Bang! Bang! Bang!
Klein held the revolver he had rented from the Cragg Club in one hand, pulling the trigger repeatedly and hitting the target accurately, with the worst shot being above eight rings.
After being fed many bullets, and with the ability to control his body beyond that of an ordinary person after becoming the " Clown," his marksmanship has become quite good.
"If I keep practicing like this for a few months, I could be called a sharpshooter..." Klein opened the cylinder with satisfaction, flicked out the spent cartridges, and amidst the clinking sounds of them hitting the ground, turned to Talym Dumont, and asked with a smile:
Are you satisfied?
"Very good." The riding instructor, Talym, had taken off his black wool coat and light gray sweater, and assumed a boxing stance. "Come on, let me see your fighting skills. I can tell you frankly, I received apprentice knight training from a young age, and I've never neglected it since."
"As Beyonder, if I can't even beat an ordinary man who has only received training, then I'm not human!" Klein muttered, without taking off his double-breasted suit, he put away his revolver, took two steps to the side, and gestured to Talym that they could begin.
He had intended to beckon with his finger to create some atmosphere, but considering the other party's strength, he decided against wasting his energy.
Talym was quite excited about this, jumped a few times on the spot, and then strode forward, throwing a right hook.
Klein blocked and grabbed with his left hand, then smoothly crouched down, twisted his waist, and extended his right palm to execute a back throw.
With a thud, Talym flew out, landing on his back— Klein hadn't exerted any force at the end, but had simply used inertia to fling him away from his body.
"Impressive!" Talym quickly stood up and gave a thumbs up. "As expected of the renowned Detective, your marksmanship and hand-to-hand combat are both outstanding."
"I only defeated a weakling like you. Where did you get the idea that my fighting skills are high?" Klein thought to himself, then asked with a smile:
Now that we understand, can you tell me what kind of request your friend wants to make?
"Heh, he'll be at the club soon, you two can chat." Talym rubbed his back. "I don't know the specifics of the request. By the way, he's a journalist, Mike Joseph, from the Daily Observer. He's probably hoping for short-term protection."
"Okay." Klein didn't ask any more questions and continued practicing shooting, but not just with revolvers, but also with shotguns, single-shot rifles, and automatic rifles, so that he could quickly get his hands on any firearms around him in the future.
Around midnight, he went back downstairs, entered the buffet restaurant, and got a roast chicken, a pan-fried short rib, and the club's limited-edition cream cheese baked lobster.
After setting these things out, Klein then brought out Feynapotter seafood paella, fruit salad, oyster consommé, and Marquis tea.
Faced with this sumptuous lunch, he couldn't help but swallow hard and silently praise the goddess in his heart.
If we ate out, this meal would probably cost 3 Soli... Klein used the silver knife, fork, and spoon alternately, eating with great satisfaction.
Just as he finished the food on the table, Talym Dumont led over a man wearing a heavy coat and a top hat.
" Detective Moriarty, this is the friend I was talking about, Mike Joseph Mike, this is the famous Detective, Mr. Sherlock Moriarty," Talym with a smile, introducing the two.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Mike took off his hat and bowed.
He appeared to be close to thirty years old, with sparse eyebrows, rather rough skin, and unusually prominent pores.
However, his features are quite good, his blue eyes are especially captivating, and with his neat little mustache, he has a mature charm.
Klein couldn't help but touch the thicker stubble around his lips, stood up to invite the other person to sit down, and said with a smile:
"The lobster baked with cream cheese today was pretty good, you guys should try it."
"Okay." Mike Joseph didn't refuse, took the tray, went around, and took a lot of food.
"He was in a hurry to get here and hasn't had lunch yet," Talym said with a smile, explaining on behalf of his friend, and placed a stack of newspapers on the table.
"I can tell." Klein set down his knife and fork, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and leisurely sipped his black tea.
He thoroughly enjoyed his meal.
Just then, Mike Joseph returned with two plates of food, quickly ate a few bites to fill his stomach, and then looked up at Klein:
" Detective Moriarty, have you heard about the recent serial murders?"
"Remove the internal organs?" Klein's heart skipped a beat, and he asked briefly.
Talym, standing nearby, nodded and remarked with a sigh:
"Sure enough, every Detective is paying close attention to this serial murder case."
Mike then pulled out one of the newspapers and pushed it towards Klein: "This is the latest report."
Klein took a look and discovered it was from the Daily Observer, where Mike worked. Their front-page headline read:
"11! Another woman murdered! Sivellaus Yard is helpless!"
