Two o 'clock in the afternoon, in the suburbs of North Borough, outside a quaint two-story house that had been in disrepair for years.
Klein, who was dressed in a probationary inspector's uniform, looked at the overgrown garden and the walls that were covered in plants.
He turned his head in surprise and said, "My martial arts teacher lives here?"
A Grandmaster of Combat chosen by the Nighthawks must be outstanding …
Leonard Mitchell, who had led him over, chuckled and said, "Don't underestimate Mr. Gawain because of his living environment.
"Don't underestimate Mr. Gawain just because of his living environment. Although he didn't get a title in the end, he was still a real knight."
Having said that, the Nighthawk, who was casually dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, and buttonless leather boots, suddenly felt melancholy.
"He was active in the last glorious era of the knights. Those warriors wearing chest armor would charge at the guns and cannons in a frenzy, destroying their opponents and flattening the front lines. Unfortunately, they soon ushered in the invention and production of high-pressure steam rifles and six-barreled machine guns. From then on, knights gradually retired from the stage."
"Mr. Gawain was the same. More than twenty years ago, the Awwa Knights he was in encountered the most advanced army of the Republic of Intis … Sigh, every time I think of this, I feel like I've touched the dust of history. I'm shocked by the vicissitudes and fate that can't be reversed. There's a poem brewing in my heart, but I don't know how to write poetry."
… Then why are you saying so much? Klein pretended not to hear Leonard's self-deprecation and suggested in a serious and serious manner,
He suggested seriously, "My university classmate told me that writing poetry is something that requires a lot of talent. It's best to start by reading Rouen's Early Classical Poems."
Leonard's mood changed on a whim as he replied in a relaxed and cheerful manner,
"I've already bought this poetry collection, as well as other books like Roselle's Selected Poems. I will work hard to become a midnight poet, Mr. Seer."
Is he hinting at … acting? Klein replied as if he didn't understand.
"Then you still need books on grammar."
"Alright, let's go in." Leonard reached out and pushed open the half-closed iron gate. He walked along a path wide enough for two people to walk side by side towards the house.
Before he got close, Klein saw the front door open, and a tall man walked out.
His blonde hair was very short, and there were already signs of white at his temples. The skin on his face had traces of weathering, and the wrinkles on his forehead, crow's feet, and wrinkles on his forehead were deep and obvious.
"What are you doing here?" The middle-aged man asked in a deep voice.
"Mr. Gawain, according to the contract you signed with the police department, this probationary inspector will learn combat from you," explained Leonard with a smile.
"Combat? There is no need to learn how to fight in this era. " Gawain looked at Klein with his slightly cloudy eyes and said lifelessly, "You should practice drawing and shooting and master the most advanced weapons."
Was he traumatized by the six-barreled machine gun and the high-pressure steam rifle? Klein did not respond rashly. He turned his head to look at Leonard, amused.
"For the police, fighting is still a subject that must be mastered. Most of the criminals we face aren't demons that must be executed immediately. They might not even have weapons. At times like this, fighting skills are needed," Leonard said as if he was prepared.
Gawain was silent for more than ten seconds with a gloomy face.
"Try throwing a punch."
He was talking to Klein.
Without his cane, Klein recalled the boxing matches he had watched in his previous life. He raised his arm and swung it forward.
The corner of Gawain's mouth twitched indiscernibly.
He thought for a moment and said, "Kick."
Turning his body sideways, Klein tightened his thigh and lashed out with his right leg.
"Ahem …" Gawain covered his mouth with his hand and coughed lightly. He looked at Leonard and said, "I will abide by the contract. But with his situation, he only needs to come four times a week for three hours for the first month."
"You're the combat expert. You decide." Leonard nodded without hesitation and said to Klein with a smile, "See you at dinner."
After he walked out of the metal fence, Klein asked curiously, "Teacher, where should I start?
"Teacher, where should I start? As a qualified keyboard warrior, he knew that footwork in combat was also very important.
Gawain's hands hung by his sides as he shook his head lethargically.
Gawain's hands hung by his sides as he shook his head lethargically.
"What you need most right now is strength training."
"Do you see that? There are two iron dumbbells. They will be your companions for today. "
"In addition, you also need to practice squats, running, and rope skipping. We'll do it in groups."
While Klein was in a daze, he suddenly raised his voice and asked majestically,
"Understood?"
"Understood!" At this moment, Klein felt as if he had returned to military training, facing an unreasonable instructor.
"Go change your clothes first. There's a knight's training suit on the couch." Gawain suddenly sighed. He turned around with his hands behind his back and walked toward the pair of black dumbbells.
…
Six o 'clock in the evening, a corner of the Old Will Restaurant.
Other than Frye, who was on duty at Chanis Gate, all the members of the Blackthorn Security Company were present. There were six Nighthawks and five civilian staff.
