With a sudden start, Klein took a step back, unsure if he was awake or still in a dream.
The figure removed his black hat with a slight bow and said with a deep, sly smile, "Allow me to reintroduce myself, I am the night watcher, Duncan Smith."
The night watcher? Wasn't that the extraordinary team code name mentioned by the Black Night Goddess Church, as noted by the "justice" and "hanged man"? Klein had a sudden realization and blurted out, "You manipulate dreams? You made me have that dream just now?"
Duncan Smith, the night watcher, replaced his black hat, concealing his slightly receding hairline. With a hint of amusement in his deep gray eyes, he replied, "No, I merely entered your dream to provide necessary guidance."
His voice, rich and gentle, resonated softly in the dimly lit corridor, not disturbing the serene atmosphere. "In dreams, though suppressed emotions and various dark thoughts are amplified, making everything seem chaotic, absurd, and insane, reality still exists within, concealed yet tangible. To someone like me, experienced in such matters, everything is clear and easily discernible. I trust the you in the dream more than the waking you."
This... Who could control their dreams like this? If I dream about things on Earth, wouldn't Duncan Smith find out? Klein shuddered, filled with dread at the thought of his dream encounter.
But he soon detected something peculiar, for he remembered being remarkably lucid and rational in the dream, knowing what to say and what not to say.
In simple terms, it felt nothing like a dream!
So, did Duncan Smith merely "see" what I wanted him to see in my dream?
Klein's thoughts raced, and he began to comprehend. Was this one of the benefits of crossing, such as possessing innate spiritual sensitivity, or was it the influence of the "transference ceremony"?
"So, Mr. Smith, are you certain that I have truly lost my memory?" Klein carefully formulated his question.
Duncan Smith did not give a direct answer but instead cast him a deep glance. "Are you not surprised by such matters?"
"Even those directly involved in previous incidents, fresh out of their dreams, never believe in extraordinary powers, preferring to believe they have yet to truly awaken," Klein responded with a thoughtful hum.
"Perhaps it's because I was hoping, expecting such powers to help me," he added.
"An interesting line of thought... Perhaps your survival wasn't solely due to luck," Duncan nodded without much of a smile. "I can now confirm that you have indeed lost some memory due to the recent events, particularly those related to the incident itself."
"Can I go back then?" Klein breathed a sigh of relief, cautiously testing the waters.
Duncan, with one hand in his pocket, calmly approached. The surrounding darkness grew tranquil and gentle. "No, you must accompany me to meet the 'expert'," he politely suggested.
"Why?" Klein blurted out, then quickly added, "Don't you trust your guidance in dreams?"
What a joke. If the 'expert' excels in hypnosis or mind reading, my biggest secret will be exposed! The consequences are unimaginable!
"I am modest by nature, but I have some confidence in matters concerning dreams," Duncan replied calmly. "However, it wouldn't hurt to double-check crucial matters. Besides, her expertise differs significantly from mine. Perhaps she can help you recover some memories."
Before Klein could respond, Duncan's tone grew serious. "After all, you are tied to the whereabouts of the Antigonus family's notes."
"What?" Klein was taken aback.
Duncan halted in front of him, his gray eyes locking onto Klein's. "There was no sign of the Fourth Epoch's notes at the scene, nowhere in the entire house. Welch is dead, Naya is dead, and you are the only clue."
"...Very well," Klein fell silent for a moment, then sighed.
The notes are missing... How eerie! I hadn't even considered the whereabouts of the Fourth Epoch notes before!
Duncan nodded almost imperceptibly, then walked past Klein, saying, "Lock the door behind you. We're going to Welch's residence now. The 'expert' is waiting for us there."
Taking a deep breath, Klein's heart pounded with anxiety. He had the urge to refuse, even to run away, but he believed that Duncan Smith must have heightened his vigilance after the dream encounter. With the vast difference in strength between a normal person and an extraordinary, forcibly resisting wouldn't be likely to succeed. Duncan probably had a pistol on him... He should be proficient in shooting... Various thoughts clashed fiercely in his mind, and Klein ultimately chose to face reality:
"Very well."
Ah, I can only take it one step at a time. Perhaps the peculiar ability in my dreams will come into play again...
"Let's go," Duncan's tone remained unchanged.
