160 Böklund Street, in a study with excellent lighting.
There were rows of bookshelves here, and there were many collections. At a glance, it looked like he had entered a private library.
Klein was sitting in a high-back chair, reading the day's newspapers. He discovered that be it the Tussock Times or the Baekeland Daily News, there was an additional advertisement in a prominent spot — transfer of 10% of the Baekeland Bike Company's shares.
Mr. Stanton sure is efficient. It's only been a few days, and he's already completed the financial investigation and valuation … Just as Klein sighed inwardly, his spiritual perception was triggered.
He quickly activated his Spirit Vision and saw Miss Messenger, Reinette Tinekerr, walk out of the void. She was still holding the four blonde, red-eyed heads in her hands, and one of them was biting on a letter.
It's likely Miss Sharon's reply … As Klein thought, he reached out to receive it and nodded slightly.
"Thank you."
As he spoke, he subconsciously looked at the study's door because his valet, Richardson, was standing guard outside.
Tearing open the envelope and spreading out the piece of paper, Klein quickly scanned it and confirmed that the owner of the letter was Miss Sharon. She expressed that she had no intention of buying the Biological Poison Bottle at the moment, and that she might consider it after some time if the mystical item was still around.
Is this because the financial situation isn't good enough? Or is she saving money for something more important? Klein casually thought for a moment and instinctively believed that it was the latter. This was because it was impossible for the demigod named Zatwen to stay in Baekeland all the time. Sharon and Marić had finally escaped from Rose School's pursuit. With their Beyonder strength and Sequence characteristics, it was relatively easy for them to earn money in a relaxed environment. Furthermore, they seemed to be in control of The Brave's black market arms trade, acting as Ian's backer. Just this line alone could earn them quite a bit.
As he thought about it, Klein looked up and saw Miss Messenger's eight pairs of red eyes staring at him.
He jumped in fright, imagining that she was urging him to repay the debt.
He cleared his throat and said, "There's no need for a reply.
"The first payment will be made within this week."
Reinette Tinekerr's four heads spoke one after another.
"There's no need … to be anxious … There's no … interest …"
Miss Messenger is quite nice after all … As Klein sighed, Reinette Tinekerr's figure vanished as she returned deep into the spirit world.
After burning the letter and resting for half an hour, he went to the door and ordered Richardson to prepare the carriage.
He planned to go to church before his afternoon philosophy class.
The journey was smooth. After drinking a few mouthfuls of black tea, Klein quickly arrived at the square outside Saint Samuel Cathedral.
After admiring the tranquility brought by the white pigeons, he walked past the cathedral's door and entered the prayer hall. He randomly found a seat and sat down. Just like before, Richardson hugged his employer's hat and cane as he sat diagonally behind him.
As he emptied his mind and prayed, Klein's spiritual perception was triggered again. He instinctively opened his eyes and looked to the left.
He then saw the dark-haired, green-eyed Leonard Mitchell.
This Nighthawk wasn't wearing a trench coat. He was wearing a white shirt that wasn't tucked into his belt with straight pants and a black vest. His style was very casual.
Seeing the middle-aged gentleman with gray sideburns look over, he nodded with a smile and retracted his gaze. He closed his eyes and pretended to pray.
He wasn't worried that the other party would discover that he was sizing him up because he had only swept a glance without doing anything else. Many believers had done the same thing.
When a good-looking gentleman entered this place, it was inevitable that he would receive a certain amount of attention. Leonard Mitchell was often the target of such attention, so he knew this very well.
At this moment, a slightly-aged voice sounded in his mind.
"It's him."
Heh, I didn't let down my efforts of running to the cathedral yesterday and today … Leonard thought smugly, but he didn't show it on his face.
Klein also pretended to pray as he pondered over the questions that arose in his mind.
When did this fellow, Leonard, become so pious?
Although he's definitely more pious than me, he's definitely not the kind that attends the cathedral every day. He only attends once a week or even once every two weeks …
Did he come with a motive? He seemed to be sizing me up just now …
With this in mind, Klein suddenly came to a realization.
The Grandpa in his body is an angel of the Zoroast family, which is also an angel of the Marauder pathway …
Blasphemer Amon is a King of Angels of this pathway. "He" can discover the gray fog and even wants to invade it …
Therefore, the Grandpa in Leonard's body is very likely to have sensed the gray fog's powers or traces on me!
With this judgment, Klein's heart immediately leapt up, as though he was surrounded by a dangerous trap.
He maintained his praying posture, and the eyes under his eyelids didn't move. His entire being was calm and reserved, completely in line with the atmosphere inside the cathedral.
After an unknown period of time, he slowly got up and walked to the altar. He came in front of the donation box and threw a total of fifty pounds in.
Following that, just like before, he smiled and nodded at the bishop and priest in charge today. He received a rather friendly response.
On the way out of Saint Samuel Cathedral, Klein took his hat from Richardson and fed the pigeons in the square for about ten minutes.