A white tablecloth was spread quietly on the long table. The waiters brought in plate after plate of food. They cut the food before serving it to each guest.
Klein saw a steak with black pepper sauce, bacon, sausage with mashed potatoes, custard, aloe vera, specialty cheese, and amber champagne. However, he had no appetite. He nearly vomited from the afternoon's training.
Glancing at the pale and unfocused new Nighthawk, Dunn raised the glass of red wine in front of him and smiled.
"Let us welcome our new official member, Klein Moretti. Cheers!"
The cold and reserved black-haired lady, Royale Redeen, the short and capable Sleepless Kenley White, the unkempt man, Leonard Mitchell, and the white-haired, black-eyed Midnight Poet, Seeka Tron, all raised their glasses and looked at their new teammate.
Klein endured the lingering discomfort from the training, picked up the amber-colored champagne, and stood up.
He stood up and said, "Thank you."
He clinked glasses with each Nighthawk and downed the remaining champagne.
"Isn't our Miss Author going to say something at a time like this?" Dunn looked at Seeka Tron with a smile.
Seeka Tron was a lady in her thirties. Her looks were rather ordinary, but she had an outstanding temperament. She was quiet and serene, and with her rare long white hair, she had a unique charm.
Klein had heard from Old Neil that this Midnight Poet was an amateur fiction enthusiast. She had attempted to submit articles to newspapers and magazines, but only a few of them had been accepted.
Seeka smiled and glanced at Dunn.
"In order for you to address me as Miss Author to become a reality, Captain, I think you should give me a special fee so that I can publish my own novels."
Dunn spread his hands and smiled.
"You should learn from Old Neil and find a more suitable reason."
"In this aspect, I'm most impressed by Mr. Neil!" Roshan swallowed a piece of roasted lamb and chimed in.
As the group chatted, Leonard glanced at Klein and chuckled.
"You're too tired and have no appetite. Can't eat?"
"Yes." Klein sighed.
"If you haven't touched it, I can help." Leonard looked as though he didn't want to waste food.
Klein didn't mind at all and nodded.
"No problem."
Just like that, most of the food in front of him was eaten by Leonard and company.
At the end of dinner, the waiters served beef pudding and ice cream.
Klein took a bite of the latter and found it cold and sweet. It was especially appetizing.
Unknowingly, he finished his blueberry juice ice cream.
And because of this, he began to feel hunger in his heart and stomach. It was the body's desire to replenish itself after expending a lot of energy.
Swallowing his saliva, Klein looked in front of him and saw that the plates were a mess. There were almost no leftovers.
At that moment, Dunn suggested, "Let's end it here. Let's have one last toast to Klein."
Before he could finish his sentence, Klein blurted out, "That's right.
"Captain, can I have another serving of dinner?"
Upon hearing this request, everyone fell silent for a moment before they laughed softly.
"Haha, you've finally recovered. No problem, even two more will do." Dunn shook his head and laughed.
While waiting anxiously and impatiently, Klein heard his stomach growl.
Finally, a piece of steak with black pepper sauce that had just been fried was served.
The knife and fork danced in the air. Klein, who was on the verge of tears, only took a minute and a half to finish the medium-well food. The fragrance of meat and juice lingered in his mouth.
After an unknown period of time, he looked at the empty plates and exhaled in satisfaction. He put down his knife and fork and drank a mouthful of champagne.
"Waiter, the bill." Dunn turned to the waiter beside him.
The waiter first went to the front desk before returning with the bill. He explained in detail, "That's right.
He explained in detail, "You've opened a total of five bottles of Desi champagne. Each bottle is twelve soli and three pence. A small glass of Southville red wine is ten pence … Each black pepper steak is one soli and two pence … Each beef pudding is six pence, and each ice cream is one soli … That's a total of five pounds, nine soli, and six pence."
Five pounds, nine soli, and six pence? That's almost a week's salary! A restaurant is indeed much more expensive than eating at home! Klein was left speechless when he heard that. He was very glad that the Captain had said that he didn't need to treat. He had a small treasury and additional funds!
He did some careful calculations and realized that the most expensive part of the dinner was the alcohol. Just five bottles of champagne cost more than three pounds!
This is no different from Earth … Klein secretly rubbed his stomach and forced himself to finish the last mouthful of champagne.
…
The next morning, Klein groggily felt his lower abdomen bloating. He turned around in an attempt to get out of bed.
Just as he exerted strength, he was immediately jolted awake by the soreness in his muscles. He felt as though his body no longer belonged to him.
What a familiar feeling … It's just like the day after I was punished with frog-jumping … Today's my day off, and I still have to visit my mentor to see if I can borrow the monograph on the main peak of the Hornacis from the university library … The corners of Klein's mouth twitched as he struggled to move outside.
With every step he took, he felt like drawing a cold breath.
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