Thump! Thump! Thump!
Klein's heart suddenly began pounding violently. It contracted into a tight knot, then swelled forcefully, making his body tremble slightly along with it.
For a moment, he almost forgot what he wanted to do or ought to do, until the intruder suddenly paused and tilted his ear slightly, as though he had heard something change.
The "blood" drained from his head, and Klein regained his basic ability to think. He reached beneath his pillow and gripped the revolver's wooden handle.
The hard, smooth sensation quickly steadied his emotions. With slow, silent movements, he drew the handgun and aimed it at the intruder's head.
Honestly, he had no confidence whatsoever that he could hit the man. Although he had already been able to hit the target consistently before, a moving person and a stationary target were entirely different things. He was not so arrogant as to confuse the two.
However, he vaguely remembered a saying from his previous life. Its general meaning was that a nuclear bomb was only at its most powerful before it was launched.
At this time, in these circumstances, the same principle applied. The greatest deterrent existed before the bullet was fired!
If he did not pull the trigger or fire blindly, the man would not know for certain that he was a novice who would most likely miss him. He would worry, he would fear, he would consider all sorts of things, to the point of placing restraints on himself!
In an instant, one thought after another surfaced, allowing Klein to make his decision immediately. He was not the sort who grew calmer as danger mounted; rather, he had already imagined encountering the watcher and had planned to rely on intimidation instead of attacking.
The great nation of foodies had an idiom: preparedness averted calamity!
When Klein aimed his gun at the intruder, the thin man abruptly froze, seemingly sensing something.
Immediately afterward, he heard a voice tinged with a chuckle:
"Good evening, sir."
The thin man quietly clenched his hands, his body seeming to tense. Sitting on the bottom bunk, Klein aimed the gun at his head and spoke in as relaxed and natural a tone as he could manage:
"Please raise your hands and turn around, as slowly as possible. Frankly, I'm a timid person who gets nervous easily. If you move too fast, you'll frighten me, and I can't guarantee that I won't accidentally fire. Yes, just like that."
The thin man held his hands halfway up beside his head and turned around little by little. The first thing that entered Klein's sight was a tight black outfit with neatly fastened buttons, followed by a pair of thick, sharply angled brownish-yellow eyebrows.
Klein could see no fear in his azure eyes. Instead, he felt as though a vicious beast were staring at him, as though the slightest carelessness would make the man pounce on him and tear him to pieces.
His grip on the gun tightened, and he did his utmost to keep his expression calm and composed.
Only when the thin man faced him fully did he lift his chin toward the doorway and say gently:
"Sir, let's talk outside. We shouldn't disturb anyone else's sweet dreams. Yes, move a little slower and keep your footsteps light. That is the most basic courtesy of a gentleman..."
The thin man's cold eyes shifted, sweeping over Klein. Still holding his hands halfway up, he walked toward the door one step at a time.
With the revolver trained on him, he turned the handle and slowly opened the door.
Just as the door was halfway open, he abruptly crouched and rolled forward. As though pulled by a gale, the door slammed shut again with a bang.
"Mm..." Startled by the loud noise, Benson stirred groggily in the upper bunk, on the verge of waking.
Just then, a melodious, tranquil tune drifted in from outside, and a deep, soothing voice chanted:
"Ah, threats of fear and crimson hopes!
One thing at least was certain: this life flew.
One thing was certain, and the rest were lies,
The flower that once had bloomed would die forever..." (Note 1)
The poem seemed to possess the power to relax and soothe. Benson in the upper bunk, Melissa in the inner room, and the others drifted groggily back to sleep.
Klein felt peaceful in both body and mind and nearly yawned.
The thin man's escape had been so nimble that he had not even had time to react.
Looking at the closed door, he smiled faintly and murmured to himself:
"You might not believe me, but this chamber was actually empty."
An empty chamber to guard against accidental discharge!
After that, Klein listened to the midnight poetry and waited patiently for the battle outside to end.
In less than a minute, the melody, as peaceful as a moonlit lake, stopped, and the night returned to the deepest silence.
Klein silently rotated the cylinder, moving the empty chamber aside, and waited for the outcome.
Ten minutes passed. Just as he grew uneasy and began hesitating over whether to go outside and investigate, Dunn Smith's steady, gentle voice finally came from the doorway:
"It's settled."
Phew. Klein exhaled, held his revolver ready, picked up his keys, and carefully approached the door barefoot. He opened it without a sound and stepped out, seeing Dunn Smith standing opposite him, his black trench coat reaching his knees, his half top hat undisturbed, and his gray eyes deep.
