open the door and entering the reception hall, Klein didn't go directly to the shooting range belonging to the Nighthawks. Instead, he found a seat in the lobby, patiently waiting with his hands clasped around his black cane.
The meeting place he arranged with Duster was at this " Zouteland Street Shooting Club "!
Their agreed-upon method was to write letters. When Klein needed to meet, he would write to Doctor. Duster Guderian as a patient's family member, inquiring about a special disease called "dissociative identity disorder." In the letter, Klein would use various methods to mention the word " Spectator," which, along with ink dots in hidden locations, would confirm his identity. The time point mentioned unintentionally in the letter would be the time of the meeting.
As for the meeting place, it was already decided during their first meeting. If Klein felt it was time to change the location, he would explain it during the meeting.
When Duster Guderian wants to meet but is not in a hurry, he can send a letter to the Hound Tavern or this shooting club, addressed to "Mr. Hornacis," and wait for Klein to pick it up at a later time.
If he has an emergency, he must deliver the letter directly to Wright, the owner of the Hound Tavern, and mention "looking for mercenaries." In this way, Wright, as an outer member of the Nighthawks, will immediately deliver the letter to Blackthorn Security Company.
After waiting for a while, with two minutes to go, Klein saw the rather refined-looking Duster walk into the lobby of the "Shooting Club".
He wore a black silk top hat, a well-fitting tailcoat, carried a silver-inlaid cane, and wore gold-rimmed spectacles.
Duster glanced around inconspicuously, spotted Klein nodding slightly, then looked away, walked to the front desk, and expertly applied for the shooting range and rented a gun.
He had been here once before.
"Small shooting range number 7, 3 Soli per hour; revolver rental fee, 1 Soli and 6 pence per hour, including six bullets..." The receptionist quickly settled the matter.
After arriving at the Duster, confirming the time was 1 hour and paying the 10 Soli fee, he received his revolver and extra bullets, and was led into the shooting range by the waiter.
Klein waited another five minutes before slowly getting up, picking up his cane, and going to the outside of small shooting range number 7, where he knocked on the door.
With a creak, the door opened a crack, and Duster cautiously peeked out and looked around before stepping aside.
Klein immediately slipped inside and locked the door from the inside.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Duster." He said, taking out a 10- Soli bill and handing it to the other man. "We won't let our peripheral members cover the meeting expenses."
"Because I can get reimbursed..." he added quietly.
Duster accepted the cash without hesitation, then asked in a deep voice:
"Officer Moretti, what brings you to see me today?"
P. S.: Second update, please vote with monthly tickets!