Leonard's chanting was like a lullaby, echoing softly between the doors on either side and through the winding wooden staircase.
Klein's mind immediately grew hazy. He seemed to see quiet moonlight and the peaceful, gently rippling surface of a lake.
His eyelids quickly grew heavy, as though he could fall asleep standing up.
Amid that blurred awareness, he once again felt an invisible, uncanny, indifferent gaze from behind, just as he did when roaming the Spirit World.
An inexplicable sense of familiarity arose. Klein abruptly recovered his thoughts and, relying on his powerful Spirit Intuition and the meditation he knew so intimately, barely shook off the effects of that "Midnight Poem."
But he remained tranquil in body and mind, unable to muster any other emotion.
Soon, Leonard stopped chanting, turned his head, and said with a smile:
"I'm considering applying for a Feynapotter lyre. How can chanting go without accompaniment?"
"Heh, just joking. I heard them all fall asleep."
The black-haired, green-eyed Nighthawk with a poet's air strode toward the door of the room containing the kidnappers and their hostage.
He suddenly swung his shoulder, snapped out a fist, and struck the lock.
Crack!
The wood around the lock shattered with a very faint sound.
"This requires precise control." Leonard turned back to joke as he reached through the hole and opened the door.
Klein, who had regained his clarity, was not nearly as confident. He reached beneath his arm, drew his revolver, and adjusted the cylinder to ensure he could fire immediately.
As the door swung inward, he saw one man asleep over the table, a pistol lying at his feet, and another rubbing his eyes groggily, trying to stand.
Thump!
Leonard slid forward and knocked out the kidnapper who was about to wake.
Klein was just about to follow him inside when he seemed to sense something. He spun around to face the stairs.
Tap, tap, tap. Footsteps rose from below, growing clearer. A man in a brown coat, without a hat, rounded the bend in the stairs, carrying a paper bag of bread as he headed toward the third floor.
Suddenly, he stopped. He saw a metallic gun muzzle looking down at him.
Reflected in his pupils were a young man wearing a half top hat of silk, a formal black suit, and a matching bow tie, the cane the young man had leaned against the railing, and that dangerous revolver.
"Stop everything you're doing and raise your hands. Three, two..." Klein spoke in a low, measured voice.
He held the revolver in both hands, trying to treat the man as a practice target.
Amid the tense atmosphere, the man in the brown coat dropped the bag of bread and slowly raised his hands.
"Sir, might there be some misunderstanding?" He stared fixedly at Klein's finger on the trigger and forced a slight smile.
Klein could not yet tell whether he was an accomplice of the kidnappers or a neighbor, but he betrayed nothing as he said in a low voice:
"Don't try to resist. Someone will come to determine whether this is a misunderstanding."
At that moment, Leonard emerged after dealing with the kidnappers inside. He glanced at the man at the bend in the stairs and said leisurely:
"So the kidnappers had another accomplice, responsible for support and buying food?"
Hearing this, the pupils of the man in the brown coat contracted. He suddenly kicked the bag of bread in front of him into the air, trying to block Klein's view.
Klein seemed unaffected. As though he were practicing, he calmly pulled the trigger.
Bang!
A spray of blood burst from the man's left shoulder.
He rolled with the momentum and was about to flee toward the second floor, but Leonard had already braced a hand against the railing and vaulted down.
With a muffled thud, Leonard dropped from above and landed on the man.
The man lost consciousness. Leonard brushed at the few bloodstains he had picked up, looked up at Klein, and chuckled:
"Not bad shooting."
I was aiming for his leg... The corner of Klein's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly, and he caught the faint scent of blood.
He discovered that, although taking the Seer potion had not improved his sight, hearing, or sense of touch, he could still "see" things hidden from view and "hear" faint footsteps, allowing him to make judgments ahead of time.
Does this fall under Spirit Intuition? Klein nodded thoughtfully, watching Leonard search the kidnappers' accomplice and find a sharp dagger, then "drag" him into the room.
With his gun in one hand and cane in the other, Klein entered the kidnappers' room. He saw Elliott Vickroy, awakened by the gunshot, uncurl his body and slowly sit up.
Leonard had tightly bound the original three kidnappers with the ropes they had used on Elliott, strung them together, and dumped them in a corner-where there was not enough rope, he had torn up their clothes to substitute.
The man shot in the shoulder was being bandaged while unconscious, but Leonard found it too filthy and had not helped him remove the bullet.
"You... who are you?" Elliott stammered, a hint of delighted surprise in his voice as he took in the scene.
"Yes, you guessed right. Absolutely correct," Leonard answered casually from his half crouch.
I didn't expect this fellow to actually have a sense of humor... Klein lowered his revolver and looked at Elliott.
"We're mercenaries hired by your father. You can also call us security personnel."
"Whew, really? Have I been rescued?" Elliott asked, brimming with joy but not daring to move carelessly.
It was apparent that he had suffered considerably in the few short hours since his kidnapping. He no longer even had the impulsiveness expected of his age.
Leonard stood and said to Klein:
"Go downstairs and find a police patrol. Have them notify that tobacco merchant. I don't want to head out like a kidnapper with a child and these four fellows."
Klein, who had been considering how to handle the aftermath, nodded, put away his revolver, and headed toward the stairs with his cane.