Closing the door behind him, he followed Dunn to the end of the corridor and stood in the faint crimson moonlight.
"It took some time to enter his dream," Dunn said calmly, gazing at the red moon outside the window.
"Did you find out where he came from?" Klein relaxed considerably.
Dunn nodded slightly.
"An ancient organization called the Secret Order. They were established in the Fourth Epoch and had ties to the Solomon Empire and some of the fallen nobles of that time. Heh, the Antigonus Family's notebook came from them. It only entered the antiquities market and ended up in Welch's hands because of one member's negligence. They had no choice but to send people searching everywhere."
Without waiting for Klein to ask, he paused, then continued:
"We'll follow the clues back and arrest some of their members. Hmm, the results may not be particularly good. These fellows are as adept at hiding as rats in the sewers. But at least this will make them realize that the Antigonus Family's notebook has very likely fallen into our hands, or that we have obtained crucial clues. In that case, as long as it isn't something extremely crucial and important, they'll abandon the operation entirely. That's their philosophy of survival."
"...What if the notebook is extremely crucial and important?" Klein asked worriedly.
Dunn smiled without answering. Instead, he said:
"We know very little about the Secret Order. This success was largely thanks to your quick thinking, and you deserve credit for it. Taking into account the possible hidden dangers, as well as how heightened spiritual intuition would help in finding the notebook, you have an opportunity to choose."
"An opportunity to choose?" Klein vaguely guessed something, and his breathing unconsciously grew heavier.
Dunn's smile faded, his expression becoming solemn and serious.
"Do you wish to become a Beyonder? One who can only choose a starting point from the incomplete Sequences."
"Of course, you can also forgo this opportunity and choose to accumulate merit until it is enough to let you become a Sleepless-the starting point of the night guardians bestowed by the Goddess herself, the beginning of the complete Sequence the Church possesses."
Just as I thought... Joy stirred in Klein's heart. Feeling no hesitation for the moment, he took the initiative to ask:
"Which Sequence 9s can I choose from, then?"
I need detailed information before I can decide whether to decline or accept, and which one to choose!
Dunn turned around, draped in the falling crimson "veil," and looked into Klein's eyes as he slowly said:
"Apart from Sleepless, the Church has three Sequence 9 potion formulas. One is called Mystery Pryer, which grants the abilities Old Neil possesses. Heh, Rozanne must have mentioned it to you. She can never keep her mouth shut."
Klein smiled awkwardly, unsure how to answer. Fortunately, Dunn did not mind and continued:
"Our Mystery Pryer potion formula and some of its nonconsecutive later formulas came from the Moss Ascetic Order. Back then, they supposedly hadn't fallen yet. They still upheld morals and precepts, pursued knowledge, and strictly maintained secrecy. After becoming Mystery Pryers, all who joined had to refrain from speaking for five years and learn silence, so they could practice and improve their concentration. The Mystery Pryer maxim 'Do as you will, but do no harm' originated with them."
"Mystery Pryers have a comprehensive but preliminary understanding and grasp of mystical knowledge, such as magic, witchcraft, and astrology. They know quite a few forms of ritualistic magic, but they can very easily perceive certain beings hidden behind things. They must be extremely cautious and remain in awe of Beyonder powers."
"We lack most of this Sequence, leaving scattered pieces that cannot form a chain-for instance, its Sequence 8. Of course, the Holy Cathedral might have it."
This meets almost all my requirements... Klein nodded slightly, feeling an urge to choose it.
Fortunately, he still remembered the other options:
"What about the other two?"
"The second is called Corpse Collector. Quite a few of those cultists who worship Death on the Southern Continent choose it. After drinking this potion, unintelligent undead will mistake you for their own kind and spare you from attack. You can withstand cold, decay, and the corrosion of the aura of death, directly see certain evil spirits, understand the characteristics and weaknesses of many undead creatures, and gain some improvement in your physical abilities. We possess its subsequent Sequence 8 and Sequence 7. Heh heh, you should be able to guess its Sequence 7: Spirit Medium! This was Daly's choice back then," Dunn explained in considerable detail.
A Spirit Medium certainly seems both mysterious and cool, but what I want most is a grasp of mysticism... Klein did not interrupt and listened quietly.
Dunn Smith turned his head to glance at the crimson moonlight.
"For the third, we only have Sequence 9. Whether the Holy Cathedral has anything else tucked away, I don't know. It's called Seer."
Seer? Klein's pupils contracted slightly as he recalled the regret Emperor Roselle had recorded in his diary:
He had regretted not choosing from Apprentice, Marauder, and Seer back then!
Note 1: Adapted from Edward FitzGerald's English translation of The Rubaiyat.