While muttering to himself, Azk silently glanced at Quentin Cohen, seemingly seeking a clue or inspiration. With sunken eyes and deep blue eyes, Cohen shook his head without hesitation and said: "I have no memory of it at all." "... "Well, perhaps it's just a matter of similar root structures." Azek lowered his left hand and smiled wryly. Klein was slightly disappointed by this result, but couldn't help adding: "Professor, Mr. Azek, as you know, I'm very interested in exploring and reconstructing the history of the Quaternary period. If you have any thoughts or have obtained any other materials, could you write to me?" "No problem." Because of what happened today, Professor Cohen, the senior associate professor with silver-white hair, was quite satisfied with Klein. Azek nodded in agreement and said: "Your latest update, please enter the browser and visit - New Penqigetouge for viewing." "Temporary, but we're moving soon. I'll write to you then." Klein replied respectfully. Professor Cohen, the senior associate professor, shook his black cane and said: "Indeed, it's time to change to a better environment." At this moment, Klein glanced at the newspaper in Azek's hand and deliberated before saying: "Professor, Mr. Azek, about the matter of Welch and Naya, what did the newspaper say? I only knew a little from the police in charge of the investigation." Azek was about to answer when Professor Cohen, the senior associate professor with few wrinkles, suddenly, following the golden chain on his black tailcoat, took out a watch. Click! He turned it on and pointed the staff forward: "Meeting is about to start, Azek, we can't delay. Give the newspaper to Moretti." "OK." Azek handed the newspaper he had finished reading to Klein, "We need to go upstairs. Remember to write to me. And the fastest update from me and Professor Cohen, please enter the browser and visit - New Penqigetouge for viewing." He smiled and turned around, leaving the two gentlemen together as they left the room. Klein removed his hat and saluted, watching the two gentlemen leave. Then he said goodbye to the owner of this office, Harvin Stone, and walked slowly out of the gray three-story building through the corridor. Under the sunlight, he picked up his cane, unfolded the newspaper, and saw at the top: "Tyngen Morning News." There are so many newspapers and magazines of all kinds in Tyngen... Morning News, Evening News, Honest People's Newspaper, Beckland Daily, Tasok Newspaper, Family Magazine, Story Review... Klein casually recalled, and seven or eight names immediately came to mind. Of course, some of them were not from the local area, they came from the "distribution" based on steam trains. In today's era when industrial papermaking and printing have become increasingly advanced, the price of a newspaper has dropped to 1 penny, and the coverage area has thus become wider and wider. Klein didn't carefully read the other content, quickly found the "House Robbery and Murder Case" report in the "News Section"; "... According to the police department, the scene inside Mr. Welch's house was horrifying beyond description. All the gold, jewels, and banknotes, as well as all valuable and easily portable items, were gone, not even a single copper penny remained. There is reason to believe that this was a group of cruel and vicious criminals who would not hesitate to kill innocent people they saw, such as Mr. Welch, or Ms. Naya. "This is a violation of the law of the kingdom! This is a provocation to public safety! No one wants to encounter something like this! Of course, the good news is that the police department has identified the perpetrators and caught the main offender. We will provide follow-up reports as soon as possible." "Reporter, John Browning." He had dealt with and concealed it... Klein walked along the avenue, giving a barely noticeable nod. He casually flipped through the newspaper, strolling while reading other news and serialized stories. Suddenly, all the hairs on his back stood up, as if there were needles pricking there. Is someone watching me? Judging me? Monitoring me? One after another, thoughts arose, and Klein vaguely gained enlightenment. During his time on Earth, he had also felt an intangible gaze, eventually discovering the source of the gaze, but never once had it reacted as clearly as it did now. "Conclusion" was clear! The same events in the original owner's memory fragments were also like this! Was it a time travel, or that strange "transference ritual" that made my "sixth sense" stronger? Klein suppressed the urge to search for the watcher, learned from novels, movies, and TV series, slowly stopped walking, put away the newspaper, and looked towards the Hoy River. Then, he turned his head slightly in various directions, naturally turned around, and took in the entire situation with his eyes. There was no one here except for trees, lawns, and students passing by in the distance. However, Klein was certain that someone was still watching him! This... Klein's heart raced, and his blood surged and flowed in intense thumps. He unfolded the newspaper, half-covered his face, afraid that someone would notice his expression was off. At the same time, he clenched his walking stick and prepared to draw his gun. One step, two steps, three steps, Klein moved slowly, just as before. The feeling of being spied on and scrutinized still remained, but no sudden danger erupted. His body walked the avenue stiffly, reaching the waiting point for the public carriage, and fortunately, he found that a carriage was coming just then. "Iron... Zott... No, Champagne Street." Klein successively rejected his own thoughts. He initially intended to go home directly, but was afraid of leading that unknown and purposeless watcher to the apartment, then to Zottlan Street, to "night watchmen" or colleagues for help, but was worried that the other party was baiting him, causing him to expose himself voluntarily. So, he had to randomly choose a location. "Six pence." The toll collector replied familiarly. Klein didn't take gold coins with him when he went out today. He placed them in his usual place to hide money, only taking two sous in paper money. And he had