As he descended step by step, he vaguely felt he had forgotten something, and he heard Leonard say to Elliott:
"Don't be nervous. You'll see your father, mother, and old butler Cully soon. How about a round of Gwent?"
Holding back a smile, Klein walked out onto the street and, following directions from passersby, found two patrolling police officers.
He did not use his Special Operations Department badge or credentials. Instead, he presented himself as a professional security operative and recounted everything that had happened.
As for carrying a weapon, he was not worried in the slightest, since he had obtained his "all-category weapons permit" just two days earlier-applications through internal channels were approved very quickly.
The two officers exchanged a glance. One left to notify reinforcements and the Vickroy family, while the other followed Klein back to the kidnappers' room.
After waiting over forty minutes, Leonard took advantage of a moment when the officer was not paying attention and signaled Klein with his eyes to slip out of the room with him.
"Trust me, going to the police station is a terrible waste of time. Let's leave first," the poetlike Nighthawk explained, looking relaxed.
Taking the attitude that someone taller would hold up the sky if it fell, Klein did not object and followed him.
Nearly another five minutes later, several speeding carriages rushed up to the building where the kidnappers were held. The old butler Cully stepped down alongside his portly employer, Vickroy.
Even then, he remained bewildered, unable to believe that the good news had come so quickly-so quickly that it felt like a dream.
Suddenly, he heard a crisp snap and instinctively turned to look:
A two-wheeled carriage passed with its window open, and the black-haired, green-eyed Leonard snapped his fingers again.
Once they had passed the Vickroy family's carriages, Leonard shut the window, turned around, and looked at Klein.
He smiled and raised his right hand.
"Pleasure working with you!"
We're not exactly close... Klein politely slapped his palm against Leonard's.
He had not expected the kidnapping to be resolved so quickly either. He could only marvel inwardly that Beyonders truly were Beyonders. Even a half-baked Sequence 9 like himself could accomplish many incredible things.
"This is a gesture nobles use to celebrate after fencing," Leonard explained with a smile.
"I know." Klein had quite a few noble classmates.
He glanced out the window and frowned slightly.
"Aren't we going to confirm things with Mr. Cully? If he thinks the police rescued Elliott, our payment will be halved."
A full 100 pounds!
As for providing the kidnappers' whereabouts, there would be no question about that, thanks to their "meeting" just now.
"Don't worry about it. Money isn't that important in our lives." Leonard spread his hands with a smile.
...It's very important to me! Klein forced a polite smile and said:
"Quite a few poets died young because of poverty."
Leonard chuckled.
"I believe Elliott won't lie about this. I can tell he still retains some innocence. Besides, even if we get the 200-pound payment, you won't get much of a share."
"How much will I get?" Klein asked immediately.
"According to our longstanding, unwritten rule, half the payment goes to Mrs. Orianna as extra funds for the team. The rest is divided equally among the participating members. Unfortunately, you're not a full member, so you'll probably only get ten percent."
Ten pounds? That's not bad either... Klein pretended he did not feel the pinch and changed the subject.
"Aren't you worried the kidnappers will realize they were affected by Beyonder powers after they wake up?"
"They won't suspect anything. They'll only think the weather was so nice, so perfect for sleeping, that they couldn't help nodding off. They'll even believe the chanting only existed in their dreams. We've verified this," Leonard answered with great confidence. "That Demon Hunting Bullet of yours, though, will strike people as odd. Of course, an eccentric who likes mysticism is a perfectly reasonable explanation."
"Mm." Klein set aside his worries, feeling only that he had forgotten-or rather, overlooked-something.
Back on Zouteland Street, Klein did not wait for Cully to arrive. He took a walk to Welch's residence, then returned home by a different route, buying beef, cabbage, and other ingredients for dinner along the way.
As usual, dinner was pleasant, and as usual, the three siblings chatted leisurely while studying. The only addition was a visitor who knocked at the door.
He was a worker who had come to collect all the one-penny copper coins in the gas meter.
As the night deepened, the three siblings said good night to one another and returned to their rooms.
Klein was sleeping soundly when a rustling outside suddenly woke him. Puzzled, he opened his door and went to the unoccupied bedroom.
Pushing open the mottled door, Klein saw a gray desk.
A notebook lay on the desk. Its cover was made of stiff paper, dyed entirely black.
An inexplicable sense of familiarity arose in his heart. Klein approached and opened the notebook.
The open page bore an illustration: The Fool, dressed in splendid clothes and wearing a dazzling headdress!
Beneath The Fool was a line of Hermes:
"Everyone will die, including me."
Klein's heart jolted. Suddenly, he saw the corners of The Fool's mouth curl upward!
Whoosh!
He abruptly sat up, saw the crimson moonlight filtering through the curtains, the bookshelf and desk, and the outlines of his own bedroom, and realized he had had a nightmare.
As a Seer, he understood that dreams always revealed something, so he carefully went over it again.
In the middle of his recollection, Klein suddenly froze. He knew what he had overlooked that day!
While immersed in Leonard's chanting, he had been subjected to an invisible, indifferent gaze from behind.
That gaze felt different from his experiences during normal meditation or when using Spirit Vision. It gave him a sense of familiarity!
And according to Captain Dunn, once such a feeling arose, it often meant...
Klein abruptly straightened, confirming the feeling:
Yes, it was that, that notebook! The Antigonus Family's notebook!