In the evening, the shadows of the carriage and horses were dragged out by the setting sun.
Klein, who had already informed Baansen and Melissa, had dinner at the Blackthorn Security Company and was riding a public carriage to the dock with Old Neil.
He was wearing his cheap formal attire because he was worried that a conflict might occur in such an occasion. If he were to damage the tuxedo that he usually took care of, it wouldn't just be a heartache.
When the sunlight seemed to burn, the carriage came to a stop. Old Neil, who was still wearing his classic black robe and round-brimmed felt hat, paid no attention to the gazes of others as he walked towards the Evil Dragon Bar diagonally across from him.
Even though the bar was a little far away, and even though the door was heavily shut, Klein could still hear waves of cheers from inside. They seemed to be cheering for a certain "hero."
Just as he approached, he suddenly sensed something and turned to look at the warehouse opposite the bar. He saw a burly man in uniform standing in a hidden spot on the rooftop.
The man carried a huge grayish-white mechanical box on his back and held a thick rifle with a complicated structure in his hand.
And the grayish-white metal box and the rifle of the same color were clearly connected by pipes.
"High-pressure steam rifle?" Klein muttered in astonishment. He turned to look at Old Neil and said, "This bar can even obtain such a weapon?"
This was a military-controlled item!
Although it used extracted phlogiston, the size and weight of the high-pressure steam backpack were still astonishing. Only a true Predator could carry it, and the bullets propelled by it possessed extremely high speed and destructive power.
Coupled with a suitable aim, it was almost equivalent to a low-quality sniper rifle.
"What?" Old Neil narrowed his eyes and looked over, equally puzzled. "Did something happen here?"
Something happened? Klein surveyed the surroundings and indeed, there were a few men with repeating rifles searching for something.
"What's wrong?" Old Neil approached the bar and asked the burly man guarding the door.
The burly man clearly knew Old Neil. The muscles on his face twitched as he smiled bitterly.
"The bar was almost demolished just now."
"It's said that a wanted man came to buy materials and was recognized, so he became like this … My Lord, what did he do? How dangerous is he to be treated like this? When I saw those guns, my legs went soft. They were even softer than after fooling around with Sunny the Red Hair for a whole night! "
He didn't know who the wanted person was, nor did he know that there were Beyonders mixed among the people who came here to buy ingredients.
"A wanted man? Do you know his name? "Old Neil asked with interest.
"His … his name is Tris?" the burly man answered uncertainly.
Instigator Tris? Klein nodded in realization and understood what was going on.
Tris didn't know that he had been suspected by Joyce Meyer, so he swaggered to the underground market to buy ingredients. In the end, he was recognized by the Machinery Hivemind or the Mandated Punishers or Nighthawks, resulting in an intense conflict.
"Has he been caught?" Klein tapped the silver-inlaid black cane.
From the looks of it, not yet …
The burly man shook his head slightly and used his chin to point at the top of the warehouse opposite him.
"He rushed out before those terrifying fellows arrived. Whoa, I've never seen anyone better at running than him!"
Actually, you haven't seen the true abilities of an Assassin. Otherwise, you would have been taken to an indescribable place to be re-educated … Klein lampooned.
"Is the market still open?" Old Neil changed the subject and asked.
"It just recovered," the burly man answered affirmatively.
"That's good." Old Neil took two quick steps forward, reached out his right hand, and pushed open the heavy door.
Klein followed closely behind and walked in. He was nearly knocked down by the stuffy heat and the smell of alcohol.
There was a boxing ring in the middle of the Evil Dragon Bar. Two bare-chested men were engaged in an intense fight. Around them, dozens of customers were cheering for the person they were supporting. There was no lack of vulgar language among them.
Old Neil ignored them as he led Klein around the boxing ring and into a billiard room at the back.
There were two people in the billiard room, chatting and laughing with each other. When they saw Old Neil push open the door and enter, they immediately fell silent for a few seconds.
After confirming the visitor, they quietly made way, allowing Old Neil and Klein to pass through the secret door behind them.
After passing through several rooms, Klein's vision suddenly opened up. He saw a place the size of a lecture hall from his previous life.
There were people setting up stalls with bottles and cans piled on them. There were also people walking among them, either scrutinizing, conversing, or comparing prices.
"A twentieth of all profits will be given to Swain. Ah, he's the boss of Evil Dragon Bar, a former captain of a Mandated Punisher team. He's even older than me, an old man who wishes to die of alcoholism," Old Neil introduced in a rambling manner.
Klein thought for a moment and gave a sincere evaluation.
"It's a rather profitable business."
Because the cost was only to provide the venue and shelter.
"If you fancy an item but don't have enough money, you can borrow it from Swain. Of course, he will charge a very high interest rate …" At this point, Old Neil clenched his teeth.