spent the same amount of money when he came here, so he had exactly 1 sous and 6 pence left on him. So he took out all the coins and gave them to the toll collector. On the carriage, he found a seat and sat down. As the carriage door closed, Klein felt that the uneasy feeling of being watched finally disappeared! He slowly exhaled, feeling his hands and feet trembling slightly. What should I do? What should I do next? Klein looked out of the carriage window, desperately thinking of a solution. Without knowing the purpose of the watcher, assume it's malicious first! One after another, thoughts emerged, but Klein rejected them one by one. A person who had never experienced something like this used several minutes to find an idea. It must be reported to the "night watchmen", only they can truly solve the problem! But you can't just go there directly, that would expose you. Maybe this is the other party's purpose... Following this line of thinking, Klein roughed out one plan after another, and his ideas gradually became clearer. Whew! He let out a thick breath, regaining his basic calmness, and carefully looked at the rapidly passing scenery outside the window. Until the carriage reached Champaign Street, nothing unexpected happened, but when Klein pushed the door open and got out, he immediately felt that uneasy feeling of being stared at and being watched! He pretended not to notice anything, took the newspaper, held the walking stick, and slowly walked towards Zotlan Street. However, he did not enter that street but went around to the back of Red Moon Street, where there was a beautiful white square and a tall steeple church! St. Catherine's Church! The headquarters of the Night Goddess Church in Tingen! As a believer, coming to participate in the Mass and pray on a rest day was nothing strange. This cathedral had a distinct Earth-Gothic style, overall black, with a tall, mottled bell tower on the high front facade, inserted into the huge central pilaster between the red and blue checkered windows, reaching into the clouds. Klein entered the church, walked along the aisle towards the main prayer hall, along the way, small narrow windows with blue and red fine patterns let in a stream of colored light, blueish near black, reddish like the moon, making the surroundings extremely dark. That feeling of being watched disappeared, and Klein's expression was normal, without joy, as he slowly approached the open main prayer hall. There were no high windows here, the deep darkness became the main character, but behind the arched altar, on the wall directly opposite the entrance, there were about ten or twenty fist-sized round holes that penetrated outward, allowing the brilliant, pure sunlight to shine in, condensed and bright. It was like pedestrians in the dark, suddenly looking up and seeing the stars, seeing countless brilliant, so pure, so sacred ones. Even though he had always believed that gods could be studied and understood, Klein couldn't help but lower his head. In the deep and gentle preaching voice of the bishop, he walked calmly along the aisle separating the left and right seats, found a place without anyone and close to the passage, and slowly sat down. He placed the walking stick behind the front chair, took off his hat, and together with the newspaper, placed them on his lap, then crossed his hands and pressed his forehead down. The entire process was done slowly and orderly, just like really praying. Klein closed his eyes, quietly listening to the bishop's voice in the dark vision: "They were naked, without clothes or food, without any cover in the cold." "They were soaked by the rain because there was no shelter, so they hugged the rocks tightly." "They were mothers whose children were taken away, they were orphans who lost hope, they were poor people forced to leave the right path." "The night did not abandon them, it bestowed upon them favor." ... (Note 1) The echoes reverberated, each sound reaching his ears. Klein was plunged into darkness before his eyes, and his soul felt as if it had been cleansed. He calmly contemplated these things until the bishop finished his sermon and concluded the Mass. The bishop opened the door of the confessional room beside him, and a line of gentlemen and ladies formed up. Klein opened his eyes, put on his hat, picked up his cane and newspaper, and followed the line to stand in order. After about twenty minutes, it was his turn. Stepping in and closing the door behind him, Klein's eyes once again became dim. "Child, what do you want to say?" the bishop's voice came from behind the wooden bars. Klein took out the "Special Operations Unit Seventh Team" badge from his pocket and passed it to the bishop through the gap. "Someone is following me. I want to find Dunn Smith." As if drenched in darkness, his tone became gentle. The bishop took the badge, remained silent for a few seconds, and said: "The door of the confessional room is on the right. All the way, there is a hidden door beside it. After entering, someone will lead you in." While speaking, he pulled a rope in the room, so that a certain priest heard the sound of the bell swinging. Klein returned the badge, took off his hat, placed it on his chest, made a slight bow, and then turned around and pushed the door open. After confirming that the feeling of being watched no longer occurred, he put on his black half-peak hat again, with no extra expressions on his face, held his cane, and turned to the right, walking all the way to the arched altar. On the wall facing the side, he found the hidden door, silently opened it, and stepped inside. The hidden door quietly closed, and a middle-aged man in a black priest's robe appeared in the glow of the gas light, appearing in Klein's vision. "What is it?" The middle-aged priest asked briefly. Klein showed the badge and repeated the words he had said to the bishop earlier. The middle-aged priest did not ask any more questions and turned his body, moving silently forward. Klein nodded, stroked his hat, held the black cane, and quietly followed the other person behind. Rosanne had said that at the crossroads leading to "Charnis Gate", to the left was the Church of Saint Serena.