And behind him, believers who had finished praying came out one after another, including Leonard Mitchell.
Klein didn't size up the main entrance as he leisurely clapped his hands, took his gold-inlaid cane, and walked to the four-wheeled carriage that was parked nearby.
Leonard was similarly feeding the pigeons in the square as he watched his target board the carriage and leave, but he had no intention of tailing him.
Since the other party had an ancient aura and had received the attention of the parasite in his body, he naturally didn't dare to be careless. He didn't dare take direct action because it would be extremely dangerous.
He planned on checking the periphery and gathering the necessary information.
I'll see what Old Man has to say when the time comes … Besides, it's not like I don't have a direction to investigate. Such high-end carriages are rather limited in all of Baekeland. Be it one's own or rented, it's very easy to determine the source. Then, I'll know that gentleman's identity and origins … Leonard looked at the pigeon as he leisurely thought.
He was a Nighthawk with rich experience, and he was an elite Red Glove among the Nighthawks!
At that moment, a white pigeon flapped its wings and flew over. There seemed to be a piece of paper in its beak.
Leonard frowned as he extended his left palm and watched the white pigeon descend. It threw the piece of paper down before flapping its wings and flying up again.
Raising his hand to hold the piece of paper, Leonard unfolded it warily and puzzledly. He saw two words on it:
"Zoroast;
"Parasite."
This … Leonard's pupils constricted as he felt his hair stand on end. His emotions were on the verge of exploding.
That gentleman saw through my secret?
As expected of a person with an ancient aura!
He might really be one of the undying monsters left behind from the Fourth Epoch!
Is he warning me? He's telling me not to interfere in his matters or even approach him?
At that moment, thinking back to the middle-aged gentleman with white sideburns and deep blue eyes, Leonard felt that his every action exuded a strong sense of deterrence. It made him not dare look straight at him or approach him.
He immediately lost the idea of investigating the other party. Watching the white pigeons land at the same time, he lowered his voice and said,
Seeing the white pigeon land, he suppressed his voice and said, "Old Man, that might be an old friend of yours.
"If you wish to investigate anything, it's best to wait until you've mostly recovered your strength."
"Old friend …" The slightly-aged voice repeated the two words, as though he was puzzled, but he didn't dare to confirm anything.
Leonard quickly reined in his emotions and chuckled.
"So you're a member of the Zoroast family …"
At that moment, less than a hundred meters away, at the intersection of Phelps Street and other streets.
Dawn Dantès, whose black hair was mixed with some silver strands, leaned against the wall and slowly closed his eyes, hiding his distinct facial features in the shadows of the carriage.
Beside his substitute, Richardson, a middle-aged man wearing a dark red coat and an old triangular hat appeared. He bowed at his master before vanishing without alerting anyone.
The carriage slowly turned around as a flock of white pigeons flew up from the square.
…
After returning home and entering the room with the huge balcony, the silent Klein sighed silently.
If Leonard didn't accept the warning due to the grandpa's bewitchment, he would write another note. The content would be: "I know where Blasphemer Amon is."
In other words, he meant that if he messed up his matters again, he would tell Blasphemer Amon that there was an angel from the Zoroast family here.
This didn't make the grandpa feel that Dawn Dantès was weak and needed to rely on others to resist him. Instead, it was more like a form of courtesy and respect for an angel by warning him no more than three times.
If he didn't restrain himself after two warnings, the solution wouldn't just be to inform Blasphemer Amon.
Yes, there's a high chance that I can intimidate them. That grandpa definitely has other motives or difficulties in choosing a superficial parasitism. He probably doesn't wish for me to flip the gambling table … Heh heh, I have to thank Arrodes for this. If I didn't know that there was a Marauder angel in Leonard's body, I definitely wouldn't have discovered that I've been targeted, much less use the appropriate words and methods to warn them … Klein thought calmly, no longer feeling nervous and flustered.
As he relaxed, there was a knock on the door. Richardson said, "Sir, the butler is looking for you."
"Sir, the butler is looking for you."
"Invite him in." Klein turned around and left the balcony, returning to the half-open room.
"Sir, your philosophy teacher, Mr. Hamid, is here."
Philosophy class … Klein rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on.
Philosophy class … Klein rubbed his temples as he felt a headache coming on.
He had previously heard from Walter that Mr. Hamid was a believer of the Lord of Storms. It was the same for the famous scholar, Lourmi. It was the same for a large number of philosophers in the Rouen Kingdom.
This left him rather surprised. This was because to him, a believer of a storm was equivalent to a grumpy brother.
From the looks of it, I need to change my inflexible and unobjective impression … Heh, the prerequisites to becoming a philosopher are to be unable to find a wife or have a bad family relationship? As Klein lampooned, he adjusted his clothes and walked to the door.
He said to Walter, "Alright, I'll head over now."
PS: I'll take half a day off tomorrow for the chapter at noon. This is because I'm a little stuck on how to proceed. I need to think about it.
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