On Saturday, inside the Backlund Nighthawks' office, the atmosphere was taut and oppressive.
Leonard Mitchell did not prop his feet on the desk as he usually did. Instead, he sat upright, posture rigid, his expression grave.
This was the second time he had encountered a case involving the theft of items from behind Chanis Gate, inevitably stirring memories he had long buried.
More importantly, he had crossed paths with the fake internal caretaker at the time of the incident—and yet he had failed to notice anything amiss!
"The caretaker reported after regaining consciousness that he didn't see any intruder. He only knows that he was possessed by a wraith," the arriving Red Glove said to everyone present.
"How could a wraith operate inside the cathedral?" Several Red Gloves voiced their doubts, but none could provide an answer.
Maybe the wraith worships the Goddess… Leonard muttered inwardly. After further discussion with the Red Gloves and the local Nighthawks, they confirmed their respective suspects and began investigations. Leonard then found an excuse to go to the washroom. Lowering his voice, as if muttering to himself, he asked:
"Old man, didn't you sense anything unusual back then?"
An aged voice echoed in his mind:
"I did… There was a special aura on that person. A very ancient one."
"Then why didn't you tell me earlier?!" Leonard had expected evasion, but today the old man was unexpectedly straightforward.
He paused, then asked solemnly, "An ancient aura… Count Ebner Bryan? Didn't you say your old friend wouldn't stir up trouble?"
"Of course it wasn't him," Pallez said with a chuckle, sneering inwardly: If Rhine wanted something from the Goddess's Church, would he really need to steal it?
"Then who?" Leonard pressed.
"Didn't your discussion just identify a suspect?" Pallez replied calmly. "That mad adventurer—Gehrman Sparrow."
"So it really was him…" Leonard frowned. "But he has teleportation abilities. Who knows where he's already fled to… Old man, you know so many people—whose ancient aura is on Gehrman? Another of your friends?"
"Sorry. I don't recognize it. I only know it feels ancient.
"However, one of the cases you previously investigated gave me an idea. I suspect Gehrman Sparrow and Detective Moriarty are the same person—both agents of a certain existence."
"Which existence?" Leonard whispered, stunned.
The aged voice answered in an oddly restrained tone:
"The Fool who does not belong to this era."
"The Fool who does not belong to this era…" Leonard repeated subconsciously, then abruptly stopped—reciting a full honorific name could easily draw that being's attention.
"I remember suspecting that Count Ebner Bray might be connected to the Fool… So after all this, does it still come back to him?"
Leonard clenched his fist. He left the washroom, slipped into the night, and headed for 28 Kinstrel Street—planning to take the risk of entering Ebner's dream, to probe that old monster and see if he could uncover anything.
Yet the instant he entered the dream, he became lost within it, completely immersed in a beautiful illusion.
In the dream, using his current strength, he "returned" to the day of the Tingen incident. Together with Klein and the captain, he successfully killed Megose, restrained Ince Zangwill lurking behind the scenes, and held on until the Mandated Punishers and Machinery Hivemind arrived.
Just as he was celebrating with Klein, the captain, and the rest of his teammates at Old Ville's restaurant, he was suddenly kicked awake.
Leonard struggled to open his eyes and saw a low-ranking constable holding a short baton, his epaulets bearing only a single "V." The man snarled:
"You can't sleep here!
"This is stipulated by the Poor Law!"
Rubbing his bruised back, Leonard didn't argue and simply walked away.
As he moved off, he inhaled sharply and whispered, "Old man, what just happened?"
"You overestimated yourself and tried to barge into someone else's dream—only to get trapped in a 'dream labyrinth' instead," Pallez replied. "You should be grateful the ritual guarding the dream isn't particularly hostile to intruders."
"Ritual…" Leonard sighed. "That count's defenses really are thorough." He then complained, "Old man, why didn't you warn me?"
"I already told you—Ebner Bray is a Cognizer. Didn't you read the files? Cognizers are adept at prying open and exploiting all kinds of powers. Naturally, the places they live are protected by high-grade and extremely concealed guardians. Besides, he wasn't even home tonight. I originally wanted you to suffer a little and learn your lesson…" Pallez paused, then added, "but it seems he even let you have a pleasant dream. Very Rhine of him."
"It really was a beautiful dream…" Leonard murmured. "But waking up feels like knives stabbing my heart." He fell silent for a moment, then suddenly reacted. "You said he wasn't home tonight?"
"That's right. But you really don't need to suspect him. For him, entering Chanis Gate is no different from going home—there's no need to impersonate an internal caretaker."
"That seems impossible…" Leonard said, still unconvinced—yet he knew the old man had never lied to him about matters like this.
Pallez then hinted meaningfully, "I suggest you continue investigating Sherlock Moriarty and Gehrman Sparrow."
"Old man… you've already guessed something, haven't you?" Leonard asked.
"We'll need to see more."
…
Meanwhile, at 39 Baklund Street in the North Borough, the residence of MP Macht.
While comparing several files, Hazel suddenly sensed something amiss.
She picked up a portrait of Sherlock taken shortly after his arrival in Backlund, when his beard had not yet grown so long, and studied it carefully. Then she retrieved another image—one Elizabeth had secretly pulled from the Tingen Nighthawks' casualty records: the portrait of Klein, Melissa's brother.
"No way…?" she murmured, overlaying the two portraits.
She closed her eyes—and realized her Cryptologist potion had been completely digested.
…
On Sunday morning, as Ebner returned home from Princess Vera's mansion and was enjoying breakfast, the butler came in to report:
"Miss Hazel is calling."
(End of chapter)