Because " Silver Coin Viper " Orville wasn't a pirate, the various rumors about him were a mix of truth and falsehood, making it difficult to discern the truth. Klein withdrew his gaze from the stairwell, walked to the bar, found a seat, and lightly tapped the table, saying:
"A cup of Zarjah."
This is locally produced malt beer, much cheaper than Southville beer, which needs to be shipped from the Northern Continent.
"Three pence." The bartender, snapping out of his reverie, picked up an upside-down glass.
Inside the bar, people began to whisper among themselves, discussing why " Silver Coin Viper " Orville had bought ten tickets, all under the glow of the gas lamps.
"He's definitely being tracked. Three ships, ten tickets—that's to keep the trackers guessing which one they'll board!" A gang member with tattoos on his sleeve commented, drawing on his own two escape experiences.
An adventurer, sipping his Lerunqi, scoffed:
"You don't understand Orville. If his plan were really that simple, he wouldn't have the nickname ' Silver Coin Viper '."
"I bet they won't board any of those ten tickets that represent any of the passenger ships!"
"The only thing we can be sure of is that they're going to Pritz Harbor."
Another adventurer shook his head upon hearing this:
"Perhaps the information about going to Pritz Harbor is also false."
The former gang members were stunned, then retorted defiantly:
"Based on your description, Orville has likely already considered all of these points, so he wants to go to Pritz Harbor and board one of those three ships!"
The two adventurers opened their mouths to refute, but after thinking about it carefully, they realized that it was quite possible, and they were speechless for a moment.
This pleased the gang member greatly, and he downed the rest of the liquor in one gulp.
Klein, meanwhile, held his Zarha cup, sipping his drink as he listened in idly, waiting for the fake identity documents and ship ticket he needed to return.
"Three-quarters of an hour more. I hope nothing goes wrong and the bar doesn't descend into chaos..." he prayed silently, drawing a Crimson Moon in his mind.
The pale yellow beer simmered slowly, and Klein glanced at the wall clock and then at the door, hoping time would pass faster.
More than half an hour later, the bar door was suddenly flung open with a bang, and the night wind rushed in.
No way... Klein's lips twitched slightly, suppressing the urge to laugh bitterly, and he turned his head to look in the direction from which the sound came.
Five people appeared at the door. The leader had black hair and brown eyes, a deep-set face with strong features, very characteristic of the Loen, and looked to be in his early forties.
His expression was cold and stern, exuding an aura of authority that caused the crowd in the bar to fall silent again.
Behind him, three men and one woman, all wearing trench coats, openly held revolvers, seemingly ready to fire at the slightest sign of trouble.
"I don't recognize him. He's not on any wanted posters, and there's no bounty on him..." Klein muttered, maintaining his Spectator's demeanor.
The five intruders suddenly dispersed, each approaching a different customer, bowing slightly, looking at them, and asking in turn:
Where is ' Silver Coin Viper ' Orville?
As the patrons hesitated to answer, they saw the dark muzzle of a gun pointed at them, the ivory or ebony handle displaying an unusual beauty under the light.
"They went to the second floor!" The customers who were asked pointed to the stairwell almost simultaneously.
Someone really is tracking Orville. Is it to deal with the " Mystery Queen," or did " Silver Coin Viper " do something himself? Or is it because of the mysterious hooded man eating candy next to him? Klein took another sip of beer, watching as four of the intruders headed to the second floor, while the remaining one stayed behind to continue questioning.
Soon, the latter learned that Orville had bought tickets from Denil, and immediately walked up to the thin, dark-skinned black market merchant, asking in a deep voice:
"Tell me honestly, where did Orville buy his ticket to?"
Denil didn't try to show off his extensive connections; he forced a smile and said:
He didn't specify, but the requirement was ten tickets, for three different ships, tomorrow, and the destination was Pritz Harbor.
"Really?" The person asking was a radical man in his twenties.
Denil responded in a low voice:
"You can ask everyone here; they all heard it."
"Shit!" The man angrily shoved Denil, then turned and walked toward the other patrons.
Denil lost his balance and staggered backward. Just as he was about to fall, the back of his head hit the edge of a small round table. Then he felt a force on his shoulder, and his body immediately regained its balance.
He instinctively turned his head and saw that it was the same customer who had just obtained a fake identity document to buy a ticket for an illegal ship.
"Thanks, you damn military hyenas!" Denil said first, then muttered through gritted teeth.
It was Klein who helped him up; he didn't want anything to happen to the "ticket scalper," especially since he had already paid £5 in cash in advance.
Of course, it's also his habit to take advantage of innocent bystanders who get caught in the crossfire.
Military hyenas? In Bayam, this description often indicates that the target is someone from Military Intelligence Section 9... What has " Silver Coin Viper " Orville done? Klein muttered to himself, ruling out the possibility that someone was targeting the " Mystery Queen ".
Because it means nothing to the Loen military.
As his thoughts raced, the members of Military Intelligence Section 9, who were heading to the second floor, hurried downstairs, rushing towards the door while saying to their companions:
"They jumped out the window and ran away long ago!"
