On Sunday morning, not long after Klein finished his breakfast, he heard the doorbell ring as he expected.
But to his surprise, it wasn't just Mike Joseph who came, but Dr. Allen as well.
"Sherlock, I had that nightmare again last night. I think it's abnormal," Allen said the moment he entered the living room without avoiding Mike.
Without waiting for Klein's reply, he took out his wallet and took out a paper crane.
"Do you think it's a problem with this?
"Ever since I found it and carried it with me, I've been having nightmares."
Klein glanced at it indifferently, and his expression suddenly froze. If he hadn't been a Clown in the past and had great control over his facial muscles, he might have even revealed an unconcealable smile in front of the reporters and doctors. Yes, a smile.
Th-this paper crane is even uglier than mine … That was the thought that came to Klein's mind.
At that moment, he had the urge to cover his face and sigh.
Could this be the tradition of the Nighthawks, where they have poor handiwork?
Without a doubt, the paper crane in front of him was another product of a swap. After receiving accurate information from Klein, the Nighthawks didn't seem to delay. They snuck into Dr. Allen's bedroom that night and exchanged the paper crane they had folded for the one in his wallet.
But they didn't expect that the one in his wallet was also a fake. It had been folded by Klein above the gray fog, and it was rather crude.
It's inexplicably comical … Klein glanced at Dr. Aaron, who didn't notice anything, and cleared his throat.
"Perhaps so. I suggest that you go to the cathedral again and talk to the bishop from before. We have to believe that the deity we believe in is always watching over us."
As he spoke, he drew a triangular Sacred Emblem on his chest.
After the Nightmare left last night, Klein had specially gone above the gray fog to divine if there was any danger in switching back the paper crane. He had received a revelation that it was very safe. Therefore, he could now make such a suggestion with great interest in an attempt to tease his former colleagues.
I wonder how they'll feel when they see their poorly folded paper cranes return to their hands … Klein solemnly consoled Dr. Allen, then turned to the reporter and smiled.
"Mike, what I really want to suggest to Allen is to see a psychiatrist, but faith can definitely comfort his soul."
"You're not honest at all." Mike laughed. "Well, let's go."
The next day, Klein accompanied the reporter from the Daily Observer to East Borough to interview the rescued girls.
In the face of an interview fee of one pound, no one would reject it, even some of the girls who had been abused.
In this interview, Capim's crimes were one of the main points, and the current situation of the girls was another. The former was infuriating, while the latter was depressing.
Daisy was actually one of the luckier ones. After returning home, she could immediately get back to work and use her own labor to exchange for food. Less than a third of the rescued were like her, and most of them still had some savings in their families. Their situation allowed them, who had been traumatized, to not be busy for the time being. They could patiently look for suitable work.
As for the other two-thirds of the rescued, they had to work hard to survive. With a large number of female textile workers out of work, they often could only find temporary jobs with very low pay. Those whose parents and siblings hadn't lost their jobs were still fine. At least they could help each other and barely fill their stomachs. However, those whose family situations weren't as optimistic had already taken the path of street girls. It was as though they had never been rescued. They had sold their bodies once, perhaps for the sake of some food.
This made Mike as silent as the last time. It wasn't until the sky turned dark and they left East Borough that he snapped back to his senses and thanked Klein.
"Sherlock, it's all thanks to your help. Otherwise, I would've definitely been blackmailed by those gangsters today."
"Isn't that why you hired me?" Klein smiled politely without any hint of smugness.
With his previous instructions, Old Kohler and Liv's family didn't reveal that he had helped them search for people for free. In particular, Daisy was rather smart. When Mike asked if they knew anyone special, she directly replied, "Mr. Reporter and Mr. Detective."
Mike nodded habitually and walked in silence for a while.
Before getting into the carriage, he suddenly exhaled.
"I want to make an appeal in this report. I want to appeal to the government to take out Capim's estate and set up a relief fund. I want to use the annual income to steadily help these rescued girls and others who have been harmed because of Capim, giving them a chance to escape their current predicament.
"Although Capim's safe has been ransacked by that Hero Bandit, his greatest wealth is in the estate he bought. All of this should be illegally obtained."
Klein listened carefully, took a deep look at Mike, and praised him sincerely.
"You're the best reporter I've ever seen."
"There are many reporters like me. There are always some idealists in this World." Mike sighed.
With that said, he paid Klein ten pounds for the employment fee and took off his hat and waved it.
