Old Kohler seemed a little intimidated by the other party's fierceness and unconsciously took a step back.
" Liv, this is a Detective. He wants to help you find Daisy."
Liv, her face marked with wrinkles and peeling skin, turned to Klein and said coldly:
We have already called the police.
She may only be in her thirties, but she looks like she's close to fifty.
Klein looked around the room, which was filled with wet clothes. He vaguely remembered that the last time he came here, there was a girl of about thirteen or fourteen years old. She was carefully using a simple, crude homemade iron to work on the wrinkled clothes after they had dried. Her hands had many burn marks.
She is the "lost" Daisy... Klein looked back at the laundry worker Liv and said in a cold, emotionless tone:
Do you believe the police in the East Borough will genuinely put their hearts into finding Daisy?
Are you sure those people who caused Daisy's 'disappearance' won't turn their attention to your family?
"Do you want to lose another daughter after losing one?"
Cruel yet piercing words reached the ears of Liv, the laundry worker. The cold expression on her face crumbled little by little. She opened her mouth, but couldn't say anything, and her eyes gradually reddened.
She suddenly buried her head, muttering to herself in pain and despair:
"I have no money..."
The room fell silent for a moment; even the sobbing girl stopped crying.
Klein pursed his lips and silently exhaled, saying:
"I occasionally do volunteer work, purely to help others. Haha, it's been a long time since I've done it, please give me a chance."
"Volunteer?" Liv looked up, chewing on the word.
Klein nodded slightly and said:
"This commission is free, no, not entirely free. Acts of kindness bring me great satisfaction."
"Since you have no other choice, why not give it a try?"
Liv paused for a moment, then raised her hand, wrinkled and swollen from prolonged immersion in water, wiped her eyes, and said in a low voice:
" Detective, you are such a kind and gentle gentleman..."
Her voice suddenly choked up:
"... Here's what happened: the day before yesterday at noon, Freja led Daisy to return a batch of washed clothes. It was just outside the East Borough, and they had to go through several streets."
"In order to get back for lunch, Freja chose a quiet alley, but she was not paying attention for a moment and found that Daisy, who was following behind her, was gone."
She retraced her steps to search, but never found her, and Daisy never returned.
" Freja, where was that?"
The girl named Freja had stood up, her eyes red and swollen.
She said, sobbing:
"Right here, right here in Broken Axe Lane, Detective, will Daisy be alright?"
"Sure," Klein replied expressionlessly.
He looked around a few times, then asked:
"Do you have any of Daisy's usual items? I can borrow a police dog; it has an excellent sense of smell and can track a target by following their scent."
"... No." Liv, the laundry worker, thought for a moment and said sadly.
The young girl Freja burst into tears again, feeling that things had once again reached a dead end.
Suddenly, she blinked and said:
Yes, there is one.
" Daisy's vocabulary book!"
"A vocabulary book?" Old Kohler asked rhetorically from the side.
Liv sniffed and said:
"I have Freja and Daisy attending free evening school, and I can always do laundry, but they... they can't always do that."
"What a wonderful mother this lady is..." Klein couldn't help but remark.
Free schools are night schools established by the three major churches or certain charitable organizations, with classes from 8 pm to 10 pm. They are completely free of charge and even provide writing tools and some paper for free. They are literacy-oriented education, and at most, they may touch on some religious knowledge. Old Neil once taught at the free school of the Evernight Goddess for several years, and Klein heard some of his experiences from him.
Because there were very few volunteers to teach at the free school, a unique teaching model developed there: teachers would arrive early, gather the top students who were progressing best, and impart the day's content to them. These students would then be responsible for teaching different classes, while the teachers would circulate and correct any mistakes. This system was known as the "mentor system."
In addition to free schools, there are also free organizations such as technical worker training centers, which are among the few channels that the truly poor can access and escape their social class.
Unfortunately, there are too few such organizations, which is a drop in the ocean and can hardly play a substantial role.
At this moment, Freja added, sobbing:
Daisy loves learning and has been chosen by the teacher to be a tutor for her class. She keeps the papers with copied words together, and sleeps with them under her pillow and hugs them every night. Then she gets up early and goes outside to recite the words in the morning light. She always regrets that there are no streetlights nearby...
As she spoke, Freja rushed back to the bunk bed and pulled a stack of crumpled papers from under the tattered pillow.
Because of the long-term exposure to a damp environment, the words copied on it have become somewhat blurred.
The edges of the paper were worn, as if it had been handled and turned over many times.
" Detective, is it... is it okay?" Freja handed the so-called vocabulary book, which wasn't even bound, to Klein with both hands, and then asked expectantly.
"Yes," Klein replied succinctly.
He wasn't trying to comfort Freja. Although such items weren't the kind you carried around, they were always with the target and reflected the other person's strong beliefs, making them excellent material for finding people using the Dowsing Rod Method.
