The cold and painful grip of the five white-knuckled fingers made Klein's hair stand on end. He subconsciously retracted his hand and frantically tried to retreat.
A heavy feeling came over as Klein used all his strength to pull at his forearm.
Thump!
The pale, naked corpse was pulled askew as it fell from the long table to the ground.
However, the cold, pale fingers continued to grip Klein's wrist.
Klein momentarily lost his ability to think. His mind was filled with thoughts of pulling out his gun and firing.
However, as he couldn't retract his dominant hand, he threw away his black cane. He tried several times, but he failed to successfully retrieve his revolver from his holster.
At that moment, the corpse's eyelids suddenly opened, revealing a pair of unfocused blue eyes.
His mouth quivered as he muttered,
"Hornacis … Hornacis … Hornacis …"
After three murmurs, the flustered Klein felt the fingers that were gripping his wrist loosen. Following that, they drooped limply.
The suited clown's eyes were tightly shut once again, as though nothing had happened.
If not for the pale corpse lying on the stone floor, Klein might have believed that he had been hit by an illusion.
He staggered a few steps back, feeling that many parts of his body were convulsing from the shock and anxiety.
Phew … Phew … Klein panted heavily as he slowly regained his ability to think. He looked warily and fearfully at the corpse on the ground.
He removed his revolver and cautiously retreated out of the room. After confirming that the corpse was motionless, he glanced at the wrist where he was holding his gun.
There were five deep, dark red fingerprints there, and they were silently narrating the previous encounter.
Klein calmed down significantly as he constantly cursed in his heart.
F * * k, you scared me to death!
After panting for about ten seconds, he began to visualize the items in his mind, allowing himself to quickly regain his composure.
Carefully recalling, Klein "replayed" his encounter frame by frame.
Although he still did not understand the reason for the suited clown's "zombification," he acutely grasped the crux of the matter. It was the man's repeated muttering of "Hornacis!"
"It's Hornacis again …" Klein frowned. "The Antigonus family's notebook records the Nation of the Evernight in the Hornacis mountain range. When I was in Cogitation and Spirit Vision, I heard something I shouldn't have heard. I also heard the term 'Hornacis.' And now, this dead man is using a strange method to emphasize Hornacis in my ears … Could it be that the answers to many questions lie in the Hornacis mountain range … Perhaps, there's a huge danger hidden there. For example, an evil god is sealed in the mountain range and is seeking to escape through such 'temptation.'"
While his thoughts were running wild, Klein carefully entered the room and touched the corpse a few times to confirm that it was completely dead.
He didn't want Corpse Collector Frye to see the mess he had made. Hence, he mustered his courage and carried the corpse back to the long table.
Throughout the entire process, not only was Klein on tenterhooks, but he also felt that his nerves might snap at any moment due to the slightest movement. Furthermore, he was abnormally disgusted by the ice-cold contact between the corpse and his skin.
After completing the mission with great difficulty, he recalled why he had approached the corpse. Hence, he focused his attention on the suited clown's wrist and the strange brand.
It was unknown when the brand had fallen off, but it had condensed into a ball of blood with a tinge of blue.
The ball of blood was only the size of a thumb. It floated silently in midair in a manner that defied the laws of physics.
"What is this?" Klein muttered, not daring to touch it rashly.
He had no intention of concealing the strange ball of blood. Firstly, he didn't know if it was good or bad. Secondly, he believed that Frye, who had carefully examined the corpse, would have long discovered the brand on the wrist. He might even know what the strange ball of blood was.
And even if Frye doesn't know, it would be better to hand it over to the Captain and let the entire Nighthawks investigate it. It would be much better than me making random attempts … Klein thought.
As a member of an organization, an individual had to know how to make the best use of the organization's power.
Klein tensed up and waited for a few minutes before he saw the black-haired, blue-eyed, thin-lipped Frye return to the room.
His gaze was instantly attracted by the strange ball of blood. He asked the question Klein had previously asked himself.
"What is this?"
"I don't know." Klein shook his head honestly. He didn't hide anything as he recounted everything that had happened.
"The brand fell off into a ball of blood …" Frye nodded as though he was thinking. "Beyonder corpses always have some strange changes …"
He raised his head and looked at Klein.
"Get the Captain here and tell him the contents of the corpse's murmurs."
"Alright." Klein had long wanted to leave this place.
"You don't have to come with the Captain," Frye added. "I believe you definitely won't like what happens next."
As he spoke, he picked up the silver scalpel beside him.
Klein nodded with lingering fear.
"That's exactly what I was hoping for."
He picked up his cane, wore his hat, and turned to Chanis Gate. In the Keeper's room, he saw Captain Dunn, who was no longer dispirited.