The group arrived in a hurry and left in a hurry; the bar quickly returned to its noisy state, with only the still slightly swaying door a testament to the turmoil that had just occurred.
Klein finally received the fake identity documents and the black ship ticket, and no longer had to worry about being interrupted by unexpected events.
After paying the remaining 15 pounds in cash, he left the Seaweed Bar and returned to his rented ordinary hotel.
" John Yord... isn't that a convenient name? I'll need a more authentic identity document before returning to Backlund." Klein flipped through the series of identity documents and tossed them into his suitcase.
He took a bath to relax and prepare for leaving Bayam the next day to begin the final leg of this " Travel " at sea.
Just then, he heard a knocking sound at the door.
Who is it? Klein quickly took off his bathrobe, put on his clothes and pants, and walked to the door.
Outside were several policemen in black uniforms; one appeared to be Loen, while the rest were either mixed-race or pure-blooded natives.
"Is there something you need?" Klein asked, puzzled.
"Please show your identification," a mixed-race person said politely, as the gentleman opposite him also appeared to be from Loen.
Luckily I just got one, otherwise I'd have to go to the police station tonight, or run away on the spot, change my identity document, and start all over again... Klein muttered to himself as he returned to his room and retrieved his identification.
The leading Loen police officer casually flipped through the papers and said:
"Mr. Yord, do you live here alone?"
"Yes, everyone at the hotel can attest to that," Klein replied readily.
The Loen police officer smiled slightly and said:
Have you seen this person before?
As he spoke, he gestured for the officer next to him to open a portrait. It depicted an elderly man with an unusually thin body and disheveled, completely white hair; apart from these features, there were no other particularly distinctive characteristics.
"No." Klein shook his head.
"He really likes sweets," Officer Loen added.
"Candy..." Klein suddenly remembered the mysterious hooded man next to " Silver Coin Viper " Orville, who was constantly eating brown candy at very short intervals.
After considering it for a moment, Klein didn't hide anything and said:
"Perhaps I've seen him before. I saw a candy-loving person following ' Silver Coin Viper ' Orville when I was at the Seaweed Bar."
The Loen police officer made no attempt to hide his disappointment, simply thanked him, and ended the questioning.
Only after they knocked on other rooms did Klein close the wooden door and return to his armchair.
" Orville's matter not only attracted the attention of Military Intelligence Section 9, but also prompted the Governor's Office to arrange manpower for a city-wide search. This is no simple matter..." He muttered to himself, deciding to go above the Gray Fog to browse the prayer lights around the " Sea God Scepter " and seek more information from the prayers of Bayam's many believers, lest he be inexplicably drawn into a larger vortex due to a Error response.
Entering the washroom and standing above the Gray Fog, Klein beckoned, causing the white bone scepter surrounded by countless points of light to fly out from the pile of clutter.
Browsing through the dots of light, he could only confirm that the interrogation he had just experienced was not a small-scale affair, and that the targets were Orville and the mysterious man, but he could not find out anything more.
After thinking for a moment, he turned his gaze to a spot of light that had been specially marked by divinity.
That belonged to a mixed-race policeman named Braya, who called himself " Sea God " and endured humiliation to convert to the " Lord of Storms," all in order to climb higher in the police force.
He's now a police superintendent!
Then, Klein projected the will of " Sea God " into the corresponding spot of light.
While instructing his subordinates at the police station Braya suddenly broke out in a cold sweat. He quickly made an excuse, went into the restroom, and whispered a prayer:
"Great Kavithua, the Blessed of the sea and the Spirit World, your believer reports to you."
"The key person we're looking for tonight is a very thin old man. His hair is completely white, but still quite thick, though very messy. He's very sensitive to the cold and wears thick clothes even in Bayam. He loves sweets, as if he himself were Steam and sweets were high-quality coal. The order is to find him but not harm him."
Klein ignored Braya, pulled his thoughts back, and tapped the edge of the long table with his fingers, saying:
"This description felt more familiar to me than the portrait."
"I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before..."
For a " Seer," familiarity means clues, so Klein wrote down Divination statements and began to question his own Spirituality.
He silently recited the words while leaning back in his chair, using Cogitation as a springboard to drift into a deep sleep.
In the gloomy dream world, Klein finds himself back in Backlund, back at 15 Minsk Street, where he used to rent a place.
Before him stood Ian, his eyes bloodshot. The young man raised his head and said:
" Turan von Hermosuin, the greatest scientist, mathematician, and mechanician after Emperor Roselle, the father of the second-generation difference engine."
Suddenly, Klein woke up and realized who Military Intelligence Section 9 was looking for!
They were looking for the great scientist whose manuscript of the third-generation difference engine alone had caused fierce competition and numerous deaths between the Loen military and the Intis spy organization!
They're looking for a mad scientist who mysteriously disappeared years ago!
No wonder " Admiral of Blood " intelligence officer Old Quinn had a more advanced radio than Backlund's! Klein suddenly realized.
P. S.: Updated first, revised later.