Almost instinctively, Klein bent his knees, twisted his waist, and rolled in another direction, which was the direction of the bathroom door.
Whoosh!
A black-feathered arrow was stabbed into the sink. The arrowhead seemed to be made of bone, and it glowed with a beautiful blue hue.
If Klein had hesitated just now, he definitely wouldn't have been able to escape this sudden attack!
After rolling for a moment, Klein reached into his pocket and tried to pull out a few tarot cards.
But at this moment, he only felt a gust of wind blowing against his face. From the corner of his eye, he saw a black figure approaching at high speed. With an extraordinary posture, the figure closed in on him and tightened the instep of his foot. From the bottom up, he kicked out.
Seeing that he couldn't dodge it, Klein quickly gave up on the idea and blocked the attack with his elbow.
With a bang, he felt his entire left arm go numb, and his body was uncontrollably whipped out. It was just like the tennis and squash that the middle class loved to play, and the soccer that was popular among the lower class.
What great strength! Klein's heart tightened. He adjusted his body in midair in a panic, changing his posture, and barely maintaining his balance as if he was performing acrobatics.
Pa! Pa, pa … At that moment, the bark-colored blowpipe had just landed on the bathroom floor and bounced behind the door, from fast to slow.
Klein was just about to stretch his body and stand firmly to deal with the follow-up attack when a scene suddenly flashed in his mind.
The black-clothed enemy's speed exceeded his imagination. He arrived faster than he expected, lowered his waist, and swung his arm, punching him in the chest.
In the blink of an eye, Klein's body curled up again and turned half a circle, like a small ball that was constantly falling and being tossed around.
Pa!
With his head down and feet up, he pressed his hand to the ground and spread his legs like a pair of scissors, preventing the black-clothed man's fist from hitting anything. It passed through the gap and exploded the air.
The fist that was originally aimed at Klein's chest could only hit his legs after he turned his body, and his legs could be spread open.
With a press and a push, he pulled his legs down, and Klein nimbly leaped to the other side, finally standing firm.
Pa!
Before he could examine the enemy, the black figure had already leaned to the side, bringing with it a strong gust of wind.
His reaction was so fast! Klein hurriedly raised his arms to block in front of him.
With a muffled bang, he felt as if he had been rammed by a black bear. Unable to withstand the boundless force, he could only stagger backwards, his arms almost losing feeling.
At the same time, Klein finally recognized the attacker.
His skin was dark, thin, and he had sunken eyes. It was none other than the Zmanger Executioner, Meursault, who had come to see Detective Moriarty that morning!
Pa pa pa! Meursault's eyes revealed a fierce glint as he chased after him. He waved his arms repeatedly, hooking left and swinging right as he launched a storm-like attack.
The difference in strength between Klein and his opponent was obvious. He was unable to parry the attack head-on and had to rely on his agility and premonition to barely dodge the combination of punches.
No! I have to make use of my advantages! A similar thought flashed through his mind, and Klein stopped trying to fight. He lowered his body, kicked his legs, and rolled to the side.
Crack! A chair was splintered by Meursault's kick.
Klein propped himself up with his hands and exerted strength in his back. He continued to roll, looking for an opportunity to take out his tarot cards and self-made charms.
Thud! Thud! Thud!
Meursault caught up quickly and kicked out alternately with his legs, not much slower than the enemy.
He was like a giant bear with the gift of agility. He had no shortcomings in any aspect, so the rolling Klein could only focus on dodging and parrying. He had no time to draw cards or use spells.
Kacha, bang, bang!
The chair was broken, the table was overturned, and the coat rack was toppled. Klein had gone around in a circle, and the situation was becoming more and more precarious.
It couldn't go on like this! He kept dodging and rolling, looking for an opportunity to turn the situation around.
Suddenly, he glanced at the coffee table in the living room from the corner of his eye, and an idea came to his mind.
Bang! Klein used one hand to block the attack and leaped backward. Enduring the pain, he rolled toward the living room.
At this moment, the muscles on Meursault's legs suddenly bulged as if they were filled with air.
Thud! He stomped so hard that the ground seemed to shake. His entire body leaped forward and shot toward Klein like a bullet. Then, he lashed out with his leg.
Klein barely managed to block it, but he was sent flying again. With a clang, he knocked over the coffee table and sent the ceramic tea set flying toward the cupboard. The fountain pen, the standard contract, and various newspapers scattered all over the floor.
Seeing that the detective in the black double-breasted frock coat had been knocked so hard that he couldn't stand up or roll, Meursault's eyes glowed fiercely. Amidst the sounds of porcelain shattering, he slid forward and kicked out with his knee.
Klein's eyes darkened as he watched this scene. He was already holding a standard contract in his hand.
He fled to the living room and continued to roll toward the coffee table, ignoring his premonition, just to get a standard contract or a newspaper!
Seeing Meursault's knee coming at him fiercely, Klein's wrist suddenly shook.
