Three o 'clock in the afternoon, East Balam Dock, Dock Workers Association.
Klein was wearing a thick sweater, a brownish-yellow jacket, and a simple bonnet, making him look more like a common investigative reporter, rather than someone who often attended banquets and interviewed people of status. Such an outfit cost him an extra pound 10 soli.
At this moment, he was wearing gold-rimmed glasses, and his hair was neatly combed back, gleaming with the luster of ointment. There was no messy beard on his face, only a deep bluish-black stubble around his lips. He was at least five centimeters taller than before, trying to make a clear difference from the worker from last night so that people who weren't particularly familiar with him wouldn't be able to associate him with him.
And in the pockets of his clothes and pants, there was no All-Black Eye, no charms, and no herbal essential oils. There was only a deck of tarot cards, a stack of notes, a fountain pen, a wallet, a handful of change, a bunch of keys, and a fake reporter's pass.
He didn't know Lanevus's current condition, nor did he know where the powerful Beyonders surrounding him came from. Therefore, it was best to be cautious and not bring anything that would arouse suspicion.
Looking at the two-story building in front of him, Klein crossed the street, pretending not to rely on his Clown's intuition to discover that several gazes were watching him.
He pushed open the door and found that the layout of the Dock Workers Association was rather simple. There was no lady in charge of reception, nor was there a spacious hall. The staircase that led to the second floor was in the middle, and on both sides were corridors filled with offices. The floor wasn't covered with wooden planks, much less blankets. It was purely paved with cement.
Klein turned his head to look at the man guarding the door and approached him.
"I'm a reporter from the Baekeland Daily News. I want to interview the staff of your association to understand your demands and desires."
The man was wearing a coat with many patches, and some of the corners even revealed dirty cotton. He only wore a linen shirt inside.
Upon hearing the word "reporter," he immediately became vigilant.
He repeated, "No! We haven't organized a strike recently, no! "
"I think you've misunderstood. I'm someone who sympathizes with you. I plan on doing a special report, describing what the union has done to help the workers and the actual difficulties they've encountered. Trust me." With the help of his Clown Beyonder powers, Klein made his eyes look abnormally sincere.
"I see … Go look for Mr. Rand. He's our committee member in charge of publicity. Turn right, the second office on the right." The man hesitated for a few seconds.
"Thank you." Klein pretended to be relieved and bowed. He felt the gaze on him disappear from the dark corner.
He turned to the right with cold sweat on his back and knocked on the door of the corresponding office.
The door creaked open, and a middle-aged man with sparse hair looked at him in confusion.
"May I ask who you are?"
"Is that Mr. Rand? I'm Stenson, a reporter from the Baekeland Daily. This is my reporter's ID. I want to do a report on the trade union to help you get more attention. "Klein almost believed that he was a reporter.
"I am Rand." The middle-aged man looked at the reporter's ID and said hesitantly, "I find it hard to believe that you reporters are here to help us."
"I was born in East Borough, so I know how miserable the lives of the workers are. If you don't believe my intentions, you can always follow me and monitor my every question." Klein suddenly added with a smile, "A report with actual interview information is better than nothing. It's better than a news article written purely from imagination. At the very least, you can state your point of view and guide the matter in a direction that you hope for."
Rand touched his scalp and replied hesitantly, "Alright."
"I'll follow you the entire time."
"Thank you!" Klein nearly couldn't control his emotions.
After that, under Rand's lead, he entered one office after another and interviewed the members of the Workers' Association according to the questions he had prepared beforehand.
Right corridor, nothing. Left corridor, nothing … Klein's expression remained the same as he walked up the wooden stairs and arrived at the second floor.
Right corridor, nothing. Left corridor, nothing … Klein's expression remained the same as he walked up the wooden stairs to the second floor.
This time, Rand brought him into the office facing the staircase and introduced him to the person inside.
"This is a reporter from the Baekeland Daily, Mr. Stenson."
"He would like to do some interviews with you, but I have to remind you that you have the right to refuse to answer certain questions."
With a smile, Klein took two steps forward and made a gesture as though he was going to shake hands with the office staff.
At this moment, he saw a somewhat familiar figure.
Although the person's skin had turned bronze, his ordinary round face had become angular, and his glasses had changed from round-rimmed to gold-rimmed, Klein still discovered a baffling sense of familiarity with the person with his spiritual intuition as a Seer.
