Chapter 158: Alger's Good Luck
Backlund, 69 Rose Street.
At this moment, Klein stood before a beautiful two-story townhouse.
Out of a detective's professional ethics, and that faint sense of unease within him, he ultimately came here.
If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have needed to do so, but thinking about how badly he was harmed by the other party when he was in Tingen, he still decided to gather more clues and take the initiative into his own hands.
Based on the information he obtained from the short employer and his divination, Klein confirmed that when Lorne. De Senck was in Backlund, he rented the second floor of this house.
He originally intended to knock on the door as Lorne's friend and conduct a routine inquiry.
But then he thought, he knew almost nothing about his true situation, and if the landlord asked for details, he would easily be exposed. And if he directly revealed his identity as a detective, it would likely cause the other party's dislike and non-cooperation.
After much deliberation, Klein decided to take a more direct and 'professional' approach: a stealthy investigation.
He took out a citrine pendulum and whispered, "A stealthy investigation will be dangerous."
A moment later, the pendulum rotated slightly clockwise – this indicated a certain risk, but one that was within controllable limits.
"There shouldn't be any major problems."
Klein believed that he was already a Sequence 7, and silently searching an ordinary civilian house, even if there was a risk, the problem shouldn't be significant.
Furthermore, he had inexplicably joined a secret organization, and the free time he had left was already limited.
Alas—thinking of the two teammates still living in his house, he sighed.
Unmarried men and women living in the same house, he really didn't know what Meihua 5 was thinking.
Having confirmed his target, Klein no longer hesitated. He observed his surroundings, then agilely slipped into the alley at the side of the house.
He looked up at the closed window on the second floor, crouched slightly, then with a push, silently climbed the protrusions and water pipes on the wall, easily flipping onto the second-floor windowsill.
With the Clown's control over his body, the entire process was smooth and fluid, making almost no sound.
He took out his tools from his pocket, skillfully fiddled with the window latch a few times, and with a soft 'click,' the window was successfully opened.
Feeling more like a thief than a detective, he mocked himself inwardly.
Then, Klein slipped into the room, and a scent of dust mixed with a faint smell of ink wafted towards him.
The furnishings in the room were simple: a bed, a wardrobe, a desk. It seemed the room's owner hadn't returned for a long time.
Using the moonlight filtering through the window, he began his careful search.
He first pulled open the wardrobe, finding several well-made men's suits hanging inside, all conservative in style. Then, he went to the desk and opened the drawer.
There were no diaries or letters in the drawer, only a stack of business documents.
Klein casually picked up one, and by the moonlight, he made out the writing on it.
Hall Foundation... Audrey Hall.
His pupils suddenly constricted.
This Lorne. De Senck actually held Justice's foundation.
This discovery surprised him somewhat. He suppressed the turmoil in his heart and quickly flipped through a few other contracts, finding that most were inheritance documents related to a munitions factory.
He was also an arms dealer. After a while, confirming that there seemed to be no more valuable clues in the room, he was a little disappointed and decided to leave.
However, just as he reached the window, preparing to climb out the way he came, his body suddenly stiffened.
An invisible force fixed him in place, making him unable to move.
"Sir, illegal entry is prohibited here."
At the same time in Bayam.
Alger took out a gilded pocket watch from his Pregnant, opened it with a 'snap,' and checked the time.
The hands pointed to ten o'clock at night.
This exquisitely crafted gilded pocket watch was something he had obtained from the leather trunk salvaged from the sea.
Such small antiques wouldn't sell for much on the black market, so he simply kept it for himself.
According to the plan, he was going to attend a secret underground gathering to see if he could find the materials he needed.
Although the situation in Bayam was tense now, causing many Beyonder materials to rise in price, Alger believed this was also an opportunity. In a chaotic situation, there would always be some guys in a hurry to escape or in urgent need of money who would sell off good things that were usually never seen.
And, most importantly, he had connections with the Storm Church, so he wasn't afraid of Official pursuit.
Seeing that it was almost time, Alger took out a featureless black mask that covered the upper half of his face from his hiding place, put it on, and then, familiar with the route, walked into the back alley of an unassuming tavern.
The meeting place was in the basement of an abandoned warehouse inside.
However, after the gathering began, Alger felt a hint of disappointment. The items he wanted to buy were not present; most were low-Sequence materials and formulas. He could only idly buy some conventional materials to replenish his Spirituality, preparing to head back.
Just then, a woman wearing a plain white mask spoke suddenly in a processed, hoarse voice:
"Seeking rosell's diary at a high price."
"Of course, exchanging diaries is also an option."
Cattelya, wearing a mask, sighed softly in her heart.
Some time ago, Queen Mystic gave her a task, asking her to keep an eye out for and investigate a batch of new rosell's diary that had suddenly appeared on the market.
Originally, she could have completely delegated this matter to her subordinates. But because of the Storm Church's unusually active presence at sea recently, to avoid unnecessary trouble, she had to temporarily dock the 'Future' at a secret port.
Adhering to a serious and responsible attitude towards the Queen's mission, since she couldn't go to sea, she simply came to search for information herself.
These days, she had already entered and exited several similar underground gatherings with a mask on, but had found no clues.
She had expected this time to be the same as before, yielding nothing,
But as it turned out, someone actually responded.
Under everyone's gaze, a man wearing a black mask slowly raised his hand.
Alger raised his hand.
Thanks to Mr. Fool, he had indeed accumulated quite a few of rosell's diary.
Most of them had already been sacrificed to Mr. Fool, and those that hadn't been sacrificed, he had firmly memorized. Even more coincidentally, a few days ago, he had found several new 'diaries' in that salvaged leather trunk.
At sea, not many people were interested in Rosell. It was rare to encounter a Rosell enthusiast today; exchanging these 'useless' diaries for some money didn't seem like a bad idea.
And the other party said they could exchange, so exchanging some 'outdated' diaries for a new batch was also good.
What good luck, this way I won't have to specifically collect the diaries Mr. Fool needs for a while—Alger thought.