Klein and Xio already know my "true" identity, and their strong impressions of my "erudition" have long contributed to my Polymath potion digestion. This time's "feedback" couldn't have come from them.
"The Sun" is in the Forsaken Land of the Gods, so he couldn't have traced "Doctor Strange" to Tingen's serial killer case through the clues I deliberately left in the Tarot Club.
Thus, Audrey and Alger are the most likely culprits… Heh, if it's the latter, he must have realized the meaning of what I said when I left the Blue Avenger.
At this thought, Ebner's lips curved slightly, and his mood lifted. It wasn't just the amusing image of Mr. Hanged Man's potential expression—it was also the satisfaction of seeing his "experiment" succeed.
If this continues, every Tarot Club meeting will bring me a new burst of role-playing feedback… While the results aren't as impactful as I'd hoped, even a mosquito is still meat!
However, Ebner's focus on Polymath remains tied to his "Doctor Strange" persona, and he now had a preliminary plan for furthering it… especially after Edwina had taught him "Edward's Spiritism," a secret technique she had developed herself.
While Ebner mused, Mr. Gaston, Miss Gwyn, and the others disembarked, and the Aarunheim sailors began heading to the town's taverns and brothels, laughing and joking with their arms slung over one another.
It was clear Miss Gwyn's reputation as "Lady Dragon's Might" would soon spread across Damir.
As for the more significant news—that the King of Immortality's five fleets had suffered heavy losses, including the deaths of three commanders—it would take longer to spread. Matters involving a Pirate King weren't openly gossiped about without concrete evidence.
---
Backlund, Minsk Street
Klein put down the scissors, eyeing the three crude paper figures he had cut out. He sighed in exasperation but still folded them carefully and tucked them between his memo sheets before slipping them into his pocket.
No matter how ugly, they're still functional. Waste not, want not.
Just as he was about to head out to the circus to watch a performance and gain ideas for his Magician role-playing, the doorbell rang, its crisp chime echoing through the house.
"A commission? My advertisements should be expiring soon…" Dressed neatly in a shirt with a sharp collar and a thin, warm sweater, Klein approached the door and placed a hand on the doorknob.
As he did, an image of the visitor naturally formed in his mind:
A man in his thirties, well-built, with taut muscles that gave an impression of great strength.
He wore blue worker's overalls and had an expression marked by worry and anxiety. He didn't seem to belong to a gang or secret organization—more likely, he was a skilled laborer or dock supervisor with a decent income.
Murmuring to himself, Klein noted that his spiritual intuition didn't signal danger and opened the door.
"Good afternoon. Are you Detective Moriarty?" The man greeted him politely.
Not here to cause trouble… so he really is… a client?
Smiling, Klein nodded. "Good afternoon. I am Sherlock Moriarty. Do you have a matter you wish to commission me for?"
"Yes, Detective." The man in blue overalls forced a strained smile. "Forgive me for not introducing myself earlier. I'm Thomas Corson, vice president of the Bayam Dockworkers' Union. I'd like to commission you for something…"
Backlund's many docks, most located in the Wharf District, were often referred to by names such as "shipyard."
Deeming it impolite to keep the conversation at the door, Klein interrupted with a smile, "Please, come in."
Thomas, realizing his lapse, entered cautiously and sat stiffly on the sofa, his demeanor shy and reserved.
This guy seems oddly insecure… He's so physically imposing, but his personality is so timid…
While thinking this, Klein took out a copper penny and began rolling it dexterously between his fingers.
"What's the issue?" he asked casually.
Thomas's face contorted with hesitation. After a moment, he sighed and mustered the courage to speak:
"I'd like you to investigate something strange… Specifically, why my wife suddenly wants to divorce me without warning. Even though it would mean returning to a life of hardship, she refuses to change her mind…"
Either you've done something wrong, or she's found someone new. Another adultery case? Too bad the "bodyguard" lady isn't here to suppress the camera's flash this time. Then again, judging by Thomas's financial status, he probably can't afford a camera…
Suppressing his internal complaints, Klein maintained a calm tone. "Forgive me for being blunt, but could it be that some of your actions have caused misunderstandings? Perhaps you've grown too close to another lady?"
"No… I'm busy arranging work for laborers from dawn till dusk. I barely have time or energy for anything else. And in my work environment, I don't even encounter women," Thomas replied confidently.
"What reason did your wife give for wanting a divorce?" Klein frowned slightly and asked further.
Thomas hesitated for two seconds before replying with difficulty:
"She said I'm always taking out my frustrations on her, treating her badly, and… forcing myself on her when she's unwilling…"
Sir, if that's true, I sincerely hope your wife divorces you soon. Even as an outsider, I find your behavior unacceptable…
Though Klein's expression remained neutral, inwardly, he was reluctant to take the case.
