After waiting for more than half an hour and confirming that there were no unexpected situations, Klein and Emlyn White left the Lawyer Jurgen's house, each lost in their own thoughts, and soon arrived outside 15 Minsk Street.
Emlyn the Vampire clenched his fist against his mouth and coughed lightly, saying:
"The payment has been made. I hope we will never have the chance to meet again."
That's a pretty sophisticated statement, but Mr. White, have you forgotten something important? Klein smiled politely:
"I will visit Bishop Utravsky occasionally, and I hope you won't be at the Harvest Church then."
"And I won't have to busy myself finding ways to break free from Psychological Suggestion for you."
Emlyn White's expression immediately became quite strange. He remained silent for two seconds before raising his chin and saying:
"We Sanguine have many powerful Mystic; I will write to them seeking their help."
After saying this, he placed his hand on his chest, bowed, and took his leave.
He turned and took a few steps, then suddenly slowed down, turned his head, and hesitantly asked:
"What are you doing?"
"Beef bone and radish soup, served with rice and the kind of chili peppers that are a specialty of the Feynapotter Plateau," Klein said expectantly, breathing in the aroma wafting from the room.
Emlyn frowned and shook his head, saying:
"Chili peppers are not in the Sanguine's aesthetic sphere."
To be honest, I find it hard to imagine Vampire eating chili peppers. Of course, I sometimes fantasize about Vampire eating a white steamed bun while munching on garlic and green onions... Klein muttered to himself, pointed to the door, and indicated that he was about to have dinner.
Emlyn White considered for a second, then lowered his voice and carefully said:
"I thought about it for a long time last night and realized that you haven't actually done anything, so why are you asking for payment? That Old Man could make me leave at any time."
Klein chuckled:
"No, that's not how it works. The task your parents entrusted to you was to find you, not to rescue you. In the end, I was the one who found you, so according to the agreement, the reward should rightfully belong to me."
"Furthermore, without my reminder, you might have remained in the Harvest Church for weeks or even months before realizing you were free to leave, without even realizing you were being Psychological Suggestion at."
"Are you implying my intelligence?" Emlyn's face Distortion slightly.
No, to put it bluntly... Klein smiled and didn't say anything more. He Door Opening door and went into the house, heading straight to the kitchen. His mind was filled with the clear and tempting soup, the white rice, the tender yet chewy beef, the marrow hidden deep in the bones, the sweet and refreshing radish with the aroma of meat, and the chopped Feynapotter Plateau peppers.
Among those fiery red fragments, there were also sprinkles of pink rose salt and green Balam coriander leaves.
On Thursday morning, Klein arrived at the cheap coffee shop in the East Borough as agreed.
Old Kohler, still wearing his old thick jacket, sat in the corner, sipping a piece of black bread with tea that was barely tasting of tea.
Klein walked up to him, took out something he had prepared beforehand, and pushed it towards him.
The funds consisted of two 5- Soli, four 1- Soli notes, and a handful of copper pennies specifically used to enhance the effect.
Old Kohler stared at them for a long while before reaching out his right hand and taking them with trembling hands.
He examined it closely, wiped his eyes, and forced a smile, saying:
"At the docks, we hauled heavy cargo and waded through icy, dirty water to do tedious cleaning, earning only about 1 Soli a day..."
And there are a full 15 Soli here!
Klein listened silently, and after a few seconds spoke:
Have you heard anything recently? What have you noticed?
Old Kohler put away the funds, took another sip of tea, pinched the corner of his eye, and said:
"I met many dockworkers and reconnected with friends I knew from my days as a homeless person. Some of them went to work in factories, while others continued to wander between workhouses and park corners, just like I used to..."
"Recently, a claim has come from somewhere that since we believe in one of the Seven Gods, why don't we pray directly to the Creator who is the source? It is said that He is in everyone's body and in all things, and has not truly passed away."
"Praying to Him will bring us salvation, not only allowing us to enter His Kingdom after death, but also giving us a better life in this life. For example, we won't need to work so hard, and we can have cream and sizzling meat every day."
This... Aurora Order spreading a variant of the Creator theory? After what happened with Lanarvus, they started paying attention to the East Borough, the Dock Borough, and the poor in the East Borough, hoping to use them to achieve certain goals? I wonder if the three major churches have noticed this phenomenon... they probably have... Klein sandwiched the butter between two slices of toast and took a bite without knowing what it tasted like.
After rambling on for a while, Old Kohler said:
" Detective, as you instructed, I have been keeping an eye on the textile workers. In the end, with the police joining in, their resistance failed, but, well, those who led them became the factory supervisors, and a third of them lost their jobs."
"Some of them are actively looking for new jobs, some have become street prostitutes, and some have disappeared without a trace. The entire East Borough is in chaos."