He casually flipped through the vocabulary book and said:
"Then I'll get started. The sooner we find Daisy, the better."
Liv and Freja couldn't find the words to describe their feelings, so they could only watch Klein and Old Kohler leave, repeatedly saying "thank you," "thank you, Detective," and "thank you, kind gentleman."
As they left the apartment, Klein turned to Old Kohler and said:
"Keep an eye on those unemployed female textile workers lately, especially those who haven't found new jobs and haven't become streetwalkers. Pay particular attention to those who seem to have disappeared..."
"Take care of yourself, ask fewer questions and listen more. If you do this well, there will be a bonus."
"Good!" Old Kohler nodded emphatically.
He didn't take his leave immediately; after a moment's hesitation, he asked in a tone full of expectation:
" Detective, you're sure you can find Daisy, right?"
"All I can say is I'll do my best," Klein, offering no guarantees.
Old Kohler sighed and gave a bitter smile:
"I lost my own child, so this is the last thing I want to see..."
He waved and walked toward another street.
Klein left at a leisurely pace, covering the head of his cane with Daisy's "vocabulary book" along the way, thus completing a "divination stick search" without attracting attention.
There's a result, slightly northwest... It's temporarily impossible to confirm whether there was any interference or misdirection... He looked down at the direction the cane was about to fall and reached out to catch it.
Following the instructions, Klein left the East Borough and hired a horse-drawn carriage.
About half an hour later, the carriage, which occasionally changed direction, stopped on Iris Street near the West Borough of the Cherwood Borough, in front of a house with a vast lawn, a wide garden, a small fountain plaza, and marble statues.
At this moment, inside the carriage, Klein's cane had fallen to the ground, pointing straight at that spot!
Through the window, Klein could see guards patrolling back and forth inside the iron gate, along with vicious dogs with their tongues lolling out.
Security there is extremely tight.
More importantly, even without Divination, relying solely on his Spirituality intuition, he could detect the considerable danger hidden within!
Where is this place? How could Daisy's disappearance be connected to such a dangerous place? Klein pondered for a few seconds, then instructed the driver to continue onward.
The coachman responded with slight surprise:
"Sir, aren't you here to visit Mr. Capim?"
Capim Klein found the name very familiar.
He smiled and countered with a question:
Why do you think that?
"People often come from the East Borough and ride my carriage here. Hehe, this is the home of the wealthy Mr. Capim," the coachman replied casually.
East Borough... Capim... Tycoon... Klein suddenly remembered who this Capim was:
In many rumors, he is the head of a bloodthirsty criminal gang, linked to numerous disappearances of innocent young girls!
In reality, he is a wealthy man who knows many important figures.
Klein said nothing more, leaned back against the wall, and half-closed his eyes.
The carriage moved slowly forward, and the luxurious villa swept past and disappeared through the glass windows.
Inside a small booth in a coffee shop.
Fors already knew that the old man opposite him was named Lawrence Nold, from City of Constant, Awwa County, and was a public school teacher.
He didn't know Mrs. Anlisa's husband was dead, nor did he know that Mrs. Anlisa had inherited her estate and become Beyonder, let alone that Mrs. Anlisa would leave her belongings to me... Could he also be Beyonder? Does he possess the ability of Divination? Fors took a sip of his Fresher coffee, organizing his thoughts as he spoke:
"I used to be Doctor at the nearby Yousef Clinic, and Mrs. Anlisa was a frequent patient there. At that time, her husband, Mr. Labol, had already passed away..."
"... I would occasionally talk to her and help her with things, such as..."
"Therefore, she finally made a will, leaving her savings and cash to me, and donating her jewelry, books, furniture, and other belongings to charitable organizations, with the execution of this will be overseen by Lawyer firm she designated."
Fors was telling the truth, but not all of it.
Lawrence rubbed his forehead and said:
"It's such a shame, I can't understand why Anlisa didn't contact me during those years."
"She didn't mention your name, and there was a hint of displeasure towards Mr. Labol's relatives," Fors replied frankly.
Lawrence paused for a moment and then said:
"Thank you for telling me; it has helped me understand some things."
"By the way, where are Labol and Anlisa buried?"
" Green Cemetery." Fors took out his pocket watch from his bag, glanced at it, and said, "Mr. Lawrence, I have other matters to attend to; I should be leaving."
Lawrence did not stop them, and got up to see them off.
After sitting down again, he rubbed his temples in distress and muttered to himself:
" Labol is dead, without children, and we don't know where Anlisa took his Beyonder Characteristic... Richard died at the hands of the Aurora Order... Sam doesn't want to contact us, doesn't want to bear the responsibility of the surname..."
Is the Abraham Family truly destined to slowly perish like this?