Thomas, caught in his own emotions, continued venting:
"I admit it's true. When work frustrated me, I took it out on her. But her recent attitude is unusual… She used to endure it silently, understanding that I wasn't like that every day and that I do love my family.
"Yet over the past two weeks, she's become increasingly intolerant and extreme, even though I haven't laid a hand on her recently…
"What's more, I've heard similar stories from colleagues and other dockworkers—multiple families are suddenly facing marital crises.
"That's why I suspect someone's been influencing them behind the scenes. If my wife leaves me, her quality of life will plummet, and she might even go bankrupt. Isn't that exactly what those people want?
"I'm sure the people deceiving her are up to no good!"
You're jumping to conclusions without evidence. Maybe your wife just doesn't want to endure anymore?
Still, if multiple families are experiencing crises simultaneously, it could indicate a larger conspiracy… Hmm, worth investigating.
Rising, Klein excused himself politely. "Pardon me for a moment. I need to visit the restroom."
In the washroom, Klein recited the divination statement: "Someone is orchestrating Thomas Corson's wife's desire to divorce him."
After repeating it seven times, he tossed the copper penny and caught it in his palm.
It was heads—confirming that someone was indeed inciting the dockworkers' wives to divorce.
But what could the instigator gain from this?
Frowning, Klein retrieved the yellow crystal pendant from his cuff and performed a pendulum divination to determine whether investigating this matter would be dangerous for him.
The result: There was danger, but it was minor.
Nodding to himself, Klein returned to the living room and resumed his seat.
"I can take your case," he said. "But this investigation might involve some danger, so my fee won't be low."
"Ten pounds! As long as you uncover the truth, I can pay ten pounds! If my wife reconciles with me, I'll add a five-pound gratuity," Thomas declared resolutely.
The money had been pooled by other affected men, some even covering his workload so he could visit the detective.
Ten pounds… That's more than Mr. Samuel next door earns in a week… While Thomas's personality is flawed, his concern for his wife seems genuine. If he cares, why did he hurt her?
Sighing inwardly, Klein analyzed Thomas's emotional state and confirmed he wasn't lying. Smiling slightly, he said, "Deal!"
---
In Damir Port, Ebner returned to his quarters with the "Azure Brooch," his reward for accompanying Mr. Gaston back to school.
Noticing the time nearing 4 PM, close to Blue Star time, Ebner decided to conduct a Spirit Channeling ritual to ask Vice Admiral Iceberg if the interception operation had been successful.
Skillfully, he drew the holy symbol of the God of Knowledge and Wisdom—a knowing eye atop an open book—and prepared the altar.
Within the spiritual wall, he lit candles, applied lavender and mint extract to the flames, and took a step back.
Although his tacit understanding with the God of Knowledge made these steps unnecessary, Ebner felt maintaining ritualistic respect was worth the minor cost of materials.
He recited in ancient Hermes:
"I beseech the power of knowledge;
"I beseech the strength of reason;
"I beseech the favor of the God of Wisdom;
"I beseech You to connect me with 'Seeker of Knowledge, Researcher of Spirit World Creatures, Vice Admiral Iceberg, Edwina Edwards of Lenburg.'"
---
Whoosh!
As the chant echoed, the altar turned cold, and the flames on the candles flickered, tinged with pale green light.
The Pure White Eye activated, alerting Ebner that a spiritual entity was attempting to invade his body.
He had anticipated this—spirit channeling rituals inherently involve allowing the target's stellar body to possess the caster for effective communication. Without adequate safeguards, most people risk harm.
Based on his interactions with Edwina, Ebner believed she bore no ill will. With the God of Knowledge overseeing, she was trustworthy.
More importantly, Ebner had the Pure White Eye as a defensive tool. He restricted Edwina's possession to his right hand and ear.
His right hand lifted autonomously, grabbing a prepared pen and swiftly writing:
"Maria has escaped danger. She is aware of Doctor Strange's contributions and asked me to thank you on her behalf."
The elegant, flowing handwriting was a stark contrast to Ebner's usual style.
She already guessed what I wanted to ask… Ebner mused before inquiring, "What about the Finks Lion?"
After a brief pause, his hand wrote: "She said she would send someone to locate it, but she likely won't have time to hunt it herself. She can only provide a general location."
"That's fine," Ebner replied, delighted. Once he had a location, his methods would suffice to deal with a non-demi-god extraordinary creature.
After a moment's hesitation, his hand wrote again: "If you're heading to the Southern Continent, consider taking the Golden Dream. I'd be happy to use the opportunity to exchange some knowledge with you."
With that, the chilling presence within Ebner's body vanished. Clearly, the spirit channeling's time limit had been reached, and Edwina had ended the ritual.
---
In the Wharf District, after visiting several troubled households, Klein frowned deeply.
"All the affected families worship the Lord of Storms?" he murmured to himself.
(End of Chapter)