If this was the situation when " Admiral Hurricane " Qilangos came to Backlund, then he could have come to the East Borough every day and secretly killed one or two people without anyone noticing or paying attention... Klein sighed inwardly.
After recounting some of his daily observations, Old Kohler continued:
"By the way, Liv's youngest daughter is missing."
" Liv?" Klein confirmed that he had never heard of this name before.
Old Kohler then realized and said:
"It's that laundry worker you and the reporter met last time, the one who was arguing with someone. She's always been doing laundry at home with her two daughters, but yesterday, one of her daughters got lost on her way back from delivering clothes. It's so pitiful. She's been a widow for so many years, relying on her two daughters, and now... sigh, the police in the East Borough probably won't put in much effort to look for her."
Unfortunate people often suffer even greater misfortunes because they lack the ability to resist risks and change their circumstances... This thought suddenly flashed through Klein's mind.
He remained silent for a few seconds, as if carved by a stone, and then said:
"Take me to see them. I'm a Detective; perhaps I can help them find someone."
"... They don't have any money," Old Kohler reminded him.
Klein picked up his hat and cane and said:
I also do volunteer work occasionally.
Inside the house where the two women used to live in the Cherwood Borough.
Hugh resumed his life as a bounty Hunter, while Fors accelerated the progress of his new book, hoping to quickly save enough money for the extraordinary materials needed for " The Trickmaster ".
But writing a book isn't something you can just do because you want to. Fors scratched his head in frustration and decided to go for a walk to find Spirit Intuition.
As she walked, she found herself unknowingly returning to a familiar place.
Diagonally in front of her is the Yousef Clinic, where she first worked, a fairly large private clinic.
After gazing for a while, Fors thought of the old lady who had led him into the extraordinary world, so he turned into the alley on the right and took a shortcut to a nearby street.
The street is lined with plane trees whose leaves flutter in the breeze, making it a relatively quiet place.
Fors remembered that the old lady lived in house number 39—she used to occasionally come to deliver medicine or give injections, and even help with some daily chores.
"It's been almost three years. That place should have been rented out again by now, maybe even changed tenants several times... I remember when I came to sort through the belongings, I found a lot of Record my insights into the occult..." Fors walked under the sycamore tree with hardly any leaves left, slowly approaching the house at number 39.
Recalling her past experiences, she gradually gained some Spirit Intuition for writing.
Just then, she saw an elderly man wearing a heavy woolen overcoat and a top black hat standing at the door of house number 39, ringing the doorbell three times.
Several minutes passed, and still no one Door Opening. The elderly man with Blue Eyes shook his head, turned around, and muttered in confusion:
Still no one...
He suddenly noticed Fors standing not far away, looking in their direction, and quickly strode over, smiling gently yet urgently:
"Beautiful lady, do you live in this neighborhood? Do you know Labol and Anlisa?"
Anlisa? Isn't that the old lady's name? Has this house been empty lately? Fors said cautiously:
"I don't know if the Mrs. Anlisa I know is the one you're looking for. She lived here for a long time, but passed away three years ago."
"He passed away three years ago? What about Labol?" the elderly man, whose eyes were slightly wrinkled, asked hastily.
"Her husband died before her," Fors answered honestly.
The old man was stunned for a moment, then a sad expression appeared on his face.
He paused for a moment and then said:
Thank you, kind lady.
"I am Labol's brother, and I have been living in the Awwa County. I decided to come and visit because I hadn't received any letters from them in a long time."
"Could you tell me about what they went through during those years?"
Could Mrs. Anlisa's husband's brother... be a descendant of the family she mentioned? Fors suddenly realized, and smiled in response:
"No problem."
She quickly considered what she could say and what she couldn't.
The old man pointed to his side and said:
There's a nice coffee shop there.
In the East Borough, inside a slightly dilapidated apartment building, Klein once again stepped into that damp room.
He saw the same fierce woman who had argued with the streetwalker last time, disdainful of her profession, standing among the pile of clothes. Her face, now wrinkled, had lost its luster, its energy for work, and her spirit was gone.
Her eldest daughter, the seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl who had been squatting in front of the basin washing clothes last time, sat by the bed, sobbing continuously:
"It's my fault, it's all my fault, I didn't watch her properly..."
I shouldn't have taken her through the secluded alley.
She also said she wanted to learn a few more words at the free school tonight...
"It's my fault, it's all my fault..."
Liv, the laundry worker, suddenly snapped out of her daze, turned to look at her eldest daughter, and, wiping away her sorrowful expression, said fiercely:
"What are you crying for? Get up and do the laundry!"
Do you want to go hungry? Do you want to miss out on free school?
After she finished yelling, she noticed Klein and Old Kohler standing by the door.
" Old Kohler... and who is this?" she asked, puzzled.
P. S.: Requesting votes on Monday! Also, Happy Mid-Autumn Festival everyone!