Following that, his body trembled as he nearly lost control of his smile.
"I-I'm sorry. I suddenly … suddenly have a stomachache. May … may I know where the washroom is?" Klein asked with an awkward smile as he held his abdomen with his hand that wasn't holding a pen or a note.
Rand and the staff in the office didn't suspect anything as they pointed outside the door.
"Go out, turn left, and walk to the end. You'll see the sign."
Klein smiled apologetically as he left the room and rushed to the washroom.
After entering, he chose the cubicle closest to the window, sat on the toilet, and locked the wooden door.
He bent down, and the corners of his mouth widened as he laughed silently. He laughed so hard that he couldn't even straighten his back. He laughed so hard that a drop of crystalline liquid fell to the ground.
Klein had already confirmed that it was Lanevus!
This wasn't because of the rare sense of familiarity, but because he sensed another aura from the other party, an aura that left an extremely deep impression on him!
And this was also the main reason why he had almost lost control on the spot.
The trembling of his body stemmed from his instinctive fear and terror!
His emotional breakdown stemmed from the horror and sorrow deep in his memories!
That was …
That was …
That was the aura of the True Creator!
...
Klein washed his face and continued the interview as though nothing had happened. Even when facing Lanevus, who had changed so much for some reason, he still asked the questions and recorded the answers.
After doing all of this, he bade farewell and left the Dock Workers' Association. He walked out of the dimly lit room.
Outside, there were layers of dark clouds, and a thin fog filled the air. It was as though evening had come early.
The True Creator's aura can only come from "Him" himself, "His" children, and things that extend from this foundation. For example, items bestowed by "Him," or "His" godhood … This is very consistent with what Lanevus had said to Hood Eugen. Coupled with that inexplicable sense of familiarity, I can confirm that it's him even without a divination above the gray fog … If I hadn't interacted with the True Creator several times and often come into contact with his mental corruption, I wouldn't have been able to recognize that the aura that doesn't contain any power or status belongs to "Him" … Klein's heart was heavy, but he looked very relaxed on the outside.
He stood on the street and deliberately sorted out the interview notes.
During this process, he caught a glimpse of a slightly familiar figure among the tramps opposite him.
Ma 'am Xio? Klein instantly made a guess after combining the events that had transpired.
He didn't stop. He put away the notes and walked towards the public carriage stop.
At that moment, a carriage suddenly stopped in front of him.
"We meet again." Sitting in the carriage was a thin but elegant middle-aged gentleman. His graying sideburns gave him an air of elegance. He was none other than the great detective who could assist the police in their investigations, Eichinger Stanton.
As for Klein, he didn't look much different from usual. He was just a little taller and had changed his clothes.
"What a coincidence. I was just thinking about the last time I interviewed you," Klein deliberately replied.
Eichinger immediately understood and changed the topic with a smile.
"I'm here to investigate a case. Siebel's death has been removed from the investigation, and I'm mainly in charge of it. The location of her death is very close to the East Balam Dock."
"Is it really a copycat crime?" Klein pretended to be the only one who knew.
After exchanging a few pleasantries, he got on the public carriage. He didn't go straight home, but instead took a bus to the Quelaag Club in Hillston Borough.
In the club's lounge, he quickly went above the gray fog and confirmed that no one was following him.
At this point, Klein completely relaxed and felt a lingering fear.
The True Creator's aura was like a nightmare that lingered in his mind. It made the clothes on his back dry and wet, wet and dry.
To be sure, Klein conjured a piece of yellowish-brown goatskin and a dark red fountain pen in front of him. Then, he wrote down the divination statement he had long thought of.
"The source of that baffling sense of familiarity from before."
He put down the fountain pen and leaned back in his chair. As he chanted, he entered a dream.
In that hazy and illusory world, he saw a figure.
This figure had ordinary facial features and wore round-rimmed glasses. He always had a condescending and mocking smile on his face. It was none other than Lanevus!
I've finally found you! Klein no longer used his Clown powers to control his expression as he gritted his teeth and muttered to himself.
Then, he sat up straight and prepared to respond to Miss Justice's prayer.
Klein controlled his emotions and said in a low and indifferent voice,
"There's no need for confirmation."
"That's Lanevus."
"You can inform the Church of the Evernight Goddess and tell them that Lanevus has the godhood of the Fallen Creator."
…
Audrey, who was watching her father train the hounds with Susie, was stunned when she heard Mr. Fool's response.
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