--The Backlund Police Department's headquarters are located on West Balam Street on the edge of Queens Borough, hence their nickname " Sivellaus Yard ".
11? The 11th case already? Klein resisted the urge to frown and read on with a puzzled look. He found that it was indeed the same as the case he had encountered before: the target was a woman, all wearing brightly colored long dresses, and their internal organs had been removed by disembowelment.
This case clearly shows signs of Devil worship. The Sivellaus Yard must have already handed it over to the Nighthawks, the Mandated Punishers, or the Machinery Hivemind team. They have Divination Divination, Spirit Channeling Spirit Channeling, and all sorts of unique and effective extraordinary methods. How come the case hasn't been solved yet, and the Criminal hasn't been caught? Does that guy have extensive "counter-investigation" abilities, damaging the victim's soul? Or perhaps, the victim's soul, along with their internal organs, was taken away as part of Devil ritual? Hmm, he can definitely interfere with Divination... That makes sense; if Beyonder with the " Devil " pathway didn't have similar abilities, how could they dare to commit serial killings... Klein said thoughtfully to Mike Joseph:
"You want to conduct a private investigation?"
"I'm sorry, I can't take this case. Without an invitation from the police, I can't take it. I need to maintain a good relationship with them."
"A so-called good relationship is just someone who invites me to the police station for tea..." Klein muttered to himself.
His real reason for refusing was that getting involved in the investigation of this serial murder case would easily run into the Beyonder in the government, perhaps including the Nighthawks of the Church of the Goddess in Backlund.
"No, it's not an investigation, no, to be precise, it's not an investigation to find the killer. I just want to finish my reporting," Mike Joseph explained after swallowing the shrimp.
"A report?" Klein put down his white glazed porcelain teacup, clasped his hands together, and asked casually.
Mike Joseph said:
"If you buy the Daily Observer tomorrow or the day after, you will see my in-depth coverage of this serial murder case, the most important part of which is to reveal the commonalities among the victims and to warn similar groups of people to be vigilant."
"Hmm, what do they have in common?" Klein asked curiously.
Mike took a sip of coffee and said, "Besides being women and wearing brightly colored long dresses, there's another very important thing in common. I did some in-depth research into the victims' professions and discovered something interesting."
"Some of them were maids, some were textile workers, some were tailors, and some were schoolgirls. On the surface, they had nothing in common, but in reality, they had all worked as streetwalkers."
"A streetwalker? A female teacher?" Klein asked, slightly taken aback.
In the Kingdom of Loen, teachers are part of the middle class, and their minimum wage is £2 a week, enough for a lady to live comfortably. She has absolutely no need to become a streetwalker.
Mike twitched the corner of his mouth and sighed:
"In the past, before they found work that could support them, they may have all experienced very difficult times."
"I did a survey before, and in Backlund, one in six women aged 15 to 55 were either currently working as or had been streetwalkers. Ha, this is our country. All foreigners who come here are surprised that such a conservative country, such a bustling metropolis, is full of streetwalkers." (Note 1)
This data is a bit exaggerated... If it's true, it just shows that reality is even more outrageous than fiction... This damn world... Klein clicked his tongue in astonishment, thought for a moment, and deliberately said:
"One problem is, how did the killer know the victims had worked as prostitutes? They didn't have any labels on them, and you need to conduct a thorough investigation to find out."
"As expected of a great Detective, this might be the clue," Mike Joseph replied, unsurprised.
No, if he's Beyonder has followed the " Devil " path, then his selection criteria might be those who appear to Depravity Depravity but not completely. They should have a keen intuition for Depravity, perhaps able to directly perceive the corresponding deeper "colors." Add to that the trigger point of a brightly colored long dress, and the target is essentially locked in... Klein answered himself mentally, then asked:
"So, what else do you want to investigate?"
Mike nodded and said:
"Of these 11 cases, 10 women had worked as streetwalkers, but one didn't. She's still a prostitute now—the youngest, only 16-year-old Shermane. It's very strange, very strange. I want to go to ' Golden Rose,' the place where she, uh, works, to do a thorough investigation and see if I can find anything."
"I'm worried that asking questions will anger the people there, so I'm asking you to protect me for a short time. You don't need to teach them a lesson, just protect me and help me escape at the most crucial moment."
"If nothing happens, I'll give you a pound; if there's a fight, it'll be five pounds. What's your opinion?"
Klein smiled and said:
I'll go wash my hands and then get back to you.
He bowed politely, strolled slowly to the restroom, then tossed a coin and received a positive answer.
Note 1: This is a statistic about London from the late Victorian era.