Dunn calmly listened to his recount and nodded indiscernibly.
"I will report this matter to the Holy Cathedral and let them handle it. Perhaps they will send someone to the main peak of the Hornacis mountain range to take a look."
Klein tersely acknowledged. Seeing that only the Captain and Sleepless Kenley were in the Keeper's room, he casually asked, "I will report this matter to the Holy Cathedral.
Have Mr. Aiur and the rest gone to rest? "
Dunn nodded.
"Aiur and Borgia are at Saint Selena Cathedral. Lorotta should be looking for a coffee shop."
"Coffee shop? Madam Lorotta's injuries aren't healed yet, right? "Klein asked in surprise.
Dunn rubbed his eyebrows and smiled.
"Lorotta has three hobbies — coffee, desserts, and maids. She says that she needs these three things to speed up her recovery."
"Maids?" Klein asked blankly.
Does Madam Lorotta have some sort of fetish?
Dunn shook his head helplessly.
"She likes maids. Yes, that's right. Furthermore, she likes them with big breasts."
"… She's really a strange person." Klein didn't know how to react.
Dunn didn't delay any further as he walked out of the Keeper's room. Klein looked at his back as he waited silently for him to turn around.
At the same time, he saw Sleepless Kenley take out his pocket watch from the corner of his eye and press it.
Three, two, one … Just as Klein finished counting, Dunn stopped.
He turned around and said, "I forgot something again, Klein. You have experienced too much today. You will definitely feel exhausted after relaxing. You don't have to stay here in the afternoon. Go back and have a good rest. Tomorrow, submit the application and list the losses in detail."
"Yes, don't pay too much attention to the matter of killing a Beyonder. Killing him is equivalent to saving more people."
"Actually, I'm already a lot better." Klein exhaled silently.
Dunn nodded slightly. Just as he was about to turn around, he suddenly smacked his forehead.
"Also, I have already handed the Beyonder's portrait to Leonard. He and the police department will be in charge of the follow-up investigation. I believe that the Beyonder will definitely be riding a carriage in Tingen City, enjoying food, and will definitely have a place to stay."
"Anyone who walks by will leave a mark. Emperor Roselle's words are indeed very reasonable."
"… Yes," Klein answered blankly.
After the Captain left, he left the guard room and walked slowly to the second floor.
Along the way, he suddenly thought of something and felt an inexplicable sense of fear.
The suited clown claimed that the Secret Order has the corresponding Sequence pathway for Seers … Even if it's an exaggeration, and they don't actually have the formulas for High-Sequence Beyonders, they definitely have plenty of Low-Sequence Beyonders.
That means that they have quite a number of Seers.
"Would he have divined that I was the one who killed the suited clown and secretly took revenge?"
If they can't deal with the Nighthawks, how can they deal with a Seer like me who doesn't have any direct means to counter their enemies …
Klein stopped on the stairs and thought about the problem seriously. Soon, he realized that he was worrying for nothing.
First, the Secret Order doesn't even know who the Nighthawks are.
Second, even if they know one or two, it definitely doesn't include a civilian like me.
Third, under such circumstances, unless it's a Seer, it's impossible to divine who the murderer is.
He heaved a sigh of relief and left the Blackthorn Security Company. He took a public carriage back to Daffodil Street.
Although he hadn't eaten anything in the afternoon, he still lacked an appetite.
Klein entered his bedroom and took off his damaged suit and his half top hat. Then, he lay on the bed and tried to sleep.
His mind was still active, and he couldn't seem to relax. However, his mind wasn't repeating the scene of him shooting the suited clown, but the scene of him moving the corpse. It was that hair-raising sensation.
He didn't feel as uncomfortable as when he had killed someone for the first time, but he felt more nauseous just thinking about it.
This might be Frye's goal. He hoped that I could overcome my trauma by looking at the corpse … However, even though the trauma from before is gone, a new one has appeared … Klein gave a self-deprecating laugh as he relaxed.
He didn't know when he had fallen asleep. When he woke up, his stomach was growling.
"I think I can eat an entire cow!" Klein muttered. He saw the Sun setting in the west outside the window, and the sky was burning.
After changing into old but comfortable clothes, he quickly walked to the first floor. Before he could consider what to make for dinner, he heard the door open.
Melissa … The corners of his mouth curled up slightly as he thought to himself.
Ever since she started taking the public carriage, his sister didn't return home late.
With a turn of the key, the door opened. Melissa walked in with a bag filled with books and stationery.
She looked at the kitchen door.
"Klein, there's a letter for you. It's a letter from your mentor."
Mentor's letter? Right, I wrote to him asking about the history of the Hornacis main peak … Klein was taken aback at first before he recalled.
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