Klein took a few steps after him, then suddenly stopped. "Mr. Smith, I... I'd like to use the washroom first."
I came out here just to use the toilet...
Duncan didn't object but gave him a deep look. "Certainly, Klein. Trust me, in the darkness, I am far more powerful than you can imagine."
In the darkness... Klein silently repeated those words. He refrained from rash actions, relieved himself, then splashed cold water on his face to calm down completely.
After changing into suitable attire and locking his door, Klein followed Duncan down the stairs, heading toward the entrance of the apartment.
Amidst the calmness, Duncan suddenly spoke, "Why did you try to escape in the dream's end? What were you afraid of?"
As thoughts raced through his mind, Klein pondered for a moment before answering, "I don't remember what I did at Welch's house, or whether I directly caused his and Naya's deaths. I fear that if it's confirmed to be me in the end, I wouldn't dare to gamble on that. It's better to escape and start a new life in the Southern Continent."
"If it were me, I would do the same," Duncan pushed open the apartment door, allowing the cool night breeze to dispel the stuffiness inside.
He wasn't afraid of Klein escaping but instead climbed into the carriage himself, the same one Klein had seen in the dream: four wheels, single horse, coachman, adorned with the emblem of the police system - crossed swords and a crown.
Klein followed suit and entered, finding thick carpets inside, permeated with a soothing aroma.
Seating himself casually, he attempted to steer the conversation to glean more information. "Mr. Smith, hypothetically speaking, if the 'expert' confirms that I have indeed lost that part of my memory, and there is no other evidence proving that I am the perpetrator rather than the victim, would the matter be concluded?"
"In theory, yes. We would search for the notes through other means, as long as they still exist, they can be found. However, before that, we will ensure that you are free from curses, lingering spirits, psychological issues, and any other strange traces, ensuring that you can embrace your future life safely and healthily," Duncan Smith revealed with a slightly peculiar smile.
Klein picked up on this and couldn't help but inquire, "In theory?"
"Yes, merely in theory. In this field, there are always distortions, contradictions, and unbelievable
occurrences. Their continuation, their conclusion, sometimes, are beyond our foresight and control," Duncan said, looking into Klein's eyes. "For instance?"
"Once, we dealt with a cult case a few years back. They organized their followers to commit ritualistic suicides to appease the dark gods. When one of the chosen followers, driven by survival instincts, overcame foolishness, defied the cult, and escaped to the police station to report the case," Duncan continued, sniffing his pipe.
"The matter was handed over to us for handling, a relatively minor task since that cult had no extraordinary members, and the deity they worshipped was simply made up by their leader, for the sake of profit and pleasure, destroying humanity."
"We used only two team members, along with police cooperation, to successfully dismantle the cult without any oversight. And that informant, we confirmed, was free from any lingering spirit residue, curse entanglement, let alone psychological or personality issues, or any other strange traces."
"Afterward, his career flourished, he married a wonderful wife, had a son and a daughter, and all shadows seemed to have drifted away from him. The past horrors and bloodshed seemed to have dissipated entirely."
At this point, Duncan Smith smiled and continued, "However, in March of this year, with a sound financial status, a deep bond with his wife, and intelligent and adorable children, he died. He strangled himself to death in his office."
The crimson moonlight outside the carriage window poured onto Duncan Smith.
At that moment, his seemingly self-deprecating smile sent a chill down Klein's spine, an indescribable chill.
"Strangled himself to death..." Klein silently drew in a breath of cold air, as if glimpsing his own tragic fate.
Even if I've escaped one disaster, is it only temporary?
Is there any way to resolve it completely?
Becoming an extraordinary person to fight against it?
In the silent carriage, Klein's mind swirled with countless thoughts, only to fall one by one.
In such an indescribable silence, the carriage continued on for a long time, traveling fast.
Just as Klein resolved to pluck up the courage to ask Duncan Smith if there were any solutions, the carriage came to a stop.
"Mr. Smith, we've arrived at Welch's residence," the coachman's voice reached their ears.
"Let's get off," Duncan straightened his black coat down to his knees. "Ah, let me introduce you in advance. The 'expert' is known to the public as the most renowned medium in Ahova County."
Putting aside other thoughts, Klein asked curiously, "And what is her actual identity?"
Duncan turned halfway, looking back, his deep gray eyes profound. "A true medium."