'Was it the transmigration or the luck ritual that strengthened my senses?'
Klein resisted the urge to whirl around—years of detective novels and crime dramas whispered in the back of his mind.
'Don't react. Don't alert them.'
He slowly turned, gazing at the Khoy River as though he was simply admiring it.
He took in the trees and the lawns—unable to spot any suspicious figure.
Klein continued walking, knuckles white around his cane. His heartbeat pressed against his ribs.
He approached a public carriage. "Iron... Zoute—no. Champagne Street."
'I can't go home with a cat tailing me.'
After paying six pence for the trip, the carriage jolted forward.
And just like that—the suffocating sensation vanished.
He let out a long, shaky breath, tension draining from his shoulders.
'So it was real.'
....
Klein stepped down onto Champagne Street… and the feeling returned.
A sharp gaze.
He acted as though he noticed nothing.
Passing Blackthorn Security Company, he made his way to a cathedral of gray and black stone—Saint Selena Cathedral, heart of the Church of the Evernight Goddess in Tingen.
A perfect refuge for a believer of the Evernight Goddess.
Klein stepped inside, cane tapping softly against the marble floor.
The sense of being watched vanished once again.
He slipped into a booth—a confessional room.
"My child," came the bishop's gentle voice, "what troubles you?"
Klein reached into his pocket and retrieved a badge—one of the "regulation items" Old Neil had given him.
"I need to find Dunn Smith."
The bishop went quiet. Klein heard the clinking of chains before a hidden door opened. "Turn right from here. Walk to the end—there's a hidden door."
"Thank you, Father." Klein bowed slightly.
....
At the end of the hidden passage, a priest appeared and guided Klein toward Chanis Gate.
Klein recalled Rozanne once saying, "If you go left from the crossroads toward Chanis Gate, you'll reach Saint Selena Cathedral."
Now, he knew the rest of the path—and had emerged inside Blackthorn Security Company.
"Hi, Rozanne." He approached and tapped the table lightly.
Rozanne shot upright, almost knocking over her chair. "Oh, hi! Nice weather today—Klein?! Why are you here?"
"I need to see captain," Klein said simply.
"He's in the room across from the storage. Why do you need to see him?"
"It's a secret," Klein replied with a cheeky smile.
"A secret? Well, next time, lightly knock when waking me—I am a lady after all."
Klein had already left and didn't hear her last words.
He arrived at an office.
"Come in," said Dunn Smith's low, steady voice.
"Good morning, captain."
"Morning," Dunn responded bluntly. "What brings you here?"
"Someone's following me. I came from the cathedral."
Dunn leaned back and studied Klein in silence.
"Go back the way you came, and do whatever you like," Dunn said plainly.
"Huh?"
Dunn refused to respond. He simply stared.
Klein thought for some time before the meaning dawned on him—forcing him to leave.
....
Klein did some target practice at Zouteland Shooting Club before heading home.
Inside sat a man in a linen shirt at the desk.
Klein's pulse spiked—then eased.
"Good morning—no, afternoon, Benson."
Benson Moretti, Klein's older brother. Where Klein carried a scholar's air, Benson bore the weight of responsibility.
After losing both their parents, the Moretti siblings had been supported solely by Benson, who worked at an import and export company as a clerk.
"Good afternoon, Klein. How was the interview?"
"Terrible."
Benson blinked until Klein's grin gave the truth away.
"Actually, I didn't even attend. Found a job before the interview—pays three pounds a week."
Benson smiled warmly. "Feels like I'm watching a child grow up. Not bad.
"Anyway—I've got to head to the pier soon. Tomorrow, I'll go with you and Melissa to check for any affordable terraces for rent. I also need to drop by Mr. Franky's place."
"Why?" Klein tilted his head.
"Have you forgotten? Our old lease isn't up."
"True," Klein nodded. "But do you really think that slum lord will return our deposit?"
Benson chuckled. "It's fine. I can talk him down—he's dumber than a baboon!"
The two brothers burst into laughter, clutching their stomachs.
....
After a light conversation and lunch, Benson left for work at the pier, while Klein bought foodstuff from the market—still sensing that hidden gaze following him.
....
Evening arrived with quiet warmth.
The Morettis gathered for dinner.
