Beneath the Saint Selena Cathedral, in the guardhouse Chanis Gate.
Leonard Mitchell leaned back in his chair, raised his legs and rested them on the edge of the table, his eyes vacant and unfocused.
Even after the Ritualistic Magic treatment, his complexion remained very poor, as if he had just recovered from a serious illness but had not yet begun to improve.
At this very moment, the powerful figures sent by the Holy Church are rearranging the seal behind the Chanis Gate. Due to the loss of Saint Selena's ashes, their opinions are divided. Some hope to use new relics to compensate for the missing power, while others believe it's unnecessary to go through so much trouble. After all, relics are extremely rare and precious to the entire Church of the Night Goddess. Their proposed idea is to lower the status of the Tingen Market Nightwalker Squad and transfer items with living characteristics or those difficult to seal to the headquarters, the Church of Tranquility, or the Backlund Diocese, leaving only the easily manageable ones.
They planned to send a telegram requesting the Pope to convene a meeting where the archbishops and senior deacons would vote on the matter.
Leonard felt nothing about these arguments. He felt as if he had become a living corpse, without pain, sadness, excitement, or agitation. He was unusually numb and unwilling to face others, preferring to stay alone in a corner.
He occasionally had a question that flashed through his mind: why did the "killer" only take Klein's Beyonder Characteristic, while leaving Captain Dunn Smith's?
Tap, tap, tap—the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. Siga Tron, appeared at the door of the guard's cell.
While Dunn and others besieged Megose in an attempt to save Tingen City, she and the internal guardians of the Chanis Gate were also fighting against some of the Sealed Artifact. If the Mandated Punishers and members of the Machinery Hivemind had not arrived in time, and if the reinforcements sent by the Holy Cathedral had not finally arrived, she would probably have lost her life tragically.
Even so, the elderly internal guard did not last until the end and died on duty.
" Leonard, I found a telegram in the captain's office that hasn't been decoded yet. It must have been sent by the Holy Cathedral earlier," said part-time Author Siga Tron.
Leonard's emerald green eyes flickered, and he finally came to life. He vaguely remembered hearing the sound of a new telegram coming in, but at the time, with the battle about to break out, neither he nor Klein had the mind to pay attention.
"What's the content?" Leonard found his voice unusually dry.
The white-haired, black-eyed woman Siga Tron, answered without hesitation:
"Beware Ince Zangwill, beware the Sealed Artifact '0-08'."
" Ince Zangwill, the traitorous archbishop, the ' Gatekeeper ' who failed his ascension... the Sealed Artifact '0-08,' a seemingly ordinary quill pen..." Leonard first muttered blankly to the memories he could dig out, then tilted his ear.
He suddenly narrowed his eyes, and his dejection and frustration vanished at the same time.
"So that's how it is..." Leonard suddenly pulled his legs back and stood up, his emerald green eyes seeming to burn with flames.
He looked at Siga Tron and said:
"I plan to apply to join the ' Red Gloves '."
" Red Gloves " is a nickname for the elite team within the Nighthawks. Generally speaking, each Nighthawks team is stationed in a local area and has its own jurisdiction. They cannot go outside their jurisdiction to hunt down Criminal without permission. However, some evil guys always move around after a single shot, which causes a lot of inconvenience.
To this end, the Church of the Evernight Goddess established the " Red Gloves " within the Nighthawks. They are a rigorously selected elite who even possess some of the sacred relics. Their mission is to reinforce the Nighthawks squads that send out signals, and to track down and capture any evildoers they are monitoring without restriction.
Within certain circles, they are known as " Trackers " and " Hounds."
"' Red Gloves '? But their minimum requirement is Sequence 7... Moreover, the dangers faced by ' Red Gloves ' are many times greater than those of ordinary Nighthawks squads," Siga Tron said with a mixture of doubt and concern.
Leonard forced a smile that lacked any real mirth.
"I'm almost ready for a promotion."
His eyes turned cold, and he gritted his teeth, muttering silently to himself:
I want revenge!
Ince Zangwill, you must live until I become strong!
"Alright..." Siga seemed to have guessed Leonard's thoughts and sighed, "Half or even more of our team members will be new faces. Even for the Nighthawks squad, such a devastating defeat is rare..."
Leonard's eyes darkened, and he gritted his teeth, saying:
"Have you disposed of the body?"
"Hmm." Siga nodded almost imperceptibly.
Leonard strode forward and headed for the door.
"I'll go and inform their families."
I'm going to face the scenario I least want to face.
Oh my god...
At No. 2 Daffodil Street, Melissa sat on a single sofa, repeatedly studying the three tickets in her hand, examining the text on them, the printed dates, and the seat numbers.
Benson sat beside her, smiling as he watched his focused sister, his posture very relaxed.
Suddenly, they heard the doorbell ring, ding-dong, ding-dong.
Melissa glanced at Bella, the maid who was busy in the kitchen, picked up the three tickets, stood up with a slightly puzzled look, and hurried to the door.
Her black hair was much shinier than before, her face was no longer thin, but had a healthy glow, and her brown eyes were bright and lively.