After watching the reporter get into the rental carriage, Klein prepared to take public transportation in another direction. At this moment, Mike suddenly wound down the window and asked with a teasing smile,
"Sherlock, I'm not the only reporter you know, am I?"
Klein was stunned for a moment before he chuckled.
"Guess."
…
City of Silver.
Derrick Berg was like a beast trapped indoors, pacing back and forth anxiously in the room.
He felt that the Chief wasn't paying enough attention to his report. He was worried that the exploratory team members, who had been affected by the Fallen Creator for some reason, would cause devastating damage to the city that had existed in the darkness for 2,582 years after they were released from quarantine.
In such a situation, he was eager to get opinions from Mr. The Hanging Man and Miss Justice, who knew the Fallen Creator rather well.
This was the Tarot Gathering he looked forward to the most.
Wait a little longer. If Mr. Fool still doesn't summon us, I'll pray directly to "Him" … Derrick tried to calm himself down, but his pacing didn't slow down at all.
Suddenly, he saw the boundless gray fog and heard the messianic voice.
"Prepare for the gathering."
Derrick heaved a sigh of relief and cautiously sat on the edge of the bed. He lay down and pretended to sleep for a while out of exhaustion.
After silently counting a thousand rapid heartbeats, he waited for a while before he was engulfed by the illusory crimson light.
At this moment, Derrick's room was abnormally quiet. Lightning streaked across the sky outside the window, causing the darkness to leave the land.
Suddenly, in the corner of his bed, darkness squirmed and stretched out, transforming into a human shape!
The black shadow quickly climbed up and quietly looked down at Derrick.
He carefully observed for dozens of seconds before retracting without finding anything.
In the corner, the shadow was the same as usual.
…
The endless gray fog lingered beneath his feet as usual. The long bronze table in front of him was mottled with rust, but it didn't show any signs of decay. Sun Derrick first saw Miss Justice and Miss Magicians sitting opposite him. What entered his ears was a familiar, brisk greeting.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fool ~"
"Good afternoon …"
Shrouded in the gray fog, Klein nodded slightly. He appeared to be leisurely responding to Miss Justice and the other members' greetings, but in fact, he was busy controlling The World to make him appear like a real person.
It was already dinner time after accompanying Reporter Mike for an interview yesterday. Klein found a Fenapotter-style restaurant outside and took the initiative to order a glass of Desert Beer due to the spiciness.
After eating and drinking his fill and returning home, he didn't go out again for the rest of the time. He either studied the Book of Secrets or prepared his own food. This alleviated the heavy emotions he felt every time he went to East Borough.
Unknowingly, the afternoon arrived, and his thoughts turned to the Tarot Gathering.
After exchanging greetings, Audrey held back her curiosity and excitement. She wasn't in a hurry to ask about the truth behind Capim's matter.
Mr. Fool might not answer, but how would "He" know if "He" wants to answer without asking? Hmm, I hope "He" can raise a request of equivalent value. I'll try my best to satisfy it … Audrey looked around and observed the other members.
As a Telepathic Reader, she quickly noticed something unusual.
Eh, Sun is very anxious. Did something happen to the former exploration team captain? Did he meet Amon?
Also, Fors is in a state of wanting to ask but not daring to … She must've read the newspaper and guessed from the Tarot cards that Capim's death was caused by our Tarot, but she's puzzled as to who the Emperor card represents … She seems to be even more awed by Mr. Fool. What happened?
Mr. The Hanging Man is in a good mood. His potion has been digested … He seems to be looking forward to something …
Mr. World still looked gloomy and reserved. It was difficult to read his thoughts. He's really the nemesis of the Spectator pathway …
Sun didn't hide his anxiety, but he didn't directly consult the Tarot members.
He knew very well that the opening period belonged to Mr. Fool, unless there was no Rosell's diary.
There's no need to rush. The gathering has already begun … If Mr. Fool is in a good mood, he might answer some questions … Derrick consoled himself.
The Hanging Man Alger turned his head to look at the seat of honor and said humbly,
"Honorable Mr. Fool, I've found three new pages of Rosell's diary."
Diary? Rosell's diary? "Magicians" Fors pricked up her ears.
Klein smiled in response.
"What do you want to exchange them for?"
Glancing at the card in Mr. Fool's hand, Alger suppressed the fervor in his heart and said, "That's right, Mr. Fool.
"I want to know what the card beside you is."
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