At the Cragg Club shooting range, after Klein's horsemanship instructor Talim had tested his skills in marksmanship and combat, Talim finally revealed his purpose: a friend of his wanted to hire a detective, and he had recommended the famous Sherlock Moriarty.
I hope it's not another cheating spouse or missing pet, Klein thought dryly, but he kept his smile as he asked, "What type of investigation does your friend need?"
Talim shrugged and said, "He'll be here at the club shortly, so you two can talk directly." He rubbed a spot where Klein had struck him during their spar. "I don't actually know the details, but he's a reporter—Mike Joseph from Daily Observer. I think you've heard of him."
"Mike Joseph from Daily Observer?" The name rang a bell for Klein. After a moment's thought, he remembered: several of the "Hero Detective's" earliest articles had been penned by this reporter.
When he'd first realized that Mr. Tower was also the "Hero Detective" Bryian, Klein had collected information on Bryian, including several articles written by Mike Joseph.
Still, Klein decided to confirm. "The reporter who covered Bryian Detective?"
"That's him. Mike got the exclusive opportunity to interview Detective Bryian multiple times, earning himself a few accolades and a near-top spot at the paper," Talim said, a trace of admiration in his tone.
"Then why isn't Mr. Mike going to Bryian Detective?" Klein asked, puzzled.
"As far as I know, Bryian Detective is leaving Backlund for a while. Mike's probably seeing him off right now, so he'll be a little late," Talim replied, leading the way to the stairwell.
Klein trailed behind, feeling both relieved and slightly disappointed. He was relieved because if "Mr. Tower" was leaving Backlund, Klein wouldn't have to worry about an unexpected meeting and possible exposure. He didn't trust his disguise enough to fool a renowned detective—especially while carrying Confession, which would make his identity as "The World" unmistakable if seen.
The disappointment, however, came from losing the option to rely on Tower's formidable strength to help him achieve his goal. After all, while Miss Justice and Miss Judgment had access to funds and information, they couldn't match Mr. Tower's prowess in battle. They might even be weaker than him...
Just as he calculated his next steps, overlapping voices of prayer began to echo in his mind.
Talim noticed him stop in his tracks and asked, "What's wrong?"
Klein smiled. "I think I'll head to the washroom first."
...
In a hunting ground in the suburbs of Backlund, Audrey held the reins of a chestnut mare and moved to a quiet corner, pretending to consult with Viscount Grelint.
Audrey wore fitted white riding pants tucked into knee-high black boots. Her upper body was dressed in a simple blouse paired with a fitted, black, tailored rider's jacket, and her protective helmet matched the overall dark tone. She looked exceptionally stylish, a beauty of a different kind from her usual self.
Xio, disguised as one of Viscount Grelint's attendants, had hurried over from the station and glanced at Audrey's long, straight legs with a hint of envy, subconsciously raising herself on tiptoes.
She quickly composed herself, though, and took the stack of papers delivered by a golden retriever named Susie, pretending to leaf through them with curiosity.
She already knew their contents, of course—she'd been present when Mr. Fool had issued the "investigation" task.
After the two parties agreed to the commission of 100 pounds to find "Lanevus," Audrey took the chance to ask, "Any updates on the Psychological Alchemists?"
Since learning the secret of the gods from Mr. Tower at the Tarot Club, Audrey's search for the Psychological Alchemists wasn't just about obtaining her potion formula—she also wanted to find information on the "Demigod dragon's remains" as soon as possible. She didn't like the feeling of being in debt.
Fors flipped a lock of her long, wavy hair back and exchanged a glance with Xio before saying:
"I recently joined a new gathering of Beyonders. Apparently, both the 'Spectator' and 'Mind Reader' potion formulas have appeared there before. I suspect some members may be affiliated with the Psychological Alchemists."
"I'll apply to bring you with me the next time there's a meeting," Fors offered.
"Sounds good," Audrey replied, purposefully not hiding her pleasure.
...
At the Fecund Church in Enmatt Port...
Dunn Smith rubbed his forehead tiredly. Currently, he wore the face of the film version of "Iron Man," albeit with his usual deep-set eyes... and slightly receding hairline.
Recalling the rather embarrassing things he'd done in the dreamscape, Dunn cast a sidelong glance at the brown-haired priest "lady" across from him and asked helplessly, "Ms. Closfia, I know you could suppress the negative effects of this mask. Why do you always let it do as it pleases?"
Closfia—Judy's mother, a Demigod of the Spectator Path, and the "Lady of Sloth" in the Psychological Alchemists—chuckled as she glanced at him and said, "Because I'm too lazy to bother."
She's even more mischievous than Daly was, Dunn thought. Before he could voice that thought, she continued, "You should have noticed by now that the mental dissonance has nearly healed. All that's left is to 'act' and digest the potion."
"But acting shouldn't require this mask..." Dunn muttered, realizing her implication but wanting to argue.
"Would you really be a competent Nightmare if you just acted on your own? The 'Nightmare' who snatches ice cream from kids in dreams only to coax it back when they cry?"
Lady Closfia teased with a wry smile.
Dunn was momentarily speechless, unable to argue with her. He himself didn't understand why imitating such actions in his dreams, like he'd done when stealing Klein's food in the past, wasn't working now.
"But it's getting ridiculous to keep acting out Roselle's version of 'Iron Man.' It's embarrassing, and after doing it enough times, the nearby residents might even stop being afraid of dreaming about it," Dunn tried once more.
"You're not wrong…" Lady Closfia seemed to ponder his words for a moment. Just when Dunn thought he'd be freed, she continued, "Then I'll speak with the 'Clown Mask' and arrange a different script... how about the Hulk? That'll be plenty frightening."
Dunn rubbed his temples, lifted the cup on the table, took a sip of coffee, and smiled wryly. "Have mercy on me, please."
Closfia laughed, covering her mouth before finally sobering and saying seriously, "What if it were your enemy? Would you have the courage and the resolve to cast the 'Nightmare' on them?"
Dunn's deep-set eyes regarded her thoughtfully as he asked, "You know where Lanevus is?"
"Why not Ince Zangwill?" Closfia asked, a hint of amusement in her tone.
"Heh, Nightmare's power can't scare a Demigod... besides, that man's become a far more capable Nightmare than I ever could be," Dunn sighed, smiling self-deprecatingly.
"At least you're aware… But Lanevus isn't easy either. He bears a trace of divinity from the True Creator. Unless you find a way to purify it, you won't be able to touch him. And remember, you've seen the True Creator's 'image' in a dream... I imagine it wasn't pleasant," Closfia said with a wag of her finger.
Dunn remained silent for a few seconds before finally asking, "Where is he?"
"Backlund… but you'll have to search to pinpoint his location," Closfia replied.
"What do I need to do for you to intervene and destroy that trace of divinity?" Dunn asked the priest, his gaze unwavering. He seemed willing to pay any price.
"I have a task for you," Closfia replied, smiling. "Don't worry—it won't make you compromise your principles."
...
On the steam train, Ebner snapped back to reality after about ten minutes in the Source Fortress studying room, rubbing his aching forehead and purchasing a cup of iced sweet tea from the attendant.
Meanwhile, at Cragg Club, Klein finally emerged from the washroom.
(Chapter End)