Melissa turned the handle and opened the door, then paused for a moment, because she didn't recognize the visitor.
This was a young man with dark hair and blue eyes, quite handsome, but his face was unusually pale, and his eyes held a deep sadness.
"May I ask who you are?" Melissa asked, puzzled.
Leonard had specifically worn a black suit jacket over his white shirt, replied in a deep, hoarse voice:
"I'm your Klein's colleague."
Melissa's heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, she stood on tiptoe and looked behind Leonard, but saw nothing.
Her voice trembled slightly as she asked:
Where is Klein?
Leonard closed his eyes briefly, took a breath, and said:
"I'm so sorry, your Klein died at the hands of a vicious Criminal while saving some people. He was a hero, a true hero."
Melissa's eyes widened little by little, her body swayed almost imperceptibly, and the three tickets in her hand slipped limply to the ground.
They are facing upwards and bear the title of the play " The Return of the Count ".
In Moretti's living room, Leonard barely dared to look at Melissa and Benson across the room.
But the image of the other person kept flashing through his mind involuntarily:
The girl, brimming with youthful energy, stared blankly into the distance, her pupils unfocused, as still as a Puppet.
The man, who bore a resemblance to Klein, tried to maintain a normal demeanor, but he would often space out and speak a beat slower than usual.
"That's how it is. I'm sorry I couldn't stop it in time. Blackthorn Security Company, the police, and those who were helped have promised you a compensation payment of about £6,000..." Leonard said, his gaze slightly shifting.
Suddenly, Benson interrupted him, asking in a hoarse voice:
"Where is his body? I'm asking about Klein's body?"
He pursed his lips, paused for a moment, and then said:
When will we be able to see him?
"We can do it right now, inside the company," Leonard replied, unable to hide his sadness.
"Okay," Benson said, forcing a stiff smile. "I'll go to the restroom first."
Without waiting for Leonard's response, he strode into the first-floor bathroom and slammed the wooden door shut.
Benson walked to the sink, turned on the tap, and let the tap water flow freely.
He bent down, lowered his head, cupped his hands, and slapped the water onto his face repeatedly.
As he was patting, his movements suddenly stopped, and remained unchanged for a long time. The only sound in the entire washroom was the rushing water.
Several dozen seconds passed before Benson finally looked up at the bathroom mirror. He saw that his face was covered in water droplets, and his eyes were so red that he could no longer hide them.
A few days later, in a corner of Raphael Cemetery.
After Dunn's funeral, everyone gathered in front of a new tombstone with a black-and-white photograph of Klein, a very scholarly-looking picture.
Melissa stood in front of the grave, her eyes unfocused and unfocused, while Elizabeth beside her kept wiping away tears.
Leonard, Benson, Frye, and Brett carried the coffin over and placed it into the grave.
After the pastor's eulogy and everyone's prayers, the soil began to fill the coffin, gradually covering it.
At this moment, Melissa half-squatted down and threw in the copper whistle that had been found on her brother.
Leonard turned his head to look at this scene, feeling a pang of sadness in his heart. He also admired the girl's strength. After hearing the bad news, she hadn't cried or made a fuss; her silence was heartbreaking.
The grave was filled in, the stone slab was placed on top, and Leonard took one last look at Klein's tombstone, whose epitaph had three lines:
"The best older brother;"
"My best younger brother;"
"My best colleague."
In the somber atmosphere, the Blackthorn Security Company gradually left. Selena and Elizabeth also took their leave at the urging of their families, leaving only Benson and Melissa at the scene.
"I'll go hire a horse-drawn carriage..." Benson was in very poor condition, as if he hadn't slept in a long time.
"Okay." Melissa nodded gently.
Watching her brother's figure disappear into the distance, she turned back and gazed blankly at the tombstone.
Suddenly, she squatted down and buried her face in her arms.
After an unknown amount of time, Melissa suddenly muttered a curse:
"Fool!"
She cried, tears streaming silently down her face, tears flowing endlessly, tears that seemed impossible to stop.
Raphael Cemetery at night.
Azik, with his bronze skin, stood before Klein's grave, holding a bouquet of white flowers, silent for a long time. Finally, he sighed and murmured to himself:
"I'm sorry, I'm ten minutes late."
"But I should know who it is..."
He bent down to put down the bouquet of flowers, turned and left the cemetery and Tingen, but did not take the bronze whistle with him.
The crimson Moonlight shone here, creating an indescribable sense of quiet and desolation.
Suddenly, the stone slab sealing the burial pit was overturned, and a slightly pale hand reached out from the soil.
It's sticking out!
Wow!
The stone slab was pushed aside, the coffin lid was pushed open, and Klein sat up, looking around somewhat blankly.
His memory was still fixed on those shiny leather boots and the hand that held Saint Selena's urn, then he drifted into a dreamless sleep.
Klein instinctively lowered his head, unbuttoned his shirt, and looked at his left chest. He saw the gruesome wound and the missing piece of his heart wriggling and healing, just like when he saw the gunshot wound on his temple rapidly healing in the mirror. The only difference was that this time it was slower and more difficult.
P. S.: Thanks again for the generous donation!