Melissa looked at her plate, inhaling deeply. "Mmm… Klein, are you sure you've never cooked before?"
Klein chuckled. "You know that. Come on, dig in."
The three Morettis ate in delight, baffled by Klein's sudden cooking skills.
After a meal filled with warmth and laughter, the siblings went to bed.
....
Klein drifted into a hazy, dream-dark sleep. A familiar figure stood before him, wearing calm, gray eyes.
"Captain!" Klein blurted, realizing he was dreaming.
"Someone has broken into your room," Dunn said, voice steady as stone. "Drive him into the corridor—we'll handle the rest."
The scene dissolved, colors bursting like bubbles in water.
Klein's eyes snapped open.
Turning toward the window, he spotted a thin, unfamiliar man rummaging through his desk.
Badump. Badump. Badump.
Klein's heart slammed against his ribs.
He forced his breathing to steady. As soon as he thought of Dunn, a quiet trust seemed to settle over him.
Klein slowly slid his hand beneath his pillow.
His fingers wrapped around the familiar texture of the brass revolver.
He lifted it inch by inch.
Klein swiftly raised the revolver toward the intruder's back.
Instead of pulling the trigger, he held back. That way, the intruder wouldn't know whether he was a calm veteran or a trembling amateur.
'A nuclear bomb is most powerful before it's launched.' Klein smiled inwardly. He wasn't someone who stayed calm under pressure—he was someone who prepared for chaos.
"Good evening, sir." Klein chuckled. "Raise your hands. Slowly. Turn around. Don't startle me, or I might pull the trigger by accident."
The intruder obeyed. When he turned, his eyes didn't show fear—they showed calculation.
"Let's take this outside, shall we? Tread lightly."
The man's gaze flickered, but he complied.
He reached for the door and, in a sudden burst of motion, slammed it shut and dropped into a roll.
A voice rose from the corridor—deep, steady, and eerily calm.
"Oh, the threat of horror, the hope of crimson cries,
"One thing at least is certain—this life flies,
"One thing is certain, the rest are lies,
"The flower that once has bloomed forever dies."
The melody carried a strange tranquility.
Klein felt his eyelids grow heavy.
The intruder was gone.
Klein sat in silence as minutes passed.
"It's settled," came a voice from the hall.
Klein padded barefoot to the door. Outside stood Dunn Smith.
They walked to the end of the corridor together.
"It took me some time to enter his dream, but it's done." Dunn's voice remained steady, yet weary.
"Do you know who he was?" Klein asked, tension ebbing away.
Dunn nodded. "He's a member of the Secret Order. They date back to the Fourth Epoch. The Antigonus family's notebook entered the market through his hands.
"They won't let this go easily. They're sure to send more people. We'll hunt down the rest. But these people… they hide well—like rats in the sewers."
Dunn shifted his gaze to Klein, noticing his calm but worried expression. He patted Klein's shoulder and gave a warm, tired smile. "You did good. We owe tonight's success to your quick thinking. Because of that, you've earned a chance."
"A chance?" Klein echoed, breath catching.
"Yes." Dunn's tone grew solemn. "To become a Beyonder. You can choose from the starting Sequences of our incomplete pathways.
"Or you can wait—save up merit—and choose the starting Sequence of the pathway the Goddess has granted us Nighthawks: The Sleepless."
Dunn turned, the crimson glow haloing his coat.
Klein's heart pounded—but this time with excitement. "If I choose now, which Sequence 9s are available?"
"Three. Aside from Sleepless, we have formulas for three more.
"First is Corpse Collector—great for self-defense. Resistance to decay and cold, perceiving spirits. Daly chose it once. Sequence 7 is Spirit Medium."
Klein's brows lifted. The name alone sent a faint thrill through him.
Dunn continued, "If you wish to open your eyes to the mystical, we have Mystery Pryer—Old Neil's path—and Seer, but they lack defensive ability."
Klein's brows lifted again, midway through Dunn's explanation.
"If you're considering the Seer," Dunn said, gazing deeply at him, "we don't have all the potion formulas—only Sequence 9."
'Seer?' Klein's breath caught.
Emperor Roselle's diary flashed through his mind.
In an entry, he regretted not choosing Apprentice, Marauder… or Seer.