At this moment, another scene appeared in his mind — the scene of Meursault's neck tilting back.
Whoosh!
Klein pressed his wrist slightly and shook out the standard contract in his hand.
Whoosh!
The contract was like a steel dart as it shot toward Meursault's throat. At this moment, the two of them were less than a meter apart, and as the other party moved forward, they were getting closer and closer!
When the white shadow came into view, Meursault instinctively leaned back in an attempt to dodge.
Pfft!
The standard contract accurately stabbed into Meursault's throat and into his windpipe.
Blood with some foam flowed out, and Meursault fell in front of Klein, his knee hitting the ground heavily.
"Gasp, gasp, gasp …" He pulled out the blood-stained contract and clutched his throat tightly.
However, he was unable to stop the blood from flowing out of his wound, and his eyes gradually glazed over.
In the end, his body twitched a few times before he stopped moving.
Klein recovered for a while before he had the strength to stand up. He held a few tarot cards between his fingers, wary of any possible counterattacks or other enemies.
After activating his Spirit Vision and confirming that the other party was dead, Klein looked around and didn't find any other aura colors.
It was only then that his tense nerves eased a little. He noticed that two chairs were broken, the coffee table was broken in many places, and porcelain was scattered all over the floor. The entire living room, dining room, and foyer were in a mess.
Looking down, he saw that the sleeves of his gown were damaged, and the outer layer of the tweed coat was stained with dust.
Suddenly, Klein gave a self-deprecating laugh.
"There's no way to claim this …"
"Haha, hahaha, hahaha."
He laughed, as if he had encountered something that would make him happy for the rest of his life. He laughed so hard that he nearly bent over, and his laughter echoed throughout the entire house.
Dozens of seconds later, Klein wiped away his smile and walked to Meursault's corpse with a solemn expression.
He wanted the dead to speak!
After the familiar mediumship ritual and self-response, Klein took a whiff of the serene fragrance and used dream divination to whisper,
"The mastermind behind Meursault's operation."
Soon, his eyes turned black as he entered a dream and saw a gray blur.
The gray World suddenly had light and shadows change, condensing into images and scenes.
In front of Meursault was a middle-aged man without a hat. The collar and cuffs of his white shirt had complicated, layered, and petal-shaped decorations. It looked abnormally gorgeous, and coupled with a tight-fitting black vest and skinny trousers, it was gaudy and exaggerated.
This middle-aged man had brown hair and blue eyes. His face was thin and had stubble, but he was rather charming. He was a very good-looking gentleman.
He looked at Meursault and said in a deep voice,
"No matter what you do, you must find Ian Wright and try to keep him alive. If he's dead, please bring him to me within an hour, preferably within 15 minutes."
"Yes, Mr. Ambassador." Meursault didn't hide his arrogance, but he still lowered his head.
The scene shattered, and Klein frowned.
Mr. Ambassador?
This matter actually involves other countries?
From the style of the shirt, this ambassador is very likely the Republic of Intis's ambassador to Baekeland …
Ian is just a big boy …
That gentleman knows mediumship, or at least there's someone around him who knows mediumship …
Klein thought for a moment and gave the words of dream divination again.
"The purpose of finding Ian Wright."
In the blurry, illusory dream, Klein once again saw the middle-aged gentleman from before.
He stared at Meursault and said in a low voice, "You don't need to know why.
"You don't need to know why. Just do as I say."
"I gave you potions and money so that you could become the person behind the scenes of the Zmanger gang. I didn't ask you to ask questions, I asked you to do things!"
"Hmm … All you need to know is that Ian Wright might be involved in a very important item."
As this scene faded, Klein once again exited the dream.
A very important item … I really couldn't tell. Ian … What could it be … Potion … Meursault is actually a Beyonder. It's no wonder his combat skills are so strong and terrifying. He should be a Beyonder who specializes in this area … Amidst his thoughts, Klein felt exhausted. Replying to his own prayers had indeed consumed too much of his spirituality.
If he wanted to return to his previous level of mediumship, he would probably have to wait until he reached Sequence 7.
After ending the ritual and removing the wall of spirituality, Klein looked at Meursault's corpse and carefully observed it for a long time.
Finally, he saw specks of spirituality gathering at the wound on the man's throat, slowly condensing into a single mass.
Carefully grabbing it, Klein had a dark red object that looked like Earth jelly in his palm.
This is the Beyonder characteristic left behind by Meursault? I wonder what Sequence potion it is … That's easy to determine. I'll get the answer by divining above the gray fog … In theory, a Low-Sequence Beyonder characteristic can directly give a person the corresponding powers even without supplementary ingredients. However, after consuming it, it's easy to go crazy and lose control on the spot … The supplementary ingredients for Low-Sequence Beyonder potions almost don't contain any spirituality … Klein let his thoughts wander as he forcefully retracted his attention.
A corpse was placed in front of him, giving him a headache over how to deal with it.
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