Indeed, it's just like a casino. It provides usury services … Klein held his cane and sized up his surroundings as he asked curiously, "What's going on?
He asked curiously, "Mr. Swain is a Seafarer?"
The captain of a Mandated Punisher team should be a Sequence 7.
"No, he's just a Folk of Rage. Tingen isn't a coastal city. Here, the Church of the Goddess is more powerful than the Lord of Storms." Old Neil sneered. "Actually, Swain had the chance to become a Seafarer, but he was afraid of losing control, so he chose to give up."
Just as Klein was about to ask the bar owner if he had ever nearly lost control, he suddenly sensed a strange phenomenon to his left.
There seemed to be something hidden there, whispering and narrating.
Klein turned his head and saw a pale-faced young man. He was wearing a tattered linen shirt and blue-gray trousers unique to the working class. His eyes were unfocused, but there was a hint of madness in them. He was constantly muttering something.
"His spiritual perception is very high … or is it distorted?" Klein muttered with a frown.
What had triggered his spiritual perception was the other party's spiritual perception!
Normally, the perception brought about by spiritual perception would definitely result in a certain interaction. It was almost impossible to hide it from others, but this "others" referred to Spirit Mediums who had cast their powers, as well as powerful figures with similar specialties. It was actually very difficult for a Beyonder like Klein to distinguish between them. Only when the other party's spiritual perception reached a certain level, or when there was an abnormal distortion, would he be able to discover it.
When their eyes met, the pale-faced young man with messy black hair strode over with a half-crazed and half-sleepwalking expression.
He stopped in front of Klein and stared at him in a daze.
Suddenly, he laughed loudly.
"Haha, the smell of death, the smell of death … Ah!"
Before he could finish his sentence, he suddenly screamed. His eyes closed tightly as blood-colored liquid flowed out.
"Ah!" "Damn it!" The young man covered his eyes, hugged his head, and struggled and rolled on the ground. After a while, he calmed down and lay there panting.
Throughout the entire process, none of the customers or vendors who set up stalls gave him a sidelong glance.
Klein pressed down on his half top hat and stared dumbfoundedly at Old Neil, using his actions to express his surprise and seek advice.
"Don't mind him. His name is Ade Misol, an orphan. His nickname is' Monster. 'He was born with high spiritual perception and often sees things he shouldn't see and hears things he shouldn't hear. Therefore, he often talks nonsense and often gets hurt," Old Neil explained with a shake of his head.
He can tell that this body of mine has died once? Klein frowned and lowered his voice.
He asked in puzzlement, "The Nighthawks, Mandated Punishers, and Machinery Hivemind have never thought of recruiting him into their team?"
"No, we don't have a Sequence potion that's suitable for him." Old Neil sighed.
Yes, this is equivalent to being born with half a Sequence's beginning … Klein asked curiously,
"Then which Sequence pathway is suitable for him?"
"The Sequence 9 he's suitable for is called 'Monster.' That's where his nickname comes from. Unfortunately, only the Life School of Thought has grasped the beginning of this Sequence pathway," Old Neil replied in a low voice.
He and Klein tried their best to avoid the people around them when they conversed, so as to prevent information from leaking to mysticism enthusiasts.
Life School of Thought? Klein recalled the information he had previously read.
This secret organization appeared at the beginning of this Epoch. Its exact origins were unknown, and it was mainly passed down from master to disciple.
Their specific theories and beliefs were also rarely leaked. Klein only knew that they divided the World into three levels: the World of Absolute Rationality, also known as the World of Absolute Truth; the World of Spirits; and the World of Matter.
It's said that this secret organization has even produced a Prophet … Isn't this the corresponding Sequence pathway of a Seer … I don't understand, I don't understand … Klein shook his head repeatedly as he watched Ade Misol struggle to get up and wander off to another corner.
He reined in his thoughts and followed behind Old Neil. They passed through one stall after another and discovered that there were plants such as moon flowers, fingered citron, night vanilla, and minerals such as pure silver, topaz, and rubies.
"It's indeed quite complete …" Klein muttered softly.
The mysticism enthusiasts around him, young and old, male and female, would pause in their footsteps from time to time. At times, they would distinguish between each other and communicate, making the place rather lively.
"Walk around by yourself. I'll pay the bill." Old Neil pointed to one of the two rooms at the end.
"Alright." Klein nodded without much thought.
He held his black cane and slowly strolled to a stall that sold homemade amulets. He looked at it seriously for a while.
Just as Klein was about to speak, he suddenly heard someone from the stall behind him ask.
"Is this powder ground from cow teeth paeonol?"
Cow teeth paeonol? Isn't this a supplementary ingredient for the Spectator potion? Klein turned around in thought and looked at the questioner.
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